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The 0on0alds3nvlle Chio IONAI.I)SONVULLE, , ) LO USIANA BEST MEDICINE, Fresh air is probably the world's best medicine, not only in the treat mnent of disease, but in its prevention. This is a statement buried in an an nouncement by the National Associa tion for the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis. Not one person in 100, It says further, gets enough fresh air at his work, at his rest or in his sleep. The association has published a hand book on the subject of sleeping out of doors and giving directions as to how to obtain the greatest benefit in so doing. The helpfulness of fresh air has long been understood in a gen eral way, but calling it the world's best medicine will give it a new value in the minds of many. Knowledge of It has expanded in the last few years from a point at which it was thought necessary to send sufferers from tuberculosis to California, Colorado or Arizona to a point when the atmos phere of the Adirondacks was appre ciated, and since then, to the appre ciation of the most available large open space having clean' air. But while the curative work goes on, thousands of more or less able-bodied persons make no effort to secure indi vidual breathing space. They sleep with closed windows, ride in closed cars and work in stuffy offices, shops or stores. Some few persons in the crowd whose lungs are offended pro test or escape, but the bulk of hu manity tolerates polluted air while i) cries for unpolluted food and drink. The greatness of the future will not depend upon its science, its invention, its industry, its trade, its knowledge, or any of these material things. Our glory must rest not upon the physical. but upon the spiritual. That has been the backing of all great reforms and upward movements recorded in his tory. It has been the vital principle of all great and true lives. And what Is this spiritual upon which all true progress is built? It is faith, love, hope, friendship, unselfishness. There Is no fact in everyday life sure and steadfast as this. We may grow in material things, but it is not true growth unless we grow in spiritual things, too, says the Ohio State Jour sal. Whoever spends his life in ma terial progress, in making money and doing a great business, is no agent of ,or friend of his community unless he embodies tbese spiritual qualities in his work. The only real enterpr.se. htes of the spirit.- ne can buildtb tallest structures, the biggest mill, or the longest railroad, but he is a poor agent of the public good if he does not unite in his work these great moral virtues. Miss Dora Keen, the mountain clim ber who ascended Mount Blackburn in Alaska, startled Amdrican geog. raphers by her statement that she saw at a distance to the eastward an unknown mountain apparently higher than Mount McKinley. Coast sur Vey experts have looked into the mat ter and found that the peak which at tracted Miss Keen's attention is Mount Steele, the height of which has been estimated to be 16,439 feet, while the height of Mount McKinley Is upward of 20,000 feet. The height of Mount Blackburn is 16,140 feet, which is 800 feet lower than that of Mount Steele. Mount McKinley re tains the reputation which it had when it was named of being the lofti st peak on the North American conti nent, A medical expert, speaking before the Eugenics Congress, declared he would rather have a robust burglar than a consumptive bishop for his fa ther. He should follow up this by the logical advocacy of the abolition of the present state of society in favor of a return to the days of the cave men when the physical basis was the ideal of life. In fact, all the so-called new thoughts about life and progress are suspiciously like a return to the good old times when might was right and men did not bother with the fins distinctions of morals and laws. It is announced that dictators of fashion intend to compel us to wear such cotumes as were worn during the reign of terror in Paris. The dictators of fashion appear to be ab solutely merciless. A New Jersey policeman who re cently inherited $100,000 has received 2,000 offers of marriage. It is evident that a lot of' women think he Is not going to be spoiled by sudden riches It is said that the average salary lof clergymen in this country is $663 a 3ear. And yet we wonder why sc pnany college men turn to baseball. A Los Angeles scientist makes the predlction that in 500 years all men will be bald. He has doubtless been xzperimenting with a hair restorer. A Long Branch bell hop gained fame by writing a poem on "Tips." If i poet could glean a bell hop's tips tbe'd renounce pen and ink for lie. Sefv the 3toary 4 t r8o1s WhorPank Oint nQP~s rT i.: Ao9c Td G .Q IC 0 V 1(.Cr4 _ y :·-v__ :· Aatk~r ft. dy: A Z I:: 0 ... SYNOPSIS. Enid Maitland a frank, free and un spoiled young Phailadelphia girl, is taken to the Colorado mountains by her uncle, Robert Maitland. James Armstrong, Maitland's protege, falls in love with her. His persistent wooing thrills the girl. bite she hesitates, and Armstrong goes east on business without a definite answer. Enid hears the story of a mining engi neer, Newbold, whose wife fell off a cliff and was so seriously hurt that he was compelled to shoot her to prevent her be ing eaten by wolves while he went for help. Kirkby, the old guide who tells the story, gives Enid a package of letters which he says were found on the dead woman's body. She reads the letters and at Kirkby's request keeps them. While bathing in mountain stream Enid is at tacked by a bear, which is mysteriously shot. A storm adds to the girl's terror. A sudden deluge transforms brook Into raging torrent, which sweeps Enid into gorge, where she is rescued by a rnoun tain hermit after a thrilling experience. Campers in great confusion upon discov ing Enid's absence when the storm breaks. Maitland and Old Cirkby go in search of the girl. Enid discovers that her ankle is sprained and that she is un able to walk. Her mysterious rescuer tarries her to his camp. Enid goes to sleep in the strange man's bunk. Minaer cooks breakfast for Enid, after which they go on tour of inspection. The her mit tells Enid of his unsuccessful attempt to find the Maitland campers. He admits chat he Is also from Philadelphia. The hermit falls in love with Enid. The man comes to a realization of his love for her, relations of the girl and her rescuer be come unnatural and strained. The strang er tells of a wife he had who is dead, and says he has sworn to ever cherish her memory by living in solitude. He and Enid, however, confess their love for each other. She learns that he is the man who killed his wife in the mountain. Enid discovers the writer of the letters to Newbold's wife to have been James Armstrong. Newbold decides to start to the settlement for help. The man is racked by the belief that he is unfaithful to his wife's memory, and Enid is tempt ed to tell him of the letters in her pos session. Armstrong, accompanied by Klrkby and Robert-Maitland, find a note that Newbold had left in the deserted cabin, and know that the girl is in his keeping. Fate brings all the actors to gether. Newbold returns from hunting game and sees a man near the hut. It is James Armstrong, who has at last lo cated the missing girl, and he enters the cabin. Armstr pleads his love for Enid, but she d him of his affec tion for Ne wife. He grows In sulting and Earders him from her oresence.. Ne returns opportunely. He discovers t ut about Armstrong and would lh led him but for the. interference o .kb and Maitland, who came up scene. It develops that Armstro engaged in a plot to separate Ne iler ind his wife. He clears thew su ame and afterward ends hisa aw r CI APT . ont(ttii . "Do you by any chance belong to the Maryland Newbolds, sir?" "Yes, they are distantly related to a most excellent family of the same name in Philadelphia, I believe." "I have always understood that to be the truth." "Ah, a very satisfactory connection indeed," said Stephen Maitland with no little satisfaction. "Proceed, sir." "There is nothing much else to say about myself, except that I love your daughter and with ybur permission I want her for my wife." Mr. Maitland had thought long and seriously over the state of affairs. He had proposed in his desperation to give her hand to Armstrong if he found her. It had been impossible to keep secret the story of her adven ture, her rescue and the death of Arm strong. It was natural and inevitable that gossip should have busied itself with her name. It would therefore have been somewhaTdifficult for Mr. Maitland to have withheld his consent to her marriage to almost any repu table man who had been thrown so in timately with her, but when the man was so unexceptionably born and bred as Newbold, what had appeared as a more or less disagreeable duty, almost an imperative imposition, became a pleasure ! Mr. Maitland was no bad judge of anen when his prejudices were not rampant, and he looked with much sat isfaction on the fine, clean limbed, clear eyed, vigorous man who was at present suing for his daughter's hand. Newbold had shaved off his beard and had cropped close his mustache; he was dressed in the habits of civiliza tion and he was almost metam orphosed. His shyness wore away as he talked and his inherited ease ,of manner and his birthright of good breeding came back to him and sat easily upon him. Under the circumstances the very best thing that could happen would be a marriage between the two, in deed to be quite honest, Mr. Stephen Maitland would have felt that perhaps under any circumstances his daughter could do no better than commit her self to a man like this. "I shall never attempt," he said at last, "to constrain my daughter. I think I have learned something by my touch with this life here; perhaps we of Philadelphia need a little broaden ing in airs more free. I am sure that she would never give her hand with out her heart, and therefore, she must decide this matter herself. From her own lips you shall have your answer." "But you, sir; I confess that I should feel easier and happier if I had your sanction and approval." "Steve," said Mr. Robert Maitland, as the other hesitated, not because he intended to refuse, but because he was loath to say the word that so far as he was concerned would give his daughter into another man's keeping, "I think you can trust Newbold; there are men who knew him years ago; there is abundant evidence and testi mony as to his qualities, I vouch for him." "Robert," answered his brother, "I need no such testimony; the way in which he saved Enid, the way he com ported himself during that period of isolation with her, his present bearing -in short, sir, if a father is ever glad to give away his daughter, I might say I should be glad to entrust her to you. I believe you to be a man of honor and a gentleman; your family is almost as old as my own; as for the disparity in our fortunes, I can easily remedy that." Newbold smiled at Enid's father, but it was a pleasant smile; albeit with a trace of mockery and a trace of tri umph in it. "Mr. Maitland, I am more grateful to you than I can say for your con sent and approval which I shall do my best to merit. I think I may claim to have won your daughter's heart; to have added to that your sanction com pletes my happiness. As for the dis parity in our fortunes, while your gen erosity touches me profoundly, I hard ly think that you need be under any un easiness as to our material welfare." "What do you mean?" "I am a mining engineer, sir; I didn't live five years alone in the mountains of Colorado for nothing." "Pray, explain yourself, sir." "Did you find gold in the hills?" asked Robert Maitland, quicker to un derstand. "The richest veins on the continent," answered Newbold. "And nobody knows anything about it?" "Not a soul." "Have you located the claims?" Y0flG- j D Y "Do You by Any Chance Belong to the Maryland Newbolds, Sir?" "Only one." "We'll go back as soon as the snow melts," said the younger Maitland, "and take them up. You are sure?" "Absolutely." "He means," said his brother, "that he has discovered gold." "And silver too," interposed New bold. "In unlimited quantities," continued the other Maitland. "Yqur daughter will have more money than she knows what to do with sir;" smiled Newbold. - "God bless me," exclaimed the Phil adelphian. "And that whether she marries me or not, for the richest claim of all is to be taken out in her name," added her lover. Mr. Stephen Maitland shook the oth er by the hand vrigorously. "I congratulate you," he said, "you have beaten me on all points; I must therefore regard you as the most elig ible of suitors. Gold in these moun tains, well, well!" "And may I see your daughter and plead my cal'- in person, sir?" asked Newbold. "Certainly, certainly. Robert, will you oblige me--" In compliance with his brother's gesture, Robert Maitland touched the bell and bade the answering servant ask (Miss Maitland to come o the li bra1i . "Now," said Mr. Stephen Maitland as the servant closed the door, "you and I would leave the young people alone. Eh, Robert?" "By all means," answered the young er, and opening the door again the two older men went out leaving New bold alone. "But I don't quite understand," quer ied Mr. Stephan Maitland. He heard a soft step on the stair in the hall without; the gentle swish of a dress as somebody descended from the floc' above. A vision ap peared in the doorway. Without a movement in opposition, without a word of remonstrance, without a throb of hesitation on her part, he took her in his arms. From the drawing-room opposite, Mr. Robert Maitland softly tiptoed acrosskthe hall and closed the library door, neither of the lovers be ing aware of his action. Often and often they had longed for each other on the opposite side of a door, and now at last the woman was in the man's arms and no door rose between them, no barrier kept them apart any longer. There was no obli gation of loyalty or honor, real or im agined, to separate them now. They had drunk deep of the chalice of cour age, they had drained the cup to the very bottom, they had shown each other that though love was the great est of passions, honor and loyalty were the most powerful of forces, and now they reaped the reward of their abne gation and devotion. At last the woman gave herself up to him in complete and entire aban donment without fear and without re proach; and at last the man took what was his own without the shadow of a reservation. She shrank from no pressure of his arms, she turned her facd away from no touch of his lips. They two had proved their right to surr'nder by their ability to conquer. Speech was hardly necessary be tween them, and it was not for a long time that'coherent words came. Little murmurs of endearment, little pas sionate whispers of a beloved name- these were enough then. When he could find strength to deny himself a little and to hold her at arm's length and look at her, he found her paler, thinner and more delicate than when he had seen her in the mountains. She had on some witching creation of pale blue and silver; he didn't know what it was; he didn't care--it made her only more like an angel to him than ever. She found him, too, greatly changed and highly approved the alterations in his ap pearance. "Why, Will," she said at last, "I never realized what a handsome man you were." He laughed at her. "I always knew you were the most beautiful woman on earth." "Oh, yes, doubtless when I was the only one." "And if there were millions you could still be the only one. But it isn't for your beauty alone that I love you. You knew all the time that my fight against loving you was based up on a misinterpretation, a mistake; you didn't tell me because you were thoughtful of a poor woman." "Should I have told you?" "No, I have thought it all out. I was loyal through a mistakf, but you wouldn't betray a dead, sister; you would save her reputation in the mind of the one being that remembered her, at the expense of your own happiness. And if there were nothing else I could love you for that" J / "And is there anything else?" asked she who would fain be loved for other qualities. "Everything," he answered, rap turously drawing her once more to his heart. "I knew that there would be some way," answered the satisfied woman softly after a little space; "love like ours is not born to fall short of the completest happiness. Oh, how fortu nate for me was that idle impulse that turned me up the canon instead of down, for if it had not been for that there would have been no meeting--" She stopped suddenly, her face aflame at the thought of the conditions of that meeting; she must needs hide her face on his shoulder. He laughed gayly. "My little spirit of the fountain, my love, my wife that is to bel Did you r He Shamefully Held Her Close. know that your father had done me the honor to give me your hand, sub ject to the condition that your heart goes with itV' "You took that first," answered the woman looking up at him again. There was a knock on the door. Without waiting for permission it was opened; this time three men entered, for old Kirkby had joined the group. The blushing Enid made an impulsive movement to tear herself away from Newbold's arms, but he. shamefully held her close. The three men looked at the two lovers solemnly for a mo ment and then broke into laughter. It was Kirkby who spoke first. "I hear as how you found gold in them mountains, Mr. Newbold." "I found something far more valua ble than all the gold in Colorado in these moutnains," answered the oth er. "And what was that?" asked the old frontiersman, ,curiously and innocently. kissed the girl .gain. (THE SEND.) Wife Who Nags. The worst thing that the bid fairy could wish upon a man is a nagging, fault-finding wife. The most savory of the dishes prepared by her hand tastes flat and stale if served up with the sauce of her complaints, and the cosiest of homes is a place of unrest if it is the storehouse of her recrim inations. Even if -there is just cause for jealousy, nagging is an aggrava tion rather than a cure. It breeds the spirit of antagonism and the case of -the injured party is hurt rather than helped. The only safe cure for straying af fections is to make oneself so attrac tive,, so agreeable, that the desired love and attention is irresistibly held to its original moorings. Sometimes sudden evidence of indifference awakes the errant one to the fact that the straying may be mutual. Some times renewed outbursts of affection, of care and interest, is the tonic of weakened ardor. Sometimes splendid results art accomplished by wearing smart and becoming clothes and brushing up the wits and vivacity. Big Bags of British Hunters. The shooting in Great Britain for 1911 is over as far as grouse are con. cerned. The heaviest one-day bag ob. tained in Scotland was that of Lord Dalkeith and his party on the Duke of Buccleuch's Roanfell moor, in Rox. burghshire, when eight guns killed 2,523 birds. In England the best one-day bag was that of the Duc de Luynes and five other guns on Lord Strathmore's Wemmergill moors in the Upper Lune. qale district of Durham; 1,599 birds were killed during four -drives in stormy weather. On the Duke of Devonshire's Upper Wharfedale moore in Yorkshire 14,918 ~birds were killed in twenty-two days, all by driving, and there were usually nine guns out. The best bag was ob. tained on August 18th, when the King was included in the party, and nine guns killed 1,580 birds on the Bardea and Rylstone moors. Like a Lawyer. Dr. Cyrus Cutler, the well known Springfield surgeon, is a member of the Colonial club, an institution that fines its members for talking shop, relates the New York Tribune. Dr. Cutler, getting out of his motor car, entered the Colonial club the oth er day for luncheon, and, advancing into the restaurant, said to a lawyer as he took off his goggles: "Well, old man, how are you?" The lawyer got Dr. Cutler fined then and there for talking shop. The next day when he arrived at the club again for luncheon, the surgeon, angered at what had happened, cut the lawyer. The latter then had him fined once more. MORAL FOR THE MONEY-MAIA Hope of Becoming Millionaires About on a Par With the Washer woman's Delusion. Prof. Warren M. Beidler of Bethel, Pa., in a recent address made the striking assertion that the American people, money-mad, taught their chil dren how to earn a living, but not how to live. "There is no viler, and there is no vainer ambition," said Professor Beid ler to a reporter, "than that of the American boy to become a millionaire. What percentage of our boys do be come millionaires? It would take a good many decimals to work that out, believe me! "The boy who sets his heart on a million fares like the washerwoman who set her heart on a cross-eyed aeronaut. "'I hear you married that cross-eyed aeronaut last week?" said a friend. "'Yes, I did,' replied the washer woman, as she rocked back and forth over her tub. "Yes, I married him, and I gave him $500 out of my buildin' association to start an airship fac tory.' "'That so ? said the friend. 'Where is he now?' "'I don't know,' said the washer woman. 'I'm waitin' for him to come back from his honeymoon.' " Explains the Undertaker's Grouch. "Who is that fellow sitting humped up and muttering to himself out there on the horse block?" "Aw, that's Ezra Toombs, the under taker," replied the landlord of the Skeedee tavern. ."He's feeling sore over the way his business has been going of late. You see, the doctor gave Judge Feebles two weeks to live; that was six weeks ago, and the judge is up and around now and figgerin' on marryin' again. Every ý time Ezra meets the doctor he asks him, 'How 'about it, hey?', and they have a row. And now he's sittin' out there watch ing a tramp painter gilding the weath er vane of the church, across the street. Ezra says, by Heck, he's abbUt ready to move away, things is so dead here."-Kansas City Star. Absorbed. A college professor noted for his concentration of thought, returned home from a scientific meeting one night, still pondering deeply upon the subject that had been discussed. As he entered his room he heard a noise that seemed to come from under the bed. -'Ls there someone there?" he asked absently. "No, professor," answered the th truder, -who knew his peculiarities. "That's strange," muttered the pro fessor. "I was almost sure I heard 'someone hidei the bed." . Little Ruth as te younget dauglm ter ina very f tct `Presbyterian fam ily tliat esp ally abhorred profanity. One day li e Ruth became exceed ingly exaspe aed with one of her dol lies. In her >aby vocabulary she could find no words to express adequately her disapproal of dolly's conduct. Finally, tli0owing the offending dol ly across tie room, she cried, feel ingly: "My gracious! I wish I belonged to a family that sweared!" lNo Such Aspersion. "Do you get a stipend for your weekly work?" "Nothin' like that. I git reg'lar p y." i - CASTO For Infants and The Kind YouH Always Bouglt ALCOHOL-3PER CENT AVe\getable Preparation forAs- . similating thhFoodandRegula- Bears the ting the Stomachs and Bowels of Signature Promotes DigesionCheerrul r nessandRest.Containsneither Of Opium.Morphine norMineral NOT NAR C OTIC. RJinga ROldDrSA?.RhEZF/ ^0 Aperfect Remedy for Constipa- s Stion .our 5tomach,Diarrhoea, l WormsConvulsionsl`Feverioh nessand LOSS OF SLEEPi. Fac Simile Signature of NEW YORK. aranteed under t Food CoASTOR 0r.. 1 Exa Cropy of Wrapper. Thi r..ty... Tv Eaa Ciopy t W'rapiU Oiaperr. m mF OUNU OOMPi BastCoach Syrup. Ttles Good. Use in time. Sold by Droctiu. 3. e s s A HOT ONE. x.i He--My future was inR yon and you've decided. Now have refused me, I'm going devil. She-I'd suggest that you gao where where you are less well; Good Time to Do i: "Is your daughter going.top~ on the piano this afternoon!"' "Yes, I think so." "Well, then, I'd like to borri lawn mower. I've got to cut th some time, anyway."--Judg5e A rich man without charity faithful to his duty. Fieldin BACKACHE . NOT A DISEI But a Symptom,a Dau hal Which Every W" Should Heed. Backache is a symptom of weakness or derangement. If backache don't neglect it. To· ~ manent relief you must reaseb ti of the trouble. Read about )M all's experience. Morton's Gap,Kentncky.-i" two years with female d health was. eachh 'i now more . . .. not had anadache lha my own work, washing and neverhave backachbev: think your medicine is it to ali my:n~eigh~bos.. · testimony ill help o awte lish it."--Mdrs. OLIBIo ~not standi to Gap Ke ntu geno, h a meal'sy nsh S tyoo h toe t Lbyd E arik I ness Sn each side, co no Sompound will he t y iE Pinakhamq is now more than twE y (.ce. Yoir letter w'l bei~ renot had an achnswered bp i my own work, washing and and never have backache an think your mediclne is grsndtn It to all iy~neighbora. If you testimony will help others youma lish it"-Mrs. OLLIn WoolME ton's Gap, Kentucky. If you have the ulightest4# that Lydia E. Pinkhaml'iY ble Comnpound wlubelpy to Lydla E.PinkhamM vice. Your letter will bep read and answered by a a and held In strict confided I3 M GOODl 50 2O Agents Wan.-Q~ FINIE FOST CARDSRJD Slon.Notalk dngre1 claltiesIn gres, demau y N Farmers and farm hans des their conditions ahould writ$O Salmon. Idah,). Greatest o0 _