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e Private as long been men that a it was gzood ty, where be man of 1874. ment _ created & similar dis wed on him in « Majesty issued bsolutely forbidâ€" ent of privates prosecution and of those guilty f Derby. Mr. f"no-r of the Law anada,. and & University. Poâ€" Mormer. ansd in nt t terms for asâ€" e have been 8O eants for abase _ the past three ut two bundred k ‘The adminisâ€" y is niaking the efforts to stop which socialist a three hours‘ richsatag in the reply of General e following day his place as Minâ€" ed in law from Rehool of the | 1867, when he Bar. Aince that active practice tillerymen . were nal Who t, of New York . _ He graduatâ€" milton College, ere his father, any years proâ€" s. _ He taught N. Y., Academy, men that a litâ€" t was gocd for ivated manhood ror never sharâ€" r countenanced ised in nearly : Majesty issued solutely forbidâ€" nt of privates xt Lodge Orn Turner STONE .J + *% CAAA XÂ¥ ..A p@>. n l‘)‘fiuu,â€" o ralh 1. *# ~ FICERS. I Ne alt masdp «,,J”"WW % 7e alo mudl Sfend, buk the Horff; â€" He was ap tribunal Juaiy the late Mr. died in Lonâ€" bt from in stamps 0o M OI nay take o hare rgnally but in SPOkane, He was schoole Ire ~AIze, of @rmaAâ€" u blioan met in addg ‘retary resign= ity x \Ur He Har esP Mr. he he t ut d L \I &A baby‘s temper depends upon how ho feels. If ailing he will be cross, worry the mother and annoy everyâ€" Bbxly in the house ; if feeling well he will be bright, active and happy. It is easy to keep your baby feeling good by profiting by the experience ol mothers who give their little ones Buby‘s Own Tablets. One of these mothers, Mrs. C. W. Shore, Castleâ€" ton, Ont.. says: "Our child, eight months old, has always been trouâ€" bl«1 with indigestion. We had mediâ€" tine from two doctors and tried other remedies without benefit. I then sent for a box of Baby‘s Own Tablets and found them just what was required. The child is now all right and is doing well." 6 Indigestion, â€" colic, constipation, diarrhoea, simple fevers, in fact all the minor ailments of little ones are tured by Baby‘s Own Tablets. They always do good and cannot possibly «o harm, and may be givea to the youngest infant with perfect safety. fold by druggists or direot b{mall. at 25c a bor. by addressing the Dr. & 20c a boxr, by aAddre Williams‘ Medicine Co. "Well ?" * "Well, he doesn‘t. He‘s been with him for years. No one leaves his lordshtp‘s service unless he‘s obligâ€" «1. Strange that, for a man who‘s ziven to stabbing in the back, isn‘t it?" Bbe put in, sarcastically. "The only thing he remembers is that at one time some years back â€" the marquis gave him a long holiday, awmd said he was going to travel. TBe valet thinks his lordship went abruad, but he might have gone to (Glengowrie, the place in Scotland, CGerald Locke pricked up his ears. Evorything, the smallest detail of th» life of the man he had underâ€" taken to save from a shameful death, was of moment to him. _ "Hush!" said Gerald, glancing at the windows warningly, for Inâ€" gram‘s voice had grown terribly disâ€" tioot in his indignation. "You know nothing of it?" he askod, earnestly. "If soâ€"but I need not tell you how important it is that I should â€"know of anything, howevrer apparently trivial, which migcht throw a ligbht on the dark "I doun‘t know. No ona knows" said Ingram, "Not even the valet, I‘ve gone so far as to ask~him if h> had ever heard of anything hapâ€" ‘â€"ning to the marquis that might 1;» made him so quiet and gloomy ike," x certaioly." "lHope so ! exclaimed Ingram. Well! and he swore again, "if anyâ€" tiing happens to the marquis, Mr. Locke, there will be two murders inâ€" stead of one!" "Most dreadiul case, Mr. Locke," he sald gloomily. _ "I can‘t believe yet that it‘s trueâ€"I mean, sir, that anyâ€" thing of the kind has happened." bo was nearly always sad and abâ€" sontâ€"minded." 4 Gerald Locke looked up. 1, "Why ?" he asked. Wnn *4 tog Ingram shook his head. "I can‘t say, sir. No ons knows, Thore was something in his past lif~â€"up there in London most like â€"which seemed, to change and alâ€" tor him. Haunted him, one might say. "It is hard to believe, yes," assentâ€" «1 Gerald, looking at the ground that ho man might not see his despondâ€" Dcy, "It i& indeed, Mr. Locke. To think hat the marquisâ€"one of the highest the land, sirâ€"sahould be lying in ison charged with murder! Of urse I know he is innocent, but it‘s : alsgrace ol being suspected of a crime, to say nothing of being prison, that knocks me over. Just ‘k of such a noble, warmâ€"hearted = being accused of such a dreadful d. Why, look at his friendship for signor ! Do you think that a man o would saddle himsel{ for life i. a poor blind manâ€"and you know w â€" attentive, and gentle, â€" and vughtful he is with himâ€"is the kind man to stab a fellow creature in + back ? _ Oh !"â€"and Mr. Ingram irsl out with a passionate oathâ€" it {rives me mad to hear people ik tmout it. But it will all come ight, Mr. Locke!" And he looked at rerald anxiously. Gerald looked down. ul a kind word, however sad he ight be, and until Miss Elaine came burger gobs the beab maluce for ho MAKE BABY FEELu GOOD. * / Pbo Ufi s L. â€"we hope so," he said. Y "Yes, snnfi AFSVT uvoo, & MRBTC C CCCG lec y aw a single night ; well, Mr. Locke, 1t his hair basn‘t turned grey, the signor bas grown old in a â€" single night." "I am going to the bridge," s#ald Gerald. * % "Yes, sir? It‘s pretty qulet thare now, but after the news spread the place was thronged. What â€"the two, and go to the club and stay there playing cards or billiards. And he wouldn‘t visit at country places as he used td do. A complete change seemed to have come over bim,. He was quite aitered. _ Field says that sometimes when he‘s come into the room he‘d find his lordship sitting with his head upon his bands like a man who‘d been ruinâ€" ed, or lostâ€"â€"" . ::Lost ?" said Gerald. Well, lost the only woman he‘d ever cared for. Yes, Mr. Locke, Iâ€"and youâ€"can guess that a woman was at the bottom of it. It‘s always a woman. Don‘t the French say whenâ€" ever anything goes wrong, ‘Find the woman‘? I‘m not a French scholar." Gerald nodded. § f "Well, sir, that went on till he came down to the Castle and > saw Miss Elaine. And â€" thenâ€"well, we know what happened. And for my part I can only say that I was not sutâ€" prised. _ There iso‘t a lovelier or A sweeter lady in the world than Miss Elaine. No, Mr. Locke, I wasn‘t surâ€" prised when I heard of their engageâ€" ment, but I was surprised when 1 heard that the engagement wAs broken of{f, and that Miss Elaine had run away. That worries me more than anything. Why, sir, from what I know and have seen of her, I should have said that she was the last woman in the world to have deserted her sweetheart in the hour, of his adâ€" versity !" Gerald Locke hung his head. "Miss Delaine was called away beâ€" foreâ€"before the discovery of the murder," he said, lamely. Ingram shook his head. i "That‘s the mystery to me, sir,‘ be said. "Not this murder ; that will be cleared up, no doubt. It mast be tleared up: But that Miss Elaine, the kindest, the nicest lady _ WC know, should leave him just at the beginning of this trouble !" Gerald Locke was silent for a moâ€" ment and then he said : es "And Lady Scott *is ill, you sAy? "Yes, sir, quite knocked over. She‘s a proud Lady, Mr. Locke, and this carting the marquis off to prison has just knocked her over." "And Signor Zanti?" Ingram shook his head. "IPm as sorry for him as for any one, excepting the marquis. _ He_â€" the signorâ€"is Just heartbroken. It‘s dreadfal to see him. _ They talk about a man‘s hair turning &r°Y 1‘1; UR UE o un m io Lalen â€"all the:Nairnes were fond of cards, Mr. Lockeâ€"but he seemed to take no interest. in _ anything. And the restlessness, the â€" Wanderâ€" ing Jew business which the peoâ€" ple talk so much about, began. The valet tells me that it was not at all an unusual thing for his lordâ€" ship to start for the Continent, or Norway, or anywhere, at a moâ€" ment‘s notice. He‘d come down here sometimes quite as if he meant to stay, and after a few hours, or a day or two at most, it would be, ‘Field, pack the portmanteau; I am going toâ€"night.‘" s Gerald Lacke nodded. "I know ; I nave heard of his restâ€" lessness," ' "Yes, and that wasn‘t all. Before this time the marquis was fond of the society of ladies; quite the laâ€" dies‘ man, Field says, and a great {avorite with them. And no wonder. You‘d find it â€" hard to match his lordship for make and face, Mr. Locke," Gerald nodded again. "Go on. All this is important, and may help me, Mr. Ingram." j ‘‘Well, to use the valet‘s â€" own wordsâ€"he was â€" tellingy me this last night in his room ; the poor felâ€" low is as cut up as if the marquis were his own brotherâ€"<the oh&:ge consisted in this: Béforé he went away, his lordship was gay... and lightâ€"hearted in all his wildness ; but now, after â€"he had:come ba.eg; All the lightâ€"heartedness had gohe? and he seemed ten years older. He still went about town, even played a bit ‘"Well, sir, 1 hope to God it may! Field assured me that after he had come back the marquis shuoned ladies‘ society. If he went to one of their soires or â€" receptions or balls, or whatever you call them, of their soirees or receptions or ‘les!" said Gerald,, seating himâ€" self on the stone rail of the steps, and listening intently. "Well ?" ‘"Well, sir, the marquis came back at last from wherever he was, and telegraphed to the valet ; and the man went up to London to him. He found the marquis a changed man." ‘lnow ?'! A & iiptrchadirncidies 1 id chi dA A .. he was, for nearly two years ; and all that time this man never â€"heard from him. His wages were paid by the solicitors in London, and they told the valet to let them have irig address. But not one word came from the marquis, though he was not in the habit of keeping his whereabouts secret, and had always taken the mar with him." "I know. Well »" "His lordshin wa lordship was away, wherever if "How do you know that?" eaid Gerald, in a ‘low voice. Luigi let his head fall again. "How do I know ?" he repeated alowly, cautiously, his hands tremâ€" bling. "How could she help him ? She knows nothing ‘o{f it. She was in bed. Gerald Locke, you have not ‘On the night of the murder, yes. But what has that to do with it, with theâ€"the case?" "I doln’t know. Do you?" he added, sn.}iden y. uigi. his face stili set and hard, ahook his head. â€"Luigi winced again, then turned his face to Gerald‘s keen eyes with a dogged kind of stubbornness. "No. She has nothing to do with it. Let her alone. Do you want to drag her innocence and purity into the shameful glare of a court of justice. Let her alone, I say!" His voice grew stern and angry. "She has sulfered enough. Besides," and he seemed to control himse$ with a great effort, "she could do no good. She could not henlg him, if you were to find ber a drag ber into the witness box. Rememâ€" ber thatâ€"" 2 f 2s /5 To He rdised his head as Gerald‘s step â€" reached his ears, and Gerâ€" ald was startled by the ‘change wrought: in the blind man‘s‘ face. It was, as ‘Ingram had":ilam._'a‘s t the Italian bhad grown‘‘oldl*%hce his master and friend had ~been‘ taken from him. £ "Signor Zanti," he said. ) . Luigi half rose, then sank back. "It is you," Mr. Locke," he said. "I thought I knew the step, but my hearing seems confused. Iâ€"â€"" He broke off with an earnest entreaty. "You have seen him? Has he sent me any message? Surely he has sent one word to me ?" Gerald sat down beside him. ‘"Yes," I have just left him," he replied. "He did not send you a message, Luigi, but you will not think he has forgotten you, because he has not spoken of you. He speaks of no one, indeed, he says very little aghout anything." _ _"The strong suffer in silence," murâ€" mured _ Luigi, hbis hands _ clasped tightly, ‘"and he is strong. Iknow him. ‘There is no one who knows him hetterâ€"so wellâ€"as I do. He will not speakâ€"" He stopped, as if he suddenly remembered that he was not alone. Gerald looked at him thoughtfully. "You do not ask me how I am getting on with the case, Luigi," he said. Luigi Zanti shook his head. "No" be said. "You will do all tha« can ne done." "I shall try," assented Gerald, gloomily. ‘"But it is hard, uphill work, when one has so little to go upon, and when one‘s own client deâ€" clines to help." . e eR C Luigi did not look startled or alâ€" armed, but his head sank still lower. "He will say nothing ?" he said, alter a pause. 4 sent for ber?" and be turned his besad ewift:y, with a look of terror It was Luigi Zanti, and he was sitting with his head leaning on his hands, his whole attitude eloquent of melancholy brooding. _ OA TB It seemed impossible to Geraid that such a man. as ~Lord Nairne should come back to the house and leave ‘the dead man lying out in the @lient night. s M Gerald stepped off the bridge and went down the bank, standing Jookâ€" ing for a minute or two at the spot where the body, had been found ; ther che went up again, and dlowly made his way back toward the house, feeling jaust as helpless as when he had entered the grounds, and he was rather startled at seeing .i man #seated on the rustic . banch which stood in a little leafy recess by the walk. _ o rpey "She is so no longer," Luigh broke in abruptiy. "They parted â€" there was no blame on either side, reâ€" member that! She is blameless, faultless, The nightâ€"â€"" "The night of the murder," put it Gerald, distinctly. a ‘There: again! . Gerald could. not bring chimsell to _ imagine , the marquls â€" guilty of thrusting his victim into the stream, or even leaving him there. Heâ€"was far more likely to call for assistance, and exâ€" claim;~"I Wave kilied this man! Take him ufr; see to him‘!"‘ * "Nothing," repeated Gerald, "and that is the very worst course for a man in the marquis‘ situation to adopt toward his lawyer." M "Yes, yes, yes!" breathed Luigi as if a heavy weight were pressâ€" ing down upon his chest and makâ€" ing it «ifficult for nim to speak. "You must do it all alone, without aid, withoutâ€"â€"" He stopped, and Gerald, who could not resist the temptation, â€"sprang the question upon him suddenly: y ‘"Luigi, do you know where Miss Elaine is ?" He saw the blind man start and wince as he shook his: head. "No. Whyâ€"why do you ask ?" "Isn‘t it a natural question? She was engaged to the marquisâ€"his promised â€" wifeâ€"â€"" t M ‘The marguis might be pagsionate, vengeful,, utterly . unable toâ€"control his temper; but no one. who knew him, however slightly, could deem him~capable of cowardice &and meanâ€" Agine, They . just: came ‘and~stared i:t the <bridge ‘and the stream as if bey .~ expetted ° _ to ‘__. have the. * whole ‘ murder played out {or them, or the deaa man‘s ghost. T‘d E0 with you; but I‘m waiting for the ‘head keeper, Davie. Everything seems at sixes and sevens..Two of the under keepers gave notice . this morning. There is nothing I can do for the marquis, I suppose, Mr. Locke *" The rail of the ‘bridge was a low one little more than two feet high. The murdered . man ‘had evidently staggered back a.ga.lngt it as the dagâ€" gerâ€"struck him, aod bad either overâ€" balancedâ€"or béen pushed over by the bhand that had dealt the stab. + Gerald said no, that there was noâ€" thing Mr. Ingram could do, and as he walked on he reflected bitterly how little he himwelf could do. He passed through the shrubbery and into the little glade or opening before the bridge, and then on to the bridge itself, and stood looking down at the stream, which was bubbling along:as giddily and }ishtâ€"heartedly along:as giddily and *lght-hesrtedly as ever, singing blithEly as it had sung while the deed of blood was beâ€" lng done. J â€", .~â€" ; _ ism Gerald looked round him, though of course there was nothing to be gleanâ€" ed by inspecting the scene. As Ingram had said, there had apparently been Do struggle, no conflict. Charles Sherâ€" win had been killed at once by that sharp, swiltly dealt blow of the groâ€" tesque dagger. ( ; expected to ‘seo IL can‘t"® im _ Uncle Hiramâ€" "Gosh, yes! ‘Specâ€" lally them air city jays wut‘s boardâ€" in‘ with us." . t Cige is 36 Village Merchantâ€"Well, Uncle Hirâ€" am, I suppose everything is looking green and fresh on the farm ?" "It isâ€"damning! As it stands, with mothing further to strengthen it, it may be sufficient toâ€"to conâ€" demn him. You understand ?" There was silence for a moment, then Luigi said in a low voice: "And if she could not save him ?" Gerald was silent. Was it possible Luigi Zanti knew #omething of, the truth, and he, too, desired Elaine‘s absence ?" "And if she could not save him?" repeated Luigi with melancholy earâ€" nestness. "And neither he, who knows ail, nor you, who know something, will speak. Do you intend to remain silâ€" ent ? Do you mean to say nothing till the verdict â€"‘g'uilltiy I!â€"has beei pronounced ? For eaven‘s sake, Luigi ,if you can say one mword that may help me save your friendâ€" he was your friend ?" "Then she is better away," said Gerald, with a sigh that was almost a groan. "Luigi, I seeâ€"I should. be blindâ€"oh, forgive me!" "Go on." "I cannot . help seeing that you knowâ€"You know ‘something. Can you not tell me ?" <% Luigi shook his head doggedly. Gerald Locke Jaid his hand upon the blind man‘s thin arm. "Consider, for God‘s sake, considâ€" er!" he said solemnly. "This is not a light thing. It is a matter of life or death ! Of life or death ! You know the evidence that has been brought against him." bs "My God! Yes, I _ understand," moaned Luigi, the great drops of sweat standing on his white brow. "A brother could not be dearer to me!" fell from Luigi‘s white lips. ‘"Well, then!" urged Gerald. (To be Tontinued.) "No, I have not gent for her, for the hast of all reasons," he replied. "I do not know where she is. No one knows Nothing has heen heard of, or from, her since she left, the mornâ€" ing after the murder." "I know t:â€"y*®s," responded Luigi with a stifled moan,. on his white face, which was not loast on Gerald. "But of course, I could find her," bhe went on moodiiy. "I intended doâ€" ing so.. I had made out an adverâ€" thsement for the papersâ€"â€"" _ P "Iâ€" don‘t know," â€" said Gerald, watching the white, haggard face. It depends. If I thought she could throw any light upon it, help to clear up the mystery, and save an innocent man, even though she were my sister, I should expect her and desire her to come forward." They Should be Rugged and Sturdy, Full of Life and Ready for Work, Play or Studyâ€"Keep Them Healthy Growing boys skhould always be kealthy and rugged. Ready for play, ready Tlor study, and ready at any time for a hearty meal. This condiâ€" tion Genotes good health, but there aAre entirely too many who de pot come up to this etandard. They take no part in the manly gamas all healâ€" thy boys Iindulge in ; they are etoopâ€" ghouldered, dull and listless; they complain of frequent headaches, and thelr appetite is variable. Someâ€" times parents say, ‘"Oh, they‘ll outâ€" grow it.‘"‘ But tney won‘tâ€"it‘s+the blood that‘s out of condition, and instead of getling better they get worse _ What boys ol this class re quire to make them bright, active ‘and strong lse a tonic, something that will b«ild up the blood and make the nerves etrong. There is no mediâ€" cine that can do this as quickly and as eflectively as Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills Mre. Mary Compton, of Merritâ€" ton, Ont., tells what theee pilils did: for hber sixteenâ€"yearâ€"old son. She says: "About two.years ago my son Samuel, began to dectine in health: He grew very pale and thin, and at times experienced serious weak spells, coupled with a tired, wornâ€"out {eelâ€" ign, and as the weeks went by he grew worse | This alarmed me, {for my busbind had died of what the doctore called paernicious anaemia, and I fcared my «on was golog the same way. I had often read that Dr. Williamg‘ Pink Pills would cure angae mia, and decided that he should‘ try them. A couple ofi boxes made a deâ€" cioed imurovement in his condition,. and by the time he had taken a hall. dozan boxes his health was better than it ha,‘ bsen for some years preâ€" vious. His weight ha2 increased, his lMetleseness has disappeared,; and he was blicssed with a good appetite. I may agd that other members of my famiiy have been benefited by the use of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills, and I consider these pills the best of all medicines." Figks? J Poor and watery blood is the cauge of nearly ali ciseases, and it is beâ€" cause Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills: nct directly wpon the blood, both enrichâ€" ing it and incremsing the quantity, that thry cure such troubles as anaeâ€" mia, rheumatism, indigestion, neural« gla, heart troubles, incipient conâ€" sumption and the various ailments that af{lict so many women. â€" These pills may bo had from ‘any dealer in mndicine, or will be sent postpaid at 50c. a box, or six boxes for $2.50, by writing to the Dr. ‘Williams‘ Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. . If you value your health never allow & dealer to persuacde you to take something else. Luigi drew a long breath of reâ€" lie{ as it seemed to Gerald. "But tne marquis has forvidden me to insert it." Luigt sighed heavily and let his head fall again with an expression of resignation. â€" "He is right," he said at last; "he is right. Itâ€"if Elaine were your sister, Gerald Locke, would you wish her to appear in this? Would you not do all, risk all, rather than ber purity should be sullied by conâ€" tact with all this shame ?" Will ~beâ€" the â€"Men o_f-,'thé 15 ._" "PULOIE. .." .! man Luigi raised his head and listened breathlessly. vC BOYS OF TOâ€"DAY . As Other See Us. Chinngh Naowse 8 o 9B i 45 1J "Friends advised Dr. Chase‘s Kidâ€" noyâ€"Liver Pills, and I now feel thaokâ€" ful that this medicine came to ‘my hands when I was in such a miserâ€" able condition. The first box gave reâ€" lef, and, fiiled with joy at the Of the Kidneys and Bowelsâ€"Wellâ€"known Steamboat Man Endorses Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pilisâ€"Statement Vouched for by Minister. Mr. Euchaer writes: "For many years I was the unhappy victim of kidney trouble, rheumatism and conâ€" stipation, which b:came so severe as to wake life a burdem > ] was a conâ€" stant eufferer, entirely uofit for work ; appetite was fickle ; I became emaciated ; could not sleep, but aroge in the morning tired and enfeebled. I lingered on in this condition, gradâ€" vally growing worse, and became deâ€" spondent and discouraged because I coul: obtain noâ€"reliel from the many malicines used. The youth looked around and said that the sky was clear. So tho old man came out and went with him to where the carcass of the big bear was lying. Then they cut up the bear, the old man constantly urging the youth to make haste, and the meat was placed on the old man‘s shoulders as he directed, the youth all the time being greatly astonished at the strength he showed. g "Agreed," said the other. "We will say that he was killed by the enemy and no one will ever be the wiser, for he will certainly die, if .we leave hinm here." %o the wicked men threw the youth into a deep cleft in the rocks and â€"went on their way home to the vilâ€" lage. â€" When they had come. there they reported that the boy had ‘died {rom wounds received in a fight with the enemy. man began to run toward the cleft in the rocks as fast as he could, but clouds began to gather rapidly in the sky and the thunoder rumbled in the distance. Mr. James A. Buchner, Port Robinâ€" son, Ont., was for years a steamâ€" boat man, and is favorably known in vvery port from Cleveland to Montâ€" real. Until a few months ago he was for years a great sufferer from kiiney dsease, rheumatism and conâ€" «tipatrior, â€" Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pills have made him well, and for the benefit of others he has made the statcment below ; man, "I will make you well again, but in turn you muet be my sglave, ?‘?d hunt:for me all the rest of your 6." To this the youth greed as he saw no other way out hisg predica~ ment ;â€"a@nd the old man (who was not an old man at all, but a porcupine who had asgumed the shape of an old man) cured him of the hurts and goon had him hunting for him and bringing home the game he killed to the cleft in the rocks. said the old man. All winter the youth hurnted for bis master. One day when the spring had come the youth killed a big bear which was too heavy for him to carry to the cleft in the rocks alone. "Now I will go and call the old Then they to‘d him that they were the Thunderers, whogs> mission it was to go about over the earth doing good, and destroying ‘things which harmed mankind. Just pnow they were after the old man who lived in the cleft in ‘the rocks, who was no old man at all, but a wicked porâ€" (tmmtfie' as they would presently prove o him. _*"Who are you and what are you doing in this wilderness where no man ever comes?" cried the youth. But the youth was not dead. As he ~lay: in the cleft in the rocks where the. wicked warriors . had thrown hitm, be saw, sitting & litâ€" tle way off, a strange looking old man, who said to him, "Ah, my son, what have your {riends done to you ?" â€"~*"They have left me here to die," I, @uppose," replied the iouth with calmness, for he was ashamed to show that he was afraid. "Ob, you will not die if you will agree to do as I require," said the man," he eald. But, just as he was stooping down to feel of the bear and see how fet he was, he heard a murmur of voices behind him, and, turning in eurprise. beheld three men, or figures in the shape of men, who wore cloudâ€"like garments with wingsg. _ So the youth went and told the old man that he must come and help carry the bear home. But the old man said he could not go out if there was any sign of a cloud in the sky. $ ‘Run back," they eaid, "and tell him to come and help you with the "Whenever you kill anything which is too heavy for you to carry, call me and I will come and help you," Among some tribes of indians the thunder is beld in great reverence ; they sing songs to it, and hbave dances in its honor. Once upon & time threee young men weore on the war path from their homes, when. the youngest of them had the misfortune to break his leg. By Indian law it became®the duty of the other two warriors to carry the youth safely to his home. Bo they made a rude litter and carried him on it untll they became tired. "Let us leave our wounded comâ€" panion‘ where he is," eaid one. "It uh.:oo much work to carry bhim farâ€" ther." _ Great was the grief of the boy‘s widowed mother, who wept and groaned at the loss of her son. As a reasgon for doing this theyt tell the following story : Finally they came to a range of mountains and, as the trail was steep and it was hard work to carry the youth any further, they laid the litter down and went to one side, where they held pouncil together. The old man threw down his load Loawded with the bear meat the old Another Cure of Chronic Disease TORONTO "It is by curing just such chronig and complicated cases as this that Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pil}s have breome so well known as a medicine of exceptional merit. _ Their direct and combined action on kidueys liver and bowels makes them suocessâ€" ful where ordinary medicines fail, One plll a dose ; 25 cents c'flox. at all Cealers, or m&swn.mttu 4& Co. Toronto. pro against Imitations the Mrd(': against Iimitations tme portrait and signature M Dr. aA. W. Chase, the f{amous reailpe book author, are ma every ‘box. buke*s: 1 Rev. W. D. Masgon, Methodist minâ€" ister, Port Robinson, Ont., writes ; "Being personalily acquainted with Mr. J. A. Buchner, who was cured by <the use of Dr. Chase‘s Kkhec Liver Pills, I can eay I believe would not make a slatement knowâ€" Ing it to be in any way misieading or untrue." thought of again recovering bhealth, J continued the use of these pills unt I had used six or eight boxes and was again enjoying my former health and vigor. I whall always recommend Dr. Chase‘s Kldneyâ€"Liver Pills as an biGeal ‘medicine." pill tion. Even then you will very likely be asked to call again toâ€"morrow, The lodgingâ€"houses are also closed, and the fishing boats are drawn ug on the beach above highâ€"water mark. When snow falls, the children spend much of their time in tobogganing down the narrow streets, At night the Heligolanders gathes in the public halls, the men to drink beer, smoke and play cards, and the woman to dance. ‘There are no for, malities, as all the islanders have known. each other from infancy,.â€" From "Queer Little Heligoland," by Arthur Inkersley, in ~Fourâ€"Trach News for September. and ran faster and faster, but tho thunder r“u‘u.bhd nearer :&d louo.r-. . % be oid » man 2 t shape of a hugo porcupin@, went ocomnl:: away, shooting : s quills out bebind him .h.r.l.‘ But the thunder followed him with: peal after peal until, finally, a boit; During the winter there are no visitors at Heligoland, and life is very dull on the island. Nearly all the shops are shut, and, if you want to buy anything, you have to ring or knock before you can attract atter drew back the curtain which cov= :l'::t it and stood there in the moonâ€" « A @ ‘The widow started up and gazed at him with terror, but he eald> " Do not be frightened, motber ; it is no ghoet, but your longâ€"lost sou, "who.huoomo back to take care of you.‘ y ‘Then the widow wept tears of joYy, while he told her all his adventures, and they lived happily ever after, And that is why the Indians dance and sing to the thunder. i fore hbe can belp himself. 1 Is it too late to purify our speech from these mischievous tendencies, or must we be content to see a great language turned into #shoddy? Cerâ€" tainly the effectiveness of English as an organ of thought is weakened by the careless use off its rocabulary. The creation of redundant words really adds nothing to the resources of a tongue, and the overworking of some words, combined with the unâ€" derworking of others, means actual impoverishment. Only a pedant would object to the gradual expansion of the dictionary by means of the adâ€" option of new idioms and â€" terms, When our ancient metaphors have lost their edge, we may be parâ€" doned If we turn even to colloquialh lsms for pointed expressions to take their place. But there is no proâ€" through confusion.â€"Chicago Post. Take, for instance, such words as extinguishment, revealment, . withâ€" drawment, devrotement, denotement and startiement. It is not difficult to trace the mental process. The word, extinguish, was in the speakâ€" er‘s mind. He wanted a noun, and to stick "ment" on to the verb was an exrpedient nearer to hand than the gearch for "extinction." Occasionally the quick change is from the noun to the verb When a man says, "to adâ€" ministrate," we may be sure that he first thought of "administration," and that he was then in too great a burry to notice that the analogy with A@éuch pairs as celebrate . and celebration, would mislead him. If one were making a collection of lingulsâ€" tic curios, one might add to it suck exhibits as propellation, affirmance, clientage, reminniscential, â€" moveâ€" less, traditionary, lelsuristic, unâ€" eympathy, and bishoply. In the mind of the offender there meems almost to be lurking a kind ol predatory Bo they gave him a cloud it with wings like their own, and the four swept away through the air to the Indian village where the youth‘s widowed mother dwelt. It was night when be found him= self in his mother‘s confield, and, going to the opening of the lodge, he The laziest of all laziness, says Herbert MW. Horwill in the Critie, is the practice of coining unnecessary new words. It might have been sup= posed, that, when there is already in exristence a word which exactly denotes the idea to be expressed, it would be eagier to fall back upom this wond than to invent anotber. In fact, bowever, it often requires leas effort to construct a linguistic monâ€" etrosity than to find the term that has been consecrated by good usage. false analogy, which grabs at h A Quaint Little Island. if 1)