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About The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 23, 1901)
The Doctor's flilenima By Hesba , t CIIAPTEIX I. I think I was on m arl; mud a I could be; nearer niftdnesi, I believe, than 1 ill nil ever be again. Three week of it bad driven me 'o the very verge of dea peratiou. I cannot any here what bad brought me to this pas, for 1 do not know Into wlirsu hands these pngea may fall; but I bad made up uiy mind to per 1st In a certain line of conduct which 1 firmly believed to be right, whilst those who bad authority over me were reio lutely bent upon ninking me aubnilt to their will. The conflict had been suing on, more or less vluleutly, for months; now I hail come very near the end of It. I felt that I must either yield or go mad. There was no chance of my dying; I was to strong for that. It had been raining all the day long. My eyes hail followed the course of soli tary drop rolling down the window panes nutil my head ached. There was noth ing within my room less dreary than without. I was In London, but In what part of London I did not know. The house was situated in t highly respecta ble, though not altogether fashionable quarter; as I judged by the gloomy, ijo notouous rows of buildings which I could see from my windows. The people who passed up and down the streets ou line days were well-to-do persons, who could ( afford to wear good and handsome clothes. The rooms on the third floor my rooms, which I had not been allowed to leave since we entered the house, three weeks before were very badly furnished. The carpet waa nearly thrcudbare, and the curtains of dark red moreen wero very dingy. My bedroom opened upon a dismnl back yard, where a dog in a ken nel howled dejectedly from time to timo, and rattled bis chain as if to remind me that I was a prisoner like himself. 1 bad no books, no work, no music. It was a drenry place to pass a dreary time In; and my ouly resource was to pace to and fro to and fro from one end to an other of those wretched rooms. A very slight sound grated on my ear; it was the hateful click of the key turn ing In the lock. A servant entered, car rying in a tray, upon which were a lamp and my tea such a meal as might be prepared for a school girl in disgrace. She came up to me, as it to draw down the blinds. "Leave them," I said; "I will do it my self by and by." "He's not coming home to night," said a woman's voice behind me, in a scoffing tone. I could see her in the mirror without turning round. A handsome woman, with bold black eyes, and a rouged faco, which showed coarsely in the ugly look ing glass. She was extravagantly dress ed, and not many years oldor than my self. I took no notice whatever of her, but continued to gae out steadily at the lump-lit streets and stormy sky. "It will bo no better for you when he Is at home," she sold fiercely. "lie hates you; he swears so a hundred times a duy, and he is determined to break your proud spirit. We shall force you to knock un der aoouer or later. What friends have you got anywhere to take your side2 If you'd mude friends with me, my fine lady, you'd have found it good for yourself; but you've chosen to make me your en emy, and I'll make him your enemy." "I set my teeth together and gave no Indication that I bad heard one word of her taunting speech. My silence serv ed to fan her fury. "Upon my soul, madam," she almost shrieked, "you are euough to drive me to murder! I could beat you. Ay! and I would, but ftur him. So then three weeks of this hasn't broken you down yet! We shall try other means to-morrow." She came up to where I stood, shook her clenched band lu my face and flung herself out of the room, pulling the door violently after her. I turned my head round. A thin, fine streak of light, no thicker than a thread, shone for an in stant. My heart stool still, and then beat like a hammer. I stole very softly to the door, and discovered that the bolt had slipped beyond the boop of the lock. The door was open for me! I had been on the alert for such a chance ever since my imprisonment be gan. My sealskin hut and Jacket lay ready to my band in a drawer. I had not time to put ou thicker boots; "and it was perhaps essential to the success of my Sight to steal down the stairs in the soft velvet slippers I was wearing. 1 stepped us lightly as I could. I crept past the drawing room door. The heavy house door opened with a grating of the hinges; but I stood outside it in the shel ter of the portico free, but with the rain and wind of a stormy night In October beotiug against me. I darted straight across the muddy road and then turned sharply round a corner. On I tied breathlessly. As I Brew nearer to shop windows an omulbus driver, see ing me run toward him, pulled up his horses in expectation of a passenger. I sprang in, caring very little where It might carry me, so that I could get quick ly euough and far enough out of the reach of my pursuers. There had been no time to lose, and none waa lost. The omnibus drove on again quickly, and no trace of me was left. The omnibus drove Into a station yard, and very passenger, inside and out, pre pared to alight. I lingered till the last. The wind drove across the open space In a strong gust sis I stepped down upon the pavement. A man had Just descended from the mof, and was paying the con ductor; a tall, burly man, w earing a thick waterproof coat, and a seaman's hat of oilskin, with a long flap lying over the back of his neck. Ills face was brown and weather beaten, but he had kindly looking eyes. "Uoin down to Southampton?" said the conductor to him. "iVy, and beyond Southampton," he an swered. "You'll havea rough night of It," said the conductor. "Sixpence, if you please, miss." I offered an Australian sovereign, a pocket piece, which he turned over curi ously, asking me If I had no smaller cUange. He grumbled when I answered no, and the granger who had not passed on. turned pftasantly to me. "You have no change, mam'ielle?" he asked slowly, as If Kugllsh was not his ordinary speech. "Very well! are you going to Southampton?" "Yes. by the next train," I answered, deciding upon that course without hesita tion. "So am I, mam'ielle," he said, raising hand to his oliskln cap; "I will pay this sixpence, and yon can give it me again when you buy your ticket is the otllee." I smiled gladly but gravely. I passed on into the station. At the ticket office tliey changed my Australian gold piece ai I I sought cut my seaman friend to re turn the sixpence he had paid for me. I tlMinked him heartily. P Stretton He put me Into a compartment where there were only two ladies, touched hlf hat and ran away to a second-class car riage. In about twe hours or more my fellow passengers alighted at a large, half-deserted station. A porter cam up to me as I leaned my bead through the window, "(Jolng on, miss?" he asked. "Oh, yes!" I answered, shrinking back Into my corner seat. He remained onj the step whilst the train moved ou at slackened pace, and then pulled up. He fore me lay a dim, dark scene, with little specks of light twinkling here and there, but whether on sea or snore I could not tell. Immediately opposite the train stood the black bulls an I masts aod fun nels of two steamers, with a glimmer of lanterns ou their decks. The porter opened the door for me. "You've only to go on board, miss," h said, "your luggage will be seen to all right." And he hurried away to open the doors of other carriages. I stood still, utterly bewildered, with the wind tossing my bnlr about, and the rain beating In sharp stinging drops upon my face and hands. It must have been close upon midnight. Every one was hurrying past me. I began almost to re pent of the desperate step 1 had taken. At the gangways of the two vessels there were men shouting hoarsely, "This way for the Channel Islands!" '"'his way for Havre and Taris!" To which boat should I trust myself and my fate? A mere accident decided It. Near the fore part of the train I saw the broad, tall figure of my new friend, the seaman, making his way across to the boat for the Channel Islands; and I made up my "SHOOK II Ell CLENCHED mind to go on board the same steamer, for I had an Instinctive feeling that he would prove a real friend. I went down immediately Into the ladies' cabin, which was almost empty, and chose a berth for myself lu the darkest corner. It was not fur from the door, and presently two other ladies came down, with a gentle man and the captain, and held an anxious parley close to me. "Ia there any danger?" asked one of the ladles. "Well, I cannot say positively there will be no dunger," answered the cap tain; "there's not danger enough to keep me and the crew in port; but It will be a very dirty night in the Channel. Of course we shall use extra caution, and all that sort of thing. No; I cannot aay I expect any great danger." "But It will be awfully rough?" said the gentleman."' It was very stormy and dismal as soon as we were out of Southampton water, and in the rush and swirl of the Chan nel. It did not alarm me so much as it distracted my thoughts. My hasty escape had been so unexpected, so unhoped for, that it had bewildered me, and it was almost a pleasure to He still and listen to the din and uproar of the sea. Was 1 myself or no? Was this nothing more than a very vivid dream, from which I should awaken by and by to find myself a prisoner still, a creature as wretched and friendless as any that the streets of London contained? I watched the dawn break through a little porthole opening upon my berth, which had beeu washed and beaten by the water all the night long. The stew ardess had gone away early in the night. So I was alone, with the blending light of the early dawn and that of the lamp burning feebly from tho ceiling. I sat up In my berth and cautiously unstitched the liulng of my Jacket. Here, months ago, when I first began to foresee this emergency, and whilst I was still allow ed the use of my money, I had concealed one by one a few five-pound notes. 1 counted them over, eight of them; forty pounds In all, my sole fortune, my only means of living; True, I had a diamond ring and a watch and chain, but how diffi cult and dangerous it would be for me to sell either of them! Practically my means were limited to the eight notes of five pounds each. As the light grew I left my berth and ventured to climb the cabin steps. The fresh air smote upon me almost pain fully. The eawas growing brighter, and glitte ed here and there in spots where the sunlight fell upon It. I stayed on deck lu the biting wind, leaning over the wet bulwarks and gazing across the desolate sea till my spirits sank like lead. I was cold, "ttnd hungry, and miserable. How lonely I was! how poor! with neith er a home nor a friend in the world! a mere castaway upon the waves of this troublous life! "Mam'ielle is a brave sailor," said a voice behind me, which I recognized as my seaman of the night before; "but we shall be lu port soon." "What port?" I asked. "St. Peter-port," e answered. "Mam' ielle, then, does not know our Islands?" "No," I said. "Where Is St Peter port?" "In Guernsey," he replied. "If you were going to land at St. Peter-port I might be of some service to you." I looked at him steadily. His voice was a very pleasant one, full of tones that went straight to my heart. His face was bronzed and weather-beaten, but his deep-set eyes had a steadfast, quiet pow er in them, and his mouth had a pleas ant curve about it. He looked a middle aged man to me. He raised his cap as my eyes looked straight into his, tad a faint smile flitted across his grave face. "I want," I said suddenly, "to find a place where I can live very cheaply. I have not much money, and I must make it last a long time. Can you tell me of such place?" mimmmk "You would want place lit for lady?" he said. "No," I answered. "I would do all my own work. What sort of place do you and your wife live in?" "My poor little wife is deid." he an swered. "We live In Hark, my mother and I. I am a fisherman, but I have also a little farm. It Is true w nave one room to spare, which might do for mam' ielle; but the Island Is far away, and in the winter Sark Is too mournful." "It will be Just the place I want," I said qulcklii; "It would suit me exactly. (Jan you let me go there at once? A' ill you take me with you?" "Mam' ielle," be replied, smiling, "the room must be made ready for you, and I must apeak to my mother. If Col sends us fair weather I will come back to St. Peter-port for you In three days. My name Is Tardif. You can ask the people In Peter port what sort of a man Tardif of the Havre Uosselln Is." "I do not want any one to tell me what sort or a man you are," 1 said, holding out my hand. He took It with an air of friendly protection. "What Is your name, mam'telle?" he Inquired. "Oh! my name Is Olivia," I said. I went below, Inexpressibly satisfied and comforted. What it was In this man that won my complete, unquestioning con fidence, I did not know; but his very presence, and the sight of his good, trust worthy face, gave me a erase of security such as I have never felt before or since. Surely God bad sent him to me In my great extremity. CHAPTER II. iooklng back upon that time now It is past, and has "rounded Itself luto that perfect atar I saw not when 1 dwelt there in," It would be untrue to represent my self as in any way unhappy. At times I wished earnestly that I had been born among the people with whom I had now come to live. Tardif led a somewhat solitary life himself, even iu this solitary island, with Its scanty population. There was an ngly church, but Tardif and his mother did not frequent it. They belonged to little knot of dissenters, who met for worship in a small room, when Tardif generally took the lead. For this reason HAND IN MY FACE. a sort of coldness existed between him and the larger portion of his fellow isl anders. But there was a second and more Im portant cause of estrungemeut. He hnd married an Englishwoman many years ago, much to the disappointment of his neighbors; and siuce her death he bad held himself aloof from all the good wom en who would have been glad enough to undertake the task of consoling him for her loss. Tardif, therefore, was left very much to himself in bis isolated cot tuge; and bis mother's deafness caused her also to be no very great favorite with any of the gossips of the islund. I learned afterwards that Tardif had said my name was OUivicr, and they Jumped to the conclusion that I belonged to a family of that name in Guernsey; this shielded me from curiosity. I was nobody but a poor woman who was lodg ing In the spare room of Tardif's col tage. I set myself to grow used to their mode of life, and if possible to become so useful to them that when my money was all spent they might be willing to keep me with them. As the long, dismal nights of winter set iu, with the wind sweeping acress the Island for several days together with a dreary, monotonous moan which never ceased, I generally sat by their fire; for I had nobody but Tar dif to talk to. and now and then theru arose an urgent need within me to listen to some friendly voice, and to hear my own in reply. March came !n with all the strength and sweetness of spring. I went out frequently to the field near the church. I was sitting there one morning. Tardif was going to fish, and I had helped him to pack his basket. I could see him get ting out of the harbor, and he had caught a glimpse of me, and stood up lu his boat, bare headed, bidding me good by. 1 began to sing before he was quite out of hearing, for he paused upon his oars list ening, and had given me a Joyous shout and waved his hat round bis head, when he was sure it was I who was singing. By 12 o'clock I knew my dinner would be ready, and I had been out in the fresh air long enough to be quite ready for it. Old Mrs. Tardif would be looking out for me Impatiently, that she might get the meal over, and the things cleared away, and order restored in her dwell ing. (To be continued.) Her Father Was) Not a Liar. There Is a little girl in Detroit whose passion for the truth under all circum stances embarrassed her father very much the other day. Not long ago he lost a ulgh-salarledlaee in a business house because of Its absorption by a trust, and In the evening denounced all persons connected with trusts as thieves and robbers. But the trust found that It needed him, and he was soon holding his old place, In addition to a good block of stock. It was no ticed that the little girl wrs deeply im pressed with the Incident, and looked at her father doubtlngly when he was horn. One evening there was com pany at the house, and the host be came Involved In a heated political de bate with a peppery guest. The form er made a statement which the latter flatly denied. "Why, my dear man," laughed the host, "you don't mean to call me a liar?" "No, he don't," declared the little one. as she sprang In front of the visitor and glared at him with flaming eyes, "and I won't have It. My papa Is a robber and a thief, but be Is no liar!" The explanation was soon secured from tbe child, and the hilarity follow ing the expose was the joy of the even ing. New York Tribune, SOME STAGE FORTUNES. Leading Actors Are Affluent Hales llicy Ars (penclUiriru. The uctor rlchcxt In bis direct earn ings is Joseph Jefferson, snys Every body's Magazine, lie bus driiwu very large audiences during more than forty years, the plays lie presents cost him nothing Id royalties to their utitbors, his companion nre moderate In Hie pay roll, be divides with no partner and his share of the gross receipts leaves no large port Ion to the theater In which he appears. Lotta Crubtree Is much wealthier thnti lie, but through the In crease of the capital with which she re tired from the stage years ngo. So Is Sol Smith Kusscll, who bus Invested his savings fortunately. William Crane is another who bus turned some of his Income Into accumulation. IViinimi Thompson would be as well off as ltus sell or Crane If lie had not lost a con siderable part of the heavy prollts of his tours. An actor who made; a great (leal and then Hunk It Is Nell Burgess. The same thing Is true of Edward Ilarrlgau. The Irish comedians, Andrew Mack and t'haiiiicey Olcott, may be put down at f-'0,i(lO each for the season, their man agers milking as much more. Peter F. I (alley Is thereabouts. Tho same fig ures will do for those Gorman mimics, Louis Mann aiul the Roger brothers, Weber mid Fields, two more of tho German dialect actors, have a joint for tune of ,f -loo.niki, made by nttentlou to the business side of their efforts. To get back Into the Irreproachably legitimate Held there are ninny stars of good degree- such as Helena Mod Joska. James (('Neil, Henry Miller, Sa rah Cowell Le Moyne, James K. Hack ett, Louis James, Kathryn Kidder and Robert Mantcll -w hoin the managers do not regard m "moneymakers." Yet they clear $10,ihi apiece annually on the average. That isn't so bad for a calling once despised and Ill-paid. There are a dozen to twenty actors and ac tresses getting the ciiunl of tlwit In salary with resident or traveling com panies, with no uncertainly about It, but there's the distinction of starring to take into account. Deposited His Stolen Money. "About the strangest case that ever came to my notice," remarked the siietiff of Madison County, Indiana, to the Louisville Courier-Journal, "was that of a young man who stole $2,SHJ and planted it with the purpose of sim ply laying up in prison and coming out that much to the good. This fellow took tUe money from a grocery iu broad daylight, and was arrested a few hours later without resistance. At the trial he pleaded guilty, declined to accept the services of a lawyer, also refused to tell where lie had hid the money, and was sentenced to imprisonment for four years. "As I was taking him down to the train he asked me If I would go with him to a certain street. He requested it as a favor and I did so. Arriving at a shady spot of a somewhat unfre' (piented street he stooiied down and pulled up n loose brick iu the pave ment, under which Was the $2,800 In paper money, Just as It had come out of the bank. " 'What are you going to do vitli that?' I asked, my lirst thought being that he Intended to return it to the man from whom he had stolen It. Of course I bad no authority in the matter, for the reason that the money was his own and sentence had been passed upon hi in. Well, sir, that fellow Insisted on my going to the bank with him, and there he deposited tho $'800, where It remains to this day, drawing interest and waiting his pleasure vvljen be shall have served sentence and be free to enjoy the profits of his prison term. Such cases are not uncommon." Growing I'se of Private Cars. Private railway cars have always been associated in the popular mind with great wealth, but a plan has been developed which makes it possible for even a vaudeville actor or a business man In ordinary circumstances, or any body else reasonably well to do, who wishes to make a display or to enjoy the luxury of travel, to own a private car built according to his own specifi cations, according to the World's Work. A car-refitting company In New York city buys old Pullman coaches, tears the Inside furnishings out and refits them according to the wishes of Its cus tomers. Whatever kind of private car a man may wish he may order parlors, handsomely carpeted, sitting rooms, Sleeping compartments, smoking rooms all with equipment more or less per fect according as the price. And cars are refitted in this way and sold for prices varying from $1,000 to $13,000. Very handsome and servieecable cars have been built from the old "cast aways," and the man of moderate moans can travel privately and com fortably In a home of his own. It Is an Interesting evidence of American manufacturing thrift and of the growth of wealth. Generous Diet for the Tropics. "Experience shows," says Maj. G. W. Uuthers, of the Commissary Depart ment, '9bat the American soldier serv ing iu these islands needs the full army ration, Including the full allowance of fresh beef; his health cannot be main tained without it. In addition, his ap petite apparently craves sweets and acids." In this connection he men tions the demand for sauerkraut. Without abundance of nutritious food, he says, the health of an American can not be maintained in tho Luzon cli mate. The health of Filipinos living on American foods, he says, is much better than those living on native foods. Washington Tost. Feminine Charity. Miss Winters I have just been read ing an account of a woman of 3o who eloped with a young man of 20. Now, I wouldn't think of doing such a thing as that. Miss Summers No, of course not, dear. It would be so embarrassing when strangers asked If the young man was your son." Hard Lack. Mr. Saphedde I asked you for your daughter's hand once before, sir; but you said she was too young and I have waited Mr. Crusty You've waited too long, young man; she's too old now. Ohio State Journal. SU1T0SE WE SMILE. HUMOROUS PARAGRAPHS FROM THE COMIC PAPERS. Pleasant Incident Occurring the World Over-aylimthat Are Cheer ful to Old or Youaif-Funny Selec tion that Kverybodj Will Enjoy, Nell -May llrassey's awful mud. She sent an auoymous letter to the society editor aiinouiiiing that Miss May Bras scy Is one of the prettiest young women lu the uptown set. Belle And didn't he publish It? "Yes; but he headed It: 'Miss Bras sey says.' "Philadelphia Record. Precaution. Visitor-Why, Mrs. Foxy, do you put peas under your rug? Mrs. Foxy To keep young men from making declarations of love to "y daughter! Meggendorfer Blaetter. In Tin en I Stale. "Say, I thought you said they always give fresh vegetables at Unit farm. I've got my family there now, and we're all disgusted." "You surprise me. Perhaps they pro vide the best they can." "Not much. They don't even provide the best the canners can." Philadel phia Press. l'littlim It Night. "I didn't get home till dawn yester day morning." "What did your wife say?" "That's the wrong way to put it. What didn't she say?" BROTHERS IN Farmer Full up, you fool! The Motorist So's the car! Punch. Lukewarm Weather. "Pop, this is awfuly hot weather, ain't It?" quoth Georgle, the C-year-old family joy. "How do you like your weather?" "In summer I Imagine I like it cold; In winter I believe I like it hot. How ls it with you?" "Oh, I like mine lukewarm." New York Press. Past and Future. "The secret of happiness Is to live In the present." "That's so; but my wife Is always wanting money for to-morrow, and bill collectors, you know, won't let you forget yesterday." One Little Detail. "Are all the arrangements for your marriage with the count complete?" "Practically. All that remains is for him to give papa a statement o'f his lia bilities." Life. I A Deud Tramp. Mrs. Young wed (crying) Oh, Frank! Boo-hoo! Don't you kuow a big tramp ate one of the pies I baked this morn ing! Boo-hoo! Mr. Youngwed Oh, well, dear, Acre's lots of other tramp. Besides, the police won't blame you for it. ; No Chance to Besiat. "A picture peddler caught me yester day." "Well, you are getting feeble-niLnd-"He was peddling sUw scenes." a A Mean War STen Have. Mrs. Whyte Men have very poor judgment. Mrs. Browne Yes, but It doesn't do to tell them so. If you do they are apt to make sarcastic references to the time when t'aey got married. Somerville Journal. Propagators. "Mosquitoes are accused of propa gating disease, said Spykes. "Well, I know that they propagate Wty0 hi profanity," said Spokes. . Leading liltn On The summer girl and the summer young mau had exhausted all other subjects of conversation, whou they turned to the crops. "I guess tho com fields of tho West are lu a bad way on account of tho dry spell," said lie. "Yes, that seems to be the case," who assented, coyly; "but 1 don't think tho pop corn crop will be injured." After that what could lie do but pop? Pittsburg Commercial Cazette. Fact in tbe Case. "Madam." said the poor but honest lcetiiau, "you do me a great injustice when you say my bill Is more than It should be. To tell you the truth, I am actually selling Ice at a loss this sum mer." "Oh, I can readily believe that," re plied the indignant femnle. "Tho 10 ponnd fakes you cut for mo show a loss of fully three pounds each by the time you get them iu the refrigerator." A Other Fee II. Miles-1 have my doubts about that assertion of yours. CI lies -Well, you certainly have plen ty of room for doubt. Miles-1 low's that? Giles-There Is plenty of vacant space under your but. F.ur "Which would you rather, Tommy, be born lucky or rich?" asked Undo Trodway. "rteth," replied Tommy senteutlously. Overstocked. "I argued and argued with young Nibbs to have more self-esteem." "Was lie Influenced by your efforts?" "lie's got so much now that I can't stay around where lie is." Can of Her Cold. "Poor Emeraonla has a very, severe cold," said Mrs. Backbay to Mrs. Host ing. "Yes, the poor child took off her heavy-weight spectacles and put on her summer eyeglasses too soon," replied the latter. Critically. Polly Piuktights-The loading lady Is ill. Fanny Footlights-Critically? Polly Plnktlglits-1 suppose co. Didn't you see the way all the papers roasted her this inoruiug? Pbiladel phla Hccord. ADVERSITY. mare's bolting! Fault of Our Language. Myer Bifkius writes me that he sus tained a broken leg In a railway acci dent one day last week. (Iyer Well, that is certainly consid erate ou the part of Bifkius. Myer How's that ? Gyer The leg helped to sustain him before It was broken, therefore, it is no more than right that he should sus tain it uow. A Preclpltite VerdiC. "Pa, what is a philosopher?" "A philosopher, Jimniie, is a man who thinks he has got through being a fool." Coul ln't He Sacrifice I. Easterner Why don't you build your courthouse over there? Westerner-Why, If we did we'd have to cut that tree down. "Well, what of It?" "What of It? Man alive, that's the only tree in this neighborhood fit to lynch a man on!" Philadelphia Rec ord. Only Obstacle. "Here's a woman," said the Query Editor, "who asks: 'Should a married woman in writing a letter sign herself "Mrs. John Smith?" ' " Certainly," re plied the Snake Editor, "unless her name happened to be 'Mrs. William Jones.' "-Philadelphia Record. A FricnUy K timatr. Proud Mamma Don't you think little Harold's head is a great deal like his father's. Uncle Bill Yep. Nothing ou the out side and not much on the Inside. Balti more American. Water Keeps Men Alive. It Is no secret to medical men and physiologists that there Is a great deal of nourishment in water. Even that which is sterilized contains euough of solids to keep human being from dealh for a long time. During a prolonged fast the loss of weight is unusually rapid at lirst and decreases as time goes on. Death en sues when a certain percentage of the loss has been reached, and this per centage varies according to the original weight. Fat animals may lose half their weight, thinner ones perhaps two fifths, a man or woman of rather spnre build, weighing 143 ' pounds, might, therefore, lose about 55 pounds before succumbing. Children die after a fast of from three tifjive days, during which they have lost a quarter of their weight Healthy adults, however, have fasted 50 days when water has been taken. A German physician reports the case of a woman aged 47 years, who fasted for 43 days, taking water freely. She lost 44 pounds out of 143 pounds and died from exhaustion. The circulation of the blood Is san guinary revolution. GEO. P. CROWELL, (Sueii'Miir to K. I.. Smith. Oldeid f.ilnblHIii 'i lloime in I he valley. J IH-ALFR IN Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, Hardware, Flour and Feed, etc. This old ecUUiHlied bouse wi I con tinue to pav cash lor all its goods; it pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but does not have to divide with a partner. All dividends re made, with customers in the way of reasonable prices. Davenport Bros. Are runiiliiK their two mills, planer mid l-x luelnry, sml cn till or-ter lor Lumber Boxes, Wood and Posts OX SHOUT NOTIl'K. DAVIDSON FRUIT CO. MIIITKim OK HOOD RIVER'S FAMOUS FRUITS. KKHS UK TIIK Hood River Brand of Canned Fruits. MAM 'PAITI'KIKN I'K Boxes and Fruit Packages UKAI.KKN IN Fertilizers & Agricultural Implements. THE REGULATOR LINE. Dalles, Portland & Astoria Navigation Co. DALLES BOAT Leaves Oak Street Dock, Portland. 7 A. M. and 11 P. M. PORTLAND BOAT Leaves Dalles 7 A. M. and 3 P. M. Daily Ilxcept Sunday. STEAMERS Regulator, Dalles City, Reliance. WHITE COLLAR LINE. Sir. " Tahoma," IiHily Round Trli, except NiiiiiIhv. timi? ca ft I). Leave Portland... n.in. I I.enw Astoria 7n.ni. The Dalles-Portland Route Str. "Bailey Gatzert," Dully Round Trip, except Monday. vancouvkr, cascauk mh'Kh, sr. mak- TIN'H HI-KIXliS, lllilil) ItlVKK, W1IITK CAI.MO, l.YI.Kand TIIK DAI.I.KS. TI.MK CAKll. Leave l'ortrand...7 a. m. I Leave Thelinlli k t p.m. ArriveTliellallcs8p.ni. Arrivel'ortlmiil lup in. Meal I ha Very Beat. This route has the Krawlc-t scenic attractions ou etirth. Sunday tripM a IcAiliux feature. Landing and otticc, foot oi A liter street. Hoi li 'phones, Main :t."l, Portland, Or. K. W. CKICHTOV, Agent, Portland. JOHN M. HI, LOON, Agent. The Hallcs. A. .1. TAYLOR, Agent, Astoria. .1. ('. W VATT, Agent, Vancouver. , WOLKORD A W YKILS, Agls , While Kalnion. -PRATHliR & BARNES, Agents at Hood River Oregon Shopj line and union Pacific Bait Lake, Denver, Chicago Ft. Worth.Omaha, Portland special Kansas Uitv, Ht. Kpeeial Hija. in. Louis.CTiicuKOand 2:U6p.iu. East. Walla Walla Iwls- Bpokane ton,8pnkane,Min- Portland Flyer iieapolie.St. Paul, Flyer 8:27 p.m. Dululli. Milwan- 4:30 a.m. k ee , Ch icaguA: ba .4 1 Bait Lake, Denver, Mull and Ft. Worth. Omaha, Mail and Express Kansas City, Ht. Kxpresa ll;42p. in. Lnuis.l'iiieaKoaiid 5:4-' a.m. East. OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE FKOM I'OHTIANI). I.-Wp.m. All sailing datesj 4:00 p.m. nubject to change For Ban Francisco bail every 5 daya, Dally Columbia River 4:00 p. m Fx. Sunday Stitmeri. Ex. Bundar :0Ur. m. Baturday To Astoria and War 1H:0 p. ni. Landings. 6:4"ia.m. Wlllaattl Rlvar. 4:30 p.m. tx.Huuday Oregon City, New Ex. Sunday berg, Salem, Inde pendence A Way Landinga. 7:00 a m. WillaiMlte and Yam- 8:S0p.m. 1 uea., 1 hur. hill Rivers. Won., Wed. and Sat. ani pri. Oregon City, Day lon,& Way Land- I ing. 6:45a m. Wlllametta River. 4 80 p.m. Tn., lhni. Mon.. Wed. and bat. Portland to Corval- and Kri. Ii A Way Land- Inga. Lt. Riparla Snakx River. Lv.Lewlston 6:3&a in. Riparla to Lewlston a ni. dlttir daily A. L. CRAIG, General Passenger Agent. Portland n. J, BAG LEY, ACent, Hood River.