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About The Yamhill County reporter. (McMinnville, Or.) 1886-1904 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 15, 1901)
CHAPTER XVJII.—(Continued.) "Why, Martin,” she said, averting her face from me, “you know I should never consent to marry you, with rhe idea of your caring most for that girl. No, I could-never do that. If I believed you would ever think of me as you used to do before you saw her, well, I would keep true to you. But is there any hope of that?” “Let us be frank with one another," I answered; “tell me, is there any one else whom you would marry if I released you from this promise, which was only given, perhaps, to soothe my mother’s last hours?” “Yes,” answered Johanna, hid her face in her hands, marry my brother.” Captain Carey! I fairly gasped for breath. Such an idea had never once occurred to me, though 1 knew she had been spending most of her time with the Careys at the Vale. Captain Carey to marry! and to marry Julia! To go and live in our house! I was struck dumb, and fancied that I had heard wrongly. If Julia wished for revenge—and wh n Is not revenge sweet to a jilted woman ? —she had it now. I was as crestfallen, as amazed, almost as miserable as she hud been. Yet 1 had no one to blame us she had. How could I blame her for preferring Captain Carey’s lo>e to my poor affections?” “Julia," I said, after a long silence, and speaking as calmly as I could, ' do you love Captain Carey?” “That is not a fair question to ask,” answered Johanna. “We have not been treacherous to you. I scarcely know how it has all come about. But my brother has never asked Julia if she loves him; for we wished to see you first, and hear how you felt shout Olivia. You say you shall never love again as you love her. Bet Julia free, then, quite free, to accept my brother or reject him. Be generous, be yourself, Martin.” “1 will,” I said; “nty dear Julia, you are as free as air from all obligation to me. You have been very good and very true to me. if Captain Carey is as good •nd true to you, as I believe he will be, you will be a very happy woman—iiap- pier than you would ever be with me.” “And you^will not make yourself un happy about It?” asked Julia, looking up. “No,” I answered cheerfully; "I shall be a merry old bachelor, and visit you and Captain Carey, when we are all old folks. Never mind me, Julia; I never was good enough for you. I shall be very glad to know that you are happy." Yet when I found myself in the street —for I made my escape as soon as 1 could get away from them—I felt as if • verything worth living for Were slip ping away from m<>. me. My M y mother and Olivia were gone, , un<l and here was Ju la forsaking me. I did not grudge her the new happiness, There was neither jeal- ousy nor envy in my feelings towards my supplanter, But in some way I felt that 1 hail lost a great deal since I en- tercd thdr drawing room two Lo.as ago. CHAPTER XIX. I did not go straight home to our dull, gloomy bachelor dwelling place, for I was not in the mood for an hour's solilo quy. 1 was passing by the house, chew ing the bitter cud of my reflection!, an I turned in to see if any messages were waiting there. The footman told me n person had been with an urgent request that a doctor would go as soon ns pos sible to No. Ill Bellringer street. I did not know the street, or what sort of a locality it was in. "What kind of a person called?” I ask ed “A worn all, sir; not a lady. On foot- poorly dre- .ed. She's been hero before, aud Dr. Lowry has visited the case twice.” "Very good,” I said. Upon inquiry I found that the place was two miles away; and as our old friend Simmons was stl 1 on the cab stand. I jumped into his cab, and bad* him drive me as fast ns he could. 1 wanted a sense of motion, and a change of scene. If I had been in Guernsey 1 should have mounted Madam, and had another midnight ride round the Island. This was a poor euba'.itute for that; but the visit would serve to turn my thoughts from Julia. We turned nt last into a shabby street, recognizable even in the twilight of the scattered lamps as being a place for ch?Hp lodging houses. Then* was a | light I turning in the second-floor win dows of No. 11); but all the test of the front was in darkness. I paid Simmons and dismissed him. saying 1 would walk home. By the time I turned to knock i at the door, it was opened quietly from within. A woman stood in the door way; 1 could not see her face, for the cau.ile she had brought with her wgs t on the table behind her; ne ther was there light enough fur her to distinguish mine. “Are you come from Dr. Lowry's?" •he asked. The voice sounded a familiar one, but I could not for the life of me recall whose it was. "Yes,” I answered, “but I do not know the name of my patient here." “Dr Martin Dobree!” she exclaimed. I recollected her then as the person who had been in search of Olivia. She had fallen back a few pace*, and I could now see her face. It was doubtful, as If sh< hesitated to admit me. Was It possible 1 ha l come to attend Olivia's husband ? "I don't know whatever to do!” she ejaculated; "lie is very ill tonight, but I don’t think he ought to see you—I don’t think ho would.” “I am not anxious to attend him. I came here simply bveau-e my front is out of town. If he wishes to see me I will see him, and do uiy best. It rests entirely with himself.” "Will you wait here a few minutes,” •he asked, "while I see what he will do'»" She left me in the dimly lighted hall. The place was altogether sordid, an 1 dingy, and miserable. At last I heard her step coming down the two tllghta •f stairs, and 1 weal to meet her. “He will see you,,” she said, eying me herself with a steady gaze of curi osity. I was anxious to see Olivii's has band, partly from the intense aversion I felt instinctively toward him. He was lying back in an old, worn-out easy-chair, with u woman’s shawl thrown across his shoulders, for the night was chil’y. His face had the first sickly hue and emaciation of the disease, and was prob ably refined by it. It was a handsome, regular, well-cut face, narrow across the brows, with thin, firm lips, and eyes perfect in shape, but cold and glittering as steel. I knew afterward that he was fifteen years older than Olivia. Across his knees lay a shaggy, starved-looing cat, which he held fast, and entertained himself by teasing and tormenting it. He scrutinized me as keenly as I did him. “I believe we are in some sort con nected, Dr. Martin Dobree,” he said; “my half sister, Kate Daltrey, is mar ried to your father, I)r. Dobree.” “Yes,” I answered shortly. The sub ject was eminently disagreeable to me, and I had no wish to pursue it with him. “Ay! she will make him a happy man,” be continued mockingly; “you are not yourself married, I believe, Dr. Martin Dobree?” I took no notice whatever of his re mark, but passed ou to formal inquiries concerning his health. My close study of his malady helped me here. I could assist him to describe and localize his symptoms, and I soon found that the dis ease was in a very early stuge. “You have a better grip of it than Lowry," he said. "I feel as if I were is dead, that you have not taken posses sion of her property?” “A shrewd question,” he said jeering ly. “Why am I in these cursed poor lodgings? Why am I as poor as Job. when there are twenty thousand pounds of my wife's estate lying unclaimed? My sweet, angelic Olivia left no will, or none in my favor, you may be sure; and by her futher's will, if she dies intestate or without children, his property go< a to build almshouses, or some confounded nonsense, in Melbourne. All she be queaths to me is this ring, which I gate to her on our wedding day. curse her!” He held out his hand, on the little finger of which shone a diamond, that might, as far as I knew-, be the one I had once seen in Olivia’s possession. “Perhaps you do not know,” he con tinued, “that it was on this very point, the making of her will, or securing her property to me in some way, that my wife took offense and ran away from me. Carry was just a little too hard upon her, and I was away in Paris. But con sider, I expected to be left penniless, just as you see me left, and Carry was determined to prevent it.” “Then you are sure of her death?" 1 said. “So sure,” he replied calmly, “that we were married the next day. Olivia’s let- ter to me, as well as those papers, was conclusive of her identity. Would you like to see it?” Mrs. Foster gave me a slip of paper, on which were written a few lines. The words looked faint, and grew fainter to my eyes as I read them. They were without doubt Olivia’s writing. “I know that you are poor, and 1 send you all I can spare—the ring you once gave to me. I am even poorer than yourself, but I have just enough for my last necessities.” There was no more to be said or done. Conviction had been brought home to me. I rose to take my leave, and Foster held out his hand to me, perhaps with a kind ly intention. Olivia's ring was glittering on it, and I could not take it into mine. "Well, well!” he said, “I understand; I am sorry for you. Come again. Dr. Martin Dobree. If you know’ of any remedy for my ease, you are no true man if you do not try it.” I went down the narrow staircase, "That would be unjust to Julia," I In terrupted. "She must not be aacrificod to me any longer. I do not suppose I shall ever marry----- ” “You must marry, Martin,” she inter rupted in her turn, and speuking em phatically; “you are altogether unfitted for a bachelor's life. It Is all very well for Dr. John Senior, who hus never known a woman’s companionship, and who can do without it. But it is misery to you—this cold, colorless life. No. Of all men I ever knew, you are th« least fitted for a single life.” "Perhaps I am," I admitted, as I re called my longing for some sign of wom anhood about our bachelor dwelling. (To be continued.) NOAH'S ARK A MODERN SHIP. Proof that the Shipbuilding Industry Flourished Before Hie Time, Another popular notion baa been up set, For centuries It has been supposed that Father Noah was the first ship builder of the world and that the ark in which he saved his family from drowning was the first vessel that “plowed the raging main.” This auppo- sitlon lias been found to be erroneous, for there exist paintings of Egyptian vessels Immensely older than the date 2840 B. C„ usually assigned to the ark, being, Indeed* probably between seven ty and eighty centuries old. Moreover, there are now In existence In Egypt boats which were built about the period the ark was constructed. These are, however, small craft, about thirty-three feet long, seven feet or eight feet wide, and two and a half feet to three feet deep. They were discovered six years ago by the eminent French Egyptolo gist, M. J. De Morgan, In brick vaults near Cairo and were probably funeral boats. They are constructed of three-lnch acacia aud sycamore planks, dovetailed together and fastened with trenails. They have floors but no ribs, and though nearly 5,000 years old they held together after their supports had been removed. These boats may be consid ered side by side with the better known, but much more modern, viking ship, which is now to be seen In a shed at Christiana. This craft was discov ered In 1880 In a funeral mound, so that we owe both these existing examples of extremely ancient ships to the funer al customs of countries so dissimilar as Egypt aud Norway. Heron Nests in the Maine Woods. TEASING AND TORMENTING. made of glass, aud you could look through me. Can you cure me?” “1 will do my best,,” I answered. “So you all say," he muttered, “and the best is generally good for nothing. You see I care less about getting over it than my wife does. She is very anxious for my recovery.” "Your wife!" I repented in utter sur prise; "you are Richard Foster, I be lieve?” “Certainly,” he replied. "Does your wife know of your pres ent illness?" I inquired. “To be sure,” he answered; “let me Introduce you to Mrs. Richard Foster.” The woman looked nt me with flash ing eyes an I a moekkikng smile, while Mr. Foster indulged himself with ex torting a long an 1 plaintive mew from the poor ent on Ills knees. "1 cannot understand,” I said. I did not know how to continue my speech. Though they might choose to pass as husband and wife among strangers, they could hardly expect to impose upon me. "Ah! I see yon do not.” said Mr. Fos ter, with a visible sneer. “Olivia is dead." "Olivia dead!" I exclaimed. "You were not aware of it?” he said. "1 am afraid I have lievii too sudden. Kate tells us you were ill love with my first wife, and sacrificed a most eligible match for her. Would it be too late to open fresh negotiations with your cous in? You see 1 know nil your family his tory.” "When did Olivia die?" 1 Inquired, though my tongue felt dry and parched, and the room, with his fiendish face, was swimming giddily before my eyes. "When was it, Carry?” he asked, turn ing to his wife. "We heard she was dead on the first of October,” she answered. "Y’ou mar ried me the next day." "Ah. yes!" he said; “Olivia had been dead to me for more than twelve months, and the moment 1 was free 1 married her. Dr. Martin. It was quite legal." "But what proof have you?" 1 asked still incredulous, yet with a heart so heavy that it could hardly rouse itself to hope. "Carry, you have those letters," said Richard Foster. "Here are the proofs,” said Mrs. Fos ter. She put into my hand an ordinary cer tificate of death, signed by J. Jones. M. I*. It stated that the deceased. Olivia Foster, had died on September the 27th. of acute iutlammation of the lungs. Accompanying this was a letter written in a good handwriting, purport ing to lie from a clergyman or minister, who had attended Olivia in her fatal Ill ness. He said that she had desired him to keep the place of her death and burial a secret, and to forward no more than the official certificate of the former event. This letter was signed E. Jones No clue was given by either document as to the place where they were written. “Are you not satisfied." ssked Foster "Nos” I replied, "how is it, if Olivia closely followed by Mrs. Foster. Iler face had lost its gaiety and boldness, aud looked womanly and care-worn, as she laid her hand upon my arm before open ing the house-door. "For heaven's sake, come again,” she said, “if you can do anything for him. We have money left yet, and I am earn ing more every day. We can pay you well. Promise me you will come again.” "I can promise nothing to night,” I an swered. "Y’ou shall not go til? you promise,” she said emphatically. "Well, then, I promise,” I answered, and she unfastened the chain almost noiselessly, aud opeued the door into the street. CHAPTER XX. I reached home just as Jack was com ing in from his evening amusement. He let me in with his latch-key, giving me a cheery greeting; but as soon as we had entered the diuing-room, aud he saw my face, he exclaimed. "Good heavens! Mar tin. what has happened to you?" "Olivia is dead!” I answered. llis arm was about my neck in a mo ment, for we were like boys together still, when we were alone, lie knew all about Olivia, ami he waited patiently till I could put my tidings into words. “It must be true," he said, though in a doubtful tone; “the scoundrel would not have married again if he had not suffi cient proof.” "She must have died very soon after my mother," 1 answered, "and 1 never knew h!” "It's strange!” he said. “I wonder she never got anybody to write to you or Tardif.” There was no way of accounting for that strange silence toward us. We sat talking in short, broken sentences; but we could come to no conclusion about it. It was late when we parted, and I went to bed. but not to sleep. Upon going downstairs In the morning I found that Jack was already off. having left a short note for me. saying he would visit my patients that day. I had scarce ly begun breakfast when the servant an nounced "a lady.” and as the lady fol lowed close upon his heels. I saw behind his shoulder the familiar face of Johan na. looking extremely grave. She was soon seated beside me. watching me with j something of the tender, wistful gaze of my mother. "Your friend. Dr. John Senior, called upon ns a short time since." she said, “ami told us thia sad, sad news." I nodded silently. "If we had only known it yesterday,." she continued, "you would never have heard what we theu said. This makes so vast a difference. Julia could not have become your wife while there was an other woman living whom you loved more. Y’ou understand her feeling?" "Y’ea,” I said; "Julia is right." “My brother and I have been talking about ths change this will make." she resumed. “He would not rob you of any < consolation or of any future happiness; not for worlds. He relinquishes all claim to er hop« of Julia's affection---- ” There are three known heron colonies in New England. One of them is on the plantation just to the north of Se bee Lake. On a point of land reaching out into the pond is a growth of tall sliver birches, and there are at least 100 nests in the tops of these trees. The trees are tall, without limbs for forty feet or more from the ground. It is a well known fact that herons never build a nest In a tree with limbs much less than forty feet from the earth. The nests are constructed from small sticks, some up to an inch In diameter. The nest Is at least two feet across, and the eggs are a trifle smaller than a lien’s egg, and of a palejblue color. The old birds go long distances on their for aging trips. In some cases forty and fif ty miles. The birds of this species about Moosehead Lake and around the ponds miles to the south nil make their way to this particular colony at night. Standing on the point one can see the birds coming from ail directions during the period in which they feed their young.—New York Tribune. Java's Great Explosion. Dr. Eugene Murray Aaron calls the eruption of the volcano Krakatua in Java “the greatest explosion of modern times.” He says: “It is quite safe to say, when we are asked the question as to which of all tlie mighty manifestations of God’s power In this world thus far within the ken of science has been the most stupendous, the most all-overw helming, that the terrific annihilation of Kraka tua. ill 1883, surpasses all else. A smoke that encircled the globe, a wave that traveled 7,500 miles, a sound heard 3.- 000 miles afar and an air shock hurled thrice around the earih—what more can be sought as testimony to the pent- up energies beneath our very feet?” The Densest Population. The greatest density of the popula tion In tlie world Is claimed for Bom bay, and Is only disputed by Agra. The population of Bombay amounts to 760 persons per acre in certain areas, and In these sections the street area only occupies one-fourth of the whole. If the entire population massed in the streets for any purpose, the density would equal 3,040 persons per acre. Clock for Theatrical Use. To Judíente the different numbers of a program a newly designed clock has a rotable dial plate, which can be per forated at the proper places to engage hooked rods which fall Into the holes In the dial, and are pulled a short dis- ' tance to make electrical eonnectlona with bells or indicators located in con venient places. A New Gnn. A centrifugal gun. discharging 30.000 bullets a minute, has l>een invented by an English engineer. . The bullets are poured into a case front a hopper, and guided into a disk three feet In diame ter. revolving in the case at the rate of 15.01X) revolutions a minute. They are discharged from the edge of the disk. Man's Temperature. Man's ordinary temperature la 98.6 degrees when In good health; that of a snail 76 degrees, and of a chicken 111 , degree*. - ----------------------------------- We have remarked that soon after It | Is announced that a tnan seems t® drink at the fountain of perpetual youth be dies. The moat successful nation is deter nu nation. HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. She Rejoiced W han the Horse Had KickeJ the Bugxy to Piece«. Some neighbors and friends of ours had a horse called Alcade, says Horace Vachell In his interesting description of California life; and thereupon be goes on to relate an incident in which the horse played an important part. Alcade was a most respectable horse, but like all of 11s he had his failing; he would flick his tail,over the relua. So one day my friend, when about to take his wife out for a drive, tied down Aleade's tail so tightly and securely that not a wiggle was left in it. Now. It happened that only that morning my friend’s wife had turned on the water—water, you must under stand, Is a very precious article on a ranch in Southern California—and, alas! she had neglected to turn it off. So the water had flowed away; leaving the family tank empty and cracking beneath the ardent rays of the sun. Conceive, If you can, the wrath of a husband condemned by his wife’s care lessness to pump many hundreds of gallons of water! You may be sure that he—he was an Englishman—told his unhappy wife that she bad com mitted the unpardonable sin; and she, poor soul, appreciating the magnitude of her offense, held her peace—which Is remarkable because she was a daughter of the West. Perhaps the husband was sorry that he had spoken so harshly, and thought that a drive behind a fast trotter would establish happier relations between the two who should be one. Be that as It may, after the drive was over he began to unharness Alcade, Ills wife standing by and talking to him. The traces were unhooked, the breeching-straps unbuckled, and then Alcade was commanded to leave the shafts; but Alcade. wise as Balaam's ass, never stirred, for he knew that his tail was still fast to the buggy. There upon my friend took the whip and ap plied it smartly to Aleade's hind quar ters. Alcade, who had doubtless been nurs ing his wrongs all the afternoon, and who saw his opportunity, as the law yers say. to show cause, retaliated by kicking the buggy into a heap of kind ling-wood. My friend’s wife watched this per formance with interest, and when It was over she turned to her husband and said: “My dear, after this I shall turn on the water and let it run as often and as long as I please.” CHILD ARMY CAPTAIN. Son of Gen. Lawton Held That Rank in I’h i 1 i ppi nee. The Change of Life Is the most Important period In a man's existence. Owing to ruoden» methods of living, not one woman in a thousand approaches this perfectly natural change without experiencing a train of very annoying and some 1 times painful symptoms. Those dreadful hot flashes, sending the blood surging to the heart until it seems ready to burst, ami the faint feeling that follows, sometimes with I chills, as if the heart were going to | stop for good, are symptoms of a dan- Mas. J bkxis N obls . gerons, nervous trouble. Those hot flashes are just so many calls from nature for help. The nerves are cry ing out for assistance. The cry should >>e heeded in time. Lydia E. Pink ham's Vegetable Compound was pre- l>ared to meet the needs of woman’s system at this trying period of her life. ' It builds up the weakened nervous system, and enables a woman to pass that grand change triumphantly. “ I was a very sick woman, caused by Change of Life. I suffered with hot flushes, and fainting spells. 1 was afraid to go on the street, my head and back troubled me so. I was entirely cured by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta ble Compound.” — M bs . J ennie N o bi .S* 5010 Keyser St., Germantown, Pa. Poor Child.’ “You’ve got a little brother,” the nurse at breakfast. “He born last night.” “Really,” said Tommy, “And night was Sunday. Poor kid!” “Why do you say that?” “Cause his birthday won't do any good. Sunday’s a holiday, how.”—Philadelphia Press. said was last him any A Waste of Hospitality. Mrs. Hermitage (of Drearydale)— I believe I will invite the Gothams out from the city to spend Sunday with us. Oscar. Hermitage (hopelessly) — What’s the use, Mary? They don’t want to buy a suburban cottage..—Boston Journal. The Kentucky State Guard numbers among its members the youngest indi | vidual that ever d o lined shoulder Accounting for It. straps in the Cull “It may be merely fancy,” remark- ed States army or I ed Mrs. Seldom-Holme, “but since my who has been un husband commenced drinking the wa der fire In battle. ter from that iron spring he has’ This person Is seemed to be ten times as obstinate Capt. Manley as he used to be.” "Perhaps,” suggested Mrs. Nexdoor, Lawton, son of the “the water is tinctured with pig late Gen. H. W. iron?”—Chicago Tribune. I.awton, who, al- though only 13 LAWTOX What Did She Do? (Aged 13). years old, is the Miss Prism—Don't let your dog bite bugler for the first battalion artillery. me, little boy. Kentucky State Guard. Little Boy—He won't bite, ma'am. At the age of 11 years this boy was Miss Prism—But he is showing his on the firing line and under tire. He teeth. Little boy (with pride)—Certainly went to the Philippines with his father and served in various commands until he is, ma'am; and if you had as good teeth as he, you'd show ’em, too.”— ills father’s death In December, 1899. Tid-Bits. Soon after arriving he was assigned to Not So Bad. the position of volunteer aide on his father's staff with the rank of captain. Mrs. Housekeep—Oh, Bridget, you He served faithfully and well, going haven’t really broken that piece of through the entire campaign: taking Severes? Oh, my! That’s the worst part In all the expeditions, and endur thing you could have broken in the ing the same hardships as the others of whole house! Bridget—Faith, Oi’m glad to hear it the command. wasn’t the best, mum!—Philadelphia Before starting on that long north Press. ern expedition with Ills father to Lu Thrown from His Cab and Killed. zon. the result of which meant so much, he served for some time as an aide to The following is a most interesting Gen. Fred Grant while the latter was and, in one respect, pathetic tale: — Mr. J. Pope, 42 Ferrar Road, Streat- stationed at Bacor. Of all the relics brought back from the Philippines, haia, England, said: “Yes, poor chap, he is gone, dead— says the Philadelphia Inquirer, the horse bolted, thrown off his seat on most treasured by him are the official his cab he was driving and killed— papers showing his assignment and pro poor chap, and a good sort too. mate. motions while serving In the volunteer It was him, you see, who gave me that army of the United States. half bottle of St. Jacob's Oil that made a new man of me. ’Twas like Speculative Mathematics. this: me and Bowman were great Two club-men were discussing the friends. Some gentleman had given financial affairs of some of their ac- him a bottle of St. Jacob's Oil which had done him a lot of good; he only quaintances. "Now there's Brown. He’s been used half the bottle, and remembering speculating heavily In wheat. How has that I had been a martyr to rheuma tism and sciatica for years, that I had he come out?” literally tried everything, had doctors, "Away ahead.” and all without benefit, I became dis “And th-re’s Williams. lie has dab couraged, and looked upon it that bled extensively In oats. Has he made there was no help for me. Well," said anything?” Pope, “You may not believe me, for "He hasn't done as well as Brown it is a miracle, but before I had used has. But Thompson—you know Thomp the contents of the half bottle of St. Jacob's Oil which poor Bowman gave son?” me. I was a well man. There it is, “Yea, I know him.” you see, after years of pain, after us "Well. he's worth as much as Brown ing remedies, oils. embrocations, and Williams put together." horse liniments, and spent money on “There you’re wrong. I know Thomp doctors without getting any better. I son’s circumstances exactly. He Isn’t was completely cured in a few days. worth a cent.” I bought another bottle, thinking the "Just so. Brown Is worth two hun pain might come back, but It did not. dred thousand dollars, and YY'illlams is so I gave the bottle nway to a friend two hundred thousand dollars’ worse who had a lame back. I can’t speak highly of this wonderful pain off than nothing. If you combine the too killer.” wealth of the two It amount to noth ing. the same as Thompson’s. Have Autocrat of th« Tzbl«. you forgotten matWi matics?” The head waiter at the Cliff House, Manitou, was given a smoker the Onr of Their Characteristics. “Our minister Is a splendid man. Ev other night and a fine gold watch. The distinguished official responded erything about him is so good." and with dignity to the "Yes. I've noticed that, like many appropriately presentation speech. He then lifted ministers, he even has a good appetite.” his hand in token that the audience —Philadelphia Bulletin. was at an end. His guests departed and the great man was left alone__ Give any woman time, and she will Denver Post. complain of the condition In which her clothes with real lace on came out of "Whim Coal.” the wash. “White coal is the striking name If a baby is well-spring of pleasers given bj a French paper to the force generating electricity by harnessed twins must be a deluge. mountain streams.