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I The Haunted Chamber.! BY "THE DUCHESS." Author of Monica,"Jlfona SciiUv,* "Phyllisetc., etc. CHAPTER, vnr. It is now "golden September," and a few days later. For the last fortr ight Florence has been making strenuous fcr efforts to leave the castle, but Bora would not hear of their departure, and H> Florence,'feeling it will be selfish of ker to cut short Dora's happy hours with her supposed lover, sighs, and gives in, and sacrifices he own wishes on the alta of friendship. K It 5s five o'clock, and all the men, gun .11 hand, have been out since early aawn. Xow they are coming straggling home, in one or twos. Amongst the first to return are Sir Adrian and his cousin Arthur Dvnecourt, who, having met accidentally about a mile * ? u J ?^.*1 _ xrom nome, nave uuugeu tuc x cmajuuer of the way together. On the previous night at dinner, Miss Deimaine had spoken of a small gold bangle, a favorite of hers, she was greatlv in the habit of wearing. She said she had lost it?when or where she B?.~ could not tell; and she expressed herself as being very grieved for its loss, and had laughingly declared she would give any reward claimed by any one who should restore it to her. Two or three men had, on the instant, pledged themselves to devote their lives to the search; but Adrian had said nothing. Nevertheless, the bangle and reward had remained in liis mind all tiiat ;; night and all to-day. Xow he can not " re&ain from speaking about it to the j rr. man he nsiders his rival. . "Odd thing about Miss Delmaine's bangle," he remarks carelessly. "Very odd. I dare say her maid has pnt it somewhere and forgotten it." "Hardly. One would not put a bracelet anywhere bat in a jewel-case or in a special drawer. She must have dropped it omewhere." "I dare say; those Indian bangles are i very liable to be nibbed off the wrist." "But where? I have had the place searched high and low, and still no tid iinss ot it can De ioima." *There may have been since we lefthome this morning." Just at this moment they come within full view of the ol'd tower, and its strange rounded ivy-grown walls, and the little narrow holes in the sides they show at its highest point that indicate . the position of the haunted chamber, v Tfnat is there at this moment in a mere glimpse of this old tower to ma&e i Arthur Dynecourt grow pale and to start so strangely? His eyes grow brighter, his lips tighten and grow hard. "Do you remember,'' he says, turning to his cousin with all the air of one to whom a sudden inspiration nas come, "that day when we visitec' the haunted chamber? Miss Delmaine accompanied .; us,. did she not?" ~xes'?iooiung at mm expcctaxxuy. | "Could she have dropped it there?" asks Arthur lightly. "By Jove, it would be odd if she had?ehV Uncanny ^ sort of place to drop one's trinkets." uIt is strange I didn't think of it hefore," responds Adrian, evidently struck by the suggestion. "Why, it must have been just about that time when she lost it. The more I think of it the more convinced I feel that it must be there." "Nonsense, my dear fellow; don't iump at conclusions so hastily! It is nighlv improbable. I should say that HTwrvr\n/l rt* Qr?TnrV?^rO olco ir> tViO OU\/ UAVFJl/V/U ?-l*J M iiVlV VWV J.J.4 - world." "Well; I'll go and see, at all events," declares Adrian, unconvinced. It is some lingering remnant of grace, some vague human shrinking from the crime that has begun to form itself within his busy brain, that now inducesDynecourt to try to dissuade Sir i Adrian from his declared intention to search the haunted chamber for the lost bangle? With all his eloquence lis 4.-7 seeks to convince him thai there the bangle could not have been left, but to _ no effect. His suggestion has taken firm root in Sir Adrian's mind, and at dc Vip frantrlv sn.vs t.hrvn<*h it mnv be useless to hunt for it in that uncanny chajaber, it is worth a try. It may be there. This dim possibility drive* him to his fate. "Well, if you go alone and unprotected your blood be on your own head," says Dyneconrt lightly, at last surrendering his position. "Kemember, whatever happens, I advised you not to go!" As Arthur finishes his speech a sinister smile overspreads his pale features, and a quick light, as evil as it is piercing comes to his eyes. But Sir Adrian cwm nnthino' nf TTft is loOkine* a~ -? ? his home, as it stands .grand and nia\ jestic in the red light of the dving sun. He is looking, too. at the ol'd tower, and al the tipper portion of it, where the haunted chamber stands, and where he can see the narrow holes thai; serve for windows. IIow little could 3. man imprisoned there see of the busyworld without! "Yes. I'll remember." he savs jestingly. "When the ghosts of my ancestors claim me as their victim, ancl incarcerate me in some fiendish dungeon, I shall remember your words and your advice." "You don't mean to go there, of course?" asks Arthur carelessly, whilst > " - watching the other with eager scrutiny. "It is quite a journey to that dismal hole, and it will be useless." "Well, if it distresses you. consider 1 haveirt gone," says Sir Adrian lightly. "That is right,"' rejoins Arthur, still "with his keen eyes fixed upon his cousin. "I knew* you would abandon that foolish intension^Xcertainly shall consider youJ>avenrt gone." They- are at the hall door as these i j ^s pass Arthur's lips, and there N?' they separate, Sir Adrian leaving him with a smile, and going away up the larce hall whistling gayly. When he has turned "one corner, Arthur goes quickly alter him. not with the intention of overtaking him. but of Kt;epuzg xiiiu lu view, oiuciiumv 110 fellows, as though fearful of oeing seen. There is no servant within sight. Xo friend comes across Sir Adriah;s path. All is silent. The old house seems wrapped in slumber. Above, the pretty guests in their dainty tea-gowns are sipping Bohea and prattling scandal; below, the domestics are occupied in their household affairs. Arthur, watching carefully, sees Sir Adrian go quickly "up the bread front staircase, after which he turns aside, ;vnr? fhr>n<rh filled with 2i.iltv fear. rushes through one passage or another, until he arrives in the corridor that helongs to the servant's quarters. Coming to a certain door, lie opens it, not -without some difficulty, and, moving into the dark landing that lies beyond it, looks around. To any casual observer it might seem strange that ! some of the cobwebs in this apparent- j ly long-forgotten place have lately been brushed awav. as w- a ficure ascending ! or descending the gloomy staircase, j To Arthur these signs bring nosur- ; prise, which proves that he, perhap3, T>oc 4>>o Tiocf viorhf- fn Vnmv brushed them aside. Hurrying up the stairs, after closing the door carefully and noiselessly behind him. lie reaches, after considerable mountings of what seem to be interminable steps, the upper door he had opened on the day they had visited the haunted chamber, when Kingwooa and he had had a' passage-at-arms about his curiosity. Now he stands breathing heavily outside this door, wrapped in the dismal darkness of the staircase, listening intently, as it were, for the coming of a footstep. In the meantime, Sir Adrian, not dissuaded from his determination to search the tower for the missing banrgle, runs gayly up the grand staircase, traverses the corridors and galleries, and finallv comes to the first of ttft iron-bound doors. Opening it, he j stands upon the landing that leads to the other door bv means of the small stone staircase, llcre he pauses. Is it some vague shadowy sense of dauger that makes him stand now as though hesitating? A quick shiver runs through his veins. "How cold it is," he says to himself, "even on this hot day, up in this melancholy place!" Yet. he is quite uncon scions of the ears that are listening: for i his lightest movement, of the wicked i 4 <?Mgwgsgisiaigggwwwfc <a? ? eves mat are watching iiiin turougn a I chink in ihe (opposite door! Now he steps forward again, and, i mounting the last flight of stairs, opens ! the fatal door and looks into the room. Even now it occurs to him how unpleasant might be the consequences should the door close and the secret lock fasten him in against his will. lie pushes the door well open, and holds it so, and then tries whether it can fall i to again of its own accord, and so make j | a prisoner cu nun. Xo; it stands quite open, immovable apparently, ami so. convinced that hs is safe - enough, he commences his search. Then, swift us lightning, a form darts iroin its concealed position, rushes irp- to the stone staircase, stealthily creeping still nearer, glances into the room. Sir Aiiri.; i s I.;? !< is turned: he is stooping, looking in every corner for the missing prize. He sees nothing, hears nothing, though a treacherous form crouchmg <<n the threshold is making ready to sea? his doom. Arthur Dvnecourt. putting forth his hand, which neither trembles ncr faJ? ters on its deadly mission, silently lays hold of the door, and drawing it to ward him the secret jock cucks snarply, and separates the victim from tho world! Stealthily even now?his evil d?ed accomplished?Arthur Dynecourt retreats "down the stairs, and never indeed relaxes his speed until at length he stands panting, but relentless, in the servants corridor again. Remorse he knows not. But a certain sense of fear holds him irresolute, Tv>.i!-;i.nr r.;c f-rcmhlo nnrl l>rirt<rin<7 out cold clews . upon his brow. "His rival is safely secured, out of all harm's wav as far as he is concerned. Xo human being saw him go to the illfated tower; 110 human voice heard him declare his intention of searching it for the missing trinket. lie?Arthur ?had been careful before parting from him to express his .settled belief that Sir Adrian. would not go to the haunted chamber, and therefore lie feels prepared to defend his Ciise successfully, even should the baronet be lucky enough to find a deliverer. Yet he is not quite easy in his mind. Pear of discovery, fear of Sir Adrian's displeasure, fear of the world, fear of tha rn-nft that already seems to dancle in red lines before his eyes render him the veriest coward that walks the earth. Shall he return and release his prisoner, and treat the whole thing as a joke, and so leave-Adrian free to dispense his bounty at the castle, to entertain in his lavish fashion, to secure the woman upon whom he?Arthurhas set his heart for his bride? Xo; a thousand- times no! A few short davs. and all will belong to Art\ * i. TT-. ?:n \ ? uiur .jjvircuuuru ne win uc ou -vj.thur" "then, and the bride lie covets will be unable to resist the temptation of a title, and the chance of being mistress of the statelv old pile that will call him master. let Sir Adrian die then in his distant garret alone, despairing, un discoverable! For who would think of going to the haunted room in search of him'? Who will even guess that any mission, however important, would lead him to it, without having mentioned it to some one? It is a grewsome spot, seldom visited and gladly forgotten; and, indeed, what possibly could there be m its bare walls and its- bloodstained floors to attract any one? Ko; surely it is the last place to suspect any one would go to without a definite purpose; and what purpose could Sir Adrian have of going there? So far Arthur feels himself safe. He turns away, and joins the women and the returned sporstmen in the upper drawing-room. "wnere is xmiecourt.-" asss somebody later. Arthur, though he hears the question, does not even change color, but calmlv, with a steady hand, gives Florence her tea. "Yes; where is Sir Adrian?" asks Mrs. Talbot, glancing up at the speaker. "He left us about an hour ago," Capt. Uingwood answers. "He said he-d prefer walking home, and he shoveled his birds into our cart, and left us without another word. He'll turn nr> nresentlv. no doubt." "Dear me, 1 hope nothing h;is happened to him!" says Ethel Villiers, who is sitting in "a window through which the rays of the evening sun are Stealing, turning her auburn locks to threads of rich red gold. "I hope not. Pm sure," interposes Arthur, quite feelingly. "It does seem odd he hasn't come in before this." Then, true to his determination to so arrange matters that, if discovery ensues upon liis scheme, he may still find for himself a path out of hisilifficulties, he says quietly, "I met him about a 1 mile from home", and walked here "with 1 him. We parted at the hall-door; I dure say he is in the library or the stables." "Good gracious, why didn't you say 1 so before?" exclaims old Lady "FitzAImont in a querulous tone." 1 quite began to believe the poor boy had blown out ixis brains through disappointed love, or something equallv objectionable." Both Dora and Florence color warmly at this. The old lady herself is free lo speak as she thinks of Sir Adrian, having 110 designs upon him for Lady Gertrude, that young lady being engaged to a very distinguished and titled'botanist. now hunting for ferns in the West Indies. *Markham."' says Mrs. Talbot to a footman who enters ;it this moment, u*ro to the library ami tell Sir Adrian his tea is waiting for him." "Yes. ma'ai::.'' Bnfc r>r<:s:s)i.iv returns and Sir Adrian is tot in :: i:!.;::ry. "Then try the si;. try everywhere." says Dora s-niK-'-vhat impa tiently.. Markham. having iri<-<! everywhere, brings back tlie s;n;v :i;\.vcr: Sir Adrkm is apparently not t;? i>e fo-.nd! '"Most extraordinary," remarks Lady FitzAlmont, fanning herself. "As a rule I have noticed that Adrian is most punctual. I do hope my iirst impression was not the right one. and that we shanrt find him presently with his throat cut and waiiowinir iii his blood on account of some silly young woman!" uear mamma. interposes jyauy Gertrude, laughing. "what a terrible old-fashioned surmise! Xo man nowadays kills himself for a false love; he only goes and gets another." But, Tvnen the dinner-hour arrives, and no host presents himself to lead Lady FitzAlmont into dinner, a great fear"falls upon the guests save one, and confusion and dismay, and anxious conjecture reign supreme. CIIAiTEK IX. The night passes; the next daydawns, deepens, grows into noon, and still 7ibthhi? happens l<> relieve the terrible anxiety that is felt by all within the castle as to the fate of its missin.? master. They weary themselves out wondering, icily but incessantly, what can have become T>f him. The second day comes and goes, so does the third and the fourth, the fifth and the sixth, and then the seventh dawns. Florence Delmaine, who has been half-distracted with conflicting fears and emotions, and who lias been sit- ; ting in lier room apart from the others, with her head bent down and resting oil her hands, suddenly raising her eyes, ;>pps Dora standing before her. "The widow is looking haggard and ! hollow-eyed. All her dainty freshness has gone, and she now looks in years what in reality she is. close on thirtylive. Iler lips are pale and drooping, her cheeks colorless; her whole air is suggestive of deep depression, the re- . suit"of sleepless nights and days filled with grief and suspense of the most . DOisnaut nature. "Alas, how well she loves him tool" thinks Florence, contemplating her in silence. Dora, advancing, lays her hand upon the table near Florence, and says, in a hurried impassioned tone? ;'Oh, Florence, what has become of him? What has been done to him? I have tried to hide my terrible anxiety 1'or the past two miserable days, but now I feel I must speak to some one or I go mud!" !; She smites her hands together, and, |; sinking into a chair. looks as if she is ' goingv to faint. Florence, greatly , alarmed, rises from her chair, and, I running to her. places her arm round j h^r as thonsrh to support her. But Do- I ?*-.-? rt / . ?. r? v%-\ r?r*T- rA^S/rKTTt O^/T 1 I'd lici aimuDL ivugmj cuj.v* motions her away. "Do not touch me:" she cries hoarseIv. "Do not come near me: you. of all 1 < people, should he the last to come to , my assistance! Besides. 1 am not here to talk about myseir. out or mm. jriorence. have you iinv suspicionV" Dora lean's forward and looks scrutinizing!}' at hercousin, as though fearing, , yet hoping to get an answer in the aiiirmative. But Florence shakes her head. ] "L have no suspicion?none." she answers sad !y. "It I had should I not act upon it. whatever it might cost ine':1" '"Would you," asks Dora eagerly, as though impressed by her companion's words?"whatever it might co"st you?" Her manner w so strange that "Florence pauses before replying. ' Yes." she says at last. "Xo earthly rvmsideratioii should keel) me from us ing any knowledge I migl:l by accident or otherwise become possessed of to lay bare this mystery. J>or;i.*' she cries suddenly, "if you know anything, I implore. I entreat you to say so." "What .-should i know?" responds the widow, recoiling. "You loved him too," says Florence piteously. now nmre than ever convinced that Dora is keeping something hidden from her. "For the sake of that low. disclose anything yon may know "I dart* not s:k openly," replies the willow, un'.r.vil;,; even a shade paler, "because m\ suspicion is of the barest character, and may be altogether wrong. Vet there are moments when some hidden instinct within my breast whispers to me that I am on the right track." "If so," murmurs Florence, falling upon her knees before her. "do not hesitate; follow up this instinctive feeling, and who knows but something may come of it! Dora, do not delay. Soon, soon?Tf not already?it may be too late. Alas," she cries, bursting into bitter tears, "what do I say? Is it not too late even now'? What hope can there be after six long days, and no tidings?" "I will do what I can. 1 am resolved," declares Dora, rising abruptly to her feet. ''If too late to do any*good, it may not be too late to wing the truth from him. and bring the murderer to justice." "From him? From whom ? what murderer?" exclaims Florence, in a voice of horror. "Dora, what are you saying?" "2sever mind. Let me go now; and to-night?this evening let me come to r-r>n liovo irr-iin vmi tllft rP??Tl1t of -what I am now about "to do." She quits the room as silently as she entered it. ami Florence, sinking back in her chair, gives herself up to the excitement and amn/.cment that are overpowering her. There is something else, too, in ner thoughts that is puzzling and perplexing her: in all Dora's manner there was nothing that would lead her to think that she loved Sir Adrian; there was fear, and a desire for revenge in it, but none of the despair of a loving woman who had lost the man to whom she has given her heart. Florence is still pondering these things, while Dora, going swiftly dowa stairs, turns into tbe side hall, glancing into library and rooms as she goes along, plainly" in search of something or some one. At last her search is successful; in a small room she finds Arthur Dyneeourt apparently reading, as he sits in a large arm-chair, with his eyes fixed intently upon the book in his hand. Seeing iier, he closes the volume, and, throwing it from him, says carelessly: "Pshaw ?what contemptible trash thev write nowadays!" "How can vox; sit here calmly readiraVmmnn+.ltr iuj;, X./KJLcv ?v. uvauv*vaj * "when we are all so distressed in rnincl! But I forgot"?with a meaning glance "you gain by his death; we do not." uXo, yoa lose," he retorts coolly. "Though", after all, even had things been different, I can't say I think you had much chance at any time." lie smiles insolently at her as he says this. But she pays no heed either to his words or his smile. Her whole soul seems wrapped in one thought, and at last she gives expression to it. "What nave yuu done witn hi my she breaks iorm. advancing towaru mm, as though to compel him to give her an answer to the question that has been torturing her for days past. "With whom?" he asks.coldiy.' Y?t there is a forbidding gleam in his eyes that should have warned her to torbear. ''With Sir Adrian?with your rival, with the man you hate," she cries, her breath coming in little irrepressible gasps. "Dynecourt. I adjure you to speak the truth, and say what has become of him." "You rave," he says calmly, lifting his eyebrows just a shade, as though in pity for her foolish excitement. "r~confess the man was 110 favorite of mine, and that I can not help being glad of tins cnance tuat nas presented liseu in his extraordianry disappearance of my inheriting'his place and title; but really, my dear creature, I know as little of what has become of him, as?I presume?you do yourself." "You'lie!" cries Dora, losing all control over herself. "You have murdered him, to get him out of your path. His death lies at your door." She points her linger at him as though in condemnation as she utters *-h<scc> u-dnk hut. shill hf> r?r>fis unf. <li7ioh_ "They wili take you for a Bedlamite," lie says, with a sneering laugh, "if you conduct yourself like this. Where are your proofs that I am the cold-blooded ruffian you think me?" "I have none"?in a despairing tone. "But I shall make it the business of my life to find them." "You had better devote your time to some other purpose." he exclaims savagely, laying Ins hand upon her wrist with an" amount oi' force that leaves a red mark upon the delicate flesh. Do you hear me? You must be mad t? go oh like this to me. I know nothing of Adrian, but I know a good deal of your designing conduct, and your wil.d Jealousy of Florence Delmaine. All the world saw how devoted he was to her, and?mark what I say?there have been instances of a jealous woman killing the man she loved, rather than see him in the arms of another." "Demon!" shrieks Dora, recoiling from him. "You would fix the crime on me?" "Why not? I think the whole case tells terriblv a<?,iinst vou. Hitherto I have spared you. I have refrained from hinting even at the fact that yonr jealousy had been aroused of 'late; but ; your conduct of to-day, and the wily ; manner in which you" have sought to accuse me of beinjr implicated in this . unfortunate mystery connected -with my xmhappy cousin, iiave made me for- ' get my forbearance. Be warned in ' time. cease to persecute me aoout tnis ; matter, or?fetched -woman that you are?I shall certainly make it my busi- ! ness to investigate the entire matter and brine vou to iusti "Traitor!" cries Dora, raising ner pale face and looking at liiiu with horror and defianco. "Yon triumph now, because, as vet, I have no evidence to support my belief; but''?slie hesitates. ''Ah, brazen it out to the last!" says : Dynecourt insolently. "Defy me while vrm rnri To-flnv T shall set the hlood hounds of the law upon your track, so . beware?beware!" "You refuse to tell me anything?" exclaims Dora, ignoring his"words, and : treating them as though they are unheard. " "So much the worse for you." She turns from him, and leaves the , room as she finishes speaking; but, though her words have been defiant there is no kindred feeling in her heart to bear her up. wneii nit: uuui" uiuscs uclwccu tucm, the Hush (lies out of her face, and she : looks even more wan and hopeless than . she did before seeking his presence. She can not deny to herselt that her . mission has been a failure. He has ; openly scoffed at her threats, and she is aware that she has not a shred of act- j ual evidence wherewith to support her ; suspicion: the bravado with which he ] has sought !<? turn the tables upon her- ritf im! <1 islionrtone Vie-T and now she confesses to herself that ! she knows not where to turn for coua- 3 sel. ! j 1 [Continued.] " P?W<WW?B>W??BJW??6i NEW YORK IN DANGER, i WHAT AN EARTHQUAKE OR CYCLONE WOULD DO THERE. c A. Strong Presentation of 1 lit- Probable Con- (. sequeucen of Such a Convulsion of Nature. | ^ Dincinti.v! Enquirer. Xt*\v York is turning into a city of i high stories. Erasmus remarked of * Amsterdam. Tvhich was built on | piles driven into the mud. that lie i ? had seen a town wliere the people s ai*e like crows on the tree-tops, but J \"" r\T.\' \ rwlr ici fn^ rr nv\ ?-?-? XViA, AO ^UI/IJLUq U.jy LJLLC ii-LUOL dizzy and weighty structures upon r the smallest possible pieces of ground, j} so that a scientific man lately re- ? marked to me: "If an e;athqiiake } ever strikes the city of New York it t will produce more death :.r<d ruin i \ than anywhere on the globe where . an earthquake has struck." "You remind me." l aid L **of these j desolate and gruesome reformers \ _._1_ _ 1.1T Xl. .X 1 wno are leumg us nuu rue surplus ^ v? ill bo expended in :i few months. , whereas they never told us that there j would be any surplus six months b*>- , fore it was coming. They are not j going to stop building, I apprehend, j in New York for fear of e:irtii<]uakes. , which have never yt come to jfan- \ hattan Island/' However, I fell to relivciing my- , self when ever an earthquake would come to Manhattan Island at any j time, now or far in the future. I did , not see any sound reason to appre- ( hend any earthquake in this quarter. , We have had earthquakes along the , tidal alluvial sandbar country. which ; have come as far north as Baltimore, , and, perhaps, Philadelphia. Our worst i earthquake in the East has been at Charleston, where the mountain range j which defines the solid limits of the J continent is a great way inland. The Charleston? earthquake was really a ( bi<r thing, and we can arford for a moment to glance at it with reference to the rocky framework of this conti- , nent. It is 130 miles from Charleston to Columbia, and thence to the . mountains it is at least 140 miles, or, ' we may say. about 300 miles from the seat of the iaie earthquake to the lib of the continent, which is the Blue Ridge. When you come out to New York, j however, you see that same mountain almost overhanging the city: ; what is called the Orange mountain in New Jersy is the eastern dike of the ' Allegheny ridge. In short,New En -1; gland and tidal New York are the solid continent, down almost to the gates of the ocean. The rock line then recedes and it is 100 miles west , of Philadelphia, forty miles west of , "Washington, wliich if itself far inland upon an estuary: and when we arrive at Charleston, as I have said, the ( mountains are near 250 miles inland. If we are to suppose that the cod vulsion which overthrew a part of Charleston had some relation with . the gulf stream and the volcanic ' mountains of the AVest Indies and Central America, there is no great 7-ivnlirtlM'lifv that our eranite main land has ever been or ever will be affected from tlie same cause and relations. Tlie area of earthquakes and eruptions is tolerably well defined. San Francisco lias felt earthquakes and ; been greatly dwarfed by them, and since the two earthquakes over there : during the present generation they have ceased to build high houses on that coast. The volcanic zone seems to embrace the Sandwich Islands and co-terminus parts of the Pacific. Caraccas and Lisbon constitute two centers of an ellipse, where the earth has been greatly disturbed within the historic memory. But the formation of the Allegheny mountain chain, which constitutes the eastern dike of the Mississippi valley, would appeal- from geological criticism to be altogether different from the volcanic formations of the tropics and the Cordilleras. It seems to be the idea that the Alleghenies where once a high table land with a soft under stratum, and that the plateau fell. down like a piece ofbadmasonrv, and no/Vh nfliov I XOIO L-LLt V^i_iCUi_l_iO v\s VWVViii vuvu \y vj-l\,+ where there were hard parts, thus constituting the stretch of tolerably uniform ranges through our Western and Middle States. The trend of the Allegheny chains is from about Chattaaooga to the Hudson river, near the city of New York, and thus some chains are'found taking in the whole breadth o f New England, from almost ; within sight of the seacoast back to the region of Canada. The citv of New York is built upou islands and bars of hard gneiss which have been covered with sand in time, ; and, therefore, you can strike between the bars of rock here and there and find either quicksilver or well water. There is no analogy to war- ; rant the belief that New England. New York city, or the region of the ( -Liemca CU v\s ouuv-i. ?J. \S*~^ other than universal electrical and caloric conditions. There seems to , be no record that the city of New , York ever had an important earth quake. Hence, the establishment of 1 these high buildings on the island of < New York is fairly conservative.- and ; the same class of buildings are put ] up in London and in the main cen- ] ters of Europe, and where cheap coal and invention justify and stimu- j late elevators to supplant stairways. 1 New York is a very narrow island, < and where the island is the least nar- j row it is probably the least solid: ( that it is to saj-, the expansions of \ this island toward the East River are ( quite probably due to bars formed by , the confluence of waters through the ] Rrmnr? on/I flio "Floef "RivAV flnfl tllP 1 Harrison River. Long Island ap- i pears to be a gravel formation, some- j thing in the nature of drift or allu- j vial, -which is subject to the action of < the waters, and move about. But ] the mountains in northern New York i such as the Adirendacks, wore de- ( scribed by Agassiz as the oldest ciry \ ground 011 the globe. One of liis j Lectures, entitled "America, the Older < Continent," shows that the Adiron- ' dack Mountains are the oldest land < and the hardest land on earth: they r were long called Azoic, because no < fossil remains or shells or rudiments j of organic life were visible there. 1 A Horrible Story. A horrible story comes from Morocco. A large box was recently re- \ ceived from the interior of the conn- ^ try at the port Mazagan for ship- ^ ment. It was addressed to a person , unknown, and "was opened, when a ghastly sight wat revealed. Closely } nnMrpr) in n. Ixw wfi'p the bodies of * sixteen young women, one man and a J, negress. All the victims liad been, ] iecapitated and the heads were missing. The bodies were embalmed, j md had evidently been a long thne in the condition in which they were tound. It is believed the slaughter < svas the work of some pasha, who i iiad taken vengeance on his harem. ] S - PEPPER FROM 2EB VANCE. ! V. Very Lively Speech on the Montana Seiiatorship?Anecdotes Which "FittheCa??. In the United States Senate tlit*: )ther flay, when the Montana election ?ase was taken up. Vance, a member )f the Committee on Privileges and .! Elections, made an argument in sup- ( x>rt of the minority report, declaiing I i 2iark and Maginiiis. the Democratic !; :laimanis, entitled to the seats. In ' ;he course of his speech he told the j < >tory of a person who was once! j schooling ;i country bumpkin to tit j j lim to be god father at a christening.! i rhe parson asked him what was the j ] rntward and visible sign of baptism, j; die bumpkin, after scratching his !: lead for awhile, answered with an ! lir of triumph. "AYhy?the baby ro . je sure. And so he said, the out ware ' ; Hid visible backsliding oi' the Repub-'; iciiii party will bo the Montana twins ?not the baby but a couple of them.' "Laughter.] He also illustiated Hoar's ; position that while none of the ob-; ections to counting the votes of precinct ?A in Silver Bow County >vas sufficient of itself to justify re- j iection of the votes all of them to- j gather did constitute sufficient ground j for doing so by an anecdote of a! justice of the peace before whom a ; !i?P W:1S i?; wlm-b imAW'i (lis- ! tilict pleas in bar were entered. The j justice took them up one by one and ilecided as to each of them that it vvas not worth one cent, but that taking all of them together tliey made i good ease for the defendant. He ^Yance)had never heard a title to a >eat in the Senate based on such slender teellnical. trifiinsr grounds. He liad never known the public will [>f a community* to be thwarted and trampled underfoot on such flimsy pretexts. He knew, lie said, that the tint had gone forth. He knew that the Republican claimants were to be seated. But in the wise regulation of the moral world there was com-' pen tuition for all things. The Re publican Senators would be sicker over this thiny before tliey were done with it than he v. as. He once heard of an old fellow who went out to Ohio to speculate in hogs. He 'bought a big drove of them and shipped them to New York. He found that hogs were cheaper there than they were in Oliio. So he shipped^ them back and sold them in Ohio' and some fViorw! vvi/I +m Imii' ".Tityi vnn rnn/lp <1 bad speculation."* "Yes;", said lie?"I lost a good deal of money, but i had the company of the Logs both ways." So lie (Vance) thanked God that in all future denunciations of the South for the suppression oi' colored votes. Southern Senators would have the company of the hogs. [Laughter.] And .11 J.1. ..i. i.1. 1.1 1 i. ^ 1 i.^ !tn IJLUU mey huuhi jia,ve LU UU mis IU inquire of tlie Republican .Senators in their altitudinous c-enilean flights, of oratory for the purity of the ballot, "Who stole precinct No. 3-1 of Silver Bow County, Montana?" Edmunds inquired whether the 174 persons who had voted at precinct 31 were legal voters. Yance asserted that they were. They were aliens who had declared their intention to become citizens and they were under the Territoral laws cntij i i j j ilea 10 vote. Why the Farmer is Not Prosperous. A thoughtful writer In the April Forum has an article addressed to this, question: "Why the farmer is not prosperous." The writer admits the fact and deplores it. There are ten million people employed, in agriculture in the United States. The greater portion of these people are unprofitable" employed. The farming interest is in a condition of "unthrift," The state of affairs is not the result of laziness, for the planter works longer and lives more economically than other people. It is not due to the crop failures, for the land is productive and seasons in the main satisfactory. When the farmer rinds that he cannot make fair remuneration he concludes with justice that "the times are out of joint.'" He attributes his failure to the lack of silver, to a high tariff, to prevalence of trusts, to the railroads and to speculation in farm products. But these things have prevailed to greater or less degree since "Adam delved." and the "middle man" has always existed as a greater or less evil. The writer turns his attention to existing facts, and finds that wheat sells at forty to fifty cents a bushel, oats at nine to twelve cents, and com atften to thirteen cents. For thirty--' nine years ending 1889. the increase in population was 175 per cent., and the increase in the production of com was 257 per cent., of wheat 389 per cent., and of- oats 411 per cent. During twenty years the exportation of com has averaged less than five per cent., and of oats less than one per cent., so the price of these grains must depend on home requirements. With such tremendous increase in crops, the price is bound to fall. The com crop of 1889 exceeded that of 1887 by more than 050.000,000 bush els. yet. counting the cost of the extra amount handled, it will bring fclie growers 8100,000,000 less. Again, tlie crop of 1878 was (J4 per cent, greater tlian tliat of 174: and, allowance made for cost of handling, brought the fanners $149,000,000 less. The history of American farming I For twenty years is, in brief, that as j the area in cultivation has increased, j 50 has the product per capita, to be ! Followed bv ever-declininc orires and I diminishing returns per acre. If. in :he period ending in 1874, with a ?attle supply of 02 to 100 people, tlie supply of com less than 2-3 busliels per capita, that of wheat and oats .ess than (J.y bushels, and the domestic consumption of pork. 75 pounds ?or each inhabitant, all the requirenents of the people for bread and meat >pirits and provender were fullv and promptly mtu. it i?? < jiulc* i :hat, estimating consumption per capita as fifteen per cent, greater ;han. tlien. the present supply of beef s sufficient for 71.000.000 people; that }f swine of 70.000,000; of wheat for <9,000.000: of com for 70.500.000: and ;>f oats for more than 100,000.000. Hie logical conclusion from the e violence offered is that the trouble of ;he fanner are due to the fact that there are altogether too many farms. Tho Wheat. Cron. The Louisville Courier-Journal publishes reports on the growing tvlieat crop from one hundred and ifty of its coirespondents in Ken:ucky, Tennessee. Southern Indiana md Northern Alabama. The outlook n Kentucky and Alabama is for a learly average crop: while across the 3hio and in Tennessee the prospects ire not so 200d. This is especially :he case in the border counties of [ndiana. where cold and wet weather ias played havoc with the grain. Diseases Peculiar to women, especially monthly disorders. are cured by ;he timely use- of Bradfield's Female Regulator. ) i ta V Sj o?? ?M?tx?i???? A PICKPOCKET IN CHURCH. ! An Unexpected Incident at the Service of ; 1 the New York Methodist Episcopal Con.- j C ferenre. 1 I Xew Yokk, April 10.- During the i j session of the New York Conference i * ; ? :>f the Methodist Episcopal Church 1 ii Calvary Church, at One Hundred i lud Thirty-ninth street aad Seventh j x ivenue. there have been several occa- j sio.us when the members of the Coni'erence and others who attended the 1; meetings had occasion to complain chat either attempts had been made Lost money while entering or leaving s to pick then pockets or that they had \ the church. On two occasions the acts of the j pickpocket were so deliberate as to i ip,iv? TT< 1 f.lni.t. tVit. /?inrmn?1 wac I n professional. The Rev. Dr. Day, pastor of the church, called the attention of the police to the incidents, and Captain Hooker detailed several men in civilian's clothing to -watch for the offender at the service on Sunday morning. The announcement that Bishop Goodsell was to preach brought together a very large audience, and among the attendants w?i:s Mrs. Reed, one of the most active of the ladies connected with the church. "When the services were concluded Mrs. Reed walked with some of her friends toward the central exit of the church,, where there are placed contribution boxes to receive money for the assistance of missionaries. Mrs. Reed placed some money in one of these, and was about to put her hand in her pocket in order to get her handkerchief when she found a hand there. She turned quickly and discovered si neatlv dressed woman, about forty years old, wearing a shawl of Paisley manufacture and a very jaunty hat. Mrs. Reed followed the arm of the intruding hand and grasped the woman's shawl, exclaiming: "You thief, take your hand from my pocket!" Th-* woman muttered something and tried to take her hand away, but in her hurry it became tangled in the dress and she could not extricate it without tearing Mrs. Reed's costume. Slip did rtnt hesitate at this, however. She ripped the dress down the side, and would have escaped at once had not Mrs. Reed taken a firmer clutch upon the pickpocket's shawl and clung with all her might, calling for assistance, her necessity being apparent to those who were leaving the church. The thief, seeing that it was likely she would be captured, Scratched and tore Mrs. Reed's hands to such a degree that from very pain she was obliged to relinquish her lmi/i The woman in her struggle to get away lost her shawl and hat. "While the confusion continued she succeeded in regaining these and made her escape, without any of Captain Hookers men appearing or making any attempt to pursiie the woman and aiTcst her. Several members of the Conference chased the thief a little way. but they lost her in the rapidly moving crowd in Seventh avenue, j Mrs. Reed saved her pocketkook, but | at the expense of badly scratched | hands. The pickpocket can be identi- i fied by Mrs. Reed and those who saw j the occurrence should the police succeed in finding her. Kind Words of Cheer. When a proprietor knows he has a grand and glorious remedy for the "11- xl.^j. jO _ ./L .1 1.1 .1 many ills max nesn anu uioou are heir to: it pleases him exceedingly to receive such evidences of appreciation as follows: W. F. Miles, Milesville: N. C., writes: "I have used Botanic Blood Balm and find it to be all that it is recommended to be." D. C. Blanton, Thomasville, Ga., writes: "I have used Botanic Blood Balm in my family as a tonic and Blood purifier with high satisfactory results." ,r. u. Jtionmart, ecutor oitne ximes, Rocky Mount. Va., writes: "I am pleased to say that Botanic Blood Balm is the best appetizer and tonic for delicate people I ever saw. It acted like a charm in my case.", F. H. Hickey, 1208 Main street, Lynchburg, Va., writes: "I was broke Aiif oil nver Tc-i+li ar,foa cm el mv Vtflir was falling out. After using a few bottles of Botanic Blood Balm my bail' quit falling out and all the sores got well.'' Julia. E.-Johnson, Stafford's P. 0., S. C., writes: "I had suffered 13 years with eczema and was. at times confined to my bed. The itching was terrible. My son-in-law got me onehalf dozen bottles of Botanic Blood Balm, which entirely cured me and I ask you to publish this for the benefit of others suffering in like manner." August A. Klages, 810 St. Charles street, Baltimore, Md., writes: "From my youth I suffered from a taint in l\lAArl -Pn/in TTT*? C ! XXXJ UiVUU. IClVt; U.JJ.VX MVUJ ?T CtO continually affected with eruptions and sores. I am now 42 years of age and had been ;trea$ed both in German}* and America, but no remedy overcame the trouble until I used Bofomic Blood Balm. I have used about twenty bottles, and now my skin is clear, smooth and healthy, and I consider the poison permanently driven from my blood. I endorse it as the best blood remedy." An Edgefield Murderer Captured. Columbia, S. C.. April 9.?Whitfield Murrell, one of the convicted murderers of Paul Younce, who escaped from Edgefield jail several months ago, was captured this morning in a cave under his fathers house, six miles from Johnston. A score of men surrounded the house during the night, and today two of them crawled under and discovered him in a cave. He clapped a pistol to the head of one, but the other shot him j in the hand. Murreli let tail the j pistol and surrendered. A policy iii the Valley Mutual Life Association, on the ten year renewable plan, at age 40. costs only $14.25 per annum per $1,000. See advertisement. i ( i A Great Bridge. ti,~ i>? ! J. lit; xjlvj u.r>i; \j? JLttrj/- i resentatives lias passed the bill for j the big new bridge across the Hud-1 son Biver between New York and | 1 Jersey River. The bridge is to have j six railroad tracks, with capacity for ^ four more: is to be of a single span, j i and stand as high from the water as ; the present Brooklyn bridge. Its; < />/vn civil r>f-inn nrm?f I'vPu'ir) wiflliTl years, and end within ten years. This | bridge, if built, will excel the famous j ] Forth bridge. ?It is learned that Harper's Ferry jHenry county, Ky., was almost com- i pletely destroyed by the tornado. j : The village. composed of less than | two dozen houses, is a considerable | distance from the railroad. ; * \ : y,-ft v Pianos and Organs. N. W. Trump, 134: Main Street, Co umbia. 8. 0.. sells Pianos and Organs lirect from factory. Xo agents' com- i tiissions. The celebrated Cliickerng Piano, Mathusek Piano, cele>rated for its clearness of tone, lightLess of touch and las ring qualities. jiason & namnn cpngnt riano. Sterling Upright Piano, from ?22 IPAiion Piano, from 8200 up. Mason <fe Hamlin Organs, surpasse >y none. Sterling Orgeans. 8-30 up. Every Instrument guaranteed for iix years. Fifteen days' trial exjenses both ways, if not satisfaetoro. Sold on cnstallments. MSIIpS^; "v_" gf c .i i"*" ," fa 3 <*?. <&* !> ? " *> V. ->!? J. . -s.'; a Vi. ?. 2 w ia s.i: t; -;J J?? i- ? vaialofye. TtS.lY M'F'G C' ? ."? ASHVfLLL. Te"Langley Brothers, :? KING ST., chajklestox. c '1? A.\tFACrUKEi.S OF LAI>U>.' *%t J1 <?K>TS'Uaucr^ehx. Fine Drc;? Suit; hi>cei*lty. Direction ?'>r mw^nria a . ?, a uj pli'.atioa. :ro J r* l'&U?n i & ? M x > n i o . 0* i-f l f . \ '. ? j '' -v:: \ >TZ EI> TO CCTRJt 31*' !..' .i.tit . ~-?;i-et8j? .? ? tftof I}.. .re.**.- .1. Pno t. . /? " vi'- fi .>;uscn?u *ud a? ai? - * *?> ?diiiczwrz'i *> . * >. tJAfc K :rf9EDS CO, -V^j ' - rS7 &i .JUi iiLLzj O A i FEMALE* A|v^ Jo-' fc * ^ . 10 a C&FC1 Fif ? ^ ?->a.3 i ? I * FoppuysyrY.rfssED.ifj MENSTRUATION OR MONTHLY SICK'vtvS if T&KE.N OUWKG rv? ult GRtfVT SUfftWKG?:iicEAVOSja jQGOK TO" WO M A WJMznrxB BRA OF![10 RE GUI AT Gil CD. MTLAJfTAGA SOLO BY ALL Oe:USS:STU. JERSEY FLATS CfeUl and Fever Cure. Lar*< - ? r'les 51' c<cis, and eaaraat&ad te oure ia; v.- ? >! Cb;!}*- aa-i Fo*cr, Mai-.!*.]. Intennfttcn J!?d "i-sjijtKat Fevers- h? TH.S UAUIWrXT DttUtf CO . ASQTTSTJl, om -? t?v JKK<-^7 H?V?8. -oh 1^. uiLDER'S LIVER PILLS ^*ax>?? tL'. bU*. fr?a 'ki cysreci, owe *i >>i!i'/?f trou'-as, afi trial dig?aii.\. vi.- -U? s> >.'? ^aiJ usrchitau ??. s ?'* ? *v>*. ?' Bx'-lrj on receipt <.' orioe by i'Ti? K^nKiSTT l>kUG Of. 4BOC?Ti.. x *1 * ?+ 1 '* t > '* ?>)?* > PITTS' CARMINATIVE J/ORCORKKCTING NAUSEA. i>VS I . rv* .1 i m i i t fcuTV. i/utrniTji aoc cnuieni i? fi. ' imli A plva>a:U ?>f lQCJtl* !' I); tlj?- uuihi inlr for ell: i ?v Ii ;s popular. anil Jiuijs as??;bei'V frn-:.i! it sooth; - nr ii>e ftfutui!" Oh".u!<r&Di$. anil u tuim ii:- <ii.-?(hsr^. 'iota head, ftuS 'j'lie uj'.i''?'US disouar?r ii<-r he head tad lungs an* as proaaptiv r v-ri Uv it t?i>- muroiji, discharge J: fi" It is co relieve >. ~uf.iii> system, and <-i:re oausea. a>;>; .<.?> n. U (iic critical period tecfbjujj child res pale and easy ]t ut . ..*r.ft .1 tin f K/i Af*i t*> TinMrtiw anu i/urio." Uj; i u?; oicur * lt~r.iiefiug and curing tbe wasted ii*w't i* ;cc*>!Daifinjr<i ?n<i iised largelj >hjForfait- by Warmaiiiafci-. ? Muim> Co., C'oluuj!>;a. S. C., and who.ii" hi Howard & vvnietl. Augusta. Gl. The Tozer Engiae Works y surcof*wr to Dial Eogiao Works.) ORN A. WILLIS PROPRIETO* 117 Wist Gervats Stsibst -}j A NUFACTURBRS 07 THETozer Steam Eagmei AM vi-LSIZES OF BOTH LOCOMOTiVi A *N < > hi.TCHK TUBUJLAB BOUiEBSl"4 >i#EY WORK IN IRON AND BBaS* ? y.y* {Aim PBOMWLY EXECUTED. j-i'T A-via rp<> rLAMTKKJ AJXO BZLfiVQK, For Es<i mates on V?TEAM SAW MILLS, *: i. k. Harvesting and ohter J?a i.. a rite to the undersigned, who v. i:l guarantee the goods they may offer In "aH respects, and make matters interesting both to consumers ana competitors. We will alto furnish everything needed in the lite of supplies: Bating, Oils, Piping, Fittings, Valves, In* spir&tcrs Injectors, Pumps, Ao, Ac. / W. E. GIBBES, Js, & 00. ColnmM*. 8. C Talbott & Sons, RICHMOND, VI,, M a n uf a c t v r e r s Will furnish lowest t'HtiniatK" ?>n al! Kio<is of MACHINERY ENGINES AND BOILER-.. 3A\v MILLS AND GRIST MILLS L'OTTON GINS PRESSES AND ELEVA FOR* BRICK" AND TILING MACHINERY, PLANERS AND W OOD - WORKING MACHINERY. Wrji ' > ?) <r i>'i<:< < ?-fo j ? V C. BADHAW. G- '.M A**-\ Oluinbia, 8 C. | J nn- . LM.u 'r.nni VALLEY MUTUAL LIFE i I ASSOCIATION i -OF- t VIRSINIA. \ M. EESKIXE ROLLER, rresident ASHER AYERS, Secretary. J. FRED EFFINGER, Treasurer. 0 Began Business September 3. 1878. o % Reserve Fund ?108.000. (Invested 121 Bonds and Mortgages on Real Estate.) o Insurance in Force, over $10,000,000. Annual fremium Income, over $260,000. Death-losses paid, over... $1,700,000. Of which over ?200,000 has been paid in South Carolina. 715 B2RWUL3 POLICY, AS WRITTEN BY THE VaUSY 3SOTAL ll?Z iSSCSIATKI 0? Possesses the following jpr,uiiiitea: \ 1st. Its Premiums are fixed and made a part of the policy contract 2nd. It offers tlie lowest possible rates consistent with security. | 3rd. Its policies are incontestable 'after three years. 4th-. It gives a paid-up policy after fivfe years. 5th. At the end of any ten year i n in ii ? period tne insured nas tne option 01 either taking, 1st, the surplus to his credit in cash, and continuing the policy at his then rate; or 2nd, allowing the surplus to be applied as a credit on future premiums during the following Ten Year period. Gth. The policy is renewable at the end of any Ten Year period without re-examination. , /"; 7th. The policy-holder participates J in the. profits of the Company by reason of the division of the surplus at the end of Ten Year period. ' _: 8t; Its i'oi-m of policy is a model or 1) vity. being simply a promise to ' - pay. 9th. It has no restriction as to tr&v :. 1; . Being free from all teehnical1 s ;aivl the policy-holder being y allc d to participate in the profits , M of Company, coupled v.ith the very >vv rate (of cost, it presents an 'irrolv 'jitiraertvf' form of in surance. Ac tire and reliable. agents can 1 M mah- liberal terms by applying, with. refei v. ice. to LEE HAGOOD, > J State Agent, M uolumbia, S. C. DEJPOS1T \ YOUR STJEPLUS MONEY IN THE , J j COMMERCIAL BAM, [ ? OF? tj Jirtgjyi i COLUMBIA, S. C. | One dollar and upwards received. -m Interest at the rate of 4 per cent per ' ,M annum, paid quarterly, on the first 1 days of February, Hay, August and - * November. Married women and^?. 4 minors can keep account in their own name. Higher rates of interest allrvworl hv srw>i?l flrrano'AmPTit. C. J. Iredell, President J Jxo. S. Leaphart, James Iredell, t 1 Vice-President. Cashier. HIN3KRCORN8. Th* only sure Cure for Corns. Stops ail p&in. Ensnr?? , x>i:ifortu>thefcet.lSc.?.tDnig}rist8. Bncox&Co.,M.T. ^o-cr CONSUMPTIVE fuve tou Coosa. Jwoncbttb, Antiimft, Xrdlpestioii! L?o i "-cva iafjcdvo nul<&?Q. lakala^T** W *cd g Oft Dba r^asm fia IT WSHJCKS. Whispers heard. Com. ' 1 fcrilM?. SieilMWIWMnBSililtt SoUhr F. P8CBL ?a>, fciS BrMway, 5?w York. Writ* fbr fcook of pTMSi FBU. ?2 : ' . 1 i Agents wanted to VTA It Is a perfect " | sell Pinless Clothes jVll winter line. SamIdnen; no more w pie line sent by v J clothes pins needed, mm?m mall lor 50c., also IthoJds the beavest fmTM line by and finest fabrics Ml n| mall f 1.25 pre- jj without pius. * ** ** pala. For circa- ' A Clo'hes do r.ot freeze to j lars.price list, terms it ?t:id cannot blow off. address the * PiNLESS CLOTtiES LINE CO., ' fl J7 Hernion St.. Worc?ster, Mass. f I HAIR^BALSAM L feSY^Ss^sScieaiLvs And twaiilirw-d tha'tnlr. BwJSfjp. Hfil'Proiriou.'S * luxuri.-'JU yrorrth. Nevor Fails fo Restore Gray MsiP to U3 roornrot v*oior. | Carer? scalp iftta'-: & hair falling I |i5gf?g5*,3? SJ 5.vC ?pd gl.w^r-I>rug(ri?ot. | f CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH P0SIB8SS& PUIS. lied. Cross Diaiu<.::a The en'.y reliable pill Or *al?. fcfo '.r.i nre. Ladlet, ?*lc L'racct?f lor tc.. l:'\mo n d iiraady in r*d U>ze* m 1 ^ wlsfc biucribbeo. Toie?o other. S-t.-O-: . fitsap*) for pirtiotliTi a..j **HeU?.' I .e || Ladle*." <a lutrr, fcymslL. ><mm iv* c. " * CkklecterOk?"*le*lCo?, Mxilxm fcq.. Pfcllado,i'o. MADE WITH 601UNC WATER. E? Gi r r o ? grateful-comforting. m COCOA 1 made with boiling p/i.i-x. BiBmns&iiaxira 41 How Lost! Few Regained, " j| ff n iai! i am u ra??i r? THE SCIENCE OF L!?E - lj] A SJcientificaod Standard Popnwr Trc.*it;?e *" *J on the Error? of Youth,Prem.-utir2l>ccI:?.'-.'NiTv jcs fl and Phywcal Debility, liaparr:-:s of tJit. ?i?"xL Hcsnltinp from Follv. Vice. Ifnoraroe. Esoes?.a or Overtaxation, Enervating and unfitting the victim for Work, Business, the Marriedor S<^-a] Relation. Avoid unskillful pre tenders. Po-? s this prent 9 woric. It contains 200 pa<res,rovai- . Beautiful ^1 binding, embossed, foil gilt. Pric. 'y $1.00 by mail, postpaid, concealed in plain T per. HIrs- " .\ trativc Prospectus Free, if you t y. now. The L distinguish**! awthor, Wm. II. Parser, XL D., received th? GOLD AND JEWELLED MEDAL I from the National Medical Association for this PRIZE ESSAY on NERVOUS and PHYSICAL DEBlLITY.Dr.Parkeracdacorps M of Assistant Physicians may be consulted, confl- mm deitiallr, by mail or in person, at the office of Tire pptRnnv ivreniriT. nvtumpmr ^ No. 4 Bnlffnch St., Bot&on. Mods., to wfaom all orders for books or letters for advice be directed aa above.