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THE WAY IT GOES. Wheo Tom and Bill -were baby boya, Infant Bill Was fretful, squally, full of noise Homely Bill Redheaded, and it was a fact From morn till night his parents racked To keep his neck from being cracked Troublesome BUL As he grew older folks would say Lazy Bill, But naught he'd care; lt was his way Shiftless BUL ? He'd spend his time in idle joys And put his jobs on other boys, Poer fools that foUowed his decoys Scheming BUI. ? And when the boys to college went Foolish BUI To grinding work no interest lent Hopeless Bill While Tom was quick and apt to learn And said bright things at every turn That made the slow with envy burn Sluggish BUL School life was done, with aU its joys Thankful B?1 And business life claimed both the boys i , A chance for Bill. Tom made a noise-a stir, you know { But somehow it ne'er seemed to go. While close mouthed Bill raked in thc dough Knowing BUL j The years have come and gone away For Tom and BUL Tom keeps a set of books each day. And BUI Bas office hours from ten tUl twa Be's looking for new worlds to da i He owns a block, a bank or two Incomprehensible BiU. -Al dunlap in Chicago Inter Ocean. THE UNDERSTUDY. Well, gentlemen (the great trage .dian's voice shook a little as he put -down bis glass in the silence), yon little know perhaps what a string yon touched upon when you coupled my name with that of the great . ?lead and gone actor, Franklin Hyde. If 1 closed my eyes for a moment, I could easily believe that this was all a dream. When I think of the strange and unexpected incident .that sent me np the golden ladder .at a bound and of the man-well, there, gentlemen, 1 suppose few of you would credit that one night, only 15 years ago, 1 was upon the verge of suicide. It was about as black as it could be-partly, 1 own, because my am bition stood in my way. But when a man has studied and dreamed of a telling part in Drury Lane autumn .drama bis soul not unnaturally .sickens at the thought of reverting to minor roles in second rate tour ing companies. That was it I had been promised the part of Julian . Armstrong in that immortal piece, "Exiled," and then, when it came to rehearsal, it turned out that by ?some strange mistake the part bad already been allocated to another man. That man was Franklin Hyde, and I am not sure that 1 did not hate him on the spot True, I re ceived a check as a set off, but it seemed that my life chance had ?been snatched away, and my debts had mounted up again before I set to work to shake off the stupor of that disappointment And then I lound that 1 had let many other finances slip. Somehow-many of you who saw it played and recollect the great possibilities it gave will understand why-that part of Julian Armstrong had put a spell over ma 1 got in at a rehearsal. Standing by, sick with jealousy and longing, I watch ed Hyde's conception, and, great as " it was, I believed my own was greater, and a forlorn hope took possession of ma I determined to "understudy" him. Who knew! The drama was down to run until December. Might not some chance com em the interval? I felt-I knew -that 1 could play that part to the Jifa When, swallowing my pride, I spoke to Hyde of it, he laughed of course. "Waste of time and talent, I'm afraid. Mr. Lorrimer. Still 1 would not check ambition. If anything unforeseen should occur, and you are still anxious-well, we might think of you." And for weeks I was crazy enough to go dreaming of that great possi bility. I studied the part until I seemed to be living a dual existence. 1 would wake up in the night and shoat out my lines. I would go to the theater just to watch him and sit filled with a hunger of longing that 1 could never pat into words. 1 would wait hours outside just to see him step into his carriage, for "Exiled" had taken the town by storm, and he had a reputation now to live up to. ! And here-here was mid-Novem- J ber, and my young wife and I liv ing-no, starving-on dreams. We sat there in the dingy room that night, and perhaps there was some thing in my face, in my laugh, that told her what had been in my mind, for she did a thing she had not done all through that black time-came suddenly behind me to put her arm round my neck and burst into a pas sion of sobs-sobs that would have frightened me at another time. "Wilfred-don't! I'll work-IH do anything, but don't look sol Wilfred, it's no use-they will never send to you to play Julian, and you know it Put it oat of your mind and think ot something elsa Yes, I know-1 know what you could do S4 what it might mean for us in e future, ont the people go now lo see feaqfelin Hyde, not Julian alona Oh, if he knew! I don't Wish it, nor do you, but if-if" She stopped short there, as with a sudden instinct.. "Wilfred!" she breathed. Why ? Well, queer ideas had been flitting in and out of my overtaxed brain that night I know 1 got to my feet and held Maggie away by the arm and stood staring past her. "Aye," I whispered, "to think that there's only the one 'if in the way ! I'm not-I mean nothing. But suppose a little som exiling nappe ed to him one of these last nights suppose he slipped or his horse to fright! Suppose" Perhaps I had taken a step unco sciously, I don't know, but Magg gave a little cry and a rush ai stood there against the door, whi and trembling. "Stand still!" I recollect h whispering. "You are mad-y< will not go out again tonigl There, there, now you are calm? Why, Wilfred, whatever were y< thinking off" That night I did not close n eyes. I lay staring up at the ceilin Did I hate him? No, no! But th dreadful thought had come into n head, and it would not go. To thii that, should the little accident ha pen, I might be able to take h place, if only for the oncel Tl onoel It made my poor brain ree I felt I must get up and rush awi from it or something would ha pen. I could see the blazing fcc lights and the blurred row upon ro of pale faces, hear the shouts, fe myself drunk with the triumph, i great the play had proved. Y( see, so long I had dwelt on tl thought I could not realize it wi not a possible reality. And Magg -in her sleep she seemed to knov Several times 1 heard her sob. All that next day, too, she hung t me like my own shadow. The leai movement on my part seemed 1 frighten her. But I did not reali: that day's doings till afterward. E lived at Hampstead, in a big, lone! house. I had been to look at i There was a gravel sweep from tl door between two rows of tall eve: greens down to the gate. Healwaj stepped into his brougham, the said, at about a quarter to 7. Su] posing that this very evening a ma ran out from between the eve: > greens-a man with a knife or som? thing! Who would be able to pla Julian then? I dared not look into Maggie eyes. 1 knew vaguely, although tried to disbelieve it, that 1 onl waited for her toTtutr hpr back on moment I was mad. Four o'ciou came-5 o'clock. It had grown da st She had been sewing while 1 lay o the couch. Presently she put aside her worl tiptoed across and looked down a me. My eyes were closed, but knew-I breathed hard. "He's asleep,"! heard her whis per. "Thank heaven!" and sh crept out of the room. Was it to be? It seemed so. I re member that 1 sat up, both hand to my head, afraid of myself. Nex minute, holding my breath, 1 hat taken my hat and slipped out of th house. To do what? i did not know Afterward it all seemed like i dream. "Hampstead!" A han? seemed drawing me on, and that ont word beat in and out of my brain I must have obeyed both withou attempting to realize. Hampstead wai; two miles away, but just befon the clock struck 6 I found mysel: standing outside Franklin Hyde'i house. His house! All silent, but sooi his carriage would drive out to car ry him to the scene of his nightly triumph. Measured steps-a police man coming. Hot all over, I crouch ed baok among those evergreens. What was I doing? God knows. 1 tried to drag myself away from thc fascination, but suddenly a lighl shot out from a window on the left Ah, there was a balcony running along that wall of the house, and o shadow kept wavering across the patch ot light Never pausing tc think, I went up the steps, tiptoed along and was peering between some ivy boughs into the room. The shadow It was Hyde himself-and alone. A billiard table ran the length of the room, and he was leaning over the far end, his cue tip feeling the way for some stroke. Ah, that was a minute! As if it were only yester day, 1 can see that picture now-the green baize, the pointed stick and Hyde'B impassive face craned for ward, his wide eyes unconsciously staring straight toward me. Spell bound, without knowing why, 1 hung breathlessly on the stroke of his cue-and it never cama He turned suddenly half round, then straightened up. The door be hind him had opened, and a servant was saying something. Next mo ment a woman was standing in the doorway, one hand put out as if she were frightened. Sho pulled the door to, took one step, and then lift ed her veil. My heart gave one never forgotten jump. It was-it was my wife! *'Oh, forgive my coming !" I heard her say faintly. She had a hand to her breast "I-I was afraid some thing might-I-my husband" She broke oif there a Dd stood star ing at him, as if afraid for what she might have done. "Your husband?" Hyde repeated slowly. "You will pardon me, but I really don't understand." "No,"8he began. Even at such a moment my heart went out to her -she looked so white and implor ing. I could see it all-what she had feared, why she had come. I felt a mad longing to crash through that window and confront him, but mastered myself by a great effort. She had taken another step and put a hand on his arm. "Oh, don't ask me what or why," I juBt caught. "I thought perhaps-nothing, noth ing! Only be careful of yourself, sir, going to and from the theater f ' That was it I saw him start and look slowly round. "What do you mean?" he said, looking down into her poor eyes "Careful of myself? Your husband, I vou said. Do I know him ? Yes, J I insist. You come here-w?at < you fear? What is his uame?" "Lorrimer!' she must have \vb pered. "Lorrimer-ah I" I slmll not ft get soon the way he turfed roui his finger to his lips, as ilf intense struck. "Why, that's the man' he turned back to her-^'and y thought he was-here! Vvjhy" He was interrupted by ? choki gasp. She had seen me-Lseen r face pressing close against' the gk -and stood with dilated ey? There was no time tytm, or ev to realize. The windop was thra\ up, and Hyde had me-yes, by t throat Into the light hedragg me like a thief, h,ad his stare, a: then his grip relaxed. "Ohl" he breathed, with half sneer. "So this is how you und? study me, is it ? You-what we you doing there i Shall 1 send f the police?" ) I neither speke nor moved, could not. He stepped back. I su pose that the turn of my whole Iii for better or worse, hung in tl balance at that moment, and it w Maggie who turned the scale. H woman's quickness saved me f this moment There were two or. stretched arms between him ai that door. Maggie! "Oh, Mr. Hyde, if you knew bi the half, you would weep for him She said thak, and he, whtf had see so many women play a part to hir seemed held to listen in spite ? himself "Think 1 he was to hai played tho part It seemed that h ambition was to be suddenly crow; ed-he believed he could idealize i And then all his hopes to be crushe in a moment 1 Yes, think! Go bac to your own struggling days; stat where he stands now. Night ai day he has been tortured by tl thought of what he might be toda -by the foolish hope that he mig! be able to take your place foroi night. Oh, nc, it was not profe sional spite. It was only a huma longing to do himself justice, that is not to be, at least you wi iet him go as he came, and 1 wi answer for the rest. One day-or day my husband will succeed, know it-and then he will than you!" And Hyde, stupefied, looked froi one to the other of us, hesitated an closed his eyes as if to shut out tt sight of her close, imploring f aa Then, drawing a breath, he turne to me, without the sneer, but ii credulously. "And so you think that you cou! play Julian-such a Julian, I meai as would stir that crowd hurryin west at this moment?" "Try him 1" she put in in a thril ing whisper. Unconsciously sh had said the cleverest thing sh could have done, if only because i spurred his curiosity. "Quick 1" he said suddenly, glanc ing at his watch. "1 have barel; half an hour For the moment yo shall be Julian, with an audience o two. Now, without a pause, th lines at the mine. Enter Sabrofl cracking his whip: 'His wife! I he mad? Tell him sentiment dies ; natural death here in Siberia 1' " As if it had been a challenge-a if my personality had been tr?ne formed while the words were on hi lips-I took him up. It was the tell ing speech of the play-the part ii which Hyde obtained his greates triumph night by night How 1 delivered it 1 cannot say I only know that my whole sou seemed to go out in the words, ane that when 1 had finished my wifi stood there like a statue, and Hyde'i own lips were parted. There was i queer silence in the room for wha seemed minutes. Then-then I look ed and saw his hand put out. "Mr. Lorrimer," he said, "I take back that word. You have not un derstudied me-you have created your own conception. " He stood awhile, his hand to his forehead. Then he sat down, torc a slip of paper from his notebook and wrote something off impetu ously. "There," he said, "I'm not going to ask why you came here-I know. And I'm doing something for you that not many men would do in the circumstances. Take that note to my dresser and play Julian. It's quite right, Mr. Lorrimer, or will be, I hope. You want your chanoe. You shall have it. 1 am indisposed for this one night. You-it lies in your hands te? give the public their money's worth. Take my brougham and be off, and I'll telegraph to the manager. You will find all you re quire in my room there, and, one word, if ever you kept your head, keep it now." I knew that my wife had kissed me, and that a few minutes later I was being rattled along the streets, but that was about all. It was not j until the very moment when I step ped on to that stage as Julian that I made the effort of my life and re alized fully how ruy destiny as an actor was in my own bands. And then-well, I need say no more. Some of you here will recollect that night and know better than I what it was that made my audience rise at me, and why 1 have never looked back. As l'or mo, the one thing I remember clearly is that as 1 left the theater Kike one in a dream a man gripped my hand and said something that I shall never forget. That man was Franklin Hyde. Gentlemen, here's to his memory God bless him !-London Tit-Bits. - A French Canadian widow in Montreal, aged (>F>, is the mother of 26 children. The eldest is 42 years of age, and she has just had him arrested for abusing her. THINE EYES. Thine eyes still draw my soul unto thino own. Although our hands have strangors grown And lips have never dearer known. Thine eyes all other loves dethrone, Thine eyes with passion flowers sown. All that tho tyranny of life denies Heartbroken vows, unvoiced replies, Visions that swift forbidden rise Live in the nearness of thino eyes. Thine eyes too tender to be wisel -Harper's Bazar. SACRIFICE. After mass the priest Legrand re turned to the vestry room. The dull light of a November sky glim mered through the panes of the only window. Out of the obscurity there arose a woman, a pitiful object, with her little kerchief knotted be neath her chin, her face bathed in tears. She threw herself at the feet of the priest, crying out, "They are going to shoot him!" "Shoot himl Who?" asked the priest "The Prussians-my husband!' and a sob choked the unfortunate creature. Very much affected, the priest quickly set down his chalice on a table and, taking the hands of the poor woman in his own, made her stand up. "But how-your husband?" "Yes; on account of the uhlans that were killed yesterday by the sharpshooters. The Prussians have had lots drawn this morning, and three men are to be shot-Vincent Laideur and my husband. Save him, reverend sir!" "But I can do nothing, " replied the priest, with a discouraging ges ture, and then, his bowed head rest ing on his hands, he began to reflect. The thought of the misfortune that was about to befall his parishioners and his own inability to avert it grieved him deeply. Not to be able to help them, his flock-for whom he spent himself unceasingly, de voted even to sacrifice. Should he allow her to depart thus, this weep ing woman who had oome to ask him for her husband? "I must save him at any price, " he said to him self, and, turning to the woman, "Take courage," he said, "and hope." Hastily he took off his priestly ornaments and directed his steps to the mayor's residence, where was installed the captain commanding a platoon of uhlans sent as an ad vance guard. The naturally pale face of the priest grew paler and paleras the road shortened. The idea of this formidable interview made him quiver with excitement, but his excitement banished his timidity. He was conducted into the council room. Seated at a table, the captain was signing some papers He looked the priest full in the face, and, in order to anticipate a request that he dreaded, said in French, in an abrupt manner: "What do you want, sir?" "I have come to ask-pardon for the people of this village. They are innocent, " stammered out the priest. "Warnas terrible necessities,"re plied the captain. "Your sharp shooters kill a number of our men everyday. We must have done with them. So much the worse for the villages that harbor them. " The priest tried to argue the mat ter, but all his reasons were shat tered against the pitiless logic of the German officer. At length, con vinced of his inability, he tried only to save one of his prisoners. "Grant me at least the pardon of Leroy. He has three little chil dren." The captain showed some sign of pity, but, pointing to the table on which his papers lay, he said: "The orders are explicit I would be un true to my duty as a soldier. You ought to understand me, sir, you who are a priest. Three of our uhlans have been killed. We must have three victims. " Nothing was left for the priest to do but to depart. However, he did not stir. After a somewhat pro tracted silence the oaptain raised his head from the papers with which he was busy and snapped his fin gers with a gesture of impatience. Suddenly the priest advanced, and, as if almost ashamed, he murmured: "I have neither wife nor children. Will you accept me?" The officer fixed his eyes upon the priest with a look of sympathy After a moment's silence he said: "This is a serious thing that you ask of me. You aro young yet. Think of it well." "I beg you to grant it," said the priest. Without replying, the captnin be gan to write. Then he arose and, holding out a sheet of paper, said, "Here is the order to set the man Leroy at liberty and put you in his place. " And in a grave tone he add ed, ."Reverend sir, will you do me the great honor to give me your land?" The priest extended' his hand and heartily clasped the hand of the German officer. With a light step, so happy at the thought of his sacrifice that, regard less of his dignity, he was disposed to run, the priest rapidly reached the schoolhouse where the condemn ed men were imprisoned. The com mander of the guard, a uhlan effi cer, trailed his saber before the door with a great clank. Without deign ing to answer the salute of the priest, he took roughly the sheet of paper, but, after reading it over, tho harsh expression of his face grew softer. He drew himself up to his full height and, raising his hand to his shako, he said respect fully: "Will you please enter, sir?" At the door of the sohooiroom the nriest begged'the officer to summon Leroy, wiio, ovcrwtielme? wi grief, seized the hands of the prie murmuring: "My wife 1 My poor little ones "Courage, my friend," said t priest. "Do not lose hope. " With tact he told his parishion that he was pardoned on account his family. The man began to lau? and dance, almost beside himse He wanted to run home immediai ly, but the priest succeeded in cali ing him, and at length they both s out on the road to his house. Ne a gate the priest said : "Remain here. I am going to i form your wife." She, surrounded by her childre whose merry voices were now hus ed, was sadly working in her hui ble cottage, but the beaming face the priest as he approached a nounced the joyful news. . "He is free!" Without replying, the prie smiled. "1 want to see him I" she exclaii ed. "He is coming." And husbai and wife were in each other's arr in silent joy. "We have not thanked you," sa the man at last. The priest, very much moved, r plied, "Your happiness is my r ward. " He clasped the hands of tl husband and wife, kissed the chi dren and hastened to return to t! schoolhouse. In a corner of tl schoolroom the forest keeper, Ls deur, a veteran of the Italian ai Crimean campaigns, gloomy, h arms crossed, stoically smoked h pipe. Near him Vincent, a your man about 18 years of age, his hea resting on his hands, seemed 1 sleep The priest sat down between tl two prisoners His exhortations an his encouragements made the youri man sob. Laideur swore The prie: took each by the arm, and, knowin that no one would communical with them, he said to them : "We must stand together by an by. You, Laideur, must set us a example, an old soldier like you." "You are going to be with us? asked the forest keeper. . "Yes, indeed, instead of Leroj you understand. He has a wife an children. " Carried away with enthusiast! Laideur exolaimed : . "You are indeed a hero! Surel; we will stand by each other! If could only have killed a few mor of those cock sparrows-but m; rheumatism!" With a smile, the priest oalmei the excitement of the worthy fellow and then, turning to Vinoent, askei if he wished to confess. The younj man consented. "And you, Lai deur?" he asked. "Oh, as to me, you know I am no pious!" "Do it for my sake." "Well, now, would that give yoi pleasure?" "Muon pleasure, my friend. " "Very well, then, " said the forest keeper, pulling up his sleeves as il about to unload a heavy burden. On his return to his vestry-foi he had obtained permission to re main free in order to make his final arrangements-the priest asked thc sexton to summon the inhabitants of the village to meet him at thc church at 3 o'clock. According to habit, after hie breakfast betook some bits of bread and sugar and went into the inclo sure in front of his house. On catching sight of him his donkey stopped feeding and advanced to ward him. The priest put his arms around her neck, and with the palm of his hand stroked her velvety nos trils, repeating: 'My good beast I My good beast!" His tenderness was extended to all the animals, companions of his solitude, and these, rendered gentle by his great kindness, offered them selves to his caresses. Meantime the donkey had freed her head and walked around her master, snuffing the air and then began to bray. "Greedy one, is that tthat you want?" said the priest, drawing out from his cassock a piece of bread. Sounds of clucking and flapping of wings now claimed his attention. He stooped, and cooks and hens came to peck from his hands. His rabbits were not forgotten either. While giving them some bran he slowly passed his hand through the fur of their rounded backs. As his donkey had followed him, he hand ed her a bit of sugar, and the beast began to munch it, shaking her ears with visible satisfaction. Her round and gentle eyes seemed to regard her master tenderly The priest felt a cold chill pass through his frame, and, with bowed head, bis hands be hind his back, ho went into his gar den. In the midst of the squares of earth glittered the clean gTavel walks. The leafless pear trees stretched their arms, covered with straw, in parallel lines along the walL The priest fastened up a loos ened branch with a bit of osier and dreamily continued his walk in the bright sunshine along the garden wall. Pausing at length, he opened a little doer looking out on the fields. Silent, bcthed in light and mois ture, the plain stretched far away. In places stacks of wheat, rounded like dovecots or similar to little houses, formed hamlets of straw. To the left a forest of beech trees joined the pine wood, which barred the horizon. For a long time the priest fixed his eyes on this familiar landsoape, as if to imprint it upon them. Then he closed the door, but his look, passing above the walls, stopped at the church clock. Thc short hand was between tho figurer and 2 ; the other had passed over he half of the dial plate. "In three hours I will be dead," hought he, and instinctively he rossed his arms over his breast, as f to protect it against the bullets. Fhree hours longer and he would ie nothing more than a lifeless ?ody, nailed up in his coffin. In bin ?orbid imagination he seemed to lear the dull thud of the first spade luls of earth upon the wood. To die thus in full health, in the dgor of lifel Was this possible? ?ow many simple pleasures in his lappy life, without desires and with lut ambitions; the duties of his jriesthood, the alleviation of the )oor and suffering, the intercourse vith his brethren, the care of his mimais and of his garden I Ah, why lad he committed this folly of off er ng himself as a sacrifice ? Distracted vith anguish, he sprang with a )Ound to the gate and opened lt ab ruptly. His look followed the grassy )ath that led from the foot of the vail and, winding between the flowed fields, joined the road. In hought he hastened along this road, md dashed through the forest into veli known paths. Yonder, some niles away, was a railway station. The priest bent his head forward n anxious gaze. The plain was de serted as far as the horizon. No one tvould see him flee. He would reach the station, take the train and go far, far away-would be free, would live, would livel Maddened, he was about to rush forward, bareheaded, but his word af honor-but Leroy 1 With a sob, he closed the gate, and, kneeling, he called to his aid, with all the strength of his faith, that Saviour who at the approach of death had experienced in the garden on the Mount of Olives all its terrors, all its agonies-dying, as it were, in advance. He besought him to aid him to the end and re store to him his fortitude; then, with renewed strength and recog nizing that solitude and reverie in iuced weakness, he hastened back to his house. His accounts made out exactly, his little property classified and valued, he made his will, leav ing small sums to the most needy of his parishioners and little souvenirs to others. Finally he bequeathed his donkey to a wealthy family, with the request that they would never sell her, and thus spare her from spending her last days in mis ery, dragging along the roads the cart of some peddler. 5. Having completed these arrange ments, he passed a long time in fer vid prayer, asking pardon for his faults and relying wholly on the mercy and justice of God. As the clock struck 3 the priest descended the stairway of his house and proceeded to the church. This was as full ns on days of high festival. In the presence of the misfortune that was about to fall upon the village even the most thoughtless had come to assemble about the man who represented the highest moral authority. In his sur plice the priest passed through the crowd of worshipers, and, ascend ing the pulpit steps, after a few mo ments of meditation he said: "My brethren, I am very glad to see you united here in such great numbers. The authorities have been pleased to grant me the pardon of Leroy, but 1 have not been able to obtain that of Laideur and Vincent. 1 have seen them and comforted them. They are ready to die as Frenchmen and as Christians. " Without fine phrases, but with perfect simplicity, he spoke of duty, self sacrifice and love of country. His words sent a thrill through his assembly, whose ideal was ordinari ly confined to material interests. Turning toward the altar, he in toned in a firm voice the *De Pro f undia " Then he gave his blessing to the congregation, praying for pa Hence and resignation and request ing each one to return to his home and there remain. Leaving the church, he was seen to direct his steps to the schoolhouse. The next morning the inhabitants of the village learned that their priest had been shot by the Prus sians.-From the French For Short Stories. A Stony Fair. The following "stony" wedding announcement appears in an east Tennessee exchange: "Married at Flintstone, by Rev. Windstone, Mr. Nehemiah Whitestone and Miss Wil helmina Sandstone, both of Lime stone." This is getting mighty "rocky," and there's bound to be a "blasting" of these "stony" hearts before many "pebbles" appear on the connubial beach. The grind stone of domestio infelicity will sharpen the ax of jealousy and dis cord, and sooner or later one or the othepof the pair will rest beneath a tombstone. Then look out for the brimstone.-Lexington Argonaut To th? Point. "It's utterly absurd," exclaimed King Cheops, rising to put an end to the argument "to say there 'is al ways room at the top. ' I'll show you there is not!" And he went out and built the great pyramid.-Chicago Tribune. CASTOR IA For Infants and Children. The Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the Signature of - With the exception of Brazil, Spanish is the prevailing language of every country in South America. Once Tried, Always Used. If we sell one bottle of Chamber lain's Cough Remedy, we seldom fail lo sell the same person more, when it is again needed. Indeed, it has be come the family medicine of this town, for coughs and colds, and we recommend it because of its establish ed merits-Jos. E. HARMED, Prop. Oakland Pharmacy, Oakland, Md. Sold by Hill-Orr Drug Co. - A lady tells that when she was a poor little girl, living in the country, she used to "plant corn in her bare Feet. ' ' This imparts a new idea of the origin of those troublesome things growing on our toes. Ladies Who Suffer From any complaint peculiar to their sex-such as Profuse, Pain ful, Suppressed or Irregular Men struation, are soon restored to health by Bradfield's Female Regulator. It is a combination of remedial agents which) have been used with the greatest success for rnore than 25 years, arjd Known to act speci fically with and on the organs of Menstruation, and recommended for such complaints only. It oe ver fails to give relief arjd restore the health of the suffering woman, lt should be taker.) by the girl just budding irjto womanhood wheo Menstrua ! tion is Scant, Sup pressed, Irregular or Painful, and all delicate womer; should use it, as its toole properties bave a won derful Influence io toning up and strengthening the system by driv ing through toe proper channels all impurities. "A daughter of one of my ea? tornera in towri menstruation from exposure and cold, and on arriving at puberty her health was completely wireoked, until she was twenty-four yean of age, viten upon my recommendation, ghe-naed one bottle ofBradneld'a Female Reculator, com pletely restoring her to health." J. W. UXLLVHB, Water Valley, Miss. THE BRADMCLD RCOULATOR CO., ATLANTA, QA. .OTO BT. A IX DRUGGISTS AT SI PUB BOTTLK. if ehildren Are geoerally Peny. Stomach aptet, Bowel? oat of order-do eot rest well at eight. The very beet remedy for childreo while teething ?a PITTS' CARMINATIVE. rt caree Dierrboee, regeletee the Stomach ?ad Bowel*, earea Wlee Cede, eefteM the Seme, caree Chot era hfeetam, Caetera Merke*. Crie iea, ead ecta ?romptly. rt Io goed fer odetta, tee, eec le e aeedfic 1er vomiting eerief ptaeeaacy. Sold by all Druggists, 25 and 50c CHARLESTON ANO WESTERN CAROLINA RAILWAY AUGUSTA A NU ASHEVILLE 8HOBT LUCE In effect JuneJlS, 1898. Lv Augusta... Ar Greenwood... ir Anderson.......... Ar Laurens. Ar Greenville. Ar Glenn "pringa-.. Ar Spartanburg~...., Ar Salada.. Ar Hendersonville. Ar Asheville., 915 am 1150 am 12 50 pm 215 pm 4 05 pm 2 80 pm 4 25 pm 4 69 pm 6 52 pm ISO pm 6 io pm 7 00 aa 1015 am 10'?'??i Lv Asheville. Lv - partan DU rg.... Lv Glenn Springs. Lv Greenville. Lv Laurens. Lv Anderson. Lv Greenwood... Ar Augusta. Lv Calhoun Falls.. \r Raleigh. Ar Norfolk. Ar Petersburg..... ?r Richmond. 8 28 am 1135 am 10 00 am 11 50 am 1 20 pm 3 05 pm 4 00 pm 8 &0 pm ....... 630 am 2 85 pm i..\....r 4 55 pm 10 50 am 4 44 pm 216am 7 80 ?4 6 00 aid 8 15 am Lv Augusta. Ar Allendale ... Ar F irfax . vr Yemassee..., Ar Beaufort..... \r Port Royal. Ar Savannah.... Ar Charleston.., Lv Charleston.. Lv Savannah.... Lv Port Boyal... i v Beaufort. Lv Yemassee.... Lv Fairfax. Lv Allendale.... Ar Augusta. 9 45 am 10 60 am 11 05 am 1 40 pm 1 55 pm 3 05 pm 2 65 pm 5 00 pm 5 15 pm 6 20 pm 7 20 pm 7 35 pm 7 35 pm 910 pm 6 00 am 6 60 am 8 SO am 8 40 am 945 am 10 61 am 11 05 am 110 pm Clon connection at Calhoun Falls for Athens, Atlanta and all poi u ta on 8. A. L. Close connection at Augusta for Charleston, Savannah and all points. Close connections at Greenwood for all points on S. A. h., and C. ? G. Ballway, and at Spartanbdrg with southern Railway. For any Information relative to tickets, rates, schedule, etc., address W. J. CRAIG, Gen. Poss. Agent, Augusta, Ga. E. M. North, Sol. Agent T. M. fcmerson, Traffic Manager._ GEN. R. E. LEE, SOLDIER, Citizen and Christian Patriot. A GREAT NEW BOOK for the PEOPLE. LITE AGESTS WANTED Everywhere to show, ?ample pages and get ap Clubs. EXTRAORDINARILY LIBERAL TERMS ! Money can be made rapidly, and e vast amount of good done in circulating one of the noblest his torical works published during the patt quarter of a century. Active Agents are now reaping a rich harvest. Some of our best workers are selling OVER ONE HUNDRED BOOKS A WEEK. Ur. A. <T. Williams, Jackson county, Mo , work ed four days and a half and secured 61 orders. He sells the book to almost tvery man he meets. Or. J. J. Mason, Muscogee county, Ga., sold 120 copie? the first five days be canvassed H. C. Sheet?, Palo Pinto county, Texas, worked a few hours am sold 16 copies, mostly morocco blading. J. H. Hanna, Gaston county. N. C made a month's wa ges in three oays cauvassing for this book. 8- M. White, Callahan county. Texas, is selling booka at the rate of 144 copies a week. The work contains biographical sketches of all the Leading ener?is, a vast amount of historical matter, and a large number of beautiful full-page illustrations. It ls a grand book, and ladles and gentlemen who can give all or any part of their time to the canvass are bound to make immense suma of money handling it. An elegant Prospectus, showing the different styles of binding, sample pages, and all materiel necessary t" work with will be sent on receipt of 50 cents The magnificent gallery of portrait?, alone, in the prospectus is worth double the mon ey. We furnish it st far less than actual cost of msuufacture, and we would > dvi?e you to order quickly, and get exolusive control of the best ter ritory, Address ROYAL PUBLISHING COMPANY, Eleventh and Main Streets, RICHMOND, VA.