THE HERMISTON HERALD
Thursday, April 3, 1930
The Mazaroff M ystery
B y J. S. PLETCHER
Illustrations by Irwin Myers
W . N. U. Servie*
«E, by Alfred X Knopf. In o .)
TMK «TO R Y
M ervy n H o lt la engaged by a
man c a llin g h im self M axaroff aa
a tra v e lin g companion. A fte r a
abort to ur they put up a t the
Woodcock
Inn on M arraedale
moor. They m eet, eaeually, Mrs.
Slphlnatone and S heila U erchl-
eon.
CHAPTER I— Continued
“Holt, laddie,” be said, w ith a con
fidential nod, “you’ll understand me.
I'm sure— I want to have this day to
myself, looking round old spots, you
know, alone. And also, there’s a man
I w ant to see on a hit o f business.
Bo— you’ll amuse yourself till evening,
when I ’ll be back In good tim e for
dinner?"
“O f course!” I agreed. “I ’U be all
rig h t Don’t bother about me.”
H e thanked me, almost as I f I bad
been the first person to consider.
Presently, carrying a stout stick, he
went out— and I noticed that Just be
fore leaving our sitting room be put
on a p air of blue spectacles, with
some rem ark about the glare of the
sun.
H e went oft la the direction
o f the village, and I saw no more of
him until he turned up again Just as
dinner was ready at seven o’clock. He
was very quiet and thoughtful during
dinner, and It was not until be was
h alf way through his after-dinner
cigar that he suddenly motioned me
to draw my chair close alongside his
own.
"H olt,” he said, “I ’ve something to
tell you. And, m an!— It ’s the strang
est tale you ever heard in your life I”
1 suppose I gave him a wondering,
and perhaps a half-uneasy stare, for
be nodded reassuringly as he drew his
chair still closer to mine.
“Nothing to be frightened about.
H o lt, my lad,” he said. “Just a— a
coll, aa you might put It.
But— a
bad one I And, aa I said Just now—
as strange a tale aa ever you heard.
Anyy/ay, one of ’em.”
“Yes?” I said. “About— yourself?”
“Self and other folk,” he replied,
w ith a grim smile. “O ther folk 1— aye,
thepe’s the devil o f I t l
I f It were
only myself, n o w !— hut there’s more
than one affected.”
He turned to the window and for a
moment or two sat staring fixedly and
In silence across the moor, stretching
away In the rapidly gathering twilight.
Curiosity got the better o f me, and
I broke In on his thoughts.
" I ’m all In the dark, M r. M azaroff,”
I said. “Am I to listen 1” He started
—then gave an emphatic nod.
“Aye I” he answered.
“You’re to
listen. H o lt, for I ’ve nobody else to
tell It to, and Pm wanting counsel on
It, and you're a sensible youngster.
I t ’s Just this—you saw the two ladies
that passed us by yesterday afternoon
when we were talking to the land
lord at his garden gate?”
I nodded an affirmative.
“ Aye, well I” he continued. “They
don’t know It, and nobody knows It,
only me. But It’s just this. Holt, my
lad— that’s my w ife and daughter 1”
I was smoking one of M r. Maza
roff’s prime cigars at the moment, and
when he said thia I started so violent
ly that It Jumped from between my
teeth and fell to the floor. It seemed
to me that a whole age— an eon, if
you like— elapsed in the mere act of
stooping, and recovering I t
And I
wondered at the calmness and banatlty
o f my reply when I aat upright again,
looking at him.
“Musgrave,” I said, quite steadily,
“Musgrave called tile elder lady Mrs.
Elphlostone, and the younger Mias
Merchlson— Miss Shells Merchlson."
“Musgrave here, Musgrave there I”
he retorted.
“H e knows no better
and no more. But I ’m telling you that
th a t’s my wife, laddie, and the lassie’s
my daughter, aud unless I see some
wny out o f the complications there’s
the devil and all to p ay!”
They« was a pause between ns then.
H e sat twiddling his big thumbs, and.
as ba had discarded the blue spec
tacles a slight cast in his eyes looked,
somehow, sinister. 1 began to tense
the mysterious In him, and to realize
th a t his was, to me, an unexplored
personality.
,
“I don’t understand.“ I said at la s t
" I ’m going to make you understand.
H o l t ” he answered. “This Is the way
o f it— yoo good-looking lassie's name
is Mercbison, sure enough.
And—
Elphlustoae though aba may call her
self, and ao doubt think she’s a right
to call herself—so is her mother’s
And—ao’s mine. M erchlson!"
“N at Mazaroff, then?” 1 exclaimed.
T v s a right to, th a t t o e / he «aM.
“l-egnl rijfht— aU correct and pswpsr-
IP s been roy legal name for many
years, and t ill remain eo. But I waa
horn Merchlson—and not ao far from
here, ¿00—and I waa married Merch-
Ison. And yon's M rs M ertUson. for
a ll she's m arried to Klphlnotone."
“ And I don't understand any more
n o w !” said L
“ Well, H o lt" he answered. “Til
m ake It ss plain as I can, and maybe
I t ’s not sack a tangle aa It seems whan
you get bold of one end o f the thread
and pull steadily a t It.
My father
and mother died when I was a
youngster, and a fte r that I lived with
my grandfather on his farm near Sel
kirk, across the border yonder. Then
he died, when I waa Just about two-
snd-twenty, and he le ft me all he had,
a tidy lot of money, and that, put to
what my parents had le ft me. made
me a pretty rich man. And 1 was
headstrong and Impetuous, and always
for having my own way, and th e rt was
nobody to keep me from having It,
nor from Indulging myself In any
whims that came into my bead. And
I came across a high-mettled girl that
waa pretty much like myself In that
respect and wa got wed In more than
the usual haste, and began to repent
as soon as we’d done l t l "
“ Why?" I asked.
“M a n !" he answered- “W e hadn’t
a taste In common! We’d nothing in
common except obstinacy and self-
w ill !
And we found we were the
worst pair to pull together that ever
was harnessed. 1 saw In less than a
year that thing« would never do—eo
I just took matters Into my own
bands.
I t wasn’t the way I ’d take
now, w ith a sober mind and more
knowledge of the world. But what I
did was this— I went to • law yer and
pledged him to secrecy. Then I real
ized all that I had— a nice lo ti— and
divided It Into two equal shares, and
made one fast to her fo r life —she’ll
have had It alw ays; never less. Holt,
than fifteen hundred pounds a year of
her own. And that done, and all secure
for her, I Just took my share and
cleared o u t"
“ So— you ran away from her?" I
suggested.
“I f you put It that way, I did,” he
assented candidly. “I t was the only
thing to do. There'd have been un
pleasantness, otherwise. A silent and
quiet departure— the only thing for It,
In my jud gm ent”
“And— the child?— the girl we saw
yesterday afternoon?" I asked, a fte r a
pause. “Was she born then?”
“No I" he answered w ith emphasis.
“ She wasn't 1 I f she had been, maybe
I'd never have gone— Indeed, I ’m sure
now I wouldn’t hav« gone. But she
was neither born, nor did I know she
was likely to be born. She came eight
months a fte r I ’d le f t "
“You heard o f I t then?” I suggested.
“Never knew of It till today I" he
exclaimed.
“O f court«, Mrs. Elphinstone— as
she’s known here— believes you to be
dead?” 1 said. “T h a t goes without
saying.”
“Oh, to ba s u re !” ha answered.
"She married this Elphinstone a few
years back, Just before he bought this
Marrusdale Tow er estate. Aye, she
believes me dead as Adam— aud here
I ’m alive I”
“ W hat are you going to do?" I
asked.
“ W hat would you do, yourself.
Holt?” he replied, anxiously.
“T ell
me your plain opinion, m a n !— r i l not
be offended at anything you say.”
“1 think I should Just go awny, say
ing nothing," said L “ A fte r all, you
left her. And— I f you reveal yourself.
It’ll mean breaking up w hat’s probably
a satisfactory settlem ent M r. Elphln-
stone and the— ”
“Oh, by all accounts, they suit each
other as well as we suited each other
111!” he broke In. "Aye. this settlement’s
all rig h t But— the girl'« my daugh
ter."
“ She’s never known yoo, M r. Maza
roS,” I remarked.
H is bronzed cheeks reddened at th a t
and he shook his bead.
“ You’re rig h t H o lt yoa’re right I”
he said, almost humbly. “And It’s my
own fa u lt W ell— up to now, nothing’s
happened. Nobody knows but your
self.”
“ A fte r all these years It would be
something o f a startling revelation,”
I observed. “I t needs some reflection.
And— ” bnt then a new Idea struck
me. and I regarded him doubtfully.
“I suppose. If It came to I t you’d have
to prove that— "
“T hat Sulim M azaroff la Andrew
Merchlson.” he interrupted. “Oh, that
can be dona. There's the cast In my
eye, and a birthm ark on my right arm,
and there’s papers and people— not
just at band, to ba sure, but findable
—that ran substantiate all t h a t ”
“How came you to take such an un
usual name?” I ventured to ask him
H e laughed softly, as If the reminis
cence pleased atm.
" I ’ll tell you," be answered. "When
I first went off. It was to India. I
knocked about there a good deal, and
in the Persian gulf, and In adjacent
parts. Then I went fu rth er south—to
Durban and thence Into the Interior
—the diamond districts. And In Dur
ban 1 foregathered w ith an old man of
like taste« to mine— In fact, he and
I lived together and traded together.
Ills name waa Mazaroff, and be left
me all Ida money— no little —on <-oo<ll
tlon I took IL
Bo I did— why not?
At that tim e I ’d uo Intention of ever
coming back to England again. And
now— there’s the situation 1”
“ What are yoa going to do sbonl
I t F I asked.
“1 don’t know,” he answered frank
ly. "Nothing In a harry. And aa I
say, nobody knows but you and roe
T here’s uo fear of roy being recog
sized. I*ve talked to a dozen peop'e
today who knew me In tbs old days
and In my bins spectacles they hadn’t
the least Idea as to who I really was.”
He got up then, and went out, to
stroll about the front o f the Inn,
alone. T hat night he said no more on
the subject of hie revelations, nor did
he mention the matter In the morning.
We spent most of that day In motor
ing to some ruins twenty miles a w a y :
when we returned In the evening there
was a good deal o f business being
done at the Inn— men were returning
In numbers from a fair. A fte r din
ner, M r. Mazaroff, rem arking to me
that he wanted to have a good think
all by himself, crossed over to the
open moor and strolled away across
the heather. I never saw him again
—alive.
I went out myself soon afterw ard,
and was out until past nine o'clock,
when I returned to the Inn. H e had
not come back. Nor had be come at
ten— and when eleven struck from the
old grandfather clock In the stone
walled hall I sought out Musgrave
and his wife, seated at their supper
table a fte r the tolls o f an unusually
busy evening.
The landlord and landlady were not
Inclined to any uneasiness or alarm.
During our forty-eight hour«* stay
they had discovered that M r. Masaroff
“ How Came You to T ake 8uch an
Unusual Name?" I Ventured to
Ask Him.
was, as they put It, an affable and
friendly gentleman, Inclined to socia
bility— th eir present opinion was that
he bad dropped In at o m of the moor
land houses, and was still there, com
fortably chatting. But when twelve
o'clock sounded, and be was still ab
sent, Musgrave’s face lengthened, and
he began to talk about the foolishness
of going out In the dusk and dark In
strange places.
“T h e re ’s places he
could fall over In the dusk, and there's
others—bog-land— that ha could sink
Into before he knew where he was,
dark or lig h t
Them that doesn’t
know these moors shouldn't wander
about 'em, a fter dark."
Musgrave got lanterns for Webster,
me and him self; we went out on the
moor and dispersed In different direc
tions, listening always fo r any cry of
distress.
We were out la that way until a
fain t gray light began to show beyond
the eastern h ills : a t that we went
back to the Inn.
Nona of us had
beard or seen anything.
Webster and I got some food and
hot coffee, and went out again— he
one way, 1 the other. M ine took me
toward the dawn.
And suddenly I
came face to face w ith the girl of
Youth*« Freemasonry
Shelia waa sitting by one of the
raed-frlnged pools that lay amongst
the heather and the moss
Uncon
scious o f any presence save that of a
solemn-eyed spaniel who sat at her
aid«, the had drawn off her shoes and
stockings and was dabbling her feet
and ankles In the dark waters.
T h e spaniel caught sight of me and
barked. H is mistress looked hastily
In my direction, saw me, seemed to
realize that she had aeen me before,
and though she Blushed at being
caught In a somewhat mystifying situa
tion, accepted it calmly.
She gave
me a friendly nod— and at the same
time began to put on her footgear. I
purposely remained In the rear until
she jumped to her feet, faced me, and
laughed, pointing to the pool.
“There's a superstition about that
well,” she said, without preface or
hesitation. “They say that If you dip
your feet In It six times, within an hour
of sunrise, any time between Michael
mas and Martinmas, you'll live happy
ever after. So— I was trying It.”
“I hope It'll come true,” I said. “ As
for myself, Fm not at all happy Just
now."
A look of concern came Into her
eyes.
“No?” ahe responded. “Why?"
“I believe you saw me, yesterday—
no, the day before— near the Wood
cock, w ith an elderly gentleman?” I
aald. “You went by. Well, he's miss
ing— lost! H e went ont from the Inn,
last night, a fte r dinner, alone, aud he’s
never returned.
You know these
parts? Are there place»—”
"There are many dangerous placet,”
she interrupted hastily. “Have you
searched?”
“Several o f us, all night," 1 an
swered. “ We've, seen nothing, heard
nothing o f him.”
“Your father?" ahe asked, eyeing
me h alf sympathetically.
“ No— a friend, w ith whom I'm trav
eling,” I replied. “I ’m aw fully anxious
about him. I t was uuusually dark last
evening, and I ’m atratd he’a come to
harm— fallen over something or Into
something.” I then told her Mr. Maza-
roff’s nume and my own.
“ I wonder If our people— gamekeep
ers, you know— have heard anything?
I f you’d walk w ith me to the house— ”
She pointed across the moor to where
the gables and chimneys of Marras-
dale tower showed above the trees.
“W e might hear something there,”
she continued. “ We can go there In a
few minutes.”
W e came before long to Marraadale
tower. In the courtyard, talking to a
man In velveteens, we met M r. Elphln-
stone, a ta ll, thin, gray-halred studious
looking man, who glanced at me won-
deringly over the top of an unusually
large pair o f spectacles.
His step
daughter led me up tcxhlm.
“This Is M r. Holt— M r. Mervyn
Holt,” she said. “H e and a friend of
his, M r. Mazaroff. an elderly gentle
man, have motored from London, and
are stuylng a few days at the Wood
cock. Lust night M r M azaroff went
out alone on the moors, and he's never
returned.
M r. H o lt wants to find
him ; lie’s anxious.”
M r. Elphinstone, who looked to me
to be one o f those men who take In
things very leisurely, nodded, and
glanced at the man In velveteens.
“A gentleman lost on the moor, eh?”
he auid. “ U h ! rtirk e r— go and In
quire amongst the men In the stables
and In the gardens. U ral Lost all
night, eh? Dear mel Er— won’t you
come In, M r.—er— ”
“M y name Is Holt, sir,” I said,
prompting his abseut-miudedneg».
“ Holt, eh?” he answered, w ith a
sudden gleam of interest. “ U ral
1
was at Merton with a man of that
name. H e and I were great rowing
men.
H e ’a vicar of some country
parish In Buckinghamshire now, I be
lieve— long since we foregathered.”
“I think you are speaking of mj
father, M r. Elphlnstnr.e," I remarked.
“H e was at Merton, aud he’s now vicar
o f Chelllngham, near Aylesbury.”
H e turned and gave me his hand,
shaking mine. In evident high delight.
“Bless m e!" he exclaimed.
“ Now
Just Imagine l t l This Is a great pleas
ure. Come In— come In I— this la ex
cellent I”
(TO BB CONTINUED)
Ruins of Ancient City Long Hidden in
A fte r being hidden tor centuries In
a tangled-up mass of jungle, the an
cient city of Cedi, has eoroe to light
only SO miles from modern Mombasa.
Professor Pleure, o f the University
college of Wales, who has been visit
ing Kenya colony w ith the members
of the British association, believes
that Oedl, known In Kenya as the
“buried city,” la o f Persian origin and
at least six hundred years old. T he
ruins disclose a fine Arabic writing,
especially In the mooqnes and tombs.
I ’rnfenaor Pleura thinks that Oedl
wonld well repay Investigations by
archeological and ethnological experts.
He does not believe these would be
d lfllng t In View of 0 * profusion of
Aetkeus* Creati«««
Rook characters are our brother«,
beniose o ften they ara more ourselves
than we ran ever he. Being bone and
sinew of rani men, they ara real men
themselves and partake of the Inex
plicable character of that relation. In
times o f action, material er mental,
few 'would went to be characters In
books. but at other tiroes few there are
«ho would not he w illing to change
place«.— Boston Herald.
Jungle
evidence provided by the ruins. The
town was known to tribes on the*
coast tor many years, but It wsa
shunned by them because they re
garded It as being haunted by the
spirits o f the dead, who wreak special
vengeance on Intruders. The lighting
o f a Are in the precinct« of the ruins
waa considered particularly dangerou,
by the negroes, even I f the fire wc
only a cigarette.
F ro m Bed to W ere«
A rich old Chinese mandarin ha
two wives. Bald the first to him not
day: " I wish you had not so many
gray hairs. People Jeer at me and
call me an old man's darling.” “in
that esse, my dear,” he said. “I will
pull them all out.” And he did so
Shortly afterw ard« his second w ife
came to him complaining that now he
had only black hairs on Ida he-id. she
looked, by contrast, a horribly old
woman. “Don’t worry my dear. I will
pull them out." he anid acoflilngty
Bnt when he had palled out all the
gray and all the hluck hairs 'be man
darin
wsa cnmp'etely h-ld.
Anc
neither of bis wives would have aa>
more to do with him.
1,000 Eyes Too Few
Gliding, New Sport
Lindbergh’s New Glider
Mormonism’s 100th Birthday
T Agua Caliente, Mexico, and Just
north, across the border In San
Diego, U. S. A., they show and tell you
more Interesting things than 1,000 eyes
and 1,000 ears could see and hear ad»
quately.
On this new and am azingly success
ful resort, created almost over night,
many m illions have been spent to
create conditions th a t w ill compete w ith
anything In Europe.
The
upsets of
A
Sixteen miles from San Diego, one of
A m erica’s moat beautiful cltlea, the
Am erican finds here everything he
would find a t Deauville, Monte Carlo,
Nice or any resort In Europe. T h e
place la w ell managed, well policed,
well patronised.
This place Is e xtraordin arily beauti
ful, w ith a perfect hotel, golf, all sports,
hot sulphur and mud baths, famous In
Astec days, and the visitor Is In old
Mexico, a land aa foreign to him and
aa fascinating aa though he were In
Spain, yet near to bla own land, no
ocean to cross.
Below thia place, the peninsula of
Low er C alifornia, property of Mexico,
stretches for 1,000 miles. T h e w ealth
of th a t peninsula cannot be exagger
ated. Its beauty cannot be described.
H ig h rock walls, going straight
down to the ocean. Innum erable she!
tered coves, w ith w hite »and beaches,
great flocks o f sheep on the round
green hills, herds of seals ploughing
through the w ater close to shore, quail
Innum erable, a wonderful empire.
On Lindbergh Field, where L in d
bergh started bis Im m ortal flig ht,
F ra n k H aw ks gives an exhibition of
gliding, towed by a heavier than all
plane.
Sm iling cheerfully, h - alts In his long,
strongly-built g lid e r designed by F ra n k
Un, a parachute strapped to hia back,
for “ re g u la rity .” “ But,” says Hawks,
“a parachute la not needed in gliding.
You m ight as w ell come down w ith
your g ild er and land on top of that.”
P ilo t J. B. Jernlgin Jr. taxies his
plane along the sandy field, dragging
a ligh t steel cable 600 feet long. H aw ks
hitches on to the cable towed by the
airplane. T h e plane starts along the
ground dragging Haw ks, and soon both
are In the air, going 90 miles an hour.
H a w k s keeps his glider well above the
plane to avoid the a ir rush from Its
propeller.
All children «re «object to little
upsetA They come at unexpected
times. They seem twice as serious
in the dead of night But there’s
one form of comfort on which a
mother can always rely; good old
Castoria. This pure vegetable
preparation can’t harm the tiniest
infant Yet mild as it is, it soothes
a restless, fretful baby like nothing
else. Its quick relief soon sees the
youngster comfortable once more,
back to sleep. Even an attack of
Three Mothers Agree
W hen m other is tired, nervous or ill the
whole home is upset. For her family’s sake,
every m other wants to be well and strong.
These three women tell how Lydia E. Pink-
ham ’s Vegetable Compound helps them
to care for their families.
Mrs. H. Dolhondc,
6318 York St,
New Orleans, Louisiana
up. H a w k s drops the cable. Jernlgin
reels It in, and the graceful gilder goes
o ff on its own account, flying upward,
coming down, risin g again, banking,
turnin g on Its side. F in a lly coming
down to earth at H aw ks’ command
and landing more ligh tly than a swan
on w ater.
“Before my last baby waa
bom , I started taking Lydia
E. Pinkham’a Vegetable Com
pound. I got such good Jesuits
that I named her Catherine
Lydia. I have six older chil
dren and five grandchildren,
too. I am now taking the
Vegetable Compound again
because o f my age. I eat and
sleep hetter and 1 do all my
housework, and my washing.
I will do my best to answer
letters.’’
Lindbergh, who should know, says
the glid er w ill tra in thousands of young
flyers, w ith a m inim um of danger, and
teach experienced men how to build
better planes. In the factory where the
S p irit of St. Louis waa built, H aw ley
Bowlus, who superintended that con
struction, shows you a beautiful glider
Just finished for Lindbergh.
T h e new Lindbergh glider, pure
w hite, much lig h te r than any bird in
proportion to sise, and more graceful,
has In landing a ra tio o , 33 to 1. This
means that If Lindbergh were up In It
only 1,000 feet, he could glide 3,000 feet
in any direction before landing, and
w ithout any sustaining wind.
Mr a Harold Goodnow
36 Cane St.,
Fitchburg, Massachusetts
“I cannot praise your medi
cine enough. After my baby
came I was rundown. I had to
go to bed often through the
day. I took three bottles o f
Lydia E. Pinkham’a Vegetable
Compound and 1 felt like a
different woman. If any mother
has those tired feelings I advise
her to take Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound.”
T h e Boulder Dam employm ent Is as
sured. P rivate Individuals w ill prob
ably get the power. But cities near It
w ill a t least get the extra w ater supply
that a m illion more population w ill soon
demand. And the
Increased power
supply at presum ably low er prices w ill
stim ulate
the already
rem arkable
growth of Industries on this coast. T b s
people are cheerful here.
Relhem ber that this Pacific Coast Is
as much a sum mer resort as a w inter
resort.
Mrs. Lloyd R. Biasing«
115 So. O h io St.,
Anaheim, California
“After my baby came I waa
so nervous and tired that I felt
miserable. O ne day a booklet
was left at our door and after
reading it I decided to try Lydia
E. Pinkham’a Vegetable Com
pound. I am now on my fourth
bottle and I feel much stronger.
It has helped me in every way
and I feel sure that other
women in rundown condition
will pick up if they will only
take a few bottleA1’
On A p ril sixth, the Mormon Church
w ill be one hundred years old. P lu ral
m arriage has gone, but the church re
mains pow erful, w ith numbers increas
ing. a fte r a century o f struggle aud op
position. N e a rly one m illion Mormons
w ill celebrate the day, the main c e l»
bratlon a t S alt L ak e City, others all
over thia and nearly all European
countries, and In Mexico, A ustralia,
H a w a ii and the South Sea islands.
G erm any lost the war, but wins In
other directions. Recently the Germ an
Bremen, low ering the record acroes the
A tlantic, took the “blue ribbon” from
the British.
Now the N o rth Germ au Lloyd lin er
Europe bests the Bremen's record.
T h e Europe, n e g n lflc le n l 50,000-ton
ship, according to builders here and In
B rita in , would be too expensive for
A m erican or B ritish lines. T he Invest
ment of 960,000,000 could not be profit
able.
Germ any, beaten, la able to d o'w haf
the w inners of the w ar cannot do.
<©, lew, bv Km* f t * « * SvaZicMe b M
soothing influence of Castoria.
Keep Castoria in mind, and keep
« bottle in the house—always.
Give a few drops to any child
whose tongue is coated, or whose
breath is bad. Continue with
Castoria until the child is grown I
'Every drugstore has Castoria ; the
genuine has Chas. H. Fletcher's
signature on the wrapper.
O d d itU z in M izhap
Kept on Edge
An automobile driven by a Norway
A u nt M a rla — And now that you're
married, I suppose you're glad to be (M ain e) man sideswiped another
finished forever w ith shorthand and car, cutting off the mudguards and
typew riting.
running board, shot through a fenc^
N ew Bride— No, I get lots of prac plunged dowu a ten-foot embanlp
tice. W hy, Henry talks a hundred ment to the icy covering of a la k ^
and fifty words a minute In his tipped over and was bent and twist»
sleep!
ed beyond repair. But neither tb«
windshield nor a headlight or win*
dow was broken; the driver waa not
“ C u tty S e rk "
C u tty Is Scotch and North English Injured and not a drop o f coffea
fo r our word “short” and sark la a filling the bottom of a dinner bucket
Scotch and English dialectical word was spilled.
tor shirt.
It Isn't poverty that makes people
A “choke circuit" deslved by an 8teal hotel towels.
engineer In France silences arc
A w rite r finds so many of bis beat
lamps, so that they can be used In
thoughts are useless.
the production o f talkin g pictures.
T h ree thousand five hundred feet
Few religions of modern tim es have
lasted, w ith strength Increasing, for
so long a tim e. T he Shakers and Quak
ers have almost vanished, although the
la tte r are represented In the W h ite
House. Thousands of religions bave
been started, few last long.
eolie, or diarrhea, yields to the
LYDIA E. PIN K H A M ’S T E X T BOOK
64 pages o f valuable information. Free to women.
Kama . ~
coupon to
Lydia E. Pinkhaul
Medicine Co.
Lynn, Maae.
. ►.
M. . . . . . . . . . .
Address
I •
«
Mt
Lydia 1- P h ik h an i’s
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t>, • U i '-.Y M t üc