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For One Cent R xou max obtain O cups of SAUDA II B4M AaR for a trial pacKaifa today. Delicious ! C>conoinical I w MEMORIES. In the morning ther« thall b« not â-  doubt, But a song and glad laughter all about. Let us think it; let us dream it. If you please; Let U8 live it so 'twill be memories. Memories! We make them now going on Through the rich and radiant mo- ments of the dawn. I*t'g determine, then, to know every day Happy momenta that shall glow by our way. Then, when gray and full of years, we can smile, Living over happy days, afterwhile. And at evening there shall be not a doubt. But eternal promises all about â€" Jay B. Iden. AN APRON SHOWER. When casting about for material for a shower to bless the engaged g:irl with, decide upon aprons and see what a prolific shower Oiey will make. If the girl is likely to do a lot of her own work â€" and that's what most of our friends are happily planning for â€" we may as well begin at the bottom and tell about the aprons of our ac- quaintance, from the humblest to the highest First there arc the lowly but neces- sary ginghams. After making sure of her favorite color, buy the half-inch plaids instead of the old fine plaids; then embellish the border above the hem with cross-atitching on the white squares in the color of the dark squares. Repeat the design on the pockets and on the centre of the belt. Make the ties three inches wide and long enough to tie in a square bow in the back. Say three ginghams will be enough. Then nuy enough organdie of her most becoming color to make, after a good pattern, two long-sleeved and high-necked aprons that button down the back, with white organdie collarf, cuff.s and pocket trimming. These are Sunday-suppor aprons to slip right on over a pretty dress. Next buy enough sheer India linen, or lawn, to make two long, straight aprons with a four-inch hem at the bottom and wide long ties. These aprons are to slip on at serving time or when getting a light supper, and are very useful and not quite ns bus- iness like looking as the friendly ginj?- ham. Crease the gathers in the old way and gather twice to make them lio well in at the belt. The aprons must be sheer but have no trimming. SOMETHING FOR EVERY OCCASION. The lancy-work apron is made of unbleached canvas, having three deep t>ockets at the bottom instead of a hem, made by turning the material up and putting u narrow hem at the top so that it ib right side out and .Htilching down between the pockets with featherstitching. The apron may he embroidered with flower motifs In I the centre of each pocket. Through a' I'aiiii'g at the top a ribbon three inrhus wide may be run for ties in the color j malchi-(; the embroidery An i^pron made of a.Hbcstos clorn to use when working around the stove' is cut after the fashion of the butch- 1 er's apron and is bound with tape, i It has u nrrk loop of tape and lies of the .name. Rubber-lined material may bo purchased by the yard, and an I apron made on the same lines as an' asbestos apron will keep the wearer I dry when doing hrr laundry work. It is also good to wear when washing! the dishes. The little ticking apron' with (locket.s for i-lothospin.s is unother' handy possession. i Every girl who is to hinc a home' ill the roiiulry will need a garden apron made of pretty cretonne after the pattern of the Sunday organdie apron. There must b« a sunbonnet and a kneeling pad to match to make the set complete. For silver-cleaning days there is a newcomer that is convenient and a silent helper. Make a gingham apron long and wide, and cover it with a thin flannel apron the same size. Then lay in the centre, after the two form- er materials are gathered, a large- sized chamois. The latter is fastened to a tape belt of its own, then tacked to the apron belt, from which it is easily detached when it must be wash- ed and dried. In holding the silver pieces on the lap the flannel is soft and does 'not scratch, and any mois- ture is not likely to go through, and the chamois polisher is right at hand. A small white woolen glove is excel- lent to use for applying the paste. Fudge and tea aprons ere made of linen embroidered in any way liked, but If giving a tea the ho|)tc8s will wear little silk or crepe .'de chine aprons or little butterfly thiqgs of lace and cambric. i' tl^mHoriE i Br DOROTHY ETHEL WALSH. Tall Fumituro for Uow Room*. Unea and their w-onect us* in decoration hava been dlacussed in thea« oolumni. We have advocated Perpendicular wall paper (or tlie low celllnKed room. We have adnr.on- Ishcd our reader* to so dcElitn the window draperies thut they will em- phasize those dimensions lacking In quantity. The general public i.i cognizant ot the (act that lines can remedy the shortcoming* o( many room'* lack o( height would havo rooms, but after the wall p.tpcr Is choicn with an eye to such service, after the draperies are hung In just the correct (old* necessary to the emergency the (urnlture Is allowed to undo the good work so carefully planned. The asm* rules which govorn ' the (ounduUon decorations should govern the selection of (urnlture. Whore It ia plannod to purchase new artlclea study the room (or which they are destined. To-day'a â- ketch shows a high secretary which was placed in a low oelllnged rocm. Had tho home maker ujad Instead a low table o( ho«1zontal linos tho room'a lack of height would have teen emphasized, but with the hUli perpendicular lines of the article •hown emphasis la sriven to hnlght and the detect in the room which promised to be noticeabl* ia tbu* made nezative. A COMFORTABLE SflT FOR THE SMALL BOY. The Luck of Stoney Valley jf Pattern 3711 is shown in this illus- tration. It is cut in 4 Sizes: 8, 4, 5 and 6 years. A 6-year size requires 3% yards of 27-inch material. If made as illustrated trousers and collar will require 1% yards of material and blouse 1% yards. ! A pattern of this illustration mailed to any address on receipt of 15c in silver, by the Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Adelaide St, Toronto. Allow two weeks for receipt of pattern. \ A MOVABLE DRAINBOARD. In kitchens without running water it is sometimes a problem to dispose of dishwater after every meal, with- out having to carry several heavy dishpanfuls out to some outdoor drain. A woman who was anxious to make her kitchen more convenient, solved the question l>y getting her hus- band to make her a movable drain- board with a hinged support at the lower end. This drainboard had a band about two inches high running around three sides to prevent water from being spilled about the kitchen. It hung by a large hook on the kit- chen wall when not in use. When it was time to do the dishes thi.s house- keeper set up the drainboard with one end on the table, the other end resting on the hinged leg, the whole sloping toward a tall tin coflfee drum which rtoeived the water. When the di-shwa-'hing was over, the water was removed in one trip out of the kitchen, iiustead of the numerous journeys for- merly required, and the drainboard was hung: on the wall ngaiti. j FOSTER HOMES WANTED lor BOYS anil QIRL8 of (Chool Age. Specially le- letted for Immigration to ctnndH Kurihfr fnfonn.itlon nmi]y to The Salvation Army 207 George St. Toronto ISduC No. 8â€" '24. SPOTLESS MAHOGANY. ' A neighbor of mine, noted for her' Kpotl«'.ss and shining mahogany, once told mc her secret. In a bowl on her desk she keeps half a cream nut Brazil nut -and when even a ulight scratch or mark aiipcais on the wood she rubs it away entirely with tho cut end of the nnt, polishing later with a' soft cloth. The oil in the nut oora-^ plelcly restores the flnifh. I Ol.n VELVET MADE NEW. I'or thoje who still use wood or coal ranges or the hot jilate over gasj stoves, we can rnomnicnd an idenl way of renovating velvet, .\fter brush- ing off the top of the stove, lay a| large iloth wrung out of water on it' and over this the velvet, right side' up. At the etenm rises brush the' goods v.ilh a soft brush until allj <!e«se; di.^ii^ar. If necessary dampen the cloth mort than once. ' Seth Forrester threw down his shovel and debated with himself as to whether he should go home again. If he was found dead there were many in the camp who would sub- scribe enough to send Phyllis and the two youngsters back to England. Without him, her parents would wel- come her to their home. They had always been against her marrying him, and yet he had done his best. But bad luck had seemed his portion in life â€" nothing that he had set his hand to had prospei-ed, and things had gone from bad to worse until now, if it had not been for the I'indness of others, Phyllis and the little ones would have starved. He tightened his belt He had eaten nothing but a small crust of bread that day, feeling that what he took was robbing those he loved. Now it was late afternoon, and he was weary â-  â€" oh, so weary. He had been trying for gold in the bed of a small stream. The "cradle" with its burden of washed earth stood beside him; his shovel was at his feet. He had reckoned that little streams carried gold down from the big hills. Others had found it, some in fair quantities, and yet he had not washed out enough to buy bread, let alone other necessaries. It was just rotten luck, he reflected. He looked up at the blue sky. Around were the hills, barren enough, and yet with a beauty of their oyvn which he would have appreciated had not hunger gnawed unceasingly. The stream, in which he stood knee-deep, came sparkling down from the rocks like a silver ribbon, but it had only fooled him. He could not admire it now. He was working in a little pool into which the stream dropped, falling away again twenty yards farther on. It was the very place where gold should lie, a perfect basin â€" everyone agreed to that, and yet his luck was down and out These last nine days he had not seen even a grain of the precious metal. Phyllis, poor girl, was almost in rags, and she and the children did not have enough to eat. It was sufficient to break the heart of any man, he told himself. If it had only been himself, he argu- ed, he would have gone on until he dropped; but the thoughts of Phyllis' suff'erings â€" for patient and non-com- plaining as she was, he knew she suf- fered â€" were maddening. If he had only just enough to keep them, how happy he would have been. Little Doris loolted so thin, nnd poor little Dick weighed next to nothing. They were clean and neat, for Phyl- lis was so clever with her needle, but that did not give them food. It was his business to tind that, and he had proved an out-and-out failure. One shot nnd all would bo over. Phyllis and the young.slcrs would bo at the end of their terrible privations. Was it not his duty to put an end to his useless life? He had hung on to hope day after day, believing that his luck must turn at Inst. How could he go home with the same dreadful tale: "No luck yet, old girl I'- ll was a wonder, he thought, that Phyllis' love for him had not turned to hate, for it was he who had pcrsu- nded her to leave a comfortable home; it was he who had brought her to these straits. Yet her eyes wei"e always soft with OUR FREE BOOKLiT Our little book describes our work and our excellent toilet preparations and contains many hints on the care of the Skin, f-'calp. Hair, Hands nnd Com- plexUin. For over 30 .vears we have been meceesfully treating Krzema, I'Iniplo.ii. uinrkhends nnd other skin and scalp troubles by maP. We re- move Siiperfluons Hair. Moles, Warts, etc . forever, bv Kleetrolysis. Write HISCOTT IM8TITUTB •ID Celltga 8L • Toronto love when they looked at him. She' would sit beside him and stroke his hands and murmur, "Poor boy^â€" poor dear boy," just as if he had not prov-i ed a curse to her. | And the youn^ters would come and I sit on his knees as if he had been the I I best ot fathers, and chatter away as though he made them happy. He told ' them fairy tales, while he felt bitter- ': ly that all the tales he had told them i of future pleasure and happy times were fairy tales,, too. He had always kept a revolver, and I he took it out of his pocket and sat on ' the bank. His feet were cold and wet; some water had got over the tops of his waders. That would not trouble him for long, he thought, and sighed. And yet if he put himself out of I the way, the next • man who took up the claim would probably find gold there. He was sure it was there, only it had evaded him'so far. It was just a matter of sheer bad luck for him. Some people would say it was cow- ' ardly of him to take the quickest way , out of all his difficulties; but they would not know how he had suffered. It was dreadful to leave Phyllis and the children, harder than anyone could realize. His eyes were full of tears as he thought of them. Oh, no one knew how it would hurt him to teari himself away. I But it was the only^hing he could do to help those he loved. He held the revolver to his forehead, wondering whether he had placed it where death would be instantaneous. j Phyllis would grieve, but it would only be for a time; the children would cheer her up. He recalled their faces, their ways, how they always greeted him. He seemed to hear their voices. Oh, it was so hard to leave them. Supposing he waited just one more day! An excuse for the delay came easily. He would sell his waders, saying that they weren't high enough. The shovel, the cradle, and his other tools he dare not s«ll lest he might arouse suspi- cions as to what he meant to do. He sprang up, as happy for a mo- ment as a criminal reprieved on the scaffold. Yes; he would go to the camp and sell the waders, and with the money buy food. How pleased the children would he. Phyllis would not approve of the sale of the gum boots; she would realize how bad it would be for him standing all day in cold water, but he would laugh at her fears. They would be quite happy on his last night on earth. He was glad he had thought of this. He wanted to leave them happy. The camp was in the valley below; he could see it plainly. When he got a little farther along he could .see his own shanty, built of stones and clay mostly, but so precious becau.sc it held Phyllis and the little ones. Most of the men had waders, and few had any cash to spare. But at last he got five dollars for them, and spent two of these in bread and cheese, tea, sugar, and condensed milk. "Seth, dear!" Phyllis cried when he arrived with his load. "Oh, my dear, has your luck turned?" I "1 think so," he said, glad that she did not notice he had not his waders with him. The children came running up, Dick leading the way. He kissed them, hungry for their love, and they gave it bountifully. He was their big play- mate, and they were never so happy as when with him. No one could t#il them such wonderful stories, no one could invent new games as he did. They believed that he was the very heat and cleverest man in the world â€" he, the failure! I Phyllis had tea ready in quick time, , and although Seth assured her that he , had had all he wanted nt the atoresi, she would not commenic until he sat jdown too. I Then it was hard wo'-k not to de- '' vour all that she place*! before him. I lie was ravenous, yet when she cut {him three thick slices of bread he put back two and aald he couldn't pouibly eat more than one. That one he at* as slowly as he could, and it was nicer than any food he had ever tasted. He clenched his hands. It was ao hard that he could not even have bread for his wife and children when there was so much food in the world. He noticed how carefully Phyllis ate. She had cut two thin slices for herself, and he knew that she was thinking of the morrow, and denying^ herself, as usual. Well, on the morrow there would come an- end to her troubles, save for one pang, which she would get over iu time â€" the sorrow at losing him. _ After tea the children played out- side, and she came and sat beside him on the box that did duty for a chair. "How much did you pan out?" she asked. "The children would like por- ridge, and it is so good for tbem." He gave her the three dollars he had left "Get it by all means, dear," he said. "You're the best of mothers!" She looked fondly at the children, who were laughing and shouting. "They've got such loving little ways, haven't they, dear?" she said. He gulped. That was why it was so hard to leave them. They were like their mother â€" too good for him. He turned and kissed her. "I'd give my life to make you all three happy," he said brokenly. "I know that, dear," she said softly. "But your life is our most precious asset. Dear old Seth!" And she stroked his hair with caressing fin- gers. What she said unsettled him for a moment. Then he reasoned that his death must buy her happiness. She would grieve for him, certainly, but grief passes. The dead are only re- mombered with regret that never lasts for long. "The children went up to your claim to-day," she said, "but they found a pretty little cave, and stayed playing there, because 1 told them not to worry you while you were working." "I wish I'd seen them," he said. His work had all been wasted. He would have been better off playing with the little ones â€" for almost the last time, he told himself. A prowling, half-starved dog came sniffing up to Dick, and then made a grab at a crust in the boy's hand, which he had been keeping to play at "cooking a dinner" with. The dog got it and went off, but Dick quickly dived his hand in his pocket, pulled out a stone, and threw it after the thief. "Bad dog! You should have asked properly!" he said. "They're lovely heavy stones," he remarked, and brought out another to show his father. "Let's see it," Seth said, and, taking it in his hand, asked hurriedly, "Where did you get this?" "From the cave," Doris answered, for Dick was rather frightened by the abruptness of his father's manner. "We made a sand-castle, and these were under the sand," the child added. "Give me the lotâ€" quick!" Seth cried, and with trembling hands emp- tied the boy's pockets. "What is it dear?" Phyllis asked anxiously. . "Not â€" not gold?" He nodded. His heart was too full for speech. A few minutes after he was at the Advice. If you stop to find oat what yoor wages will be And how they will clothe and (eed you, Willie, my son, don't you go to the Soa, For the Sea will never need you. If you ask (or the reaeon of every com- mand. And argue with people about you, Willie, my son, don't you go on the Land, For the Land will do better without you. If you stop to consider the work yoti have done, And- to boast what your labor is worth, dear. Angels may coma (or you, WlUle, my son. But you'll never be wanted on earth.j dear I -^Rudyard Kipling.' Dandruff. Bootlegger, of Course. __ _ Visitor â€" "Did you say that stylishly assay of fi'cV,' his "handful' of TtoneVon^^'^.®*^®^.'^°™*° ^^^ y°^^ ""o*' P"^°- the table. "Luck at last, Seth boy!" the assay- er said, examining the stones. Like most others in the camp, he knew what a rough time Seth had gone through. minent bootmaker's wife?" Native â€" "0( course not! Our most prominent bootlegger's wKe." WHEN BAKING FISH. ,,„,, ^, ..„..„, . .1 Place a sheet of waxed paper on Whats your opinion?" Seth asked j the bottom of your pan before baking "%Ver forty per cent gold." The as- 1 ^''^^ ,?*•'" ^'^^'^ ^" f "^ *""" ** P*"' sayer took a file and used it "Over ?'',«^. ^^^ PfJ**' ="" ^? removed after fifty per cent. I should say. At fifty baking without trouble. The idea is they're worth" â€" he put them in his to make the washing of the pan easy, scales â€" "over two thousand dollars.! *nd thiiS remove the objectionablo part of baking fish. Found a pocket, I suppose?" "Yes," Seth said. "Put these in your safe for me. I'll came again." And he hurried back to his hut "Come on, all of you! Bring a lan- tern!" he said on his return. "Thank Heaven! Thank Heaven! You won't go hungry any more!" They ran almost all the way to the cave. Seth was urged on by an awrful fear that someone might be there be- fore him, but it was as the children had left it â€" their sand-castle still stood strong and bold. He took nls shovel and threw the sand on one side, and under it, among worthless stones, were a fair propor- tion of small nuggets, carried down by the stream centuries before, when it had made the cave. They persuaded the weary but ex- cited children to lie down on the soft sand, and Seth went on working, add- ing now and again to the pile in the corner over which Phyllis was watch- ing. Now and again Seth would stop and kiss his wife and glance down at the' your hands, sleeping children, his heart overflow-; Keep a bottle handy by the kitchen •Ink ing with love and gratitude. â€" - "The pocket yielded go'.d worth over $6,000, and with it Seth bought ai farm; but he never told Phyllis how! nearly he had lost the chance that for- tune had kept for him. He tvied to forget it and to make amends by helping those who needed . help. After Dishwashing! CAMPANA'S ITALIAN BALM ia simply wonderful tor keeping the hands beautifully white and soft and smooth. Positively pre- vents redness and chapping. Uss it at once after washing dishes, and note the improvement of Minard't Liniment Heals Cuts. -* - Nor ties of blood, A smile ofttimes endears; a pressure oi the hand â€" and we are friends. â€" J. T. W. WOMEN CAN DYE ANY GARMENT, DRAPERY To^suRpl V the. . steadily increasing demand ft)r ,*^ EDDYS MATCHES Eddy's make I20MILLI0N matches a day Dye or Tint Worn, Faded Things New for 15 cents. Diamond Dyes Don't wonder whether yon can dye or tint successfully, because perfect home dyeing is guaranteed with "Dia- mond Dyes" even if you havo never ilyed before. Druggists have all eol- ors. Directions in each packag*. JIG-SAW PUZZLE roa TBB CHILDREN. Juitâ€" Sand four TrrappMffom "CUBES r»0»oLlmi««J.aa2 UT.r>mj 9t..iloii«t>»l. >