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“The Big4 Pure-wool Nukets 64x84 The Sherlock Olgans. .-?§.‘Ii“?£"ii‘m’f~‘£ Sewing Machines. Malone Separators. ‘ o. CAMPBELL, Agent. DURHAM,ONT. IMPLEMENTS Frost Wood Watchmakur. Jeweller. Optician. DURHAM, ONT. Reliable Watches â€" THE Gnocnn â€" DURHAM, -â€" ON'. of all kinda. They’re than fresh. Teas a specialty here. Try them. TRY US FOR GROCERIES CALDER BLOCK. 110 80118 Cheap. We also any the but Blankets that money can buy. and Woollen Yarn in all grades and colors. W WU- V'wvâ€"vv we ere premrd to sell the richt kind of clothing to meet the con- ditions. We heve an extre line of Bony Tweed: for uniting, ; full line of Reedy-made suite. e let u- wrtment of Heavy Woollen e and Mitts. etc.. etc. Just the things yuu went outside in the cold, The cold watbqr is eomjnq on .394 This Sam’s Pure Honey. FOR THE COLD WEATHER. CLOTHING Call or Produce taken In Exchange. A. GORDON . l1. BEAN The very stt Watches manufactured are show“ in our assortment. The does not signify high prives. To 'vVatch pur Chasers we personally guarantee satisfaction in the fullest senaa of thy trrm Cu“ in. of all kinds for the Farm, the Home and the Dairy. CI." and see uh. S. SCOTT BLANKETS AGENCY. ONTARIO. $3,593 pgir 8‘ .25 eacl' 31.40 one: 82 2:0 earl] 83 (X) 68c}. Wrepped in a ehewi of Canton silk. the heirloom of a grandmother whose father once sailed from Salem to the In- die; the widow sank hook into her oom- i'ortebie omoheir with a deep sigh of content" She eioeed her eyee from sheet m while Jem flpteed ehoui the reg. “myhigp to right". and pg- Jem closed the door, set his gun in a corner and looked around for the place in which the widow kept her stores. The dressers ranged against the wall were bright with old-fashioned pewter platters and china. Here he found a caddy of tea, and then set about making a fire. A huge fireplace yawned at one side of the room,hung with a black iron crane from which suspended a tea kettle. The wood pile was outside, near the back door, and brushing off the snow, Jem soon had some dry wood with which he made a roaring blaze. It was not long before he had the satisfaction of seeing the kettle send forth a volume of steam, and a few minutes later be tapped at the bedroom door with a tray, on it a tempting cup of tea and two well buttered slices of bread. The bread had been intended for his luncheon, the gift of the 'farmer’e wife who paid for his services in “keep.”â€" New England wages. “No,” with a feeble emlle. ' “Well. if you’ll let me try, I’ll make a cup of tea.”- “Come in.” This feeble voice struggled with a cough, than: “Yes, I’m so glad you’ve come. I was taken faint yesterday and had just strength enough to crawl to hf"?! I’erhapsâ€"” “Its meâ€"Jem Hastings. I’ve come to see If you need anybody.” eat?” He rapped loudly and then put'hls ear down to the key-hole, listening lntently. At first there was no response. Then he thought he heard a faint, quaverlng voice. He strode down to the house and knocked. There was no response. Only the crow in the oak tree was disturbed by the unwouted noise and flew away, with a caw of alarm. A second knock startled the fowl in the barnyard, who greeted him with a suppressed chuckle; but there was no answer from within. “Guess I might's well goin.” He pushed open the crazy door and entered the room which served as kitchen and sit« ting room. all in one. A table stood in the center of it, covered with a snowy cloth and set as if for supper. A tall clock ticked in the corner under the stairs. but its rhythmic beats only seem- ed to make the silence audible. “It seems kinder creepy, that’s a fact. Hope there ain’t nothin’ happened to her. Wonder where she is! P’raps she’s asleep.” “House looks like mother’s used to after she got so she couldn’t get about.” soliloquized the boy, staring at the smokeless chimney. “I'll bet there ain't been nobody near the widder in a week. and I’ll bet, while I’m a bettin’, that she needs somebody. Guess I’ll find out what’s the matter.” New England, always hard to her chil- dren, had taken from this boy the home and mother that make Thanksgiving, even as is had taken from the widow all but the wretched framework of what. had once been home. It was always a difficult spot to reach in winter, when the drifting snows piled high their white billows against the low- eaved structure and hid the windows from the outer world. But in summer it was a delight, this moss-brown dwelling beneath the calm. and at one time had been a home around whose hearthetone had gathered sons and daughters. Now it was desolate. The passing stranger would have but added it to the category of deserted farms. No sign of life was visible this bright Thanksgiving morn- ing; from its wide, paneled chimney no curl of smoke invaded the crisp and frosty air; the light fall of snow that had covered the ground the night before showed no trace of footstep leading from the weather-beaten door. And yet there was a stir of life in the farm yard, in the hollow among the trees, where the old barn tottered, ready for its fall. There a flock of fowl and turkeys wan- dered disconsolately about. In the adja- cent stall au old horse stamped impa- tiently for his breakfast,and a forlorn cow chafed restlessly at her stanchions. Ex- cept for these, the old farm was as silent as when its first owner carved it from the virgin wilderness. A rustling of the shrubbery that fringed the tall, stifl- ranked pines on the hill beyond the barn told that a visitor was coming to Lonely Farm. A human head appeared insight. It was crowned by a woolen cap, from beneath which peered a pair of black, bright eyes. Their owner took off the cap and mapped his brow. He was a rugged country lad of 18, well knit and sturdy, with a pair of ruddy cheeks, white teeth and lips rosy, but with a droop of sadness. One of the most picturesque spots of earth, and right in the center of it. crowning a rounded knoll, surrounded with stalwart oaks and butternuts,squat- ted the house of its owner. The Widow Wilson’s farm had seen better and more prosperous days. and now was traveling backward. It began at the top of Brindle Hill, where it was bounded by the county road, and strag- gled down to the lake shore, its hundred acres or so wandering over hills and dip- ping into hollows, until they terminated at the bay, with its rim of white and glistening sand. THANKSGIVING FOR TWO. “What, an’ ion aim: had nothin’ to A THANKSGIVING OF THE PAST. An old time, rumbling termhouee, set For heck men; the trees, Abroad wolk leading up to it, Adoorwhleh opeswitheese. A merry welcome from s large And ever growing bond. The slow and solemn service, 10:! By father’s trembling voice, And hymns which stir the soul and make The wesry heart rejoice. The testsl hosrd round which we meet In joyous, hsppy throng, The stories of the year just put. The jest and lsugh and song, The glorious old fireplace, filled With crackling, glowing home, The roasted apples, cider, nuts- Do others taste the same?â€" The quiet nook upon the stairs, ‘Vith only room for two, The downcast eyes. the sweet, soft voice That opened heav’n to youâ€" Did ever modern Thanksgiving Contain such joy and bliss? Can theater or footlmll game Bring happiness like this? ._ _____ “That’s so, ma’am. It would have been a great mistake to leave the old place. Why, there ain’t a prettler view in all the world than this from your front door. If there la, then it ls right there. down In the woods where the great trees meet overhead, the brook einge a eoft eong of rest and the fern- ccvered henke stretch down to the pond. I nevc traveled any yet, but I don’t want to; thie enite me” And hereturned to hie work with a cheery whietle that eent a thrill of eetietactlon through the widow’s heart. A wonderful change had heen effected by the time another year had rolled another Thankegiving into theealendar. ThemtettheOld helee “I never thought I should take each comfort here,” she said. “Before you came I was more than willing to give up the farm and go away. But now, Jem, I want to live here the rest of my life, I would not leave it for the world." As the spring opened he was soon afield, continuing the good work of im- provement, and “planting time” found the farm with more and earlier labor performed than it had ever before ex- perienced. In front of the western door he threw out a platform, protected by a lattice work covering, and here the widow passed all the spare time she could snatch from her indoor duties. It had never occurred to any one before that farm work might be made attractive. The widow had only looked upon the beauties of her farm around her through the kitchen window, or during a hasty trip to the well or farm yard. The lat- ticed porch was a revelation to her, and a haven of rest where she sat and mused during the long twilight of summer. And so this strange partnership began. The first winter Jem spent in thinning out the superfluous wood in the neglected lots, stacking up behind the house enough fuel to satisfy even the cravings of that yawning fire-place for years to come. and selling to the saw mill on the pond timber for shipping that came to quite 8500. The boy hesitated, amazed at his au- dacity; but the widow nodded her head and smiled approval. “That is true Jam. The farm is running down for the lack of some one to oversee out of doors. So, then, it is a bargain.” “I could earn my board in saving things that’s goin’ to waste. When I came through your wood-lot this mornln’ I noticed oords an’ cords of dead trees that ought to be out an’ made firewood of. An’ as for timber. there’s more’n a hundred dollars’ wuth there that’ll all be splled if lt ain’t out 311’ sold pretty soon.” It was out at last, the boy’s yearning for something as his own and the chance he saw upon the widow’s term. “I could fix things up,” he went on eagerly “end make the chickens lay eggs and the cow give milk andâ€"andâ€"” Jam stopped, but the widow’s re- spectful attention led him on. “I could, ma’am, it I could come asâ€" “ partner!” ain’t done nothln’ great; no more’n you’d have done for me, I’ll bet. I ain’t enjoyed a dinner so. myself, sence I can remember. I wish I could jest stay here all the time.’ ’ A new light came into the woman’s taded gray eyes, born of a thought that had been struggling for expression for an hour or more. “And why can’t. you stay, Jam?" GUESS I’LL FIND OUT “'IIAT’S THE MATTER. Jem turned to the window to hide some tears that would periet in squeez- ing themselves out of his eyes. “I wish she wouldn’t. be so sentimental.” said he to himself, quite wrathfully. But to the widow he said: “Why, ma’am. I “may God_ bless ivou! And to think how the dreadful, gloomy morning bu been turned to such bright sunshine by yonr coming!” “It is the happiest Thanksgiving din- ner I have had in many a year, my boy.” she said to him, as he cleared away she dishes and brought out the dessert, of fragrant; quince preserves. A snowy oioth over a round table. with two seats opposite each other, is always an inspiriting sight, and when topped by a steaming brown turkey, with all the “fixings” of a turkey dinner, the feast is one to melt hearts harder than that of the lonely widow and the home- sick New England lad. Some sticks of hard wood were soon piled on the fire, and by the time Sir Turkey was ready for the oven the widow had peeled the vegetables and dropped them into the mysterious depths of the steaming kettles, Jem looking on with glowing but bashful appreciation. The widow urged no objections, and both fascinated at the prospect of a Thanksgiving dinner with themselves as host and hostess, the boy trudged out to the barn. “What! Really Thanklaglvlng Day? It’s the first time I’ve forgotten ltâ€"ever. I must be growing old.” Jem grew bolder. “There's a turkey out lo the barnyard. He aln’t very fat, but if you say so I'll help you fix a turkey dinner.” Through the narrow-paned southern window an advance guard of the outside sunbeams eame streaming in, one of them lighting the grey hair of the woman with a silvery halo. Jam thought he had never seen a woman who ape peared so “ladylike” and how young she looked. He paused a moment to regard her and she opened her eyes. He retreated in contusion a step or two. the red blush staining his honest open face. “You’ve made me very happy Jem; very thankful.” Thanksglvln ’. ’ ’ l'ohomthmwumumohdfit, but ho Ind hm: that than night In ”nothing in tho 011:: and In the our boards, for the widow wu known In the townnhlp to have been a “good wider” In her days of amuenoa. “ Well, , I’m glad of it. It’o The importance of the Thanksgiving festival lies in the fact that on this day the people of Canada are called upon to attribute their happiness. peace and pros- perity; not to the genuis of Washington or Brock, nor to the victories of Wolfe or the astute statesmanship of this or that great president or politician, but to the love and mercy and power of Al- mighty God. We regard the yearly ap- pointent of a day of national thanksgiv- ing as the happiest, the most dignified, the best method that a country could re- sort to in vlndicating itself from the charge of irreligicn and placing itself on the same plane with other Christian nationalities. â€"Church man. Share Your Joy With Others. The pilgrim colonists shared the first Thanksgiving feast with Massasoit and his 90 Indians. We should invite to ours not only those near and dear to us, but some of those others who would eat it in solitude it we did not remember them. To many minds this will seem an almost unjustifiable sacrifice of the oozi- ness of the family party. The blessedness of giving and of giving something more than of our material substance will com- pensate for it. Those who have never known what it is to be alone in the world or even temporarily divided from benefit would not give a tithe of the pleasure that is felt when its doors on- close to them.â€"Exohange. The first great American Thanksgiving Day was in 1784 tor the declaration of peace. There was one more national Thankegiving in 1789, and no other till 1869, when President Lincoln issued a national proclamation for a day of Thanksgiving. Since that time the pres- ident has issued an annual proclamation. â€"St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Tho first national 'Thanksglvin‘fz hp??- olamatlona were appointed by Congress dngng Atho Revolutionary war. The New England Thinksgivlng dated from 1632, when the Massachusetts Bay oohgny gotnapagt a Sulfa; thgnkgiving. There have been but two English Thanksgivings in this century. One was on Feb. 27,.1872, for the recovery of the Prince of Wales from illness; the other, June 21, 1887, for the Queen’s Jubilee. “I s’poee you know the widder‘e left the farm to you? No? Sho! It’s mighty strange she didn’t tell you. She made her will more’n a year ago, and you’re her only heir. She seemed to set a lot by you, the widder did, and (looking around approvingly over the snow-covered fields) I d’no’s I blame her. The last four years hev been the peacefulest of her life, and she’s left her peace with you. for sure!” Early Thanksgiving Days. The first recorded Thanksgiving was the Hebrew feast of the tubal-uncles. Three days later, as the neighbors struggled back from the little cemteery on the hill, Squire Lothrop drew Jem apart. A Warning to tho Gobbler. O Gobbler Turk, 0 Gobbler Turk, Why hold your hood .0 Mg!!! Ere long thorn wlll be awful work- Tho an ond hour or. nigh. Next morning Jem knocked again at the Widow Wilson’s door, just as be had done on that lonely Thanksgiving Day four years ago. This time not even a feeble voice answered his repeated calls. “Mother!” cried Jem. taking the feeble hands together and kissing them ten- derly, “my darling mother, dearest friend I ever had.” She returned his loving glance, linger- lngly, gratefully, as they led her to the door of her room. “You’re my childfen now, both of you,” she said. “Call me mother, just- once, Jam and Susie.” Uunder branches of autumn leaves from the last redding trees, Jexn and Susie promised all things of the simple marriage service. Then came the coun- try wedding supper. When the last guest had gone, driven away In the farm wagons that had clus- tered around the floor all afternoon, the widow turned to Jam and Susie, sitting bashfully in the firefight. And so it came to pass that there was a wedding next Thanksgiving in the lit- tle cottage now pretty with nuns and cheery within. Susie was glad of so pleasant a place for the troth which she was to plight with Jem, while he, lucky fellow though he was, could not take time to travel to Susie’s home, far away over the rough, hilly roads. “A wife e a good thing,” he soliloquized to the widow the evening before his marriage, “but there’s cowe to be looked after and hens to be fedâ€"more'n you could ’tend to alone ” “That’s so, Jam,” said the widow, smiling brightly, “and thanks to you for it all. ” He never mentioned his daring specu- lation, not even to the widow; but her eyes, though growing dim, were acute enough to penetrate his honest soul. His whole life lay centered in the farm, which had become as essential to it al- most as the air he breathed. But now there must be young life there. A hair of brown eyes persisted in dancing before his face. in woodpile. in field, in garden. But it is doubtful if Jem had ever given that a thought. So happy and con- tent was he that the merely material conditions of his life had never troubled his consciousness. Only one thing troubled his thoughts of late. He was deeply stirred by the soft brown eyes of pretty Susie Jones, a chorister in the church; Susie, who lived as he had done, with friends for board and keep, another of New England’s orphans. Thus the seasons succeeded one another with their measure of content. Each found the wi w more and more dependent upon her sta wart helper. She clung to him as she might have clung to, the son of whom she had been deprived in the springtime of her witehood. As her tot. tering footsteps were supported down the aisle of the village church on a Sunday few of the congregation knew that the handsome young man who watched over her so assiduously was not in tact her own son. Those who were cognizant ot the relations between the two, shook their heads knowingly, saying to them- selves and to each other “Lucky, hoy, that; stepped right into the farm just as the old lady was about to leave it. He knows the side of his bread that has the butter on it.” the work, assisted by a yoke of big and handsome oxen. The solitary cow now had plenty of company and frisky calves gemboiied shout her in the summer tune. There was no longer nny doubt as to the availability of any of the fat gob- blers for‘e Thanksgiving dinner. no loam locked; the barn Ind been mind from it: Attitude of deep dojoouon. Ind m up. was crowds . to umsung with by an: min. l‘ho old nurse upon: his days chiefly in the pastor; while a younger und mom vixcrous animal did Important to 0m- Festival. HANOVER. MONEY TO LOAN at. low rates DEBTS COLLECTED â€" Wamms DRAWN. All kinds of “ Square Deals ” negot- iated; everything confidential. Busi- ness established 1884. BESIDES ABOVE I have other lands in Ontario and North West for sale or exchange and CAN SELL YOU! FARM if you want to sellâ€"no chuge if no sale. 100 ACRES in Bentinckâ€"Crawford P O.â€"good farmâ€"owner invalid and eager to sell. 50 ACRES in Egremontâ€"near Hol- steinâ€"fine 50-eell cheap or trade {or larger farm. 1 ACREâ€"Durhamâ€"neer the Cement Works. The Hanover Conveyancer. Offers the Following : VILLAGE BLACKSMITH BUSINEss~No oppositionâ€"Splendid trade done â€"snap for good man. 100 ACRES near Allan Parkâ€"Fair land -good timber-cheap. 200 ACRES 1n a splendid settlementâ€" 100 Normanbyâ€" -owner sickâ€"bargain offered. ACRES in Egremontâ€"about 65 acres cleared. hardwood and swamp timber, good buildings. good soil. orchard. and well located. price 83200 \Vill ac. cent. as low as 8500 down and allow balance to run at 47°. fm Bargains Head Ihis! Take Care of Your Horses Feet ..... I BEG LEAVE TO INFORM )[Y CUB- 1‘OMERS .nd the public in general flat I am prepared to fumlsh NEW PUMPS AND REPAIRS. DRILL CURB, Ric-CURB, PRESSCUBB WELLS. Allopdqrg ukonfit the old cun- ALL Won: GUARANTEED at “Live and let live” Pawns. Pumps. â€"v 7â€". v.- -‘- nest McGowan'd_'fiflilfiâ€"v}fll be promptly 3t tandod to. The Hanover Con veyuncer. H. H. MILLER. H. H. MILLER. in levelling and balanc- ing your horse’s foot. I have the Scientific Horse FOOt Leveller which is the latest and best contrivauce for that purpose and will guarantee satisfaction. W. GUTHRIE. '0 MORE GUESS WORK, GEORGE WHITHORE. The Blacksmith. ONTARIO. Feed, Potatoes, Windsor Salt: Oatmeal, Commeal, Field and Garden Seeds. Groceries, Teas, Sugars, Coffees, Spices, Tobaccos. The People’s Grocery _V_Ve 9190 handle all kinds of DURHAM BAKERY. SHOE DRESSINGS. Plenty on bond yet. Hove you tried " Wernnpnoor Dunmx ” to keep water out of your boote? The kind we eel! ie just the thing, at 5c, 10c end 25c. Custom Work and Repeiring receive “ prompt” attention here elwnye. Ogilvy’s . . Best Flour an utter 3 ohm of your crude. uud hon u good supply of Boob uud Shoes for 311 clans. Moo Rubbon, Rubber Boon. Trunks, Valium Club Bugs sud Telescope». Max‘s Husâ€"lined sud unlined... Woman's GAUNrLurs. Max’s Gwvssâ€"â€"Kid or Mocha The Down-town Shoemaket. . W. WATSON In FLOUR. we bundle the Listowol. Hunt’s Mami- tobn. sud McGowan-fl â€" TERMS CASH. A cal-load just received and kept for sale at the Choice Bread andCon- fections constantly on hand. and delivered to all parts of town daily. -- TRY-- PROPRIETOR. . McIlaith Boots MoGowml'. -ANDâ€" -. ‘ 1 ‘A '3'»- M