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frf" it? "W «. fg is He holds out his arms, and with out a word Elspeth goes into them. She has obtained the happiness she had never dared dream would be hers. And so that spot, which had become the •cene of the darkest tragedy in the lives of both, becomes also to both th9 dearest spot on earth. [THE END.] A Romance—By Hannah B. McKenzie. i- *¥*++**+***+*+******¥¥¥¥& '•}, CHAPTER XII. Two months later, on a stormy day ti late October, Magnus Halcrow and Blspeth. Troil are standing together within sigiht of the Rowan Crag. It Is probably the last time they shall do •o, for BlBpeth leaves Orkney with Lady Westray tomorrow. The West fay children have been proved the heirs of her late husband's property, and Crag Castle will be shut up and nninhabited during their minority. The horror of that terrible day somes back again to Elspeth, and she shudders involuntarily. Then Magnus lays slowly "You stiver, Miss Troil. Forgive me Tor alluding to that terrible time, but I must do so just this once. I have no wish to speak against the dead, but I wish to disabuse your mind of the idea that I loved Lilith Stuart. She Cas elnated, enthralled me, as she had done other men before—that was all. When I saw her as she was—her beautiful exterior merely a covering for a warped and self-engrossed soul—my heart turned from her with repulsion." "Hush!" says Elspeth gently. "Re member she is dead. We must deal kindly with her now. She is in God's hands." Magnus took the womanly little hand and held it for a minute. He does not tell her—he does not think she knows —what he himself is sure of—that Lil ith Stuart had met her death in trying to compass that of another. "Tell me the truth, Elspeth," he says •uddenly. He has not called her Els peth for years, and the girl's face be comes suddenly flooded with crimson. "Do you think I loved her?" "I thought," answered Elspeth •lowly, tracing lines with an umbrella on the damp path, "that you were very near doing so, Dr. Halcrow." "And i£ I should tell you now," said Dr. Halcrow, very calmly, though some strange emotion throbs beneath the outward calm, "that I have learned lately what I have never realized be fore—that it is some one else who had the Innermost place in my heart during that foolish enthralment—what would you say, Elspeth? And if I asked you not to go away tomorrow, or, if you do, to come back soon to the dear old island, and to a heart and home wait ing for you, what would you say, Els peth?" The hand in his gives one quick, •harp quiver. He can feel it3 pulse bounding wildly. "Why do you ask these questions, Dr. Halcrow? Is it out of pity?" "Pity?" he repeats. "Nay. Elspeth pity would never make me ask a woman to be my wife. It is because I love you, dear, with all my heart. How could I help it—I, who have known you so well, so closely, so intimately these lafit months—who have seen your quiet brave heroism, your womanly gentle ness, your self-sacrifice, your sweet charity and forgiveness? It was you who Bhowed me what love really means. You -will come, you will love me, dear, will you not?" ation A SHORT STORY. It occurred in the most unromantic way, and amid the most prosaic sur roundings. There is probably no po sition in the world more fatal to ro mance, or more likely to crush all su perfluous sentiment out of a man'3 nature, than that of a parish doctor. The scenes of squalid misery he is com pelled every day to witness are more likely to blunt and exhaust the sense of pity in the average man than to develop It by exercise, especially when a little experience has shown how eloeely they are associated with vice and deceit, and how certain is the man who gives way to his first impulsive Instinct of charity to awake sooner or later to the knowledge that he has been cheated 'and laughed at ten times by specious rogues for once that he has been of any real help to the un fortunate. And he is apt to become cynical in consequence. Richard Falconer had started In life with more rather than les3 of the aaual romance and unpractical senti ment of youth. The last thing he had thought of had been the hard realities of life. And, as a natural consequence those hard realities .were now assert ing themselves and forcing themselves •pan his-attention more and more ev •ry day in ih£ hard struggle to estab lish. hlmself in j^ractice on the slender hMts ot aparlsh appointment in a big town where he was ai yet Jfcaown and had a host of wealth competitors. It was so different :. from the career his glowing anticipa tions had pictured in the happy old college days. He had left the univer sity with a good degree, and his chances of ultimate success were, most highly estimated by those professional friends who knew him best but he had himself almost lost heart. He looked every day with sinking spirits and lengthening face on his young, wife and son—now a rapidly growing boy with a portentous appetite, whom he must soon begin to think of placing at school—and his 'heart sank lower still one morning when the only visi tor to his surgery was a ragged mes senger, who produced from his pocket a dirty and much-folded slip of paper, which, on being smoothed out, proved to be only the usual parish order to visit a pauper patient in the poorest quarter of the town. It looked just like any other such as he was In the daily habit of receiving, and he glanced at it almost mechanically as he an swered: 'Peter Ingram, 3 Paradise Row—ur gent.' Very well, I shall be there in about half an hour." It was not a promising duty, but it was at least better than to sit eating his own heart in the bitterness of enforced idleness, as he had too oft en been compelled to do of late so, waiting only to put his stethoscope and thermometer in his pocket, he seized hi3 umbrella and started. The streets through which he passed to his destin ation, each darker and dirtier and more thickly studded with public houses than the last, seemed to his morbid fancy to symbolize his own position and prospects. In one of the darkest and dirtiest of all he stopped before a house even in such a neighborhood was conspicuous for its neglected ap pearance. The paint had long ago peeled in great patches off the door, and more than half the panes of glass were broken In the window, while the remaining ones were perfectly opaque with dust and cobwebs. Nine out of ten persons would have passed the house as uninhabited, but Dr. Falconer knew better. Finding his knock un answered, he tried the latch, but the door was locked. Again he rapped sharply, this time with the handle of his umbrella, and after a second repe tition a key grated in the lock, the door opened three Inches, and a glit tering eye, under a red bushy eyebrow, sharply scrutinized him from behind it. Then it closed again he heard a chain unfasten, the door was opened just wide enough to admit him, and closed, locked, and chained behind him the moment he had entered. "Are you afraid of thieves, my friend?" said the doctor,glancing round the four bare walls as well as the light permitted. "You need hardly be nerovus on that score, I think." "No," said the man who had admit ted him "one who has parted with the very last rag and stick he can spare has at least that consolation. Vacuus cantabit, you know. But I have still a little pride left, and don't like every one to see me in this plight." "Ah," said Falconer, catching him by the arm to draw him near the light, "you have come down in the world, then. Was it drink? Be frank with me." "I won't deny that drink began it," he answered, quietly. "But don't make a mistake, doctor drink isn't the cause of my present illness. I was once a university man myself,and looking for ward to a profession. Drink ruined my prospects, and I found myself a private soldier instead. But I- pulled up. I haven't tasted drink for many years. An old wound received at Abu Klea, and repeated doses of malaria have brought me to my present condi tion." "Am I to understand, then," said the doctor, "that you are yourself the pa tient I was sent for to see? Why are you not in bed, then?" "Because there is no one to open the door but myself. I am alone in the house—and in the world. But when you see my bed," he added, grimly, "you will not wonder that I like to keep out of it as long as I can." "You ought to be in it now," said the doctor, and, indeed, as he spoke the man began to shiver and tremble, and crying with chattering teeth, "Oh —h—h! it's on me again!" clutched at the solitary chair that stood in the room,and sat down in such a paroxysm of shuddering that the floor shook be neath him, and the very window rat tled in its frame. The doctor hastily produced his hypodermic case, and looked around in vain for a jug of water., Opening a door behind him, he stepped into a room almost as bare as the first, except that a heap of rags lay in one corner and a handful of .fire smoldered in the rusty grate. A water jug and a cup and plate stood upon the floor closi to the wall, but on lift ing the jug he found it empty. Re turning to his patient, he found the fit had terminated in violent sickness. "My poor fellow," said he, as soon as this had subsided, "you must go to bed and have a nurse to look after you. I shall have you taken to the Infirmary at once. Jtiet lie down, here for arfew minutes until I can procure a fly, and I will have you there in a Jiffy- I will take you myself, so there will be no ed him by the arm and shrieked out: But to hi* MtyrlM the patient clutch v^T -T »s oftbe P^*v i:: WfV-i tM i- thr ed him by thearm and shrinked out: "No, doctor, B^! anything rather than that I would sooner die on the floor! I won't go, I tell yout If you *au't do me any good here, just leave me ajone but go to Infirmary or hospital flfjlon't, or have a nurse fussing about me either. I've fought through fct bad this before without any help^dtia I will again! Go!"\he fairly .yelled \Jn his excitement "go and leav^jpe to get through It without yohr h«p." "Oho!" muttered the doctor to him self, "so it will be the asylum instead of the infirmary. Don't agitate your self, my friend," -he continued to his patient "if you prefer misery to" com fort, and sickness to health, that's your own affair. I'm not going to force any kindness on you. You shall-gtay here I can't pass any harsher lenience $n you than that. Now will you be good enough to strip to the waist, and let me overhaul you thoroughly. You haven't had malarial fever so long as you say without enlarged spleen, or liver, I'll, be bound." The man sulkily took off his coat and waistcoat. "Don't ask me to strip any further, doctor. It's too cold and, to confess the truth, I haven't had my clothes off for weeks, and I'm ash&hied you should see them." "All the more reason for taking them off now," said the doctor. "Man, how can you endure it? It is enough to breed a fever in itself! Off with them!" and he caught hold of him to help him to remove them. But the other wriggled from his grasp, and planted himself in a corner of the room, with his hands clutching his waist as far round as he could reach. "Don't be such a howling fool!" said the doctor, with as much good nature as he could command under the cir cumstances. "Listen to me, my friend. You have contracted liver and enlarged spleen at this moment, or I'm very much mistaken. But you have worse than that. I felt something when I caught hold of you a moment ago, and I'm afraid it's a malignant tumor of the most serious kind. A? I live," he went on, stepping close to him, and passing his- hand round the waist, in spite of efforts to prevent him, "I can make out more than one even through your clothes. Come, come! Be a lit tle more reasonable. Let me get' you to bed and examine you properly. You're not fit to be on your feet at this moment. Come, my poor fellow, don't play the fool any longer. If you do, I shall have to conclude you a mad man, and take measures accordingly. Don't force me to that." "Well, doctor, I give- in then. Just step into the other room while I un dress, please, and I'll call when you're to come in." The doctor raised his eyebrows at this modest request, but thought it best to humor him, and went into the outer room, closing the door behind him. As he did so, he heard the key turned in the lock on the other side. In another minute, however, it was turn ed again, and a few seconds later he heard the voice of his patient: "Come in now, doctor." Entering, he found him on a ragged mattress that lay on the floor, covered with a dirty blanket and the coat and trousers he had been wearing. Kneeling down beside him, hp-proceeded to examine him in regu lar professional fashion, but to his amazement he entirely failed to detect any sign* of the tumors he had been confident he felt through his patient's clothes. The man's emaciation was extreme, and had any such abnormal swelling been present it could not have escaped his observation But there was none, and Falconer was obliged to admit to himself that his first diag nosis was incorrect. He could find no trace of the hard knotty swellings he had been so sure he felt beneath the clothes. There was.enough, however, to warrant a grave view of the case, and he exerted all his eloquence to per suade the patient to consent to be to the infirmary, but without taken effect. (To be Continued.) A "LUCKY" LAWYER. Numerous instances are given of the power that Mr. Rufus Choate possessed over a jury, concealing it even at th# time he was exercising it with the most potent effect. Mr. E. P. Whipple in stances two notable cases of this kind: One resolute juryman said to'another, as he entered the "box": "Now, mind you, there Is one man in this crowd who will not give a ver dict for the client of that man Choate'. Why, sir, he is the great corrupter of juries. I know all his arts. He is en gaged by fellows who wish to subvert justice between man and man. I hate him with my whole heart and soul!" When the verdict was given for Choate's client, with hardly a discus sion In the jujy-room, the wonder was expressed that this obstinate member of the conclave agreed so readily with the rest "Oh," he said, "the case was a plain one. Choate was right this time and you know It would have been scandal ous for me to violate justice because I had a prejudice against the person who supported it Let him appear before us in a case where Is palpably wrong, and I will show you that I'm all right, fee never can humbug me!" On another occasion a hard-headed, strong-hearted, well-educated farmer wai one of a Jury that gave five ver dicts In succession for Choate's clients. He said: "I did not think much of his flights of fancy but'I considered him a very .lucky lawyer, for there was not one of those five cases that came before us where lie wasn't on the right side." If you would succeed In life, learn ta know wbat you can't dob 1 a fMVV+M-AV y* 4 fodt V» trr y.fi 1 RAVAGES OF CANCER. 41 ITS INCRBA8B HERE ENGLAND. OfMladnI(«)«* ta Bleta Food tba Prin cipal Caaea—Th*. Catted State* Hat* in Arai? of 100,000 Canc«r ViotUnr-— WeU-Fed Ptopli An Proof of Heredity. "Do you believe in heredity, Mrs. Simpson?" "Indeed, I do every mean trait Bobby has I can trace right back to his father." "Does his father be lieve in heredity, too?" "Yes, he traces Bobby's faults all back to me." Carried Million! of mft mm WM Victim*. /. 'A^ S iV'W 'V The frightful increase in the ravages made by cancer Is one of the most alarming facts of the closing century. Sir William M. Banks, the eminent' English surgeon, attributes the in crease in the mortality from cancer to overindulgence in eating rich foods. Sir William is a cancer expert of long experience and wide repute. In the United States, according to competent authority, there is a vast army of 100, 000 victims of cancer. The army is increasing all the time, not only in size, but out of proportion to the nat ural, increase of population. Dr. G. Betton Massey of Philadelphia has gathered a mass of statistics, and pub lished an* article based on them, show ing that in seven of the largest cities in the country—excluding Chicago, whose records, presumably, are too re cent to be of value—with a combined population of 8,207,464 in 1870, the ra tion of deaths from cancer in that year was 35.4 to 100,000 living persons. Twenty-five year's later, in 189p, in these cities, which then had a com bined population of 17,035,235, the ra tio of deaths from cancer was 66.4 to 100,000 population, the ratio having nearly doubled in a quarter of a cen tury. If this rate of increase is main tained for the next ten years, Dr. Mas sey finds that in 1910 there will be in each city an average of 80 deaths from cancer .to 100,000 population. The greatest increase in any of the large cities of America is shown by San Francisco. Here the ratio leaped from 16.5 cases in 100,000 population in 1866 to 103.6 in 1898. In England and Wales the increase in the thirty-one years from 1864 to 1S95 was from 38.5 to 75.5. Dr. Roswell Park of Buffalo predicts that "if the present rate of increase of cancer in New York state continues during the next ten years, its mortality will become greater than that of consumption, typhoid fever and smallpox combined." Discussing the conditions affecting the increase in cancer cases in England Sir William Banks notes that it is the well-nour ished people who fall victims. For the past fifty years, he says, bread has been cheap and plentiful, while during the last twenty years the importation of animal food from other countries has been enormous. The increased wages and emoluments of all classes in this country have enabled them to purchase freely of the best there is to be had in the whole world of things to eat and drink. Our working classes fare admirably. Our better classes eat infinitely too much—especially of ani mal food partaken of at breakfast, lunch and dinner. But for the ath letic tendency of the age and the gen eral passion for games and exercises which pervades all classes this over stuffing must have proved very danger ous. I am pretty well convinced that when a man is over 45 years of age excess in food is perhaps worse for him than excess in drink. Apparently one of the results of too much nour ishing food is the production of a wide ly spread second-rate kind of gout of a different type from the acute and furious attacks produced in former days by the copious drinking of beer and port wine. Moreover, I think dis tinctly, that it has also to do with the production of the cancerous predispo sition. It is curious to note that among the very highest mortality rates for occupations are those which include commercial travelers, coachmen and grooms, merchants, seamen, maltsters, brewers, innkeepers, butchers and plumbers. Most of these certainly are persons likely to eat and drink abun dantly and not take too much exer cise—persons who live well and do not work off their spare products. Singu larly enough, medical men figure low in the list. Certain it is that the dis ease has not appeared to me to affect the weakling, tea-shriveled, mummy like old maid, or the ill-fed, more than-half-starved drunkard, who nev er has any money to spend on good food. Its most numerous victims are well-nourished persons, with plenty of beef and fat about them, and often with a fine, healthy color to their cheeks. In summing: up the many op erations I have done for cancer of the tongue my recoliection of the patients is for the most part of biggish, pow erful men, with large, strqng jaws which..were hard to saw through. The better the nutrition and the younger the patient the more deadly and rap idly growing is the canber. VMinc«lf£"":r'' In New York city the Metropolitan Street Railway company has 284 miles of track, and last'year carried on them 255,835,000 passengers, or about: half the number carried on all of the steam railroads of the Unit^ St'ates.^'fM^ In some parts of Holland a birth If announced by fastening a «ilk pin cushion on the doorknob. If the ptn-» cushion is red the baby i» If white a girl?. a bpy. and Cj- jNkii la fi turn, wwr Do*** M. W4%e life of Capt William H. r^fho died hem the other day, 'wai' ifttflhr In one respect During#la sea^ farfttqf life $f sixt^six titan the tita'e he-,sp6nt on Sfeutfer'Sei^ .island, there, were few days felt^eolid ground beneath ills feet, tffir home belng almost cbntlnuously afloat. For forty years he served either In a lighthouse or on a lightship for the United States government. Thirty of these forty yeab he spent oh the Hen and Chicken lightship at the entrance of Vineyard sound. He was 80 years old, and first went on a Whaling voy age when he was 14v On his next voy age he became 1U. The captain, whor like the skipper on all whalers, was( also the ship's doctor, was unable to cure him, and it was decided to put him ashore at Otahelte, one of the So ciety group. ¥he chief who was asked to look after him Consented on con dition that the boy would become a member of the tribe.- The chief's con: ditions were agreed to, and young Doane was taken ashore. He received kind treatment from. the natives, and was soon nursed back to health. When he was strong enough .to undergo the ceremony he was received into the tribe, the tribal mark being placed on the back of his hand. He remained with the tribe for many years, learn ing the language and becoming one of them in every way*. He was finally taken off the island by an English brig and was landed on the South American coast. As the quickest way to get home he enlisted for service on the United States frigate Constellation, Commodore Clarney, which was on her way to Chinese waters. This was dur ing our first trouble with China. It was four years after Doane reached home, all! of that time being spent on the Constellation. The cruise in Chi nese waters ended, he came to this city, where he ever after made his home. Soon after his return he again decided on a whaling voyage, but when three weeks out he fell through an open hatchway, breaking his left arm. That ended his career as a whaler, and soon after he got a berth on a light ship.—New Bedford (Conn.) corre spondent New York Sun. JAPANESE ARE VERY PATRIOTIC Willing to Sacrifice Their Live* for Their Country. No people on earth are more intense ly patriotic than the Japanesa soldiers and sailors. According to their belief the dead come back and tarry for a hundred years with the living. "There are no Japanese who do not return," says a typical Japanese. ."There are none who do not know the way. From China and from Chosen, and from out of the bitter sea all our. dead h£ve come back—all! They are with us now. In every dusk they gather to he^r the bugle3 that called them home. And they will hear them also in the day when the armies of the son of heaven shall be summoned against Russia." The influence of such be lief, fervently, so passionately held up on the national life is difficult to ex aggerate. It stimulates to self-sacrlr flee, and the fact that all the departed great ones are held by every Japanese to be at' his side nerves the soldier to the utmost heroism, the statesman to sink self and seek the nation's inter ests. This is precisely the feeling which, as Capt. Hoeing has pointed out in his "Untersuchungen' uber die Taktik der Zugunft," is needed in the modern soMier. It is the. ignorant campaign waged by the missionaries against this beautiful and not un christian belief in the actual presence of the dead on earth that has so ham pered their work. For. Japan rightly feels that the belief is one essential to her national life and to her mili tary efficiency." LINCOLN AN INVENTOR. Patented Steamboat Device Before Ho Enteied Politic** In the patent office are many papers of interest. Not the least is one show-, ing that Abraham Lincoln dozen years before he became president be longed to that tribe known as inven tors. The jacket in case No. 6,469 con tains the papers, the indorsements thereon showing that A. Lincoln, of Springfield, county of Sangamon, state of Illinois, March 10, 1849, filed an ap plication for a patent—petition, affi davit, specification, drawing and model —which was examined April 13, di rected to issue May 10, patented M^ay 22, recorded in volume 38, page 664, and Z. C. Robbin was the attorney. The petition is for a patent for "a new and improved manner of combining adjustable buoyant chambers with steamboats and other vessels, for the purpose of enabling the draught of wa ter to be readily lessened, to enable them to pass over bars or through shallow water without discharging their cargoes," and, referring to the drawing, describes "the buoyant cham bers constructed in such a manner, that they can be expanded, so as to hold a large volume of air when required for use and can be contracted in a very small space and safely secured as soon as their services can be dispensed with." In. asking Mr. Bobbin to se cure the patent Mr. Lincoln remarked: "I thought a steamboat on that plan would run where it was a little damp." —Washington correspondent St Louis Republic. .«jp SatUfled with the Vile. Convict—Well, did the guvner me pardon petition?.. Warden—Yep, and put it on file. Convict „(eagerly Say. till him to return m^r pitiUiijii'If' un a liable, *k -K, SCOUR IN ANY SOIL. -*00$ wm iff 1 ifr ego' IMeata T1 Dl«i in colleges is ext n»'*trlet attention tor., given as the treason. Qqyk ersi* may have health anC^ jL strength. Hosteler's Stomach Bitter® is recommended most highly for ill* ""fe .^S blood, nerves and stomach disorder*.. ahd it ctares constipation,~indigesttav dyspepsia, sluiggiiji liver or* weak kldk neys. !'f The sugar dealer Is one m£n vW ,, needn't fear failure tecause he lack* grit 4\ firth nrjy 10 Cures Talk breat Fame of a Great Mtidielni Won toy Actual Merit. The fame of Hood's SarsapsrlUa has been won by the good it has done to those who Were suffering from disease. Its cures have excited wonder and admiration. It has caused th6usands to rejoice in the enjoy* ment of good health, and it will do you the same good it has done others. It will ex* pel from your blood all Impurities will give you a good appetite and make you strong and vigorous. It Is Just the medi cine to help you now, when your system Is in need of a tonic and invigorator. ScrofUta-V had scrofula sores all over my back and face. I took Hood's Sarsapa* rllla, used Hood's Medicated Soap and Hood's Olive Otho B.<p></p>Hood's Moobb,Wis.<p></p>Sarsaparljiacured."wasandHope,MountOintment, Is America's Greatest Medicine, BASTINE for walls and ceil* lngs, because It Is pure, clean, durable^ Put up In dry pow dered form, In five-pound pack ages, with full directions. ULt kalsomlnes are cheap, tem porary preparations made from whltlngr, chalks, clayB, etc., and stuck on walla with de caylng animal glue. ALABAS* TINE is not a kalaomlne. EWAREJ of the dealer who says he can sell you the "same thing" as ALABASTINE or "something Just as good." Mo Is either not posted or is try ing'to deceive you. NT IN OFFERING something he has bought cheap and tries to sell on ALABASTINE'S de mands, he may not. realize th* damage you will suffer by a kalsomine on your walls. JSNSIBIS dealers will not buy a lawsuit. Dealers risk, one by celling and consumers by using Infringement. Alabastln* Co. own right to make wall coat* ing to mix with cold water. HE) INTERIOR WAIiLB of every church and school should he coated only with pure, dur able ALABASTINE. It safe guards health. Hundreds of tons used yearly for this work* N BUYING •. ALABASTINHfcj customers, should avoid get-. tltig cheap kalsomlnes under different' names. Insist oa having our goods In package* and properly labeled UISANCB of wall pacer Is oh* vlated by ALABASTINE. It can be-used on plastered walls, wood ceilings, brick or can* vas. A child can brush it on. Zt does -not rub or scale off. 8TAB1/I9HED In favor. Shun all Imitations. Ask W VWi 'iy-i: r- 7.' Ki ttc, S 1 i.'.r v''?' is:'the'' brl*ln*l K' and only durable wall coating, entirety different from all leal- .. aomlnea. Ready for use in white or fourteen beautiful tints by adding cold water. ABIES naturally prefer AUC« paint deal er or druggist for tint card. "Write us fOr Interesting Took» let,' free. ALABASTINE CO.* Grand Kaplda, Mich. L' Look OUT! -For jr oil family's oonAHt •ad your. own. $ will contribute mora to It than tons of Ice and enow of Cm*. 5 Ballon* for 23 cent*. Will* *r lief »f pnadoai ftaifcr'MMi. CHA^ygs juajgee co. W. L. DOUG ifioojooownm. bdorMd by over km W. Ppncuw nam* and. price stamped oa bottom. TUu nosobstitutrclaiaM&td bo ss Rod. Your doih •MU km them—if not, we will Mod a pair1 ion receipt of price and ijeT ntm far curtate. State Uad of tatbia IN 3 OR 4 YEARS IN INBEPENDENGE ASSURED /f If you take u? «o«t homes la WeateraOMK ad*, the land of plMty. Illustrated pami airing experietoi. farmers who h***' come wealt&y iiwgttow log wheat, repdrta oC deietates, .eto.. and full to reduced railway tatea can bf had! oa application to the Superintendent oi Immigration, Department of InferionOttaw^ Canada or to Ben DaviavlMtt JMtTkLrdSU', St. Paul, Mian. rtrnttm. CULTIMTOMX itAMmam 5l)lKYft0f* vaauatwlwjMk ''git flfli