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.