STOCK IS IDLE, 28. â€" "If we don‘kt ten days of fine pon, there will be ovement of Maniâ€" lakes this fall," F general freight R., in answer to E:rw fast the crop 1e seaport. "Up e has been pracâ€" not Get Their Elevators,. r cars to carry oducts of the or local traffie t we are short st, where have is fo per cent, s last year, and will be able to ore trains movrâ€" n and Fort Wip anything to put ving. _ We have ‘0, and if the ‘re is any serâ€" pekade? re may not be, he people must to be a light that there wilDt heat to move ason. and the = will be much yeart ago." focammmms ) JEWS., @Clatered, Ug the riousg e:ty were Mes. _ The f.'c‘, of eome, that it ° man and not time last year ( the crop had lake, and was the seaboard, whole crop is it the weather will be utterly ( the railway _ prevent conâ€" ru to be Antiâ€"Semâ€" Ussia, it Kishine{if, od military > punderers® roops, * Jpâ€" ed and wellâ€" 7 . _ tye. of hree. Tep 8 wounded. of _ Mohiley, orrespondeat tion of the as the Rusâ€" â€"Semite riot® re _ renewed D ATTACK. give the farmâ€" their grain to uld be able to in shipping it stock that the Ccrop A T N BLOGKADE, more stands, there M )Q) U mots were I 1 1 Wranâ€" Mou jiks ended ip h mandy jiks deâ€" 1Q OÂ¥ ts left OgzTou» ippealâ€" J ¢ )C Touâ€" the cruelâ€" tried their club» vyonâ€" vere there is uD & w iek The reâ€" ime rc a bie ly LiX 1Dâ€" reâ€" in of is Mrs. James E. Harley, Worthingâ€" ton, Ont.. gives permission to pubâ€" lish the following letter for the benefit of other mothers who have young children in their homes. She says. "I have many reasons to be grateful to Baby‘s Own Tablets, and to recommend them to other wothers. Qur little girl is now about fourteen months old, and she hbhas taken the Tablets at inâ€" tervals since she was two months old, and I cannot speak too highâ€" ly of them. Bince I came here aboug a year ago, every moiher whio has emall children bas asked me what J gavre our baby to keep her in wich even health, and I have reâ€" plied "absolutely nothing but Baby‘s Own Tablets." Now nearly erery child bere gets the Tablets when a medicine is needed, and the oldâ€"{aszhioned crude medicines, such as castor oil and soothing preparaâ€" tions, which mothers formerly gave their little ones, are discarded. Our ‘family doctor also strongly praises Ahe Tablets, and says they are a wonderful medicine for children. Acâ€" cept my thanks for all the good .your Tablets have done my little one, and>I hope other mothers will profit by my experience." Baby‘s Own Tablets can be given with absolute safety to the youngâ€" est, frailest ctbild, and they are guaranteed to cffre all the minor allments of little ones. Sold by all medicine dealers or mailed at 25 cents a box by writing the Dr. Willismsg‘ Melicine Co. Brockville, weky.:: .:. > "Long‘!‘ Itâ€"it Ml_md the m "Yes," said :en two -u;h & y e out ofol‘:“lz‘tra Ga.. 40. 1. "0, ** uC â€" wWas NoOtâ€"wanderâ€" ing in the land of sahadows, dead yet Hving, last to this world of ours apd all it holds ; and, almost desperâ€" ate, the major questioned the docâ€" tor, who had watched over her as Bbeâ€"good and devoted pbysician â€" as h!gâ€"hd not yet watched over a e _ ..~. j 400. C Beemed to bim asif ; his i "the major‘s young abe would never regain oonclon.â€"' udy."‘qdfl“ Me® "f o4 Bess as i{â€"as if she must die. And "Are you makiog a long stay here, Â¥hen he would cover his lace with| Mr. Brown,*" asked the major Oone Ms bands andâ€"not weep, it would | day, in a purposeless fashion. .:vo been better for him if he could| "Oh, 1 don‘t know," replied _ Mr. ve done soâ€"but moan feeb‘y as Brown, for that, he had informed the be pictured himself hereft of â€" the major, was his name. "I‘m just stayâ€" m whom he loved with a love he ing on ; the place suits me. I suppOR@ "hive . weeks pessod, n‘ Elaine | TOUH D6 moring as figy i m * w + _ & aine in ts strong enough." E-“.h!‘-... it ,..'; was notâ€"wanderâ€" i u“l:fc’dnn't hv;‘nw," ‘rmlled the "Is whe uever going to recover ? In she going to be like this, always tillâ€"tillâ€"" ‘The poor old man could not finigh the despairing question. The doctor shook his head. "It has been a long time," he said aelowly. "Long!‘ Itâ€"it is phenomenal!" exâ€" ‘The major got into conversation with him one day, and naturally enâ€" ough began to talk _ of his daughter‘s illness . The â€" little man was vyory sympathetic, and seemed â€" particularly â€" anxious . to learn whether Miss Delaine was likeâ€" ly to come round, and how long it w ould be before she was likely to do so, and the major glided into the habit of smuking a cigzar with this man in the arbor or in the pleasant gardens. The man appeared to have nothing to do, and he was pleasant and chatty, and very sympatlhetic in M'l_md the major. "IL never knew ‘"Yes," said the doctor. "I have seen two such cases One was that ol a young fellow who was thrown out of hMs trapâ€"dogâ€"cart. He struck his head against a lampâ€"post and was unconsclous for six weeks." The major got upâ€"with what a feeble movement compared with his ol! alertness !â€"and wandered down the stairs. He knew that the doctor was right, and thut he was going the way to knock himseli up ; and, "Good Heavens," be thought, ‘"it will not do for me to be ill, and not able to anâ€" awer hber when she comes to her senses, and asks me, ‘"What shall I do ? And what am I to answer her ? he groaned. Among them was a short, neatlyâ€" dressed man whom the major could not recollect having seen before ; but as tho strangorâ€"if he was a strangâ€" er and newcomer at the hotelâ€" touched his hat and mado respectâ€" ful inquiry after Miss Delaine, the major, touching his hat, assured him courteously though absently, and wont on to the arbor to smoke the cigar tho doctor had prescribed. _ He scarcely noticed as he mado his way back to the house that the dap per little personage was seated in a rockingâ€"chair opposite the doorâ€" way ; but each time the major passed out into tho garden, or went to the salloâ€"aâ€"manger to try and eat his lunch or dinner, the neatlyâ€"dressed and unobtrusiveâ€"looking _ individual sacemedl to be in his path and to haunt him. "And died at the end of it !" said the major brokenly. 4 "No. He is alive and well and strong. Be patient, major, and conâ€" sole yoursel{ with this reflection. Sometimes, I say sometimes, we medical men would rather see a paâ€" tient lost to all consciousness of what is 7011:5 on than intell gent and aware ol it. God is merciful even when we deem Him most hard. Some sorrows would kill at the first shock but for this," and ha nodded toward the white face and still, almost deatiâ€"like form. "He lays His hand upon the overstrained brain and beâ€" numbe it. This poor child has suffered some such shock as that of which I speak, and if the mind were free it wouldâ€"â€", Better to see her like this, raving with fever, than hopelessly mad, major !" As ho stepped out of the doorway to make for the arbor, the hotel visitors who were in the gardens looked pityingly, and some of them came up and shook hands with him, and madeo respectiul and anxious inâ€" quirics after Elaine. The major hid his eyes for a moâ€" ment and groaned. + "Andâ€"and you think she will not die 2" ‘"No, I think not ; I will promiseâ€" under Providenceâ€"that she shall not. But I shall have another patient on my hands if you don‘t take care, and I‘m busy enough as it is. You go down into the gardens and smoke a cigatr." A LETTER TO MOTHEXS. gang t +/ CVE | IBUy . ° o youre And | _ "Are you makiog a long stay NEre, | my ‘exan vltlg :l(.r lihown.?" asked t‘hoh:‘l:)or one ;-t;u .i‘ndln ou 7, in a purposeless fashion. nd ould | _ "Oh, I don‘t know," replied _ Mr.| shoulder. _ &8 | Brown, for that, he had informed 1Re | my year the ‘ major, was his name. "I‘m just stayâ€"| have sul > he ing on ; the place suits me. I suppO8@| will not â€"._â€" | you‘ll be moving as soon as Miss D¢â€" | acorn lif gigei laine gets strong enough." _ ) marry t !L siontimeremdiscats s e c C# s C t F §6 8 ue r s jm s 4 / it . nothingâ€"nothing !" The marquis looked at him sadly, but with the impassive calmness he bad maintained throughout. "My poor Gerald," hbe said. "If I had been in your place I should bave thrown up my brief long 'ince-’. t The marquis let bis hand fallâ€"it :as perfectly steadyâ€"on his shoulâ€" er. ELCC 1 & "Andâ€"and you mean to say nothâ€" ing ?" said Gerald, his agitation reâ€" vealing itgelf for a moment. The marquis turned away. "Sometimes there is nothing that can be aaid," he replied. "And that bs our case, is it not ?" Gerald Locke, far more agitated under his outward and professional gnlx(x’: than the marquis, shook his ead. "Don‘t take your unpreparedness too much to hbeart, Gerald," he said. "It is not your fault that you are not ready with a favorable defence, but mine. Who could defend a man who can say aothing in his own deâ€" fence 2?" i Gerald Locke did not answer for & moment, then he eaid in a hurried, broken voice ; o Tho major read the paragraph and trembled. The twoentyâ€"first and it was now the tenth. Eleven days! He almost praycd that she might remain unconscious until tho twentyâ€"second, or until tho trial should be over and tho verdict pronounced. Mikie â€" m "It has come all too soon for me, marquisâ€"all unprepared asI am." . "I did so in the belief, on the unâ€" derstanding, that you would renâ€" der me the assistance whichâ€"which an accused never fails to render." llThe marquis looked at him steadâ€" Â¥. "What assistance could I render you ? You know the evidence that will be brought against me!" _ Indeed that nightâ€"the night he read the announcement of the date of tho trialâ€"â€"as he held her hand, and looked into ‘her face, he almost prayâ€" ed that se might die before that It was Tuesday, the 22nd, and the day of the trial. _ So great had been the crow«l in the streets of the assizo town that a force of mounted police had been required to keep it in order. People had come not only from the neighboring towns and districts but from London itself to be preâ€" sent at the hearing of this, the most sensational and romantic trial of the last decade. At an early hour the streets had been thronged, and at 11 o‘clock the carriages of the county famiâ€" lies had been compelled to make their way at a snail‘s pace through the dense crowd. At ten o‘clock Gerald Locke had asked for admission to the marâ€" quis‘ cell, and had found him dressâ€" ed and ready, and outwardly as calm on this morning on which his fateâ€"his life or deathâ€"would be decided, as he had been on the day of his arrest. "At my â€" requestâ€"right. I an quite satisfied and content, I de sire no better advocate. Well ?" "I know that and nothing more," said Gerald. "You hbave not assisted me by a single word! Not a single word. You, knowing that I would give ten years of my life, my chance of happiness through all my life, to save you, have vouchsaied So numerous had been the appliâ€" cations for _ seatsâ€"for standing room evenâ€"in the small court house, and the high sheriff had found it necessary to issue tickets, and these had been fought for with an ardor which could not have been warmer if they had representâ€" ed a free admittance to paradise. Sergeant Lestiie had been inâ€" structed by the Treasury to apâ€" pear for the prosecution, and the fact that the Treasury had thought it necessary to send him down evinced the importance it attached to the case. A cordon of police, mounted and on foot, kept the approaches to the court house, and now and again their services were required to keep in order an impatient crowd angry at being denied admission to the court in which nearly every place had been allotted. At five minutes to eleven the High Sheriff‘s carriâ€" age was seen wendinogâ€"rather forecâ€" ingâ€"its way through the mob, and a cheer was raised as the whiteâ€" haired judge was seen at the winâ€" "Ah, Just so ; all depends, of course. Your poor young lady still remaing unconscious ?" _ «L * % The major sighed. ‘*Yes! yes !" "Poor young lady !" said Mr. Brown sympathetically. "Will you give me a light, major ?" and he began to talk of the lake and the steamboats. _ The days wore on, it seemed to the major, at times with hideous slowâ€" ness, at times with awlul rapidity. The London papers hbad reported the exaimination and coroner‘s inquest, "Willul Murder Against Ernest Edâ€" wynd, Marquis of Nairne," and preseâ€" ently came the announcement of the date of the trial. 7 ton, and tho accused nobleman will como before Judge Rawlings on or about tho twentyâ€"first. No trial for a capital offonse has created so much curioalty sinco that of soâ€"andâ€"s0." _ "Lord Nairne, when I undertook this caseâ€"at your requestâ€"â€"" f "Iâ€"I don‘t know," â€" replied th: major, flushing and looking bard a his cigar. p ¢ * : _"The accused will be tried at the Downshiro Assizes held at Porlingâ€" "Well, Gerald," he said, with a sad smile, "are they nearly ready? I‘m glad of it. It has been weary work waiting, waiting." CHAPTER XXXVI & ., .’ M TT Rhimnt T is reraton t lt c nattt n Aenp Afecyern» 9 * (upe P _ “M [ ®â€"zeas .A n n ASE Pn lve.l not I!" said Gerald, auickly. "Do you know where she is? For God‘s gsake tell me the truth ! I feelâ€"I have "I do not know. Take care!" and the dark, penetrating eyes fixed themselves on Geraid‘s anxilous ones. ‘"Unless you want to wind the rope more closely round me, do not speak of her. Keep her name from your lips." Gerald groaned. "BHee here, Lord Nairne!" he said, desperately. " I have to defend you, and defend you Iwill! I give you warningâ€"fair warningâ€"that, come what will, I shall do my duty toâ€" ward you! I do not believe you guilty ! I say, I do not !" " Remember the evidence!" . exâ€" claimed the marquis, holding up hbis hand warningly. " Rebut it if you canâ€"but you cannot !" Gerald‘s pale, anxious face {flushâ€" :g.d and the marquis hastened to "But I know you are not thinking Of yourself bhut me. Well! Follow my example. I am indifferent; be you indiilierent, Geraldâ€"â€"" He laid his hand again on the young man‘s ehoulder. ‘"When you have got to my years. But no! You will not have suflfered as I have suffered, will not have learned to hate and ecorn life, as I do! No, you will marry that aweet little girl whom I hbelped to meet you at the ball, Elaine‘s _ frienaâ€"â€"" He stopped a&bruptly, and turned his head away. "Elaine! You have epoken of her, "Bhe cannot," said the marquis, #olemnly. "Every word she would utter would tell against us Be conâ€" tent with that !" * & suspicion that sheâ€"and she alone â€"can help us." " Time‘s up, my lord," said Colonel Ward, opening the door of the cell. ‘The marquis held out his hand. " Go, then, Gerald," he said. *" Do your best, butâ€"remember! save me if you can, but not at the expense of the innocent." With these words ringing in his ears, Gerald went out and put on his wig and gown and entered the court. Counsel for the accused as he was, he had to fight and force his way in, so great was the crowd. ols At eleven o‘clock the judge, in his ermine robe, entered, and made his way to the bench, and everybody stood up, the barrisâ€" ters making a low bow in response to his. e " Yes, all. Wait! You have menâ€" tioned Elaineâ€"Miss Delaineâ€"again. Remember ! I charge you under no circumstances are you to bring her name intz couri !" " Pardon me!" said Gerald firmly. "Iâ€"May loves Elaineâ€"but though she were my sisterâ€"I repeat it !â€" though she were my sister, I should bring her into court if by producing her I could save you, my client!" _ " It was your fault that we bad not engaged Sir Charles, or Sir Edward1" exclaimed Gerald. The marquis smiled. * Neither could do more than you can,‘ he said, almost wearily, " and neither of them would have underâ€" stoodâ€"could have been my friend as you are. Be content, as I am." e "I cannot!" cried Gerald. "I canâ€" not hbelieve it. Why is she not bere ?" canâ€"but you cannot !" ** We shall see !" retorted Gerald beâ€" tween his teeth. "Is that all you have to say to me ?" " Have you not found her?" asked the marquis. * No," dnswered Gerald reluctantly. "Good!" said the marquis. " And you will not. Take my advice ; anyâ€" thing she could say would lose you your case, my friend. Do you hear? Now thenâ€"what is it ?" ‘"‘My poor friend, I hope your next client will give you less trouble. As for meâ€"â€"" He paused. "Well, I hopse your next client will also be less indifferent." i "I shall plead ‘Not guilty! for you," said Gerald doggedly. The marquis nodded. "As you please. Who is the judge ?" ‘"Rawlings," said Gerald. The marquis smiled sadly. "‘The hanging judge! My friend, everything is against you. And the counsel for the prosecution ?" . " Leslie. Bourne is il!." ; " Leslie!"‘ repeated the marquls, calmly and gravely. "A clever counâ€" sel. I met him once at a public dinâ€" ner. I wonder whether he will remember me? _ He is a foeman worthy of your steel, Gerald." _ _ The crowd stared at his thin, cadâ€" averous, deeply lined face curiously, and muttered comments upon it, unâ€" til the usher in his black gown rose, and demanding silence, made a quieâ€" tude for the clerk of the court to call upon "Ernest Edwynd, Marquis of Nairne." The marquis entered the dock, and, amid a sudden, dense silence, with every eye turned, fixed gimletâ€"like upon him, stood listening to the ‘"Do you plead guilty or not fl"t" ?n The marquis hesitated. All saw the hesitation ; then in a low, but clear voice, he said : "Not guillty !" The crowd dren breath of reâ€" lief. They had fear« i »â€"~ the moment ‘The colonelâ€"governor appeared at the doer of the cell. Gerald remained silent for a momâ€" ent or two, then he said : # "You plead ‘Not guilty? " The marquis thought a moment. "They don‘t, as a rule, allow you to plead guilty to a charge of murâ€" der, do they ?". . . 1 on e e w oo t Judge Rawlings was a clever judge, but a severe one. He had no symâ€" pathy with criminals, and no mercy for them. Neither was he a respector of persons. To him, men and woâ€" men were alike. He dealt out that rare commodity, justice, with a fair and even hand, and without fear or favor. $ _*"Marquis, I _ entreat you! _ For your own sake, forâ€"for Elaine‘s, tell me the truth !" "A quartorâ€"of an hour, my lord,‘ he said gravely. iA oo 1 ( Gerald Locke turned to the marâ€" quis imploringly. _ : [ 4t What could counsel, however acute and enthusiastic, accomplish with such a client ? clung to it, hoping against hope, as I do; hoping that something might turn up which might bhelp you ‘to save your client." "I suppose I should," assented the marquis, after a pause. "But nothâ€" ing can turn up, my poor Gerald. And this is your first brief! Never ( The marquis looked at him steadâ€" "I can tell you nothing," he said. "No, you wouldn‘t," o It brief! Never do you any Sergeant Leslie made a very plain opening speech. It was, he said, his painful duty to produce evidence against a peer of the realm of the heinous crime of murder. By not one unnecessary word would he weigh the case against the accused, nor would he endeavor to strain a single point for the prosecution, or refuse to admit a single point that might be argued for the defence. The truth, and the truth only, whether it resulited in the condemnation of the prisoner or his acquittal, must be the desire of all who that day took part in one of the most solemn functions that could fall to the lot of mortal man; and that the truth would be shown he had every faith and conviction, If she could have done so she would have kept away from the court, but sho dared not be absent from a scene at which every other person in the neighborhood would be preâ€" sent. Besides, she felt that it would be better for her to be there, and ascertain for herself whether there was any likelihood of her share in the night‘s work being discovered. Bhe, like the marquis, glanced round the court as she entered and took her seat, but she could not see Fanny Inchley, for whom her eyes were seeking. _ 3 T < . May Bradley had secured a seat beside her father at the solicitore‘ table, and as the marquis stepped into the dock the tears sprang to her eyes, and sne began to tremble as she thought 1 " If Elaine were here, this would kill her !" That one sweeping glance had skown him all the faces familiar to him. On, or near, the bench sat Lady Dorman and Lady Bannister, Miss Luilwood and several other liadies were seated behind the jury box. At the solicitors‘ table was Sir Edmund and Mr. Luiwood and Mr. Bradley. Ingram had managed to fight his way to a spot close beneath the dock, and stood there with folded arms, as if proclaiming, by his atâ€" titude, his belief in his master‘s inâ€" pocence; and just below the dock sat Luigi Zanti. He had begged them to place him as near his protector and friend as they could and, pityâ€" ing his blindness and grief, they had placed a chair within reach of the marquis‘ hand if he should chance to lean over. r The marquis failed to see Lady Blanche. She was seated beside Lady Bannister, but had leaned back as if to screen hersell. She wore a veil, beneath which her face was deathly white. 1 London Free Preoss. The general tax rate of this city is the highest in thr Province. This is not a pleas: ».atomont to make, but it shoul4 > i==+ ia mind. : Stubboru Liseases. Proo{f upon proo{f has accumulated that Dl:n Williams Pink t.';.ln“t 'ï¬ cure w doctors, hospi rea ment and all other medicines Sail. Paralysed limhe hare been restored to strength, rheumatic suf{erers made well, weak, anaemic ‘girle and women made bright, active and etrong ; peuralgic pains banished, and the poor dyspeptic given a new digestion when it seemed almost hopeless to expect a cure. Here is a bit of strong proo{ that Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pille bring health and strength after years ol sullering. Mr. Louis Brien is a wellâ€"known resident of St. Didace, Que.,. and tells of his years of suffering as follows: "Eleâ€" even years ago, while working in the bush, I strained mysell and brought on terrible pains in m.;. stomach and back, where the trouble to locate. I had frequent fits of vomiting, which caused much disâ€" tress. Sometimes 1 could work, and then again for months at a time 14 would be wholly unable to do anyâ€" thing ; but even at the time I could work I was always sulfering. At different times I was treated by, three doctors ,but they were unable to help me. Then T went to Monâ€" treal and put mysell under the care of a doctor there. His medicine reâ€" lievred me while I was inactive, but as sgoon as I attempted work or exâ€" ertion of any kind, the pains reâ€" turned worse than before. All this time I was growing weaker and less able to resist the inroads of the trouâ€" ble. Then Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pille were brought to my notice, and I began to regain my health and by the time I had used thirtecen boxes I was once more a well, strong man. The proof of this is that L pan do as bard a day‘s work as anyone and never have the slightest symptoms of the old trouble. I am onï¬ gorty that 1 did not know of t plllle With such proof as this, that even apparently hopeless cases can be cured, there can be no reasonable doubt that Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills will restore health in all cases where glven a fair trial. These pills are sold by all medicine dealers or will be sent by mail at 50c per box or ect to the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. See that the full name, "Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills for Pale People," is printed on the wrapper mround every box. ! soonerâ€"they would have saved me uch suffering and money as well" ‘The last few weeks had told upon him, and the marquis looked an oldâ€" er man by five years; but though his face was pale and careworo, there was mo sign of fear in it. His dark eyes were perfectly calm and restful, and after a slow survey of the court, he fixed them on the face of Bergeant Leslie. s w . WELL AND STRONG AFTER ELEVEN_ _ YEARS OF GREAT SUFFERING. A Wonderfu: Tribute to the Power of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pilis to Cure of suspense that the accused would plead guilty, and so rob them of their entertainment. Sergeant Leslie got up and arrangâ€" ed his gown and began his address. He was as moderate as a prosecutâ€" ing counsgel in a murder case always For some few minutes the crowd scarcely listened to him ; all their attention seemed concentrated upon the tall figure standing in the priâ€" soner‘s dock. How Are the Water Rates ? ONTA (To be Continued,) TORONTO ## Llacbs Wher you think of the pain and ecf{ering which accompany backache, rhermatism, lumbago, stone in the kidneys and bladder, when you think of the dreadful fatality of Bright‘s disease; dropsy, diabetes and apoâ€" plexy, you may well wonder why poople neglect to keep the kidneys in per{fect order, for all these ailments aro the direct result of deranged kidneys _ _ ___ h * Once the kidneys fail to filter from the blood the impure and poisâ€" onous waste matter there is trouble of a painful and dangerous nature. Among the first symptoms are backâ€" ache, weak, lame back, pains in the legs and sides, deposits in the urine, Impaired digestion, loss of flesh, enâ€" ergy and ambition, stiffness and soreness in the joints and feelings of weariness and lassitude. Prevention is always better than Bates & Co cvre, and hence the advimbility of egainst im asing Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pillse signature on the first indication of such de-i(azmu re rangement. Whether to prevent or|cevery box. to the proper grade and shape, the tile ghould be laid very carefully to sequre perfectly close joints. with the aid of a tile hook they may be placed rapidly and accurately withâ€" out getting into the ditch. Bome preâ€" fer to place the tile with the hand, standing in the ditch, and stepping Ailments of the Most Painful and Fatal Nature Prevented and Cured by depth of the drain. A crossâ€"piece about two feet long is nailed on the top ol the standard. These crossâ€" beads are then placed along the line of the ditch, so that the cross pleces are in line. The proper grade i# ascertained by the use ol the orâ€" dinary spirit level. When ready to lay the tille a standard should be set at the bottom of the drain and marked in line with the tops of the crossâ€"heads ; this will, by testing evâ€" ery few feot, give a true grade for the tiles. i LAYING THE TILE.â€"When the botâ€" tom of the drain has been brought GRADING.â€"As a rule drains should be given as much fall as possible, and the gradient should not be less than two inches in one hundred feet, if this can be secured. Careâ€" {ful leveling is necessary to ensure & uniform falll throughout the course of a drain. As a simpe method for this purpose, one of our leading auâ€" thorities necommends the ditcher to use several crossâ€"heads made {rom strips of oneâ€"inch boards, three or four inclmes wide. The length of the standard varies according to the the same track with an ordiaary plow. Then the subsoil may be broken up with a good strong subâ€" Boil plow. In this way the earth may be loogend to a depth of two feet or more and thrown out with narrow shovels. The bottom of the drain should be dug with narrow draining spades, made for the purâ€" pose. The ditch should be kept straight by meane of a line stretchâ€" TILE.â€"For underâ€"draining there is nothing better than the ordinâ€" ary round drain tile. The size to be used can only be decided by a study of the conditions under which the drain is to work. They should be large enough to carry off in 24 to 48 bhours the surplus water from the heaviest rains, but it is imâ€" portant that they should not be too large, as the cost of underâ€" draining is governed largely by the size of the tile used. It may be mentioned that the capacity of round water pipes is in proportion to the squares of their diameters, That is, under the same conditions, a twoâ€"inch pipe will carry four times as much water, and a threeâ€" Inch pipe nine times as much waâ€" ter as a oneâ€"inch pipe,. In fact, the larger pipe will carry even more than this proportion, because of the greater friction in the small pipe. In ordinary cases, five or sixâ€" inch tiles are recommended for the lower part of a main drain and fourâ€"Inch for the upper portion ; for the branches, two and a half to threeâ€"inch are preferable. DEPTH AND DISTANCE APART. It is seldom necessury to lay draing more than four feet below the surâ€" face, and in nost cases two and a haif to three and a half feet will be found suflicient. The proper dis tance between branch drains deâ€" pends on the quantity of water to be carried and the nature of the subâ€" woil. In general practice the lines of tile are usually placed from filty to one hundred feet apart. In a tenpacious clay soil, however, thirty feet would not be too close. Dreaded Results of Kidney Disease MODF OF UNDERORAINING. THE KIND OFf TILE TO USE. DiGGING THE DRAIN.â€"The drain may be opened up in the first place by passing three or four times along ed tightly near the ground, and about four inches back from the edge. In ordinary cases, the «ditch peed not be more than a foot wide at the top and four to six inches tised by our best farmers will be given. To secure satisfactory reâ€" gults, careful study should first of all bo given to the best manner of lagying out Aa system of drains, the aim being to secure the greatâ€" est fall, the leagt amount of digâ€" ging, and the most perfect drainâ€" at the bottom, the width, of course, Increasing in proportion to the depth of the drain and the size of the tile. Expert Information < Telling How it Can Best be Done. t Commissioner‘s Branch, t Oltawa, Bept }, 190% In a previous article some of the advantages ol underâ€"draining were pointed out; in this case an outâ€" line of the method of draining pracâ€" DR. CHASE‘S KIDNEY LIVERâ€"PILLS. «o t mm neingutcamesconeari ie nos nemmmemenis t on n en s ocm a n n m .l This melicine has long since provem lts right to first place as a cure for the corplicated and serious derange= | wents of the flltering and excretory organs. It has the largest sale and is endorsed by more people than aay similar treatment. You can d?nd on it absolutely to bring prompt re» ‘lief and lasting cure. In view of these facts it is a waste of time and money anmd a risk to life itsel! to trifie with new and untried remedies when | Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pills are at ‘hand. One pill a dose, 25 cents a ‘box, at all dealers, or Edmanson, Bates & Co., Toronto. To protect you ‘egainst imitations the portrait and signature of Dr. A. W. Chase, the i“'f’"._ receipt book #suthor, are om aro the wost e[fective treatment you can Oobtain, for besies their direct anmd specific action on the kidpbeye, they keep the bowels regular and the liver active, and hence purify the syetem and remove the cause of diz cure, Dr. Chase‘s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pille ering it is preferable to put the aurâ€" lave seoil nest the tiles, for if perly packed it will prevent the E @oll from getting in ar the joints, laying should b gin at the outist of the m:in drain, and where connection is made wit» branch lines, enough of the branch ahould be laid to permit the main to ba F.flly filled in. JUCNCTION AND OUTLETSâ€" ADB junctions of branches with the main line shou!ld be made at an acute angle, or where the fall is sufficient from above the axis of the mailn Tunl:-l.dl:bocl of it w d th :m t slit and the blocking of the tile at the junction. Specially made joint tile may be used, or thbe conmcction may be made by cutting a bole in the main tHe with a tile pick. ‘The outliet of the drain should be so placed that there will be a free flow of water. If Protoctad with masonry and a gratâ€" ing to keep out animals, so much the better. In this country glazed sewer pipe or glazed drain tile may be used to advantage for the last ten or fifteen feet© to prevent injury by frost. In cloclni‘ it may be well to recall the fact that trees shou‘d not be allowed to grow near a line of lile, through which water flows during the greater part of the year, as the roots are apt to enter at the joints in search of water, and in course of time close the drain. Wilâ€" lows, poplars and eims are particeâ€" larly objectionable in this respect. Yourse very truly, W. A. Clemons, Publication Clerk. What is probably the largest sum paid for a sermon in the world every year goes into the pocket of some lucky German preacher, and amounts to £720. In 1690 a wealthy French baron named Favart, who resided in Elberfeld, died and bequeathed bis riches to the Protestant Church there on the condition that it should be invested and the interest given annually to some clergyman chosen haphazard from those holding the poorest livings in the See, on conâ€" dition that he preached a short serâ€"« mon extolling the baron‘s good deeds. It is generally Gelivered on the firat Sunday in June after the usual mornâ€" ing service, ard being of hall an hour‘s Gquration amounts to £24 a minute. t Although the preacher benefits byt little, the sermon preached at 6t, Giles Church in the city in memory of one Charles Langley every year is very richly endowed. ‘The church Is filled with poor people, and amongst the congregation the sam of £840 in clothes and money is afterâ€" wardsâ€"distributed, the clergyman reoâ€" ceiving £2 and each of the churchwarâ€" dena 10s.â€"Titâ€"Bits MA carefully on each tile as laid. In covâ€" a large sum of money to the Habâ€" erdashers‘ Company, stipulating that ‘the interest was to be given to the preacher of the best sermon within the radius mentioned. _ As this was a somewhiat difficult matâ€" ter to determine it was decided to distribute £250 out of the £400, which the interest amounts to, among clergymen of the East end, and the balance given to the preacher of the "Golden Sermon," which is never delivered twice in the same church. Although this is the highest price paid to any individual for a serâ€" mon in this country, preaching at the rate of a guinea a minute is anything but unremunerative. On the anniversary of the late Queen Victoria‘s session every year & sermon is delivered in Durham, Cathedral, which must not be of more than a quarter of an bour‘s duration. For this the preacher receives sixteen guineas, but there is nothing to show, how the cusâ€" tom originated. _ _ BR Not many people know the meanâ€" Ing of the "Lion" thanksgiving serâ€" mon, which is preached in the Church of Bt. Catherine Cree im Leadenhall Btreet every year. In the weventeenth century Sir John Sayer, then Lord Mayor of London, was traveling in the east, when he had a miraculous escape from beâ€" Ing killed by a lion. On his returnp he ordered that a thanksgiving serâ€" mon should be preached every year, and set aside a sum of money, the interest on which was to be given to the poor, while the preach« er retained «what he considered & fair price for his sermon. _ For a sermon «[ ten unnutes‘ durâ€" tion £150 must be considered an excellent price, and this sum is pald every year for what is known as the "Golden Sermon," which may be preached in any church within a sixâ€"mile radius of the Haberdast erg‘ Hall. Many years ago a man named ‘William Jones died and left y% y% $ t