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The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, November 23, 1912, Image 3

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88064430/1912-11-23/ed-1/seq-3/

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SYNOPSIS.
Mattland. a frank, free and un
young Phalladelphla girl. to taken
Colorado mountains by her uncle.
Maitland. James Armstrong.
s protege, falls in love with her.
ersistent woolng thrills the girl. but
esitates, and Armstrong goes east
business without a definite answer.
bears the story of a mining engi
Newbold. whose wife fell off a cliff
was so seriously hurt that he was
led to shoot her to prevent her be
este by wolves while he went for
swrkby, the old guide who tells the
gives Enid a package of letters
te says were found on the dead
's body. She reads the letters and
EItrby's request keeps them. While,
l_ mountain stream Enld is at
by a bear, which is mysteriou 'ly
A storm adds to the girl's terror.
a deluge transforms brook into
torrent. which sweeps Enid into
where abshe is rescued by a moun
ft after a thrllilng experience.
In great contusion upon diecov
a absence when the storm
Maitland and 010 Kirkby go in
of the girl. Enid discovers that
absle is sprained and that she is un
to walk Her mysterious rescuer
her to his camp. Enid goes to
to the strange man's bunk. Miner
breakfast for Enid, after which
go on tour of Inspection. The her
Enid of his unsuccessful attempt
the Maitisad campers. He admits
be Is also from Philadelpha. The
falls In love with Enid. The man
to a realization of his love for her.
asturally in that strange solitude the
of the girl and her rescuer be
snasatral and strained. The strang
of a wife he had who is dead.
says he has sworn to ever cherish
ory by living in solitude. He and
however, confess their love for
ether. She learns that he is the
who kblled his wife in the mountain.
discovers the writer of the letters
d'e wife to have been James
Newbold decides to start to
lemest for help. The man is
by the belief that he is unfaithful
i wle's memory, and Enl4 is tempt
tell him of the letters In her pos
Armstrong. accompanied by
sand Robert Maitland, find a note
ewbold had lbft in the deserted
sad know that the grl Is in his
whte brings a the actors to
Newbold returns from hunting
a d sees a man near the hut. It
Armstrong. who has at last lo
the missng girl, and he enters the
Armstrong pleads his love for
but she reminds him of his affec
-r Newbold's wife. He rowm In
and Unld orders him from her
Newbold returns opportunely.
rs the truth about Armstrong
wald bave killed him but for the
of Kirkby and Maitland.
saes upon the scene.
CHAPTER XXIIl.
The becoming End.
'Why did you interfere?" asked
when at last he got his
again, of Mailtand who still
hbl firmly although restraint was
uaseessary, the heat and fire of
passion being somewhat gone out
"I meant to kill him."
'd oughter die sure nut," draw
Klrkby, rising from where he
tess aeeling by Armstrong's
but I dos't !tow's bow ves'm
to be his easecutose. "He's all
tow, Miss Eid," said the old
"* 'rdd-he took a pillow from
bed sad slipped It under his head
toes exteuding his hands he lift
.J ezrlted almost distraught we
M her feet- 'taint fttin' for you
-a him."
"exclaimed aid, her limbs
the blood flowing away
her heart. her face deathly white,
aganlast the faintness that
with the reaction, while old
iapported and encouraged her.
God you came. I don't know
would have happened if you had
this man mistreated your"
Sobert Maitland suddenly, tight
his grip upon his hard breath
naresisttng passive prisoner.
s" answered his niece "He
a everything that a man should
Armstrong" continued her
set even be."
,ame in time, thank Godi" e nacu
Newbold.
•this time Arstraon, had recov
eoascilusness. To his other
for hatred were now added cbs
mortlbcatlio, shame. He had
overcome. He would have been
man and by Newbold's hands.
ethers had not laterfere. He
wished they had let his en
aloae. Well, e had lost every
but a chance fr rreveags oa
all
has been alone here with thbis
.Is this eabi fr a month," he
_wckly. "I was williMg to toake
- spite of that, but-"
made that damned seuggestion
" erled Newbold, his rage ra
"I dont know who ya
name is Robert Maitland, sad
If you wera her father, I
alt swear--"
im't necessary to swear any
" aswered Mattland sereely.
this child, and I belleve Im
to iSad out this man."
you. Uncle Robert," said
aesfullyf, comngs nearer to him
he spoka. "No man coud have
mee for me thas Mr. Newbold
an no one could have beeno moar
te of me As for you." she
to Armstrowa, who now slowly
.t hIs fee at. "your inslnuations
as re on a par with your
agalast the dead womna. b'
sitempt."
did be say about her?" aqked
know my story?" asked New
mid that my wife had been n
to me-with him-and that. he
-emed to take her back. Great
It was true," saurled Arm
ll Ma·lotiad ecold do to
-Newbol's rush but i the end
ol ·raih who meet genstlvely
"That's a damned lie," he said quiet
ly with his usual drawling voice.
"You can say so," laughed Arm
strong, "but that doesn't alter the
facts."
"And I can prove it," answered the
old man triumphantly.
It was coming, the secret that she
had tried to conceal was about to be
revealed, thought Enid. She made a
movement toward the old man. She
opened her mouth to bid him be silent
and then stopped. It would be use
less she knew. The determination
was no longer hers. The direction of
affairs had been withdrawn from her.
After all it was better that the unlov
ing wife should be proved faithful,
even If her husband's cherished mem
ory of -er love for him had to be de
stroyed thereby. Helpless she list
ened, knowing full well what the old
frontiersman's next word would be.
"Prove it." mocked Armstrong.
"How?"
"By your own hand, out of your own
mouth, you dog," thundered old Kirk
by. "Miss Enid, where are them let
ters I give you?"
"I-1-" faltered the girl, but there
was no escape from the keen glance of
the old man; her hand went to the
bosom of her tunic.
"Letters," exclaimed Armstrong.
"What letters?"
"These," answered Enid Maitland,
holding up the packet.
Armstrong reached for them, but
Kirkby again interposed.
"No, you don't," he said dryly.
"Them ain't for your eyes yet. Mr.
Newbold, I found them letters on the
little shelf where your wife first struck
when she fell over onto the butte
where she died. I figured out her
dress was tore open there, and them
letters she was carrying fell out and
lodged there. We had ropes an' we
went down over the rocks that way.
I went first an' I picked 'em up. I nev
er told nobody about it, an' I never
showed 'em to a single human bela'
until I give 'em to Miss Maitland at
the camp"
"Why not?" asked Newbold, taking
the letters.
"Therj wasn't no good tellin' nobody
then, jest for the sake o' stirrin' up
trouble."
"But why did you give them to her
at last?"
"Because I was afeered she might
fall in love with Armstrong. I sup
posed she'd know his writin', but w'en
she didn't I Just let her keep 'em
anyway. I knowed it'd all come out
somehow; AjsetrtJ. a-Qod.lta as to
spite of all the damned scoundrelh on
earth like this 'un."
"Are theeo letters addressed to my
dead wife?" asked Newbold.
'"They are," answered Enid Malt
land. "Look and see."
"And did Mr. Armstrong write
them?"
"He'll deny it. I suppose," answered
Kirkby.
"But I am familiar with his hand
writing," said Maitland.
Taking the still unopened packet
from Newbold, he opened it, examined
I one of the letters and sanded them all
back.
"There is no doubt about it," he
said. "It's Armstrong's hand, d
swear to it."
"Oh, I'll acknowledge them," said
Armstrong, seeing the absolute futil
Ity of further denial. He had forgot
ten all about the letters. He had not
dreamed they were in existeace.
"You've got me beat between you; the
cards are stacked against me. rve
done my damndest"--ad andeed that
was true.
Well, he bad played a great gamer
battling for a high stake be had stack
at nothing. A career in which some
good had mtngled with much bad was
now at an sed. He had lost utterly;
would he show htmself a good loser?
"Mr. Armstrong," said Newbold
quietly, extending his hand. "here are
your letters."
"What do you mean?"
" am not in the habit of reading let
toe addrbessed to other peorle without
permission, and whon the recipduet of
them is dead kls sacne. I am doublty
0bound."
"You're a damned fool," cried Arm
strong contemptuodusly
S"That kild of a chargel frm yor
kind of a man Is perhas the highest
domplatnt you could pay me I don't
Sknow whether I shall ever get rid of
the doubt you have tried to lodge i
I my soul about my dead rlfe, but-"
"There ain't no doubt about it." pro
7' tested old Klrkby earnestly. "re
r. read them letters a hundred time.
a over, havin' no scruples whatsoever,
an' In every one of 'em he was beg'
d gin' an' pleadian' wfth her to go away
a with him an' fghtln' her refusal to do
0 it I guess I've got to admit that she
d didn't love you none, Newbold. an' she
0 did love this bhere wuthless Armstrong,
* but for the sake of her reputation, r1
y prove to you all from them letters of
a hisan, from his own words, that there
t didn't live a cleaner hearted, more vtlr
I tuous upright feemale than that there
a ife of yourn, even If she didn't love
d you. It's God's truth an' you kin take
it from me."
r- "Mr. Armstrong." cried Enld Malt
land, interposing at this Juncture. "Not
very long aCo I told you I Uiked you
I- better than uay man I had ever seen.
0 I thought perhaps I might have loved
yt you. and that was true. You have
played the coward's part urs the liar's
5- part tn this room-"
"Did I fght him like a coward?"
to asked Armstrong
d "No" answered Hlwbold tor her, re
Smemberig the mstru ie; "'ye fotgh
I mean"
Ar A Rovanc¢ oC DoY'
}:
x C Grua Ta$! m y.
- ýý- alter yt e-°tk C~aOrd ý
-t 1, ay~wl,'" :A. (k S,isarl
- _ = mmtztri'tioe by ~aswerr hý ývaur
It Was the Woman Who Brok the Silenc
s·~· V # i c' >s- S
5·'
( -~~-7II,
/47
/r
I-· -
A - I
It Wa h oa h SoeteSlne
Singular perversion of language and
thought there! If two struggled like
wild beasts that was fighting like men!
"But let that pass," continued the
woman. "I don't deny your physical
courage, but I am going to appeal to
another kind of a courage which I be
lieve you possess. You have showed
your evil side here in this room, but
I don't believe that's the only side you
have, else I couldn't have liked you in
thbe eat. -Xa . - .- ,-cruw
against two wopen; One dead and one
living. It makes little difference what
you say about me. I need no defense
and no Justification in the eyes of
those here who love me, and for the
rest of the world I don't care. But you
have slain this man's confidence in a
woman he once loved, and who be
thought loved him. As you are a man.
tell him that it was a lie and that shbe
was innocent of anything else although
she did love you."
What a singular situation, an obser
ver who knew all might have reflect
ed! Here was Enid Maitland pleading
for the good name of the woman who
had married the man she now loved,
and whom by rights she should have
Jealously hated.
"You ask me more thn I can--"
faltered Armstrong yet greatly moved
by this touching appeal to his better
self.
-"Let him speak no word," protested
Newbold quickly. "I wouldn't believe
him on his oath."
"Steady now, steady," interposed
Kirkby with his frontier instinct for
fair play, "the man's down, Newbold.
don't hit him now."
"Give him a chance," added Maltd
land earnestly.
"You would not believe me, eht"
laughed Armstrong horribly, "well
then this is what I say, whether it is
true or a He you can be the Judge."
What was he about to say? They
all recognised instinctively that his
forthcoming deliverance would be %
final one. Would good or evil domin
ate him now? aid Maitland had
made herplem and it had been a pow
erful one; the man did truly love
the woman who urged him; there was
nothing left for him but a chance that
she should thiak better of him than
he merited; be had come to the end
of his resources. And Enld Maitland
spoke again as he hesitated.
"0, think, think before you speak."
she cried.
"If I thought," answered Arm
" strong suickly, "I should go mad. New
i bold, your wife was as pure as the
snow; that she loved me I cannot and
will not deny, she married you in a
fit of Jealousy and anger after a quar
rel between us in which I was to
blame, and when I came back to the
camp in your absence, I strove to
make it up and used every argument
I that I possesed to get her to leave
you and to live with me. Although
she had no love for you she was too
good and too true a woman for that.
P Now you've got the truth, damn you,
believe it or not as you like. Miss
Maitland." be added swiftly. "If I had
met you sooner. I might have bee
a better man. Good bye."
t He turned suddenly and none pro
i venting. indeed it was not possible, he
ran to the outer door; as be did so
his hand snatched-something that lay
Son the chest of drawers There was
Sflash of light as he drew in his arm
but none saw what it was. In a few
seconds he was outside the door The
table was between old Kirkby and the
exit; Maitland and Newbold were
I mesrest The old ma eame to his
ssas inrL ,
"After him,." he cried, "be means-"
But before anybody could stir the
dull report of a pistol come through
the open door!
They found Armstrong lying on his
back in the snowy path, his face as
white as the drift that pillowed his
head, Newbold's heavy revolver still
clutched in his right hand and a
bloody welling smudge on his left
breast ever his heart. It was the wo
w t.b-~ mk tihm. sj*-*
"Oh." she sobbed, "it can't be-"
"Dead," said Maitland solemnly.
"And it might have been by my
hand," auttered Newbold to himself
In horror.
"Hell never cause no more trouble
to nobody in this world, Miss Enid an'
gents." said old Kirkby gravely "Well.
he was a damned fool an' a damned
villain, in some ways," contimnued the
old frontiersman reflectively in the as
lence broken otherwise only by the
woman's sobbing breaths. "but he had
some of the qualities that go to make
a man, an' I ain't doubtin' but what
them last words of his was mighty
near true. Ef he had met a girl like
you earlier in his life, he mought have
been a different man."
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Draught or Joy.
The great library was the prettlest
room In Robert Maitland's magnificent
mansion in Denver's most favored res
idence section. It was a long, low
studded room with a heavy beamed
ceiling. The low book cases, about
five feet high, ran between all the
windows and doors on all side- of the
room. At mone end there was a huge
open fire place built of rough stone,
and as it was winter a cheerful fre
of logs blased on the hearth. It was
a man's room preeminently. The
drawing-room across the hall was Mrs.
Maitland's domain, but the library r
fsocted he. husband's picturesque if
somewhat erratic taste. On the
walls there were pictures of
the west by Remington, March
and, Duntoa, Dixon and others,
and to let them off, finely mount
ed beads of bear and deer and buffalo.
Swords and other arms stood here and
there. The writing table was massive
and the chairs easy, comfortable and
invitint The floor was strewn with
robes and rugs. From the windows
facing westward, since the house was
set on a high hill, one could see the
great rampart of the range.
There were three men in the room
on that brilliant morning early in Jan
uary something like a month after
these adventures in the mountains
which have been so veraciously
set forth. Two of them were the
brothers Maitland: the third was New
bold.
The shock produced upon Enid Malt
land by the death of Armstrong to
gether with the tremendous' episodes
that had preceded it had utterly pros
strated her. They had spent the
night , the hut in the mountains and
had decided that the woman must be
taken back to the settlements some
way at all hazards.
The wit of old Kirkby had effected
a solution of the problem. using a
means certainly as old as Napoleon
and the passage of his cannon over
the Great St. Bernard-and perhaps as
old as Hannibal! They had made a
rude sled from the trunk of a pine
whicb they hollowed out and provided
with a back and ranners. There was
no lack of fur robes and blankets for
her comfort
Wherer It v :s practicab.e ti
'I l b
// '., 'Is
/· -
rrZ! .N
three mnn hitched themselves to the
sled with ropes and dragged it and
Enid over the snow. Of course for
miles down the canon it was Inm,ossi
ble to use the sled. When the way
was comparatively easy the woman.
supported by the two men, Newbold
and Maitland, made shift to get along
afoot. When it became too difficult
for her, .cwbold picked her up as he
had done before and assisted by Mait
land, carried her bodily to the next
resting place. At these times Kirkby
looked after the sled.
They had managed to reach the tem
porary hut in the old camp the first
night and rested there. They gath
ered up their sleeping bags and tents
and resumed their journey in the
morning. They were stronZ men, and
save for old Kirkby. young. It was a
desperate endeavor but they carried it
through.
Whea they hit the open trails the
sledding was easy and they made
great progress. After a week of ter
rific going, they struck the railroad,
and the next day found them all safe
in Maitland's house in Denver
To Mr. Stephen Maitland his daugh
ter was as one who had risen from
the dead And indeed, when he first
saw her, she looked like death itself.
No one had known how terrible that
journey had been to the woman Her
three faithful attendants had surmised
something, but in spite of all even
they did not realize that in these last
days she had been sustained only by
the most violent effort of her will. She
had no sooner reached the house.
greeted her father, her aunt and the
children, then she collapsed utterly
The wonder was, said the physician,
not that she did it then but that she
had not done it before. For a short
time it appeared as if her illress might
be serious, but youtu. vigor, a strong
body and a good constitution, a heart
now free from care and apprehension
and a great desire to live and love
and be loved, worked wonders.
Newbold had enjoyed no opportunity
for private conversation with the wo
man he loved, whicu was perhaps just
as well. He had the task of readjust
ing himself to changed conditions; not
only to a different environment, but to
strange and unusual departures from
his long cherished view points
He could no longer doubt Arm
strong': final testimony to the purity
of his wife, although he had burned
the letters unread, and by the same
token he could no longer cherish the
dream that she had loved him and him
-~k.eh_ o words tha had re
ceded tat pitmol ihot -W -mae -W
possible for him to -take Enid Malt
land as his wife without doing violence
to his sense of honor or his self-re
spect. Armstrong had made that
I much reparation. And Newbold could
not doubt that the other had known
what would be the result of his speech
I and had chosen his words deliberately;
I score that last action to his credit. He
was a sensitive man, however; he
realized the brutal and beast-like part
Things We're Ashamed Of
Why Is It That Women Always Seem
to Have Something to Apolo
gize Fort
Isn't It queer the sort of thinrs we
are ashamed of? queries a western
woman writer. How often do we hear
people apologizing profusely because
they happen to live in an unfashion
able part of town. They will explain
and explain ad nauseam how they
came to be living In that house and
bow very awkward it is having that
class of neighbors.
I have come to the conclusion it is
ittle short of a crime not to live in
the fashionable part of the city.
And then relations. Everybody
seems to be ashamed of at least one
relation. In most cases the only ones
they are proud of are dead oned, a
loag time dead, and very remote re
lations at that. But the living rela
tions always seem to be a cause of
shame-they never will live in the
right districts, build the right kind
of house, bring up their children sty
lishly or indulge in the right kind of
trade. Female relations will insist
upon marrying undesirable husbands.
and male relations always manage to
acquire vulgar or dowdy wives.
One stylish lady is wont to sigh
elegantly as she murmurs "poor dear
George-peculiar wife, you know; I've
tried, but I really can't include them
In my social affairs, you know."
But of all the shameful shame pro
ducers the behavior of our babies is
the shamiest.
Our babies always will dirty their
pinnles, as for candy, wipe jammy
angers on the visitor's coat, demand
attention persistently and vociferous
ly, knock over the tea cups. spread
the cake crumbs all over the best
carpet and perpetrate all the other
hundred aid one misdemeanors that
the dear lambs are heir to. They all
do it sometimes and they all do it
always on the days we earnestly
yearn for them to make a good im
pression.
So why are we ashamed of them
for benlg normal? Why do we all ex
plain at great length how Tommy
never behaves like this on ordinary
occasions and why do we persist I
being mortified so poignantly?-Ex
change.
Real American Cat.
A New York publishlng firm whos
premises occupy the sixth and sev
eath foors of one of the city's "SkY
he and Armstrong had both played be
fore this toma ni they both loved. how
they had: battIed lie salage aninals
and lhoa but lor a llucky iiterpiostion
lie would ha;vt' added murder to his
other disa:t bilit ies.
lie IaI IL.otest emoiigh to say to him.
self that lie loulld hlave done the salme
thing over under the samelnt circium
stances, but that did not absolve his
conscicence. lie did not know how the
womalni looked at the transaction or
looked at himt, and he had Oot enjoyed
one moment alone with heIr. In all
that hatl transi:ired since that morn
ing in the hut, the four had naturally
and inevitably remained inseparably
together
They had buried Armstrong in the
snow. Robert Maitland saying over
hint a brief but fervent petition In
which even Newbold joined. Enid
Maitland herself had repeated elo
quently to her uncl!e and old Kirkby
that night before the fire the story of
her rescue from the flood by this man,
how he had carried her in the storm
to the hut and how he had treated her
since; and Maitland had afterwards
repeated her account to his brother in
Denver.
Maitland had insisted that Newbold
share his hospitality, but that young
man had refused. Klrkby had a little
place not far from Denver and easily
accessible to it, and the old man had
gladly taken the younger one with
him. Newbold had been in a fever of
anxiety over Enid Maitlana's illness,
but his alarm had soon been dispelled
by the physician's assurance, and
there was nothing now left for him
but to wait until she could see him.
He Inquired for her morning and even
ing at the great house on the hill;
he kept her room a bower of beauty
with priceless blossoms, but be had
sent no word
Robert Maitland had promised to let
him know, however, so soon as Enid
could see him, aid it was in pursuance
of a telephone message that he was in
the library that morning.
He had not yet become accustomed
to the world; he had lived so long
alone that he had grown somewhat shy
and retiring; the habits and customs 1
of years were not to be lightly thrown
aside in a week or a month. He had
sought no interview with Enld's father
heretofore; Indeed had rather avoided
it, but on this morning he had asked
for it. and when Robert Maitland
would have withdrawn he jegged him
to remain
"Mr. Maitland." Newbold began. ".I
f .t you know my _uafort
"1 have heard the general outlines
of it. sir, from my brother and others."
answered the other kindly.
"I need not dwell upon it further
then. Although my hair is tinged with
gray and doubtless I look much older.
I was only twentyeight on my last
birthday. I was not born in this see
tion of the country, my home was in
Baltimore."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
scrapers" has two black cats which
have been in Its service for several
years. These cats are usually doml
ciled in the editorial department on
the seventh floor, where they have
many friends among the employers.
Recently for certain reasons the cats
were "degraded" to the printing de
partment on the sixth foor. This
treatment they naturally resented,
and the elder, graver and more re
sourceful of the two has hit upon the
following ingenious expedient to re
gain his old haunts and friends. Ev
ery morning at eight o'clock he waits
at the gates of an ascending elevator
and entering with the connivance of
the operator is conveyed to the sev
enth floor, where he alights. The cat
is somewhat "advanced in years" and
moreover, being an American cititen
does not see the force of climbing a
"stairway" when he can go up by the
elevator.
interesting Pipes.
Some people have found pipe eel'
lecting a fascinating hobby. A Bir
mingham enthusiast. Willam Braggs,
died some years ago, leaving a collec
tion of seven thousand pipes, each
one different from the other. The
gems of the collection were the
Broseley clays. of which there were
four hundred specimens. Pipes were
made at Broseley long before the in
troduction of tobacco into this coun
try, for the medicinal smoking of na
tive herbs, and some of the clays in
the Bragge collection were said to be
500 years old. It also included early
knockrogheny pipes-the Irish clays
which Tennyson preferred above all
others.-London Chronicle.
Hard Work to Find Publisher.
It is not generally known that J. H.
Shorthouse had some dimculty in get
ting his famous historical romance,
"John Inglesant," into print.
Shorthouse was engaged ten years
in writing the book. and every page
as he wrote it he submitted to the
discriminating criticism of his wiftte
When the story was finisbed no pub
llsher would accept it. Pour years
passed away and then Shorthouse re
solved to publish 100 copies at his
own expense When this was done a
copy came into the bands of Alexan
der Macmillan. who recognised the
p merit of the novel, and published it.
with the result that all the weld
knows.
Patience is
Jo Virtu
Me Impatient with Backache
"E Too patiently do\
S•S *" Wmany women en
dure backache,
languor, dizziness
and urinary ills,
Sthinking them part
of woman's lot.
Oft, n it is only
I. " weak kidneys and
_+- Doan's Kidney
, Pills would care
the case.
, 1tt ..lit it CAQ .
t. II I t . .. .. Madis. n St..
- I ,, v , I n or .uift . table
S .. , ,, :1 my h Nh.,I and
• , . R  t a b u rten .
. I U 1 i h I at tr.u
S a , , , friom the
k . " I i..o , :, h to be
Get Doan's at Any Dlrs Store. SO a Boa
DOAN'S KI*DLNLEY
lOSTER*MILB'JRN CO.. Buffalo. New York
i  li·l- t. r SMARTING_
SORE LIDS
W. N. U.. LITTLE ROCK, No. 47-1912.
Mixed Up Terms.
"Are ylou goiing to0 i-L w himt lip'"
"1 Will, If it tn,.s to a show-down."
. a ~bnn er tt" why he as such meiene
that quitlentparethX I N F. It not
n huil, u* te -v-tenW biy ut taken reWooer.
ALr'. prent --l ti ,1 e:la y ar or Tunte
l didntformul ka at had onruggit.. AArdenv.
Parches.
"HSuite saor-ysll. it isn'tmade his liuch ofe a Sa
atune, but that why he has such a
terrible tirst."nscr
Wily Wooer.
Ardent Suitor--" ol meaty fortune at
your fet." Fair ladtl -"Your fortune!
I didn t know you had one." Ardent
Suitor-"Well, it isn't much of a for
tune, but it will look large beside
those tiny feet."--loston Transcript.
Counsel of Despair.
"I want a piece of meat without any
bone, fat or gristle." said the bride,
on her first trip to market "Yes,
ma'am," replied the butcher. "1
would suggest that you take an egg."
-Youth's Companion.
After Dinner Joke.
In the great Pecos valley apple
country of New Mexico the latest ar
rival is always asked:
"What is worse than biting into an
apple and finding a worm?"
He is stumped. They tell him.
"Finding half a worm."
Diana of the Air.
The beautiful and athletic Eleanora
Sears, at a luncheon at Sherry's, said
of aviation:
"I like the biplane well enough, and
the monoplane I am simply head over
heels in love with."
To this remark one of Miss Sears'
many unsuccessful suitors answered
reproachfully:
"Ah. another case of man being sup
planted by machinery!"
GOOD NAME.
Weeton-I'm going to call my prI
ate golf links Bunker HIlL
Preston-Why?
Weston-I can never win on them.
SCOFFERS
Often Make the Staunchest Couveg
The man who scofs at an idea
doctrine which he does nom tfully o
derstand has at least the courage to
show where be stands.
The gospel of Health has many c
verts who formerly laughed at the
idea that eofee and tea, for eampls,
ever hurt anyone. Upon looiagl into
the matter serloialy, often at the mseg
gestion of a friend, such paraes
hayv found that Postum and a rid's
advi.e bave been their salvation.
"My sister was employed ia an mi
ern city where she bad to do ealeulat.
ing," writes an Okla. girL "She me
- fered with bheadache until she was a
most unftted for duty.
"Her landlady persuaded her to gu
Scoffee and use Postum and tin a few
Sdays she was entirely ree from head"
I ache." (Tea is Just as ijuros as
* cotee beause It contalns coffeet, the
I same drug found in cofee.) "Bhe tol
Sher employer about it. and oa trying
It, he had the same experience.
"My father and I have both atmfed
I much from nervous headache sine I
a cadl remember, but we scoifed at the
V idea advanced by my sister, that ml
5 fee was the cause of our trouble.
S"However, we finally quit coffee and
began usitng Postum. Father has had
but one headacbe now In tour yearn,
due to a severe cold, and I have lost
. my headaches and soar stomach
* which I am now convinced came from
. coffee.
"A cup of good, hot Postum is mae
a bisfying to me when I do not carn to
e at a meal. Circumstances cased
e me to locate in a new constry ad I
f teared I would not be able to get my
> favorite drink, Poetum, but I was
a relieved to find that a fuall sapply to
, kept here with a heavy demand for
a It." Name given by Poetnm Co.
a Battle Creek, Mich.
a- Read "The Road to Wellville," is
Spkgs. "There's a \Ireason."
t, yve' rea the Ie**e ettert A ame
d *e* esses fenm Ur te thee YI'be
I Iws eeme .. -m ee e U me.

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