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The Doetor’$ dilemma
By Hesba Stretton
"H-W- t » I HIH4* >
CHAPTER XVI.—(Continued.)
“You are looking rather low,” »he said
triumphantly—“rather blue, I might »ay.
1» there anything the matter with you.'
Your face is a« long as a fiddle. Perhap»
it U the sea that make« you melancholy. ’
"Not at all,” I answered, trying to
apeak briskly; “I am an old sailor. Per­
haps you will feel melancholy by-and-
by.”
Luckily for me, my prophecy was ful­
filled shortly after, for the day was rough
enough to produce uncomfortable aenea-
tions in those who were not old sailors
like myself. My tormentor was pros­
trate to the last moment.
When we anchored at the entrance of
the Creux. and the small boats came out
to carry us ashore, 1 managed easily to
secure a place in the first, and to lose
sight of her in the bustle of landing. As
soon as my feet touched the shore 1 start­
ed off at my swiftest pace for the Havre
Gosselin.
But 1 had not far to go. for at Vandin’s
Inn, which stands at the top of the steep
lane running from the Creux Ilarlior, 1
saw Tardif at the door. He came to me
instantly, and we sat down on a low
stone wall on tho roadside, but well out
of hearing of any ears but each others.
“Tardif,” 1 said, “has mam zelle told
you her secret?”
"Yes, yes,” he answered; “poor little
soul! and she is a hundredfold dearer to
me now than before. But mam aelle is
not here. She is gone!”
“Gone!” I ejaculated. 1 could not ut­
ter another word; but I stared at him
as if my eyes could tear further informa­
tion from him.
"Yes,” he said; “that lady came last
week with Miss Dobree, your cousin.
Then nmm’zelle told me all, and we took
counsel together. It was not safe for
her to stay any longer, though I would
have died for her gladly. But what could
be done? We knew she must go else­
where, and the next morning I rowed
her over to Peter-port in time for the
steamer to England. Poor little thing!
poor little hunted soul!”
"Tardif,” I said, “did she leave no
message for me?”
“Site wrote a letter for you,” lie said,
“the very last thing. She did not go to
bed that night, neither did I. I was go­
ing to Jose her, doctor, and she had
been like the light of the sun to me.
But what could I do? She was terrified
to death at the thought of her husband
claiming her. I promised to give the
letter into your own hands. Here it is;
It had been lying In his breast pocket,
and the edges were worn already. He
gave it to me lingeringly, as if loth to
part with it. The tourists were coming
up in greater numbers, and 1 made a
retreat hastily towards a quiet and re­
mote part of the cliffs seldom visited in
Little Sark.
There, with the sea, which had carried
her away from me, playing buoyantly
amongst the rocks, 1 read her farewell
letter. It ran thus:
"My Hear Friend—I am glad 1 can
call you my friend, though nothing can
ever come of our friendship nothing, for
we may not see one another ns other
friends do. 1 niu compelled to tlee away
again from this quiet, peaceful home,
w here you and Tardif have be« n so good
to me. I began to feel perfectly safe
here, and all at once the refuge fails
me. It breaks my heart, but I must go.
and my only gladness is that it will be
gooil for you. By aud by you will forget
me, ami return to your cousin Julia, an 1
be happy just as you once thought you
should be—as you would have been but
for me. You must think of me as one
dead. 1 am quite dead—lost to you.
"Good-by, my dear friend; good-by,
good-by 1
OI,I VIA.”
The lust line was written in a shaken.
Irregular baud, and her name was half
blotted out. as if a tear hail fallen upon
It. I remained there alone on the will
and solitary cliffs until it was time to
return to the steamer.
Tardif was waiting for me at the en­
trance of the little tunnel through which
the road pass«-» down to the harbor. lie
did not speak at first, but be drew out
of his i«ocket sn old leather pouch filled
with yellow papers. Amongst them lay
a long curling tress of shining hair. He
touched It gently as if it bail feeliug and
consciousness.
"You would like to have it, doctor?" he
■aid.
"Ay,” I answered, and that only. I
could uot venture upon another word.
CHAPTER XVII.
Throe mouths passed slowly away af­
ter my mother’s death. l>r. Dobree, who
was utterly inconsolable the first few
weeks, fell into all his old maundering,
philandering ways again, spending hours
upon his toilet, and paying devoted at­
tentions to every passable woman who
came acroM his path. My temper grew
like touchwood; the least spark would set
It a blase. I could not tuke such things
in good part.
We had l«een at daggers drawn for a
day or two, he ami 1, when one morning I
was astonished by the appearance Of
Julia in our consulting room, soon after
my father, having dressed himself elabo
rstely. had quitted the house. Julia’s
face was ominous, the upper lip very
straight, and a frown upon her brow.
“Martin,” she began in a low key, "I
am come to tell you something that fills
me with shame aud anger. 1 do not know
how to contain myself. I could never
have believed that I could have been so
bliml ami foolish. But It seems as If 1
were dvomeil to lie deceived ami disap-
pointe«l on every hand I who wonlil not
deceive or disappoint anybody in thed
worl. I de.-lare it makes mo quite ill
to think of It. Just look at uiy hands,
how they tremble.”
"Your nervous system is out of order,"
1 remarked.
"It la the world that ia out of order."
ahe said petulantly; "1 am well enough
Oh. I do not know however 1 ant to tell
you. There are »»me things it is a alia me
to speak of."
“Muat you apeak of them?" I naked.
"Yea; you must know, you will hare to
know all aooner or later. If uay poor,
dear aunt knew of it she could not rest
in her grave. Martiu, cannot you guess?
Are men born so «lull that they cannot
see what is going ou under their own
eyes ?”
"I have not the least idea of what you
are driving at," I answered. “Sit down
and calm yourself.”
"IIow long is it since my poor, dear
aunt died?”
"You know as well as I do,” I replied,
wouderiug that she should touch ths
wound so roughly. "Three mouihs next
Sunday.”
“And Hr. Dobree,” she said in a bitter
accent—then »topped, looking me full in
the face. I had never heard her call my
father Hr. Dobree in my life.
“What now?” I asked. "What has my
unlucky father been doing now?”
"Why,” she ex laimed, stamping her
foot, while the blood mantled to her fore­
head, "Hr. Dobree is in haste to take a
second wife! He is indeed, my poor Mar­
tin. He wishes to be married immedi­
ately to that viper, Kate Daltrey."
“Impossible!” I cried, stung to the
quick by these words. 1 remembered my
mother s mild, instinctive dislike to Kate
Daltrey, and her harmless hope that I
would not go over to her side. Go over
to her side! No. If she set her foot into
this house as my mother’s successor, I
would never dwell under the same roof.
As soon as my father made her his wife
1 would cut myself adrift from them both.
But he knew that; he would never ven­
ture to outrage my mother’s memory or
my feelings in such a flagrant manner.
"It is possible, for it is true,” said Ju­
lia. “They have understood each other
for these tour weeks. You may call it
an engagement, for it is one; and I never
suspected them, not for a moment!
Couldn't you take out a commission of
lunai-y against him? He must be mad
to think of such a thing.”
"How did you find it out?” I inquired.
“Oh, I was so ashamed!" she said.
“You see I had not the faintest shadow
of a suspicion. I had left them in the
drawing room to go upstairs, and 1
thought of something I wanted, and went
back suddenly, ami there they were—bis
arm around her waist, and her head on
his shoulder—he with his gray hairs, too!
She says she is the same age as me, but
she is forty if she is a day. The simple­
tons! I diil not know what to say, or
how to look. I could not get out of the
room again as if I hail uot seen, for 1
cried, ‘Oh!’ at the first sight of them.
Then I stood staring at them; but I think
they felt us uncomfortable as 1 did.”
“Julia,” 1 said, "I shall leave Guern­
sey before this marriage can come off. 1
would rather break stones ou the high­
way than stay to see that woman in my
mother's place. My mother disliked her
from the first.”
“I know it,” she replied, with tears in
her eyes, "and I thought it was nothing
but prejudice. It was my fault, bringing
her to Guernsey. But 1 could not bear
the idea of her coming as mistress here.
I said so distinctly. ‘Dr. Dobree,' I said,
'you must let me remin«! you that the
houst« is mine, though you have paiil me
no rent for years. If you ever take Kate
Daltrey into it, 1 will put my affairs into
a notary’s hands. I will, upon my word,
anil Julia Dobree never broke her wor.l
yet.' That brought him to his senses
better than anything. He turned very
pule, and sat down beside Kate, hardly
knowing what to say. Then she began.
She saiil if I was cruel, she would be
cruel, too. Whatever grieved you. Mar­
tin. would grieve me, anil she would let
her brother, Richard Foster, know where
Olivia was."
"Does she know where she is?” 1 asked
eagerly, in a tumult of surprise and hope.
“Why. in Sark, of course,” she rep led.
“What! Did you never know that
Olivia left Bark before my inothe«’«
death?" I said, with a chi.I of disap­
pointment. "Did I never tell you she was
gone, nobody knows where?"
"You have never spoken of her in my
hearing, except once—you recollect when,
Martin? We hare supposed she was still
living in Tardif’s house. Then ther«« is
nothing to prevent me from carrying out
my threat. Kate Daltrey shall never
enter this house as mistress.”
"Would you have gLen it up for
Olivia's sake?" I asked, marveling at her
generosity.
"I should have done it for your sake.”
she answered frankly.
"But," I saiil. reverting to our original
topic, “if my father has set his mind
upon uiarryiug Kate Daltrey, he will
brave anything."
"He is a dotard," replied Julia. "He
positively makes me dread growing old.
Who knows what follies one may be guil­
ty of in old age! I never felt afraid of
it before. Kate says she has two him
dre«l a year of her own. ami they will go
and live on that in Jersey, if Guernsey
t ecotnes unpleasant to them. Mart n she
is a yiper ahe is indeed. Ami 1 have
made such a friend of her! Now I shall
have no one but you and the Careys.
Why wasn't I satisfied with Johanna as
my friend?"
She stayed an hour longer, turning over
this unwelcome subject till we had thor­
oughly discussed every point of it. In
the evening, after dinner. I spoke to my
father briefly but decisively upon the
same topic. After a very short and very
sharp conversation, there rvmaiued n>
alternative for me but to iniike up my
mind to try my fortune once more out of
Guernsey. I wrote by the next mail to
Jack Senior, telling him my purpose.
I did not wait for my father to commit
the irreparable folly of his second mar­
riage. Guernsey had become hateful to
me. In spite of my ex« eeding love for
my native island, more beautiful in the
eyes of its people than any other spot on
earth. I could no longer be happy or at
peace there. Julia could not con eal her
regret, but I left her in the «harge of
Captain Carey and Johanna. She prom
ised to be my faithful correspondent, and
I engaged to write to her regularly. There
existed between in the half-betrothal to
which we had pledged o.irselvea at my
dying toother's urgent rrquest.
She
would wslt for the time when Olivia was
no longer the first in my heart; then she
wwnld be willing to become my wife. But
it ever that day came she would require
me to give up my position in England,
and settle down for life in Guernsey.
Fairly, then, I was launched upon the
career of a physician in the great city,
as a partner with Jack and his father.
The completeness of the change auLed
me. Nothiug here, in scenery, atmos­
phere or society, could remind me of the
fretted past. The troubled waters sub­
sided into a dull calm, as far as emotional
Life went. To be sure, the idea crossed
me often that Olivia might be in Lon­
don-even in the same street with me-
I never caught sight of a faded green
drees but my steps were hurried, aud I
followed till I was sure that the wearer
was not Olivia. But I was aware that
the chances of our meeting were so small
that I could not count upon them. Even
if 1 found her, what then? She was as
far away from me as though the Atlantic
rolled between us. If I only knew thut
she was safe, and as happy as her sad
destiny could let her be, I would be con­
tent.
Thus I was thrown entirely upon my
profession for interest and occupation. 1
gave myself up to it with an energy that
amazed Jack, and sometimes surprised
myself. Dr. Senior, who as an old vet­
eran loved it with ardor for its own sake,
was delighted with my enthusiasm. He
prophesied great things for me.
So passed my first winter in London.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Early In the spring I received a letter
from Julia, desiring me to look out for
apartments, somewhere in my neighbor­
hood, for herself and Johanua aud Cap­
tain Carey. They were coming to Lon­
don to spend two or three months of the
season. I had not had any task so agree­
able since I left Guernsey. Jack was
hospitably anxious for them to come to
our own house, but I knew they would
uot listen to such a proposal. I found
some suitable rooms for them, however,
»'here I could be with them at any time
in five minutes. On the appointed day
I met them at Waterloo station, and in­
stalled them in their new apartments.
It struck me that Julia was looking
better and happier than I had seen her
look for a long time. Her black dress
suited her, and gave her a style which
she never had in colors. Her complex­
ion looked dark, but not sallow; and her
brown hair was certainly more becom­
ingly arranged. Her appearance was
that of a well-bred, cultivated, almost
elegant woman, of whom no man need
be ashamed. Johanna »’as simply her­
self, without the least perceptible chauge.
But Captain Carey again looked ten
years younger, ami was evidently taking
pains with his appearance. I was more
than satisfied, I was proud of all my
friends.
“We want you to come and have a
long talk with us tomorrow,” said Jo­
hanna; “it is too late to-night. We shall
be busy shopping in the morning, but
can you come in the evening?"
“Oh, yes,” I answered; "I am at leis­
ure most evenings, ami I count upon
spending them with you. I can escort
you to as many places of amusement as
you wish to visit.”
“Tomorrow, then,” she said, “we shall
take tea at eight o'clock.
I bade them good-night with a lighter
heart than I hail felt for a long while. I
hehi Julia’s hand the longest, looking
into her face earnestly, till it flushed an I
glowed a little under my scrutiny.
“True heart!” 1 saiii to myself, “true
nn«l constant! ami I have nothing, and
shall have nothing, to offer 11 but the
ashes of a dead love. Would to heaven,"
I thought as I paced along Brook street.
“I hail never been fateil to see Olivia!”
I was punctual to my time the next
day. I sat among them quiet and si­
lent. but revelling in this partial return
of olden times. When Julia poured out
my tea, aud passed it to me with her
white band. 1 felt inclined to kiss her
jeweled fingers. If Captain Carey had
not been present I think I should have
done so.
We lingered over the pleasant meal.
At the close Captain Carey announced
that he was about to leave us alone to­
gether for an hour or two. I went down
to the door with him, for he had made
me a mysterious signal to follow him. In
the ball he whispered a few incomprehen­
sible sentences into my ear.
"Don't think anything of me. my boy.
Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. I'm an
old fellow compared to you, though I'm
not fifty yet;
everybody in Guernsey
knows that. So put me out of the ques­
tion, Martin. ‘There's many a s ip 'twixt
the cup and the lip.' That I know quite
well, my dear fellow.”
He was gone before I could ask for an
explanation. I returne«! to the drawing
room, pondering over his words. Johan
na ami Julia were sitting side by side
on the sofa, in the darkest corner of the
room.
—
“Come here. Martin." said Johanna;
“we wish to consult you on a subject of
greet importance to us all."
I drew up a chair opposite to them and
sat down, much as if it was about to
be a medical consultation.
"It is nearly eight months since your
poor dear mother died," remarked Jo­
hanna.
Eight months! Yes; and no one knew
what those eight months hsd been to me
—how desolate! how empty!
"You recollect,” continued Johanna,
"how her heart was set on your marriage
with Julia. an«l the promise you both
made to her on her deathbed?”
"Yes." I answered, beuding forward
am! pressing Julia's hand, "1 remember
every word.”
There was a minute's silence after this,
and I waito«l in some wonder as to what
this preside was leading to.
"Martin." aske«l Johanna, in a solemn
tone, "are you forgetting Olivia?”
"No,” I said, dropping Julia's ham]
as the image of Olivia flasheii across me
reproachfully, "not at all. What would
you have me say? She is as dear to me
at this moment as she ever was.”
“I thought you would say so," she re­
plied; “I dM not think yours was a love
that would quickly pass away, if it ever
does. There are men who can love with
the constancy of a woman. Do you kuow
anything of her?"
“Nothing." 1 said despondently; “I
have no clue as to where she may be
now."
"Nor has Tardif,' ahe continued; "my
brother ami I went across to Sark last
week to ask Mm.”
“That was very goo«l of you." I inter­
rupted.
“It wss partly for our own sakes.'
ahe said, blushing faintly. "Martin. Tar­
dif says that if you hare onew loved
Olivia, if la once for all. You ««raid
1 never conquer it. Do you think that
! this is true? Be candid with us.”
“Yes,” I answered, "it is true. I could
never love again as I love Olivia.”
"Then, my dear Martin,” said Johan­
na, very softly, “do you wish to keep
Julia to her promise?”
I started violently. What! did Julia
wish to be releused from that semi-en­
gagement, and be free? Was it possible
that any one else coveted my place in
her affections, ami in the new house
which we had fitted up for ourselves? I
felt like the dog in the manger. It seem­
ed an unheard-of encroachment for any
person to come between my cousin Julia
and me.
“Do you ask me to set you free from
your promise, Julia?” I asked, somewhat
sternly.
(To be continued.)
CAT NOW IN FAVOR.
Crippled, but bhe Helped to Find u
Fortune.
"I recently filed a claim for the widow
of a Mexican war veteran,” said H. G.
McCormic, of Cincinnati, “that has a
rather funny story attached to It that I
think will bear repeating, as It was
brought about by a one-eyed, bobtalled
cat of no pedigree aud of absolutely
no worth, that is now petted as a price­
less treasure by Mrs. Maggie Tuttle, an
aged widow, residing at Harrison,
about ten miles from Cincinnati.
A
small boy with a sling destroyed one
of the cat’s eyes, aud a few days after­
ward, lu an attempt to knock a train
from the track, the cast lost half its
tall; but the cat came back, and there­
by hangs the tale, uot the calt’s tall, by
the way.
“When I filed the papers for the pen­
sion of Mrs. Tuttle, whose husband
was a sergeant in the Twelfth United
States Infantry, it was found that all
was iu good shape, except bis discharge
papers, and I at once requested that a
search be made for these documents.
She was certain that her husband had
left them somewhere in the old home­
stead, and a diligent search was at once
Instituted. The old bouse was ransack­
ed from cellar to garret with no re­
sult, aud when the effort was about to
be given up in despair it was noticed
that the old cat took a great deal of
interest in the old garret. It went to a
box In one corner of the room aud
jumped into it. Upon looking into the
box it was found that four kittens wrere
nestled In some old paper. When an
effort was made to look into the box
the old cat grew ferocious aud attacked
the searchers. One of the party, who
did not like the cat any way, picked upa
book and threw it at it.
This book
missed the cat. but struck an old paste­
board box on a shelf and knocked it to
the floor, where It burst open and the
contents rolled out on the floor. Upon
lacking them up the discharge papers
aud $3,000 In government bonds were
found. The old cat now wears a blue
ribbon aud has the run of the house­
in fact, nothing Is too good for it.”—
Washington Star.
How to Become Wealthy.
Ina New Hampshire city there dwells
an octogenarian physician who, iu addi­
tion to his wide medical skill, is known
far and wide as a dispenser of blunt
philosophy. The other day a young
man of his acquaintance called at his
office.
“I have not come for pills this time,
doctor,” said the visitor, "but for ad­
vice. You have lived many years in
this world of toll and trouble aud have
bad much experience. I am young and
I want you to tell me how to get rich.”
The aged practitioner gazed through
his glasses at the young man and iu a
deliberate tone, said:
“Yes, I can tell you. You are young I
and can accomplish your object if you j
will. Your plan Is this: First, lie Indus- I
trious and economical. Save as much
as possible aud spend as little. Pile up '
the dollars and put them at interest.
If you follow out these instructions by |
the time you reach my age you'll be as
rich as Croesus and as mean as h----- 1.”
—Buffalo Commercial.
Literary Landmarks Doomed.
I HEROIC
EXPLORER'S
MEMORY.
Hoaored by the Erection of a Monu­
ment to Gen. Fike.
A lofty monument, dedicated at Kan-
’ sas City, marks the spot in Republic
County, Kan., where Gen. Zebulon M.
Pike first raised the
flag in Missouri.
The dedication was
marked by interest­
ing ceremonies, and
the gallant soldier
and heroic explorer
was ban dsomely
eulogized.
The Pike family
were New Jersey
people, and Zebulon
Montgomery was
UEN. z. M. rur.
skirts of what Is now Trenton, In 1779,
while his father, a captain in the Revo­
lutionary army, was fighting the Brit­
ish. While the son was a child, his
father removed with his family to
Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and
thence in a few years to Easton,
w here the boy was educated. He was
appointed an ensign In bls father’s regi­
ment, March 3, 1799, first lieutenant iu
November, and captain in August,
1806. While advancing through the
lower grades of his profession be sup­
plemented the deficiencies of his edu­
cation by the study of Latin, French
and mathematics. After the purchase
of Louisiana from the French, Lieut.
Pike was appointed to conduct an ex­
pedition to trace the Mississippi to its
source, and leaving St. Ixmls Aug. 9,
1805, he returned after nearly nine
months’ exploration and constant ex­
posure to hardship, having satisfactor­
ily performed the service. In 1806-7 be
was engaged In geographical explora­
tions In Louisiana Territory, in the
course of which he discovered Pike's
Peak in the Rocky Mountains and
reached Rio Grunile River. Having
been found on Spanish territory he and
his party were takeu to Santa Fe, but,
after a long examination and the seiz­
ure of Pike’s papers, they were re­
leased. He arrived at Natchitoches on
July 1, 1807, received the thanks of the
government, and in 1810 published a
narrative of his two expeditions.
Capt. Pike was made a major in
1808, a lieutenant colonel in 1809, dep­
uty quartermaster general April 3,
1812, colonel of the Fifteenth Infantry
July 3, 1812. and brigadier general on
March 12. 1813. Early in 1813 he was
assigned to the principal army as adju­
tant and Inspector general and selected
to command an expedition against York
(now Toronto), Upper Canada. On April
27. the fleet conveying the troops for
the attack on York reached the harbor
of that town and measures were taken
to land them at once. Gen. Pike landed
with the main body as soon as prac­
ticable. and. the enemy's advanced par­
ties falling back before him. he took
one of the redoubts that had been con­
structed for the main defense of the
place. The column was then halted
until arrangements were made for the
attack on another redoubt. While Gen.
Pike and many of his soldiers were
seated on the ground the magazine of
the fort exploded, a mass of stone fell
upon him and he was fatally injured,
surviving but a few hours.
M ul 11 ni i 1 Hn n «i re Packer
Die I Rece-itly.
Have been rostored to health
by Lydia £. Pinkham’» Vege­
table Oompound, Their let­
ters are on file and prove this
statement to be a fact, not a
mere boast. When a medi­
cine has been successful in
curing so many women, you
cannot well say without try­
ing it — “ I do not believe it
will help me."
r.
or 3
B >
¿4»
P inkham ’ s
Vegetable Compound
Is a positive cure for all those painful
Ailments of Women.
It will entirely cure the worst forms ot
Female Complaints, all Ovarian troubles,
Inflammation and Ulceration, Falling and
Displacements ot the Womb, and consequent
Spinal Weakness, and is peculiarly adapted
to the Change of Life._________________
Your medicine cured me of ter­
rible female illness.
M hh . M. E. M uller ,
1 a Concord Sq., Boston, Mass.
Backache.
Tt has cured more cases of Backache and
Leucorrhaea than any other remedy the
world has ever known. It is almost infallible
in such cases. It dissolves and expel)
Tumors from the Uterus in an early stage
of development, and checks any tendency
to cancerous humors.
Irregularity,
Suppressed or Paintul Menstruations, Weak­
ness of the Stomach, Indigestion, Bloating,
Flooding. Nervous Prostration, Headache,
General Debility.
It is a grand medicine. I am
thankful fur the good it has done
me.
Mrs. J. W. J.,
76 Carolina Ave.,
Jamaica Plain (Boston), Mass.
Dizziness, Faintness,
Extreme Lassitude, “ don’t care ” and
“want to be left alone” feeling, excitabil­
ity, irritability, nervousness, sleeplessness,
flatulency, melancholy, or the “blues,” and
backache. These are sure indications of
Female Weakness, some derangement of the
Uterus.
___
I was troubled with Dizziness,
Headaches, Faintness, Swelling
Limbs. Your medicine cured me.
M rs . S arah E. B aker ,
__________________ B ucksport, Me.
The whole story, however, is told in an
illustrated book which goes with each bot­
tle, the most complete treatise on female
complaint4 ever published.
HERMAN O. ARMOUR.
The
500,000 WouBt
Who
Herman Ossian Armour, the multi­
millionaire packer of Chicago and New
York, who died at Saratoga recently,
was a brother of
the more famous
Philip D. Armour,
whose death occur­
red some time ago.
Herman was born
a t
Stockbridge,
Madison
County,
N. Y., March 2,
1837, and from the
farm went to Mil­
il. V. A ilhUL . .
waukee in 1855.
After a few years’ business training
there lie embarked In 1862 In the grain
commission business in Chicago. His
younger brother, Joseph. Joined him
(here, and In 1865 took entire charge of
the Chicago establishment, while Her­
man O. Armour removed to New York
and organized a new tirm under the
name of Armour. Plankinton & Co. His
new enterprise was a great success
from the start, and the firm grew until
It became recognized throughout the
country. Mr. Armour’s ability won for
him an enviable reputation as one of
the foremost among the merchants and
financiers of the metropolis. The busi­
ness which he was Instrumental in es­
tablishing now employs 15,000 band».
The doom of another batch of liter
ary landmarks lias lately been sealed.
First the old Black Bull Tavern in Hol I
born, where Mrs. Gamp nursed Mr. .
Lewsome tn partnership with Betsy I
Prig—“Nussed together, turn and turn J
about, one off. one on.” Then the Red ;
l.lou, at Henley-on-Thames, in which
Shenstone was said to have written fa­
miliar lines which Dr. Johnson quoted'
to maintain his thesis that “there is
nothing which has yet been contrived J
by man by which so much happiness Is
produced as by a good tavern or Inn.” j
Lately, too. Burford-bridge Hotel, near
Box-hill, where Keats finished "Endy­
He Hsd the Money.
mion" toward the end of 1817. has been
A Western millionaire, who has made
in the market—whether for demolition
a fortune out of mines, and who Is re­
or uot, we cannot say.—Literature.
markable alike for his liberality and for
his ignorance of bls bank account, says
Bailor Poet* Wanted.
An English literary writer says that the Chicago Inter Ocean, was asked one
“the time is fully ripe for the advent of day to contribute to an object of char­
a sailor poet and the marine engineer ity. The canvasser suggested that one
poet. "Whether they write In terms of thousand dollars would be an accepta­
rhyme or no I care not A virgin field ble contribution.
"That isn’t enough.” replied the cap­
awaits them, a noble inheritance, ma­
turing for ages. They can. If they come, italist. “I will give you five thousand
utterly refute the false and foolish if I have the mouey In the bank. Wait
prattle of the armchair philosopher* until I call up and Inquire."
He summoned a clerk an«l told him to
and prove triumphantly that so far
from the romance and poetry of the telephone to the bank to inquire if he
sea lielng dead it has hardly yet been had five thousand dollars on deposit, as
given any adequate expression what- i he desired to contribute that sum. If
possible, to a worthy object. The clerk
ever."
returned, and reported that the bank
To Help the Thing Along.
advised that he had three hundred and
"Yes. grandfather Is 99 years and 6 eighty thousand dollars In the bank.
months of age."
"Dear me." cried the capitalist, "as
“You ought to get him a bicycle.”
much as that! Well, make out that
-What for'."
check for five thousand dollars.”
"So na to help him make a century.” ■
length of Facial Features.
—Judge
The proper length of the forehead Is
one-third of the length of the face; the
Commerce of the Thames
Five hundre«! trading vessels leave nose should also measure one-third, the
the Thames daily for all part* of the mouth ami chin together the other.—
Ladies' Home Journal.
worliL
MwOfe For eight years I Buttered with
□¿SAP womb trouble, and was entirely
cured by Mrs. Pinkham’s medicine.
M bs . L. L. T owne ,
Littleton, N. H.
Kidney Complaints
and Backache of either sex the Vegetable
Compound always cures.
Ljdia E. Pinkham*
Li»*r Pills curt
Constipation,
Sick Headichs, 25«.
The Vegetable Com­
pound is sold by al)
druggists or sent by
mail, in form of Pills
or Lozenges, on re­
ceipt of Ml .OO.
( drrenpondrncefredj
answered.
You can address in strictest confidence*
LYDIA K. PINKHAM MKB. CO., Ly»n, Ma
The Wreck of the Birkenhead.
J. Johnson, who died recently in
Liverpool was the last survivor of
the famous wreck of the Birkenhead,
the troopship that went down In Si­
mon's Bay in February, 1852, when
cnly 184 men out of 638 got ashore.
The troops stood drawn up under
arms on deck till the ship sank.
These Good New Days.
“Are my codfish ball» as good as
those your mother made, David?”
‘‘Better, my dear, 100 per cent bet­
ter. We didn’t have any boneless
codfish in those days, and every time
we had codfish balls some body got
choked.’’—Chicago Herald.
A Battle of Giants.
"Smithers can tell as good a fish
story as anybody I know. , I told
him an awful whopper the other
night, but he matched it.”
“How?”
"Said he believed it.—Stray Stories.
HEP YOUR SADDLE. DRY!
//,,,// ¿ss ™ e original ”
POMMEL
SLICKER
BUACR 0WYIU0W
PROTECTS BOTH
PIPER AND SADDLE
MA WEST “STORM
CATAL06UE3 EREE
run. line cr garments ano mata
anowiM
A J TOWER CO. BOSTON. MASS. as