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GIVEN UP TO DIE.
Doan's Kidney Pills Effect Marvelous Recovery. Mrs. M. A. Jlnkins, Quanah, Texas, says: "I was bloated almost twice natural size. I had the best physi cians but they all failed to help me. For five weeks I was as helpless as a baby. My back throbbed as If it would break and the kidney secretions were In terrible con dition. The doctors held out no hope and I was resigned to my fate. At this critical time, I began using Doan's Kidney Pills and soon felt relief. I continued and was cured." Remember the name—Doan's. For sale by all dealers. 60 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. * ■ M:' o. mN UP AND DOWN ARGUMENT. Tfl r'l'fh he J / V // it a 3 S T* "2?— Sam—I wants yo' toe understand dat Ise no common nigger, Ise had a good bringin' up, I has. Pete—Dats all right, but ef yo' fools wid me, man, yo'll hab a good frowin' down, too. Beware the Dog! A family moved from the city to a suburban locality and were told that they should get a watchdog to guard the premises at night. So they bought the largest dog that was for sale in the kennels of a neighboring dog fan cier, who was a German, afterward the house was entered by burglars, who made a good haul, while the big dog slept. The man went to the dog fancier and told him about it. "Veil, vat you need now," said the dog merchant, "is a leedle dog to vake up the big dog."—Everybody's. Shortly Perfectly Harmless. A little girl of three years, whose father had bought her some firecrack ers and skyrockets for the Fourth of July, wanted to know what they were for. On being told their purpose, she anxiously Inquired if they would hurt anybody. When told they would not, she seemed relieved, and that night, when saying her prayers, she added: "An', Dod, don't 'oo be 'f'aid of zem poppin' flngs when zey make a noise tomorrow, 'tause zey won't hurt 'oo." Tribute to Hold-Up Artist. "The train doesn't stop at Crimson Gulch any more." "No," replied Three-Finger Sam. "I'm afraid the town doesn't get much respect from the railroad." "Respect! Why that railroad is clean terrified. Ever since the news got around that Stage Coach Charley had settled here that train Jest gives one shriek and jumps out of sight." The years write their records on men's hearts as they do on trees— Inner circles of growth which no eye san see.—Saxe Holm. PUZZLED Hard Work, Sometimes, to Raieo Children. Children's taste Is ofttlmes more ac curate, in selecting the right kind of food to fit the body, than that of adults. Nature works more accurate ly through the children. A Brooklyn lady says: "Our little boy had long been troubled with weak digestion. We could never per suade him to take more than one taste of any kind of cereal food. He was & weak little chap and we were puz zled to know what to feed him on. "One lucky day we tried Grape Nuts. Well, you never saw a child eat with such a relish, and it did me good to see him. From that day on It seemed as though we could almost see him grow. He would eat Grape Nuts for breakfast and supper, and I think he would have liked the food for dinner. "The difference In hla appearance la something wonderful. "My husband had never fancied ce real foods of any kind, but he be came very fond of Grape-Nuts and has been much improved in health since using it. "We are now a healthy family, and I naturally believe In Grape-Nuts. , "A friend has two children who were formerly afflicted with rickets. I was satisfied that the disease was caused by lack of proper nourishment They showed It. So I urged her to use Grape-Nuts as an experiment and the result was almost magical. "They continued the food and today both children are well and strong as any children in this city, and, of course, my friend la a firm believer In Grape-Nuts for she has the evidence before her eyea every day." Read "The Road to Wellvllle," found In pkgs. "There's a Reason." ■vor read the shove letter T A new one appear« from time to time. Thu Interest. t SERIAL^ a STORY c vj <lAti Heir octillions By" Frederick Reddale cAuthor if "The Other &Vlan" etc. Illustrations by Ray Walters (Copyright, by J. B. Lippincott Co.) 2 ' SYNOPSIS. Andy Meleen, aged and eccentric mil lionaire miner, 1» dying and orders his attorney to draw up a will leaving all his to the son of a sister from whom separated years before and of whose name even he Is Ignorant. Andy tells the attorney that he was married In his youth, but left his wife after a quar rel in which he struck her. He learned afterward that she and his daughter were dead. property he was CHAPTER I.—Continued. "Well, that's on'y right The money kem out o' old Nevady; let her have it back ag'in. But mind you, Carboy, not till you've raked all creation witji a fine-tooth comb to find Mattie's boy." "Whom will you name as executors or trustees?" "Must you have 'em?" Meleen an swered anxiously, as though the func tionaries referred to were of a species noxious and undesirable. "Undoubtedly; they are necessary evils." Meleen frowned in perplexity. It seemed as though it were costing him far more trouble to leave his money behind him than it had becu to amass it and guard it during his eventful life. "Can't you fellers act?" he inquired dubiously at length—"you fellers"—in dicating Mr. Carboy and his partners. "Certainly, if you wish it. Two will be sufficient. Suppose we say Mr. Passavant and myself?" With a gesture as of one wearied with the whole subject Meleen sig nified assent. Then, as the lawyer rose to go indoors, he said: "Fix it up quick, Carboy, I'm ' mor tal tired!" By this time the sun had set behind the western wall of mountains, and Evan appeared to wheel his master within. But the tough old fellow de murred. Half his nights had been spent in the open air with only the starry canopy for a tent the end was near, he dreaded the crib bed and cabined confinement of four walls. So a lantern was brought and hung to the rafters of the porch, where Its dim radiance could not in terfere with that piercing gaze which to the last roamed lovingly over the mountain prospect. One, two hours passed, and save for the steady, harshly rhythmical "crunch-crunch" of the "stamps" the town below was strangely quleL Every soul therein knew that the master-mind In the hillside eyrie was passing away; hushed were the usual sounds of rude revelry and "wide open" license. It was felt to be a fateful night for the town of Meleen. At length Mr. Carboy's task was done. A table was carried on to the porch; by lantern-light the will was read to the testator, who turned his eyes to meet those of the lawyer in mute approval when the reading was ended. Then, lifted and supported by old Evan, he affixed his uncouth and sprawling signature, the witnesses fol lowed, and the deed was done which bequeathed a princely fortune and a royal revenue to—whom? Next morning Andrew Meleen was found lifeless in bed. his gnarled and knotted features composed in a peace ful, almost ecstatic, smile. "Perhaps he has found Minna!" mused the lawyer, with humid eyes, as he stood by the side of his strange client. Now that I CHAPTER II. In an old-fashioned sitting room in an antiquated brick house in that unfash ionable quarter of "downtown" New York formerly known as Greenwich village there sat, one autumn evening, a young couple, both of whom were exceedingly good to look upon. To the Judicious observer it would have been apparent from their atti tude and bearing each towards the other that they were something more than mere friends, yet less than man and wife. In fact, they were con tented and happy dwellers in that de lectable border-land known as Being Engaged. The girl was fairly tall of stature, brü nett as to complexion, with a wealth of fine and glossy dark hair which rippled and waved around a small but shapely head and above a witchingly feminine forehead, white and broad and low. Her eyes were of a very steadfast dark gray, set widely apart, giving one the impression of quiet re pose and cool judgment. A firm chin above a strong and supple throat made her look older and more wom anly than her years really warranted. She was busied with one of those trifles of needlework which keep the fingers busy without curbing one's tongue, and at the same time serve to display to admiring and even co quettish advantage a very 8hapely wrist and hand. Yet even the dearest of her feminine friends would never have Insinuated that Eunice Trevecca was the least bit of a coquette. In deed, it needed but a glance into the depths of those quiet gray eyes to convince you that that here was a na ture tender and true as that of the Douglas himself. So at least thought young Wilfrid Stennls, who sat opposite to her, and who certainly enjoyed the best op portunities in the world for knowing. He was a pleasant, wholesome lad, fair and florid, with light golden-brown hair and mustache, slim and with slightly stooped shoulders. A rather weak face on the whole, one might say, though perhaps this was partly owing to a rather querulous droop of the mustache, which barely veiled the sensitive mouth; a beard would better have hidden a chin which was far too pretty for any mere man. Had you guessed him to be a clerk or a bookkeeper you would not have been far astray—one of those men who make exceedingly valuable and faithful servants but very poor mas ters. As to character, he was neither better nor worse than thousands of other youngsters who start out in life in some downtown office or store at $3 a week, the goal of whose ambition is to earn fifteen hundred or two thou sand dollars a year, to marry some pleasant girl, settle down In a Harlem flat or a little one-of-a-row house over in Brooklyn, raise a small family, get along on a couple of new suits of clothes each year, w'lth a seml-oc caslonal visit to the theater in winter and an outing on Saturday afternoons at Coney island or Rockaway. Not a wildly hilarious or thrilling ex istence, it may be granted, yet there are hundreds and thousands of such men—gentlemanly and refined, neith er ve?y strong nor very weak, not vicious nor conspicuously virtuous, but who, in a paraphrase of the old Shorter Catechism, are piously or me chanically "doing their duty in that state of life to which it has pleased the Almighty to call them." It Is of kindred stuff that the "average citi zen" is made. Even to such men strange dreams may come—fond ^nd foolish visions of wealth and power, hopeless of realiza tion, mayhap, yet nevertheless fre quently prompted by certain innate or inherited cravings for the good things of this life which only money cun pro cure, and for the enjoyment of which they feel a yearning and an infinite capacity if only they had the chance. "Oh, it's a splendid thing to be rich!" Wilfrid was even then saying to Eunice. "Just think of what a man could do If he were really in posses [ © B B i m il 'Oh, It's a Splendid Thing to Be Rich!" sion of more money that he knew how to spend! I don't mean a paltry hun dred thousand dollars, but—well, say twenty or thirty or even fifty mil lions!'' "Why stop there?" put in Eunice with a quizzing little smile. "Why not say a hundred millions at once and be certain of having enough?" "Because for practical purposes twenty millions would be ample." said he. "The income from that should be —let me see"—doing a rapid sum in mental arithmetic—"over half a mil lion a year." "Well, and what would you do with it, Wilf, if you had it?" questioned Eunice, willing to humor his fancy. Wilfrid drew a long breath and lay back in his chair. "In the first place. I'd build me a city house right here in New York on the east side of the park or else at Riverside, and a coun try place somewhere up the sound or on Long island near the water, want to live in the city not more than three or four months In the year. Then I'd have a yacht—none of your smoky, greasy teakettles, but a sweet smelling, fast-sailing schooner fit to go around the world—and I'd sail her myself, too. There would be horses for riding and driving, with perhaps a four-ln-hand coach. Best of all. could travel—south in winter, of I'd course, but I'd see the world: London, Paris, Berlin. Italy, the pictures, the statues, and the libraries. Oh, I'd go everywhere and do everything, even to a little gaming at Monte Carlo! nothing wicked or- vulgar about it all. you know, but the utmost enjoyment in a refined way, and all the expert ences that money could give." The girl smiled at his boyish en thusiasm, nor did she evince any pique or annoyance because Eunice Trevecca was somehow left out of the picture. It was all mere Idle talk, of course. Wilfrid was not really un happy or discontented; he had a good position with nine hundred a year, and they were to be married in the gprlng "You certainly could give some of our American nabobs a few lessons on bow to be happy though rich," ahe smilingly commented. "It has often seemed to me that our reailv rich men do not get half as much out ot life as they mighty "Of course they don't!" assented Wilfrid dogmatically. "Why, look at me," he rambled on; "I'm only half baked; never had any education to speak of; had to keep my nose to the grindstone all my life; as you know, there were always two ways for every dollar to go as ldng as mother was alive, on account of her many years of hopeless illness] but, in spite of my few opportunities, I'll bet I could show some of those fellows how to enjoy their wealth!" "Of course you could," Eunice agreed, with a loving woman's fatu ous fondness and indulgence for the man she has promised to marry. "But we'll be just as happy without the money, won't we, Wilf?" "Not a doubt of it!" he exclaimed, starting to her side, bending over her and pressing his lips to her shining colls of hair. "Why, possessing you and your love, dearest, I'm the richest fellow in New York today." She tilted back her head to look into his eyes as he gazed fondly down into hers. "That's the way I love to hear you speafe," she murmured, not buy some things in this world, Wilf," a truism which was sealed in a very expressive and satisfactory manner by the naturally ardent Wil frid. Money can Eunice, though Very well educated and refined—In England she would have been described as "quite above her station, my dear"—was only one remove from being a working woman herself, and had no foolish or unprac tical longings. Ad housekeeper for her stepfather, John Trevecca—her mother she could pot remember—she was beyond the necessity of earning her own living; but Trevecca himsell was but a foreman in some iron works up on Tenth avenue. So to Eunice the prospect of marrying so present able a young fellow as Wilfrid Sten nis» both of them being very much in love with each Other, seemed the acme of good fortune, leaving noth ing to be desired of the Fates. And though Wilf was her senior by some four years—he was twenty-eight —the girl was really the elder in point of steady principle and cool, sober judgment. In fact, Wilf, as she often acknowledged to herself, was rather boyish, sanguine, mercurial, easily led. But she loved him for these very qual ities; some women toother their hus bands before the children arrive to keep their affection« busy. When old John Trevecca came In, coatless and bringing with him a strong aroma of cut Cavendish, for he had been smoking his pipe with some cronies on the "front porch," as they still call the house entrance up Green wich way, the light of Wilfrid's rosy visions had not yet died out of his eyes. There was even an atmosphere of suppressed excitement In the home ly room which caused the old man to look shrewdly at Eunice. If there were anything amiss between the lovers Trevecca knew he would-And It In the girl's face. But apparently all was serene. "Wilf has been telling me what he Intends to do with all his money when he gets to be very rich," she said smilingly. "That's easy • spending," said Tre vecca, sinking heavily Into a chair. "There's more money got rid of that way in a year than'd pave ■ !' York wi' dollars! But let's hear abart It, lad," he added. "Oh, It was just foolish talk," said Wilfrid, on whose late enthusiasm the blunt words of his prospective fa ther-in-law were like a bucket of cold water on a bonfire. Nevertheless, as he walked home to his lodgings on Washington square the exaltation of the earlier evening still clung to him, and as he swung along In the clear, crisp autumn night his step was jaunty, his head held high, and he was potentially as rich as he was actually poor To such a man as Wilfrid Stennis. uneducated as the college world counts learning, but eager, receptive, possessing an eye foi^ beauty and fot color, with a love for music, an un formed, omnivorous appetite foi books, and an instinctive shrinking from the sordid and the mean, the bonds of even respectable poverty are apt to prove especially galling. Like Bella Wilfer, he realized to the full what It meant to be ''beastly poor, mis erably poor." What wonder, then, that his long ings, his aspirations, his day dreams were centered about that wealth he so often saw others «busing, or mis using, or keeping napkin-tied? Not for the miser's greed of possession, but for the gratification of the best that was in him, did he long for money —heaps and heaps of it. Overnight day dreatos. fortunately, come cheap, and they leave no dark brown taste iu the mouth. The next morning,'when Wilfrid Stennis went I downtown to the Froht street store, . he was again the prosaic and method I ical young entry clerk. No one would ! have suspected him of secret yearn i ings for fast horses, a faster yacht. , , , I and a little flutter around the tables so hospitably maintained by the prince of Monaco. (TO BE CONTINUED.) _ ^ Sexes Divided In Churc . The separation of the sexes seems to have been formerly by no means an uncommon practice in the Church o I England. In fact. Edward V . s prayer j book specially mentions that at the communion serv.ee the men shall tarr y on ° ne a ' de and the women on the other. The papers of a church ln Westmoreland Include elaborate dl rections for the division of the aexea at ,ta services, alreadv. Give your children pretty names; there are more than enough ugly onet PLACE WHERE ZOLA RESTS Great Writer's Remains Lie in the Pantheon, the Terrestrial Valhalla of the French. Paris.—Years of effort made Emile Zola a great writer and earned for him the prospective honor of a grave in the Pantheon, the Westminster ab bey of France. One little letter took him that privilege. Then a court de cision made it possible ten years after the letter was written for his body to rest with France's immortal ones un der the legend on the Pantheon's dome: "To Great Men, the Grateful Fatherland." Zola died In 1902 from accidental suffocation by coal gas escaping from a patent heater. Literary glory came to Zola through his great works, "La Sebacle," "La Fortune de Rougon," 71 The Pantheon, Parle. "L'Assommoir," "Dr. Pascal," "Paris," "Lourdes," "Rome," and "Fecundity." The "J'accuse!" letter on the Drey fus case set him back -ten years. In this letter the writer accused army and civil officials of criminally con nlving to place the guilt of treasona ble correspondence on Captain Drey fus. The government had Zola tried and sentenced on defamation charges 1o serve one year in prison. Zola was assaulted In the streets of Paris by his countrymen. Four years after his death, the highest court of France de cided that Dreyfus was not guilty and Zolas "J'accuse!" letter, when read In the courtroom by Dreyfus's lawyer, was applauded and cheered. So Zola, dead, has received honors which Zola, living, was refused. The Pantheon is the terrestrial Val halla of the French. It Is a great cross-shaped basilica, with a dome nearly 300 feet high. It stands on a hill on the Latin quarter side of the Seine on the site of a Christian church built 1,200 years ago. As most liv ing Frenchmen crave the Cross of the Legion of Honor or admission to the BYench academy, so most Frenchmen long for that greatness which de mands a burial in the Pantheon. And Zola has it. WIRELESS MESSAGES ANCIENT Natives of Africa Communicate Over a Dlatance of 8even Miles by a Code of Drum Signale. Johannesburg, La.—Many strange tribes dwell in the interior of Africa and queer Indeed are some of their ways. One tribe, the Batetela, has long used a method of sending com munications between its several vil lages that is unique and well worth consideration, used and the "wireless" message can be picked up, or beard, seven miles away. It is amazing. The drum used by the Batetela for sending messages in this manner is first cut out from one large solid piece of hard wood. Its shape, as may be seen in the illus tration, is quite peculiar and must require considerable skill in the fash ioning, when one considers the lack of proper tools among these tribes. Still more difficult 1 b the finishing of the drum's interior, for it has to be hollowed out and all the work is done through the long narrow opening which shows at the top. The shape inside follows that outside and much patience and care are required in at A wooden drum is 'Mr C . It ; ».-■ É Drum Signaling In Africa. talntng that perfection necessary to success in the completed Instrument. The least check or split in the wooden walls of this Instrument would seri ously Impair If It did not destroy Its usefulness. The sticks used in beating this peculiar drum have at their ends a knob of rubber. To send a message the beater will ascend a hill ln the evening when the air is still and of fers least resistance to the outward speeding sound waves from his drum. The sound created is very rough when Three d inti net sounds or near by. notes can be produced from each aide of this drum, according to where It la These are used to form a beaten. syllable alphabet, which permits tbs natives to transmit messages, no mat ter how complicated they may ba "Diamonds $150 per Carat This price Is for clear, perfect, absolutely flawless stones, ranging from one to two carats. Smaller sises guaranteed perfect at *125 per carat. gone there probably When these will be no more. Now is the tinie to invest In ailiamomi. Ami remember, that it IS an investment. Values will continue upward move. 170 - MAIN SX SALT LAKE CITY. UTAH The American Express 24 1 -2 Hours to California A new electric lighted train composed exclusively of Pullman Standard and Tourist Sleepe effective August 29th, will Leave Salt Lake City daily at 3:00 p. m. Arrive Lo» Angele» (next day) 2:30 p. and Dining Cart, m. Two other fast through trains for California leave Salt I.ake City daily. 50:0 p. m. anti 11:50 p. m. <tA(\ nn To Los Anseles and return, «p*Tv/.W\J until September 30, lim ited to October 31. 1010 . _ [ Ticket«, literature and Information at City Ticket Office, 159 Main Street. Bell Phone Exchange 16. Independent 1986. A POSITIVE and PER MANENT CURE FOR Drunkenness and Opium Diseases. n»n U no publicity, do aicknoM. L.di*. tmt*d M privately ». in Ib.ir own homo.. THE KEELEY IN STITUTE. 334 W. South Temple Street. Sell Lake City. Keeley THt (ure PHONOGRAPHS Ont an EDISON PHONOGRAPH on oooy forma— S3 eash and $1 par wook. The Talking Machine Co. 128 Slate Street ... Salt Lake City KODAK FINISHING POS EXPERT SEND YOUR WORK TO COMMERCIAL 151 MAtrt ST. PHOTOGRAPHERS Salt Late City SHIPLERS RUBBER STAMPS ■ IUUUI.II vininiw CHECI(8iït(i Full line Rubber Type Outfits and supplies In stock. Mail orders receive prompt attention. •ALT LAKE STAMP CO., Salt Lake City A Diatinction. Dolly—Does your husband coma home late at night often? Sibyl—No, dear. When he's lato he's always brought home. UTAH IMPLEMENT-VEHICLE CO. 135 to 139 Sute Street, Salt Lake City f-. * A FEW SPECIALTIES: Iron Age Potato Digger» P. fit O. Beet Puller» P. fit O. Potato Digger» P. fit O. Bed Plow» Jewel Stove» and Range» Buckeye Cider Mill» Where the Goods are Good Goods ii it The Hobble Skirt. "The hobble skirt, the jupe entra vee, is a very pretty and graceful new fashion, but it is rather inconveni ent," said Miss Ethel Barrymore at a dinner in Bristol, R. I. "This skirt is exceedingly tlifcht from the knees down, but for that matter, it is tight all over. A young woman in one of these hobble skirts came out of Sherry's on a spring »*• ternoon and proceeded, with some dif ficulty, to enter her motor car. "'What do you think of that skirt? 1 a man who was uassine said to his companion. " 'It reminds me,' the other an swered. 'of the bridge trains in the rush hours. Standing room only, and very little of that.' " A Queer Case. "When are they to be married?" "She doesn't know. She is worried because she is not quite sure of tack self." "That's a new one on me. I thought a girl worried when she wasn't quite sure of the man."—Louisville Courier Journal. Clean, Indeed. Mr. Flnick—"I tell you, Blanche, baseball is the cleanest sport in all the world." Mrs. Flnick—"You're crazy! Why didn't you just see that fellow they're cheering roll in the dirt at every base?" He Was From Missouri. "You're the tramp that took my cake from the window this tuuium^. Didn't you know better than that?* "Not then, mum. That was befort) 1 ate it."