Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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ll L H CHAPTER XXVII. RAYMOND was gone for nearly two hours, but when he did appear he was entirely self contained and very gentle. Tc? must go to sleep," he said at ^oce. "1 will watch. I want to beg yesr pardon for seizing Munro in your ; Igaesence, but it was necessary both ! t 0>r bis sake and to prevent bloodshed. I j I saw no other chance of disarming j teax. I hope you will excuse my harsh- j j $K5S in sending you away." j r Ton need not apologize. I under- ! StDO&T* she answered. "What have < done with him ?" : r ^Relly has taken him away out of i ^Sanger. Have any of his men called i Scar Wm?' , t Tes, one. but he rode away again. ? i " -Save you any further news?" ? < ."Something i?, going on in Bozle. I ?J?>5 hear cheering, and I thought I < cooid distinguish the galloping of ] Parses. Whatever is coming, my duty < SB here, and now let me take you to ? 2tea-^ ; 1 "Xo, r.o". I can't sleep now. My t ^ttz?n ls whirling with this night's i Qvesrts. I feel as if I were about to WS&BBfess some great storm, some catas- j ?rophti. .Sleep is Impossible tonight." ! 1 He- turned with low voiced intensity, i ] ".What can I do to repair the injury I \ l&ave done you and yours? When I i left Barnett's home I was resolved i j $tt?rer to re-enter your life again. I : ] ?iOttestly tried to get away from Louis j SUB* te take myself absolutely out of ! ] ^<ser world.-" I < Sse interrupted him with a gesture ? protest "You must not blame your- ? j ?elf-Xt had to be. Do you lieve in 1 2&te?T j 1 ~T do Qot, nor in luck," he answered j ?."Maimer do I, but I believe in com- } < q||^ss^??zis Since ? < ? p here ; ; JS&VC rfoj K~ ! sorj ? life [*ve . B HAMLIN COPYRIGHT. 1905. BT '"Q?a, Rob, don't kill himr she called, of Louis. Opening the door, cried again, "Don't, please don't!" Kelly was binding the captain's feet "White Raymond, with a knee on his .t??est and one hand at his throat, iook ^9d up at -*T"? as she stood in the door Way and said: "Please go in. We are *k*m? this for his own good. We won't ~3Hzrt him. He'll.thank us for it when 3*e understands our motive.* Munro, like a trapped wildcat, snap? ped at his captor, but Raymond's long Angers prevented him. "Now, listen, -?Tack. You did me a good turn today, -?nd I'm going to do as much for you. $*m going to save you from state's pris? on against your own fool's will. You're ^jo?og to leave camp tonight dead sure thing! And you might as well^go quiet? ly. If you don't, we'll pack you on 3?oar horse like a roll of blankets. Will .you be quiet? Will you ride your horse or mast we tie j ou on?" Again the frenzied man renewed his ^Struggle. Blindly, ferociously, like an ?c?mal, deaf to all ranson, acknowledg? ing no law but that of force, he writh <ed, beating the ground. His gasping breath was painful to hear. At last ?aide, who had been picking handily -*t his medicine case, suddenly opened *the door and ran out "Here is where the man of medicine .?comes, in/' he called jovially, and Shrus* a folded handkerchief beneath "Munro's ^nostrils. "Let Jinn breathe, Raymond,15" "he said quietly. "It'll "do feim good." Monro's knotted muscles almost in? stantly relaxed, his hands fell inert, 5xis head turned quietly to one side, -?and his face became as peaceful as a steeping child. ""What have you done?" whispered ^??y excitedly. Braid? laughed. "Hypnotized him. Tera ?an do as you wish with him now, t?z? work quick." ?*Mtach obliged, doctor," said Ray TCead. i4Take him up, Matt Let's 3?ut him away while he sleeps. He'll 3F> hy freight now." As they laid hold ?of the corpselike figure he added to Ann. and to Braide. "Not a word of .this to any one I" A. &BOck at the door srartied Ann. , th?i visitor was only one of Mun- | ser's men. deferential, almost timid, in ! ^feetr presence. ' ?Ixcuse me, but has the captain been j &ere this evening?" he asked politely. I The doctor quickly answered, "Yes, t?nt he went away again almost imme? diately." yon see him, just tell him we need liim on the hill." 'TU do so gladly." ""SDnch obliged." The messenger 'Withdrew, and they soon heard him 3ja2k??p .swiftly away, and all became silent At Ann's insistent request Braide -weat Jhack to his couch, and she was ?gain "alone, waiting for Raymond's -?etnrn. 33*e .situation in the great drama f ( "Was Hb'w quite clear to her mental I j : vision. She could see the small array ^ wafting below, foolishly eager for the I j coming of the dawn, and it was not HiUBcuit te imagine the excitement and 'Coostemation in Munro's forces when then* leader failed to appear. She un? derstood also something of the panic -?n Bozle and in the valley and realized r*hat though the night the news of the Spending assault on the peak was ??ymg, loosed along aerial ways by the tapsphig fingers of a hundred deft, dis? passionate operators. GARLAND r HAMLIN GARLAND beenThappy "here. That S?OU?? comfort you," **It would only I cannot rid myself of the thought of what you have sacri? ficed to be here. Each day has prang? ed you deeper Into this lawless barba? rism." '"lhere is where my theory helps me. One's life has a general average. My life had no real value to me cor to any one else till I came west. PVeas nrres come to me now when I least ex? pect them. That ls a wonderful thing .to me. I thought I had lost all power to vividly enjoy, but I haven't So you see I am not accusing you or any one. I have only reason to be thank? ful, if only no harm comes to Louis or my friends here. I shall not com? plain/' "It is very sweet of you to try to lighten my sense of guilt," he replied gently. "But I cannot absolve myself so easily. I can understand your theo? ry, but I cannot understand how you find a disappointment You have ev? erything to make you happy." She went on: "I am by heritage a worker. I know that now. My father's people were active and calculating folk, and my life in the city was un? natural. I've been deliciously hungry and weary since I've been here-life seems restored to its balance. You have done me good-you and splendid oki Matt and sweet Nora." He sprang from his chair and faced her. "l'on mustn't talk to me so," he exclaimed, almost harshly. "I shall forget my promises and say forbidden words to you. You unseat all my good resolutions." She heard, but ignored his. passionate words. A sort of mental and spiritual recklessness had seized her. "All my life in the east and in the old world, everything in the past, seems gray, as if covered by a mist The realities seem to be here. I feel grateful to you, and I want to ask a favor of you." "Anything you ask, except a renewal of my-promise of silence."' She hesitated before the rising storm of his love. "I want yon io ?et me Louis and me-help rebuild your mine." "What do you mean?" "it's so simpie. You and Matt need money. I want you to take Louis into your mine as a partner. Hu?li!" she warningly whispered as the sleeper's head moved on his pillow. "If he lives he will want to work with you. If he dies I must help you for his sake." "He will not die. He will live. But you-Ann, there is something back, of this." He laid his strong hands upon ber shoulders, looking into her face with such piercing passion that she shrank and grew timid. "You need me? Is that it? Am I one of your compensations ?" She tried tb smile. "That would not be flattering, according to my theory." He refused to be diverted. "I don't care what your eastern world thinks >f me if only you are content with me. [ accept your theory. I deserve com? pensation-some sweet return for my oneiy, loveless life on the plain. Will rou come? Is that what you mean?" He was master now, stopping at no x>lite bar. "I will not let you go till rou speak your mind." His physical ?old on ber arms softened, but his spiritual self closed round her. "Six nonths ago I was a rancher in the 'oothills, and you were In a great east? ern city. We were as wide apart as the x>les. Now, here we are! I don't un? terstand it This I know-you are 1?re, and I can't let you go. I accept rour offer to go into the mine, but not 'or Louis' sake. I do it for my own ?ake because I want you to be my )artner-my wife. What do you say, leaper, my star of the west?" She put him away almost in terror. *I can't decide now. I must be sure iure, and Fm not sure. I must have ime to consider. I must go back Into ny o?d life-to my native city." "You say you are happier here than n the east "Why go back at all? Why isk the loss of this new found health?" "I will be honest. It is because by contrast tbe old life begins to glow. Che change in me may be due to? phys cal causes. Perhaps I could carry my .ecovered joy of life back with me. If his should be so, then I might never kvaut to return, and that would be ?ruel to you. Don't you see?" "Then you should go," he answered iuickly. "I want to make you happy, [f I cannot, then it is better for one to suiter than two. Return to New York, md from t?at vantage ground look back on this new life. If I do not then seem fitted to make you happy I will aot complain." They were interrupted again, this Lime by Nor ;. who came in pale and troubled. "Rob, where is Matt? Sure, ie has not shown his face since sun? der. " "He's in command of the guard to light. He's not far away. Don't wor 7 about him." "Ann, dear, I wish you'd come home, t nee/1 you. Rob will sit with the sick >ne, won't you, Rob?" To this suggestion Raymond gave as? sent and in the end Ann v>>:iit away, j ? 1er demonstration unfinished-the ques- ? i don of her future still uuanswered. Nora was fairly broken. "Dear God! How long are we to be kept on the ?dge of destruction like this? Sure, and at 1 o'clock, all being quiet out? side, they went to bed. Ann was awakened from an uneasy sleep by Nora's cry to Matt: "For love of heaven, where have you been? What is that noise?" Matt's voice, rumbling in reply, bare? ly reached her ears, for a deep, tram? pling, continuous tumult grew each moment louder and at last was dis? tinguishable as the sound of horses' hoofs. Springing from her bed, she drew aside the curtain and tapered out In the clear, yellow light of the frosty dawn a regiment of mounted men was streaming up the road between the cabins. Dressing hurriedly, she went out into the sitting room just as Ray? mond came in, his face excited and exultant "Our reign of terror is over. The desperadoes are scattering like quail. The governor in a spirit of reprisal has invoked federal aid, and Colonel Wood of the Fortieth United States cavalry is about to take command of the camp." "Oh. I am so glad! Now there will be no more fighting, and you can re? store your mill." "You are right Mobs do not fight the United States army," he answered, with the pride of a potential soldier. Ohey faced each other, even at this moment, with a knowledge that the most important/matter of all remained unsettled between them, and all day and the next, while the forces of dis? order dissolved and the camp readjust? ed itself to military rule, Ann nursed her sick and brooded over her prob? lem. The second day passed slowly-even though she slept at times-and no fur? ther word ?f intimate meaning passed between them. Raymond came in from ?me to time with news of the changes in progress, but did not tell her that the state was full of praise of the part he had played in bringing peace to the camp. He shrank from doing this, for the reason that as usual, the press was extreme, loading him with compli- ' ments for his firm stand, for his influ? ence over Munro and for his powerful protest to the governor, whereas, to his mind, Matthew Kelly was the leader of the free miners. "I was only the sec? retary-the clerk,** he explained. Doian, however, brought to Ann a knowledge of the great light which had been turned suddenly on her lover's abashed figure, and the glow of pride which came to her brought a keen realization of how closely his success was interwoven with her good wishes. Hounded and brought to bay by his admirers, Raymond made a speech bluntly protesting that he was not en? titled to any credit in the matter. "I tried hard to keep out of it" he de? clared. "I'm not seeking honor of that kind." But his argument -wss in vain. His denials were called the excess of j modesty, and at a meeting of tho vari- j ons factions looking to an adjustment f he was amazed to find himself put for- j ward 8s chief arbitrator of the conten? tion, mainly by Barnett and the mayor of Valley Springs. Just at .sunset, as Ann, lingering at Louis' side, was about to cross to the Kelly cabin, Munro, wild, white and breathless, burst into the room. "Where's my gun?' he demanded. "Where's Rob?" He was a hunted man in every look, in every gesture. **My gun!" he demanded sharply and ran into the inner room. When he re? appeared his face was set in a grim smile, for in his hand dangled a shin? ing weapon. His panic was at an end. Whoso faced him now must give ac? count of himself. "Goodby, girl!" he called, and his roice was wildly tender. "Don't for? get me!" With a bound he reached Barnett's horse and rose to the saddle lust as a stern voice called "Halt!" md a blade of fire reached out of the lusk and pierced his side. Spurring his horse in a swift, rear- 3 ng circle, he flung from his right hand m answering puff of smoke, and a tall nan with a rifle in his hands dropped * it the corner of the cabin, but from his mees again took aim, and the beauti- J !ul horse went down, flinging his des- ' >erate rider over his head. 1 Horrified, frozen into immobility, inn stood in the doorway, while Mun- 1 t> shook himself free from the saddle ( md dragged himself clear of the groan- ? ng horse. Resting himself on his el- 1 x>w, with the face of a calm panther, * ie confronted a second arm M officer. * Iis right arm was useless, but his ? nind was clear, his eyes steady, and LS his new assailant approached he * hifted his weapon to his left hand ' md rolled upon his useless right arm, 1 md the bullet intended for his heart 5 vent wide then. Lifting himself with J errible effort, he fired again and put ' i bullet into the very heart of his pur- * (uer, who fell in a heap just as Ray- T nond and Barnett, followed by Kelly, * :ame rushing to the scene of combat * Raymond bent above the fallen leader. How is it, Jack? Are you hurt?" T, "Hurt? I'm shot to pieces. Raise ? ae up. There's another. Let me get ? dm." He struggled again to rise. Raymond pushed him gently to the j ? larth. "Never mind him now. You c iced help. Where's the doctor? Why I 1 Lidn't you jump the camp, as Kelly | c old you to do, Jack, old man? Why i e Lidn't you?" ! f "Hov.- could I-no horse- no gun? j 1 'rn no jack rabbit to g.> slinking into he sagebush." He raised his voice j * [uerulously. "Some o' you boys get j j ue a drink. 1 feel weak." A half dozen started, but Braide put I i glass to his lips. Munro looked at I a lim with a steely gleam in his eyes. I " 1 ought to kill you." he said slowly, 'for doing me last night." His voice j t( ose to a stern command: "Take hold h .nd ?top this blood. I can't stand this rery long. Don't yes see that?" he tj T.ded, with a note of fierce impatience n his voice. ^ At Braide's orders they took him up md carried him mto the bungalow, 11 vhere Louis lay watching, listening, ^ vith Ann close beside him trying to fi ?'? frag'*- -nd ubier_ !? The dying man suffered the doctor' examination in silence for awhile, then quietly asked: "Well, doc, what's your verdict? Do I hit the long trail?" "It looks that way, Jack," Braide re? plied, with a good deal of feeling. Munro closed h ii eyes and his face quivered. At last, when lie had regain? ed control of his voice, he said, "Ann, I want you-here." She obeyed his call, sustained by her great pity, and, kneeling at his side, asked quietly, "What can I do?" He looked at ber with wide eyes, whose expression filled her throat with aching sorrow. "I'm leaving camp on a long trip," he said quietly, "and I want you to say a good word for me. Maybe itll make it easier for me where I'm going." At these tender words Ann's fear and hesitation passed into a sort of awe. He was so piteously young, so boyish, to take that lonely Journey into the night. She took his hand in both of hers and whispered a little prayer, to which the dying man listened in? tently. At th* r-nd \lded softly: "I have faith that the great Judge will deal with you mercifully. He knows all your moti"< es as weli >is your temp? tations. Sur?'iv his forgi veness is greater than man's." "I take my chjan res." was his indom? itable reply. "I want tO ;5ve. but I'm not afraid TO die. Doctor give-nie something. 3 don' rant to go Just yet-I want a few Tonis-give me breath, ca. ft- you?" be demand sharply. Braide shook bis i'<-rd, and the dying man close-: hi? eyes, and his hands shut convul Lvely. When he opened them he could unly whisper, "Girl your ham! Ana ave her hand. He pressed il hard. You're the best-I ever met Stay . :h me. It's a dark trail-an: blazes in the green tim? ber. Good by" CHAPTER XXVI?I. IN a c iys Louis was able to be removed to rhe valley, but his re? covery wa3 slow, and Dr. Braide strongly advised against his return to the east. As a proprietor in the mine, Louis now doubly anxious to be on the ground, but being prevented from that bc called on Bob for fra? que-:*. personal reports, which the sen? ior partner v. as very glad to make. At Inst the day came when Ann de? cided to leave Louis in his care and return to h*- mother, desperately de- i termined to test her new found happi- : ness and hi-r kms, though she did not ; put it thus. j Raymond received the announcement j of her plan with octward ^uiposure. : though he said sadly: 'Now that I know more about your life in the east, j [ am not" so sure I can make yoe. hap- | py, even with a million. Fve losr -./ j ambition to be rich, for what could I ; give you. who nave had everything? ; [ am going to fe.? to my mountain. : [ can't bear to see you take the train, j ?ind I will not say goodby. i will wait is patiently as I can till you send for. ne, and if you feel that you-that I im not fitted to make you happy I prill not complain." And they parted j ?v?th only a clasp of hands. On the journey eastward .Ann had a | rreat deal of time to think, and the j ?arther she descended upon the plain he more certain it seemed that she vas leaving it al! behind-Raymond, he good Barnetts and all-and a sad ?ess which lay beyond tears seized up >n her. She felt, too, that Louis was rrowing out of her life He would ;oon be a man in the world of men. However, she approached New York >n a glorious morning in May, and the s'orth river was a glittering spread of eaping wavelets tossed into the sun ight by a brisk southwesterly wind, md her spirits rose with a bound. The morning was deliciously cool and .ery brilliant with sunlight, and as she oiled through Madison square and en ered upon the lower avenue the ghTs hroat filled with a sob of joy. The generous, good mountains had not Qerely lured her to themselves, teacb ug her to love them, they had restored ter sanity and the power to enjoy the dint of sunbeams anywhere in the vorld. She was elate, throbbing with ecovered love of life, with toe regain d joy of being young, and, best of all, he found herself looking tack each Qoment with undiminished affection o the high peaks. Into this moment of lation the thought of her mother in ruded with chilling effect. The complete lack of sympathy be ween mother and daughter dated from he day of her birth, for she had never nown maternal care. From the time he could speak paid servants and eachers guided her in feminine ways. The cold and smileless woman who ave her birth was a being of another rorld. No caresses were ever invited y the mother, and none was: ever of ered by the child. Even the compan onshlp of the gentle, impulsive father eas cut short or interdicted altogether uring melancholy periods by .ais wife's xacting demands. When Louis came the father revolt d, refusing to be forever at the whim f his wife. He gave up attendance ipon her and devoted himself to the hildren. This, Ann afterward recall d, was the beginning of her mother's j lorbid seclusion. Then came board ag school, from which she was called ' 3 receive her father's last words, and : bese admonitions, gently spoken, with sad sweetness of tone, like the dying um of a bell, she had never forgot ?n. She had been a mother ?:o Louis, < nd she was coming back now with ie consciousness of a duty well per? fumed, but as she approached the . * owering wall of the great apartment ; ] otel in which her mother made her i i orne she lost courage, and the r?solu- i J on she had made to forget their dif- | 1 trences and to confide her ;r>erplexi- ! < es died away. ' Mrs. Allard received her in ted read lg- she was forever reading useless , 1 ooks-and impassively said, "What an j 1 nearthly hour to arrive!" I 1 feeling, motlier?" slie asked tenderly. "Miserable, and Mr. Allard is away, as usual," she replied, with a bitter frown. "Your letters were very few very unsatisfactory. Why did you not return sooner?" Instantly Ann's old feeling of sullen anger and resentment resurged like a tide and threatened to bury all her good resolutions, bat she straggled with I and rose above her resentment and said ! gently: "I didn't J?tend to neglect my I duty. I wrote as rten" Her mor-b. Interrupted her as she I entered upon :;:ore extended confl j dence. "Go to your room and bathe j and get your 1 reakfast We will talk i over Louis1 .. . nary plans after? ward." The interview wida ber mother was; quite as pr. inf ul as Ann had feared., She begar bytdemandin? to know why Louis was nc, vv IUI i.-irf and when Ann re-explain- :<3 bluntly that he would not come Mrs. Allard looked at her daugh? ter in cold silence for a full minute and then said: "There is something about you that i ?on't understand. You look v ..- but Louis should come borne. Iiis t **: im a te d oesn't agree with him." "On the contrary, bis illness is due to his own impetuousness in riding up into the mountains without sufficient clothing." "What's the i meaning of this talk of his about buy ?ig \ mine?" Ann this as patiently as she rrs. Allard con? er . .i. "Ha hall do nothing of the kind,* ta broke out: "Moth- . ; , don't seem to under ! stauu. tliat 3 LES is no longer a child i and that he isf growini very difficult j to manage. 1 Ssed my oest powers to ? persuade hic. | COJ -orne and con j suit with yocSbui in -efused. Fur I therm ore, th'.1 ||<< :tor advised against j his coming just uow." I "I don't cave ^hai the doctor said. My plans ar- settled. ? am to spend the summer iii the Tyrol, and I want Louis with me. The air ?ere is better for him than the raw *vinds of that crazy mining camp. I v. :sh you would write him or telegraph him at once to come." "You are not ashing ;:.e to go with you, I hopeV" "Certainly you are geing." Ann turned white!and tense and sat for a long time in s|encc, a deep hum? ming sound in her ftrs, well knowing that the hour of rexirit had come. Her "You would have liked Robert, and 1 love him ! " voice waa hoarse with emotion when she spoke, "Mother, you must not make any more plans that include me." Mrs. Allard's eyelids opened in sur? prise. "Why not?" "Because I am to be married very soon." Mrs. Allard seemed stunned for a moment, but she recovered and asked ironically: "Are you, indeed? How very considerate of you to tell me! May I ask to whom?" "You may. His name Is Robert Ray? mond." "One of those western miners?" "Yes, a miner, but an eastern man." "Now I understand Wayne Pea? body's glum face. I infer that this Mr. Raymond is rich?" "No," replied Ann, quite simply, "he works with Ms hands among his men." "It's like you to throw yourself away. Do you thin'-: I will consent to such a piece of folly V Ann wai; coid and calm. "Fortunate? ly your consent is not required." Then the thought of how all this would sound to her lover moved her, and with tears of entreaty in her voice she cried out: "Oh, motlier, don't let's quarrel, wait till you see Robert! You cannot help but admire him-he is so big and man? ly. I came here to ask your help, your advice. I wanted to confide in you. I want your love, your sympathy." "You have it-my profound sympa? thy. But you cannot have my consent to such a foolish act" Ann rose, wounded, bleeding, but no longer in a mood for confidences or en? treaties. "Further controversy is use? less, mother. I have given my future into Robert's hands." Once mere in her room, she caught up a little framed portrait from her desk. "Ot., my beautiful, poetic, dear father, now I know why you loved the mountains and why you sickened and ?led here in the city! You gave me a precious heritage, and I have only just found it I will live as you would have me live, dear." She touched the picture to her lips as a si*n of her dedication >f herself to her new life. "You would \ iave liked Robert and I love him!" With bosom heaving with passionate , resolution she hurried to her desk and ] wrote a telegram in big, strong tetters, is if to make an imperishable record: -. ? ? corae for rc* I ara waiting, j , HESPSR 1 j ?ES Em SOMETIME. Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned, And Sun and stars forevermore have set, The things whieh our weak judge? ments here have spurned, The things over which we grieved with lashes wet Will flash before us, out of life's dark night, As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans were right, And how what seemed reproof was love most true. And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh, God's plans go on as best for you and me; How, when we called, He heeded not our cry, Because His wisdom to the end could see. And even as wise parents disallow Too much of sweet to craving baby? hood, So, God, perhaps, is keeping from us now Life's sweetest 'things because it seemeth good. And if, sometime, co-mingled with life's wine, V?'e find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink, Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine Pours out the portion for our lips to drink. And if some one we love is lying low, Where human kisses cannot reach j her face, j Oh, do not blame the loving Father so But bear your sorrow with obedient grace. And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath Is not the sweetest grift God sends His friend, And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death. Conceals the fairest boon His love can send. If we could push ajar, and all God's workings see, We could interpret all this doubt and strife And for each mystery could find a Key. I j Dut not today, then be content, poor heart! j Ood's plans like lillies pure and white unfold, We must not tear the close shut >aves apart; Time will reveal the calaxes of gold, And if, through patient toil, we reach th ^ land Where tired feet, with sandals loose may rest, When we shall clearly know and un? derstand, I think that we will say, "God knew the bestJ" -May Riley Smith. How's This? We offer One Hundred Dollars Re? ward for any case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, O. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, and believe him perfectly honorable in all business transactions and finan? cially able to carry out any obliga, tions made by his firm. Walding, Kinnan & Marvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken inter? nally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system Testimonials sent free. Price 75c. per bottle. SMd by ail druggists Take Hall's Family Pills for con? stipation. 8 10-lm It is estimated that nearly 4,000 acres of cedar trees are cut down an? nually to provide the material for lead pencils. A Badly Burned Girl. .or boy, man or woman, is quickly out of pain if Bucklen's Arnica Salve is applied promptly. G. J. Welch, of Tekonsha, Mich., says: 'T use it in my family for cuts, sores and all skin injuries, and find it per? fect." Quickest pile cure known. Best heaiin? salve made. 25c at Sibert's Drug Store. Do You Enjov What You Eat ? Yea can eat whatever and whenever you like if you take Kodol. " By the use of this rem e..iy disordered digestion and diseased sto::.?:.as are so completely restored to health, and the full performance of their functions naturally, that such foods as would tie one into a double-bow-knot are eaten without even a "rumbling" and with a posi? tive pleasure and enjoyment. And what is more - these foods are assimilated and transformed into the kind of nutriment that Is appropriated by the blood and tissues. Kodol is the only digestant or combination of digestants that will digest all classes of food. In addition to this fact, ii contains, in assimilative form, the greatest known tonio and reconstructive properties. Kodol cures indigestion, dyspepsia and al) disorders arising therefrom. Kodol Digests What You Eat Makes the Stomach Sweet. Bottles onlv. Rfenior ci,. ?i 00 M*i>e 7% ftset th? trial sir?, :? ?? ' SC v-S:iTS. 5>.'<:?Mre*i by E. C. D' ?AN ' r St CO., C'-'r&jJO, XEW YORK FASHIONS. Xew York, N. Y., October 12.-A search through attics or long for treasurers that can'now be utilized, as almost every material except crepon is in demand. In silks, plain, dotted, striped, figured, changeable, checked or plaided, all are stylish and the greater variety of colors combined, the more desirable. If not enough for a waist, straps across the shoul? ders (in bretelle or suspender style) over a thin waist, such as dotted net, plain net, sheer embroidery or lace, is" the very latest idea for evening waists. An epaulet falling on the arm may be made in any way that looks well, and a belt, of similar material keeps the straps and epaul?t in proper position. Black ribbon velvet as if in revenge for long neglect, trims dresses, waists, neck fixtures, and for the purpose mentioned just above, is singularly attractive-the straps connected by black silk cord, or very narrow vel? vet ribbon. Colored velvet is equally desirable for this purpose. Black lace, with a handsome edge over silk dotted net falls in with the still pre? vailing fancy for black and white. Batiste embroidery threatens to rival .lace, and as elbow sleeves are still universal with dressy waists, the quantity of material required is con-, sjderably lessened. Ribbon of every' hue and pattern may trim a hat, form wristlets and bows on elbow sleeves, or if flowered, make a high belt?, or a bit of plaided silk cut a moderate width and hemmed is the newest necktie. Braid and passementerie of all de? scriptions are in style, and a short suit jacket is often trimmed with braid, while the skirc is plain. Colored embroidery (machine made) in a nar? row band on the front of^a sombre * v waist or jacket gives the garment an entirely different air, and clusters or/ rows of small gilt, enameled or steel bifttons lend efficient aid. Plaided braid is a novelty, but should be used with discretion, as is the case with gilt braid, as an overplus of either re? sults in a gaudy effect Folds of anoth? er material are often seen on Expen? sive costumes, and of lace there is no limit to its variety. Cloaks are long and show no radical diiference from those of last winter. Much braiding or passementerie trim? ming is used in the back, and some? times lac?*, but braiding is newer, therefore more popular. They are in very light tan, white cr gray; for ,.r!..??. persoins! or may be used for ; veoing by any one., but unquestiona? bly m. geuoral adoption ol' the tour? ists c/'ixi ??nd the jaunty ?ult jacket have tlr-own the long beaver cloak somewhat into the shade. Rainy-day cloaks are rubber lined silk of the brighetst hues-gay plaids, or crim? son or blue silk, with large brass hut? tons down the front A skillful combination of color is now the ambition of the designer in all branches of the sartorial art, and millinery oftentimes shows the inter? mixture Of six or seven shades. It is not unusual to see four clusters of grapes, each of a different hue on a colored beaver, or blue ribbon and pink and crimson roses on a. black hat Just now it seems as if the large hat had carried the day, but they will at ill events be foremost for dressy wear Dh all high class millinery houses, out 3f ton hats, eight are large. That is an important fact, as the large' ones ire more expensive. Chicken feathers now replace the peacock plum? age of the Spring, and is . usually absurd. Massed at the side of a hand? some hat, they are termed "stylish." Lucy Carter. How's This? We offer One Hundred Dollars R - ivard for any case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh ^ure. F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, 3. We, the undersigned, have known P. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, md believe him perfectly honorable n all business transactions and finan? cially able to carry out any obliga. ;ions made by his firm. Walding, Kinnan &. Marvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O. Hali's Catarrh Cure is taken inter lally, acting directly upon the bloody md mucous surfaces of the system. festi mo niais sent free. Price 75c: per )ottie. Sold by all druggisti. Take Hall's Family Pills for con? stipation. S 10-im ?arri 11-------? Sour Stomach No appetite, loss of strength, nervous less, headache, constipation, bad breath, jeneral debility, sour risings, and catarrh >f the stomach are all due to indigestion, Codol cures indigestion. This new discov* try represents the natural juices of dige> ion as they exist in a healthy stomach? :orr Dined with the greatest known tonia md reconstructive properties. Kodol Dys? pepsia Cure does not only cure indigestion md dyspepsia, but this famous remedy :ures ali stomach troubles by cleansing, purifying, sweetening and strengthening he mucous membranes lining the stomach* Mr. S. S. Ball, ot Ravenswood. W. Va., saysr ' I was troubled with sour stomach for twenty years. Codol cured rr.-a and we are now using it in m?? or baby." Kodol Digests What You Eat Joules oniy. SI.00 Size holding 2H times the trial | size, which sells fer 50 cents. >repared by E. C. DeWITT & CO.. CHICAGO? Tor by all T> uggisrs. XEW YORK FASHIONS. Xew York, N. Y., October 12.-A search through attics or long for treasurers that can'now be utilized, as almost every material except crepon is in demand. In silks, plain, dotted, striped, figured, changeable, checked or plaided, all are stylish and the greater variety of colors combined, the more desirable. If not enough for a waist, straps across the shoul? ders (in bretelle or suspender style) over a thin waist, such as dotted net, plain net, sheer embroidery or lace, is" the very latest idea for evening waists. An epaulet falling on the arm may be made in any way that looks well, and a belt, of similar material keeps the straps and epaul?t in proper position. Black ribbon velvet as if in revenge for long neglect, trims dresses, waists, neck fixtures, and for the purpose mentioned just above, is singularly attractive-the straps connected by black silk cord, or very narrow vel? vet ribbon. Colored velvet is equally desirable for this purpose. Black lace, with a handsome edge over silk dotted net falls in with the still pre? vailing fancy for black and white. Batiste embroidery threatens to rival .lace, and as elbow sleeves are still universal with dressy waists, the quantity of material required is con-, sjderably lessened. Ribbon of every' hue and pattern may trim a hat, form wristlets and bows on elbow sleeves, or if flowered, make a high belt?, or a bit of plaided silk cut a moderate width and hemmed is the newest necktie. Braid and passementerie of all de? scriptions are in style, and a short suit jacket is often trimmed with braid, while the skirc is plain. Colored embroidery (machine made) in a nar? row band on the front of^a sombre * v waist or jacket gives the garment an entirely different air, and clusters or/ rows of small gilt, enameled or steel bifttons lend efficient aid. Plaided braid is a novelty, but should be used with discretion, as is the case with gilt braid, as an overplus of either re? sults in a gaudy effect Folds of anoth? er material are often seen on Expen? sive costumes, and of lace there is no limit to its variety. Cloaks are long and show no radical diiference from those of last winter. Much braiding or passementerie trim? ming is used in the back, and some? times lac?*, but braiding is newer, therefore more popular. They are in very light tan, white cr gray; for ,.r!..??. persoins! or may be used for ; veoing by any one., but unquestiona? bly m. geuoral adoption ol' the tour? ists c/'ixi ??nd the jaunty ?ult jacket have tlr-own the long beaver cloak somewhat into the shade. Rainy-day cloaks are rubber lined silk of the brighetst hues-gay plaids, or crim? son or blue silk, with large brass hut? tons down the front A skillful combination of color is now the ambition of the designer in all branches of the sartorial art, and millinery oftentimes shows the inter? mixture Of six or seven shades. It is not unusual to see four clusters of grapes, each of a different hue on a colored beaver, or blue ribbon and pink and crimson roses on a. black hat Just now it seems as if the large hat had carried the day, but they will at ill events be foremost for dressy wear Dh all high class millinery houses, out 3f ton hats, eight are large. That is an important fact, as the large' ones ire more expensive. Chicken feathers now replace the peacock plum? age of the Spring, and is . usually absurd. Massed at the side of a hand? some hat, they are termed "stylish." Lucy Carter. How's This? We offer One Hundred Dollars R - ivard for any case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh ^ure. F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, 3. We, the undersigned, have known P. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, md believe him perfectly honorable n all business transactions and finan? cially able to carry out any obliga. ;ions made by his firm. Walding, Kinnan &. Marvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O. Hali's Catarrh Cure is taken inter lally, acting directly upon the bloody md mucous surfaces of the system. festi mo niais sent free. Price 75c: per )ottie. Sold by all druggisti. Take Hall's Family Pills for con? stipation. S 10-im ?arri 11-------? Sour Stomach No appetite, loss of strength, nervous less, headache, constipation, bad breath, jeneral debility, sour risings, and catarrh >f the stomach are all due to indigestion, Codol cures indigestion. This new discov* try represents the natural juices of dige> ion as they exist in a healthy stomach? :orr Dined with the greatest known tonia md reconstructive properties. Kodol Dys? pepsia Cure does not only cure indigestion md dyspepsia, but this famous remedy :ures ali stomach troubles by cleansing, purifying, sweetening and strengthening he mucous membranes lining the stomach* Mr. S. S. Ball, ot Ravenswood. W. Va., saysr ' I was troubled with sour stomach for twenty years. Codol cured rr.-a and we are now using it in m?? or baby." Kodol Digests What You Eat Joules oniy. SI.00 Size holding 2H times the trial | size, which sells fer 50 cents. >repared by E. C. DeWITT & CO.. CHICAGO? Tor by all T> uggisrs.