J-S'wpif'V' ih li :f â- U â- â- I ?i lU im' nii m .^^ «^ NEMX). T^«W^« fiSSK*^"" of tke niitfcl^akiai, tke g«iitl»TippI»'of kftTcs, the nlT«ii^light of the moon. dark haodaom^BMie of mylororâ€" I dand in __ _^^__ _^^ ^^ ___ my own iwart nje tho wordâ€" -wera with me lT)dni«)oii." she went on narvoaa^.' In my dremm. llie WBgof the Bi g h g ii g «m f^^MtSr i^' teT iind for ydoT and my loreri TOioe blended harmonioiuly. sreetiog my em with iweet melody ai I dreamed on of themonow. "Felicia â€" scod night. FeHoiar wm the bmNtamei 4iu^wm fody; and its raviahing etraini fcdl wothiog- ly on my â- eneee, "To-morrow" was come. The ran wae gilding the earth with ita reeplendeafc nyi, the birda auroUed their aoDgi of delight^ tha gende wind, kiaains the flowers, inkfted weir perfame abroa£ Nello was coming tO tell me "« hat it all meant." I knew tiiat one word ezplsined it, and that that wv»d was "lore." He was cominjgr. Patienoe â€" hewonid be here soon, and then my Ufe would be oiowned by the possession of his lovel I was standing under the spreading eedar bonghe, anticipating in thongfat the happi- ness that was to be mine, when a letter was brought to me. I had gone thither knowing that lie must paM by the spot. The golden sunlight that pierced through the drooping boughs waa warm and pleasant. He would stand betide me, and he wpuld tell me "what it all meant." Taking the letter firom tiie beaier, a thrill passed through me. I knew by instinct that the note waa from him, I opened it hastily. It ran thus â€" my first lovo. letter â€" "I had hoped to be with yon to-day, Fel- icia, as I have much to aay to you. But I have tt»* "°"'^®*^ a telegram from my ag«n%B in Ireland, amd.ti T*"****"*^® •" Jf^P^'ty there fiom utter desiracUon, 1 muT* f° ** once. I shall not be long absent. I hope to be back with you before thenightingaleshaTe ceased to sing." Though the sun was shedding its War*tui around, a sudden grey chill fell o-^^ every- thing. All the gold seoir-^^ i^\tA^ from Annette, fmr she seemed "He came soon after ab(mt«au(t io unlike heaell. yon had gone .to ••H« yoo, bat T yoa. ahqold have one mora happy thonght "Mr Benson wonld never make hie nn- j," I langhiii «Ha ia aliwya tha bear- ot gool news to me." She looked at ma wiatfally. "Mr. Benstmdeairaaaloiigtalk with yon on buauMBB-mattwa," sfaeezplained. "Yoa had better defer it until after dinner." "I wiU do that with pleasure," I answer- ed lit le imagining the nature of the bnsi- of J re way to mv between tmili worda "My oonain'a mod my heart to ~d have tolf its bitter little tooiâ€"tha h» of the bright- «T. Uf^hp h«i b«n -o kmd to m. « «2 Mr!W54w6a had kissed ma, and had p»- ItbedPto marry me when »»• »«^ »•«' ^SS worldl Ha Dd manried soma w» "^;;"5 Imustgivewaytphi. chill, the .ightfoj lieir to Jesmond Dena. Stffl my Jh*" warmed to him for my *» oJWwn • to depart from iee. the the Bunlightk tfck* P*"' „„„ Sn^n^ rose before my eyes as I saw It waa^B. uaappiness dashed to the ground. SeSJ" .t"t?Lrrow"afterall; and! re- mar- red how people always said that to 3 ' .ow never came. Bat he would return. ' »elt ttrieved, disappointed, but not fearful. Lady Saxon had often spoken to me of their Irish estate, Locofin, and had Mpresaed a wish that Lionel would sell it. The tenants were always in rcbellionagainat the agent, and she was nervous lest harm should come to her son. He langhed at the idea. He was noc afraid of disaffection or optn rebellion, so he had gone amongst them; and 1 WfcU the summer was not over, the roses ted to blocm. All would so Feliciaâ€" I have to talk to you hd not ceatc_ .. -^ come right if I had bnt.the patience to wait, I should sjonsgain see the face I lovea K But, notwithstanding my self-administer- ed solace, a chill had come OTer the warm summer day, and I wondered vaguely why I had allowed my own lite to be to oomplet- ly absorbed in hia. Why should this terri- ble dread poasess me because he was not with me? And whatâ€" oh.the horror of itl- what if he never came back! An hour afterwards, while I was standing under the cftdarsa second letter came. Itwas from Lady Saxon. Brief, but to the pomt, it ran â€" "Come and comfort me, lost my son again! I want about him." .^ j I went at once. Aunt Annette kissed me with a quiet smile. I think she understood more of my a£Eairs than she chose to let me "My son, my son!" That was the burden of Lady Swon's cry; yet she was not sorry that he had gone to Ireland, for she firmly believed in his abiUty to aUay the anger aroused against his agent. "When the peo- ple see him, they will be sure to love him, she argued with motherly pride. "There could be no batter cure tor disaffection than seeing and comveraiDg with my And when the day was over she walked with me to the end of the drive. "fouhave comforted me greatly, Fe- licia," she said. "What should I do with- out you I wish you were my own daugh- ter." A few mments afterwards sheadced â€" "Oh, Felicia, I should be the happiest woman in the whole wide world if Nello fell in love with you, and you agreed tj marry him! I wonder, if he asked you to be his wife, whether you would say 'Yes' I almost think you would." I could laugh happily at the wards, knowing what he had whispered to me. "My daughter Felicia," she murmured when I had taken my seat in the pony-oar- lifge â€" "fair as the sweetest flower that blows." And with those pleasant words rmgmg m my ears I hastened home. The last rays of the setting sun were fall- ing over Jesmond Dene as I drew near; a golden light lingered on the distant sea. on the pine-wood, on the rushing river, on the sreen pastures and the picturesque pile of buildings which I had learned to love so well. No warning of coming tempest came to me; no shadow lay on theloYoly Dene: no presentiment of coming evil possessed me, but there at the great entrance door, looking pale and anxious, stood my aunt Annette. She held out her hands to me as lascand ed the flight of marble steps. "Welccme home, my dearl" she said; but there was a strange ring in her voice, and a troubled look snts on her face. "Yon look tired, Felicia," she oontinned; "you must have a glass of wine. Come in here with Had I been leas ergrossed in my own love story, I should have known frtm Mr Ben- sen's nervous hesitating manner that some- thing (rf more than usual imporkanoe was amiss. While I was talkuog so the grave old lawyer, while I was dining with him, I was in fancy looking into my absent lover's faoe and listening to the notes of the night- ingales. "Can you spam an hour this evening," irquiredMr. Benton; "or shall I defer my business nntil the mcruTng?" Ik appeared to me that he was not unwill- ing to defer it. I had never seen him so im- like himself â€" confused, hesikating, glancing at me strangely, beginnmg a speecb, then endii g abruptly. I said to bim at last â€" "Yon are not wel, Mr. Bsnson." " No, I am in great distress," he an« swered. "In distress?" It was such a strange con- fessipn for h}in to make. ' Id distress?" I repeated. "You are not ill, I hopef" You have not met with any misfor- tune " • •! am not ill, and the misfortune that do- preeses me is not mine," ha said. ••Not youi si" I exclaimed; and kii grave manner gave an additional significance to his words. i. "The fact is," he contmued, looking at me, "I have, for the first time in my pro- fessional life, made a terrible mistake." I could only repeat the words, "A ttrribla mistake!" ^. .. ,. i. "It is not often that lawyers do that, he said. "They are generally very cautious. I fear that in this particular business I have betn neither. A lawyer," he coatmued, "above sll m-a, should well cjtsider every step he takes. In this one case I did not." He was talking tn a girl whose whole soul vibrated to the mnsio of the nightingales and the sound of her lover's voice; and even those wcrds, portentous as they were, did Eot startle her. "Yet," he continued, " I cannot see how I could have helped it, or how I am to bUme, though blame must lie somswhere." "It does not lie with you, I feel sure," I sii, with a faint attempt at consolation.and as a'proof of my confidence in his legal acute- ness. "The worst of it," he oontinned, "is that the mistake I have made afiftoks ir^irdLSrur«£w^'£ where he b«l lafl her. ft wm lapr rented me. Somewhat to my surprise, she led the way into one of the imsll drasring-rooms that we seldom used, and stood by in silence while I drank the wine. "There is a little snrpriae for yon, Feli- cia," she began in a trembling voice. "Mr. Benson u here." Mr. Benson was the family solioitor, and had for many years been intmatsd with the management of the J^smcod a£Esirs. Sir William had the most implicit faith in him. "Benson says so!" was affirmation stioi^ enouch for anything. Benson had advised him with all his investments; Benson had drawn up the irill vrhioh made me, in oon- sequenoe of Panl'^death, heiress (rf Jesmond Dene; Bensonhad brought us down to the "Then," I said, "it can be easily reme- died." For, in my ignor«nce,I did not think there could be any mistake made which would seriously affect me. "I em afraid," he went on disremrding my interposition, "it will be a terrible blow to you. Yon seem so happy here." "I am very happy here â€" indeed it would be impossible for any one to be happier," I replied. " You r»rnember the terms of Sir William's will, Miss Gtordon?" he ccntin- ned. I answered that I remembered them well. "The whole estate descended to his son Paul. The title is hereditary; the estate is not. If P«ul married and had children, it went to them. If he died unmarried, it be- came yours." " Yes and it is mine, tha k Heaven?" I said. "So I thraght. Heaven knows I thought so," he answe] ei; " but, Misa Gordon.it ap- pears that Paul was married. Hs has lait a widow and an only son." CHAPTER VL The lawyer's words fell likn p3is3ned ar- rows en my heart. Paul had \\i\ a widow and an only son! That meant that I was no lorger mistress of Jesmond Dene â€" that the splendid inheritance I had planned to do eo much good with had sUpped from my grasp. There was silence between us for some time â€" a silence fraught with unutterable horror to me. Mr. Benton broke it at last. "I blame myself," he said. "I ought to have made enquiries, and have been satisfi- ed beyond the possibility of a doubt that Paul Jesmond had not married; I ought to have ascertained that before helmng to plaee yoa In poasosaion. lam aaidit ia a terrible blow to yon," he added. "Yes, it is," I repliedâ€" so great a blow that I caimot at present realize it. It haa stnimedme." "It stunned me," said Mr. Banson. "I sras for many hours qnite unable to com- prehend the residt of this deplorable blun- der. Now I see plainly enough what I ought to have done. I ahoud have written to In- dia for further infoimafeion before yon srere formally installed as mistreas of Jeammd Dene." "It ivonld have been better," I said me- ohanioally. "Ton are qnite rare that there ia no mistake nowf ' I added. "No, everything is too well anthen icat- ed for that. There is no mistake this time. I â€" ^I cannot tell yon how giieved I amâ€" how I blame myialf: but there bad never been ny irord of Panl's marriage. He had not mentioned it, and it aeoma to have been but little knosrn, even among hia friends in the Army. Yon bear the blow well. Miss Gor- don." Nevertheless, bravely aa I bore this crushing reverse of fortiuM,it was a terrible How to ma. For a time it had baniahed the cherished memory of n^ lover's face. But slowly it b^an to return, and I todc heart onoe more. The first thought that presented itself dearly to my mind snM thisâ€" that, if he loved me,ohange of fortune would not affsot him; and whilat I voaaeased his love nothing on earth conld affect me. As yon will remember," ,«»iitonnedT[^ Benson, "there i«a no «»«*»!|*y, ^*T!!!| rather and son. Sir iTilliam liked to aare money; Paul enjoyed spending »»• |*« fathers miserly irays made h«ne ^a»«"»*® the son. They qoarreUed fiercely before they parted, and lehonld imagine from »iie tone of the litters that passed b^,«»*»^ that they w«r» never on fnendly term* again. Sir William refnaed him an allow- anoe for some time, so deeply rooted "••his anger. He afterwards relented; brt by that time the yonn« man's heart sras hardened. I know that Sir William wrote to him se- veral times on the rabject of marriage, nr«- ing him to take great care not to be so fool- ish as to fall in loveâ€" that he must not mar- ry until he returned to England, and then he was to marry a wealthy wontan. Money was to be his firtt consideratioi*. wr Wu- liam told me all about these letters. Be add- ed also that he had never recived an aa^ swertothem. "TliataooonntSk" remarked Mr. Banson. "for the young fe llow's wBrnoe about his marriage. There is n» doubt be believed implicitly that, if his father knew of it, he would disinherit hisand lesve him penniless, for he ma.ried much beneath him, his wife having no dowry except a beamtSnt face" • "Who was she?" I asked. 'Her ntm» was Gabrielle Fairfax, ho re- plied, "and she was living in the famSy of Major Esmond as governess to his ohiB3lr«» a very unusual thing in Indian but the mai- mond children were strong and healthy, and their parents did not care to part with tfaeok Sbewasamobt beautiful and a very good gill, 80 Colond Bfosrnlow tells me, cJever and a^cornplished. belonging to a respeet- able English family. She had. of course, r © fortuna, and no prospect of ever possassusg any. PaulJewnond fell in love with and man iad her. No one knew of the muriage, except Major E. mend and his wife. Paul oarel notlstii be known, lest his father should hear of it. He never apoke of lt,even to his most intimate friends; bat he told Major Esmond that when he retnned to England he should take bis wife straight to Jesmond Dene, and trust to her lovely face »o win bim his father's forgiveness. Miss Gordon, I can hejir in fancy nis cheery yoang voice ssying, 'When my faiher sees her, he will relent.' He was alwas8angniae,poor Paul!" I knew thatâ€" my bright-faced hanlscma cousin! Mr. Banson went on â€" "He rented a pretty little house on the Neil^herry H Ui for his wife, and they liv- ed happilf for two years no one guessina hii secret. A son was born there; and Paul Je3m3nd who knew the importance of that son's birth, took the precaution o( having ik properly registered, and of keeping a copy of the registration. The chil 1 was christen- ed by the resident ohailain, who, in hit tern, faithfully kept the promise of secrecy that he had given. Paul took yet another pre- caution, which, for one so habitua ly care- leis as himielf, seems to me somewhat re- mukable. He gathered together the need- ful papers â€" his certificate of mariiige, and the oertUicate of his son's birthâ€" and pl^- ed them together, with a long letter to his father, telling bim all the siory of his mar- riage, and b^ing, if anything happened to him, that he would be kind to bis wife and child." ' ' Lst little Guy racoeed me,' he wrote. " Dj not visit the offences of the father on the sn. However faulty I may have been, do cot disinherit my boy. My marriage may displeaee you, but yon will forgive me when you see my wife's faoe. And she is as good as she is beautiful. I loved her with all my heart. There comes to me, father, at times a presentiment that I shall die young. If I do, be kind to my wife and iohild. Lst my wife have the honor that falla to the widowed ladies of Jesmond Dane, and let my son succeed to the estate. I am your 0LI7 son, you will not refuse my prayer. I am writing this, so that, should anything happen to me, my wife may bring it in h^ hands to you, and you, in onr turn, will do justice to her." 'So runs the letter. Miss Gordon. ' By f-at time my eyes were full of tears, and I had begun to forget my own troubles, and to think only of the handsome bright eyed lad who had loved me when I was a child, and of his Itttls son. "It appears," ooatinued Mr. Benson, that Paul fell ill very suddenly with one of thoso terrible maligant fevers so common in the Eist. He had been appointed to some frlight military command where he would be detained thtes months. The name of the place to which he was sent, and where he died, waa Fa'ztbad. As a matter of couisa, he bade farewell to his srife, she kaosnng that the separatirn srould be for three months and dming tiiat time, not having »xpeoted to hear from Um, ahe waa not aax* Isn about him. His comrade t a the fatad ex pedition waa Captain Arohle Hartisan, who sraa by hia aida when he died. It seenu that on the day before his death, while some little csnacioaaness stOi remained, Paal placed a small package in Captain Harti- gan'a hands, with •these words, '*find but my wife, and give her thia to take to my father.' Gwtoin Harkigan intended to fol- fil the comnutaion at the earlieat moment but, even bef me hia friend waa UJd atreat, he himself iraa atrickan down with the same fever, and lay for some time hovering be- tween life and death. Other offioen wen •u Faisabad. and for many weeks the paokage left Captain Jesmond waa not delivered. The first thing that Cap*«in Hartigan did, when re»ftored to health, was to go to Colonel Brownlow and gave Lim Panl'a messageâ€" 'Find oat my wife, and give her this to take home to my bther.' %ie Colonel dechured that Obtain Jesmond had never married. He made the fnlleat pos- nble inqoiriea, bat oonld obtMn no ooufir- mation of any saoh marriage. ITone of Panl's brother officers knew anything of it. Major Esmond did not belong to the same regi- ment and nnfortanately just at that time he was ftiray on military businesa. so that thaie waa no one to throw any light upon where tasTttieiwomootaotthe beiy, who ett^"« SSSTtSySLi* would im .Il,F.ba.ty m his S^ SkGnTj^wSTai- rn-tiof Jes- SSSpSi. For th* oWld'a «ke •»» «oi^ granifathor â€" '||.ay .^esnsona BOB OM-K-* «• For tho ohUd'a sake stu aenled to do what ae wooW «"*^T^ Smafof bar ow.-«otert to ^^^ *^ Me her hnhwid' «»**. Jto wooMnot however, aooept nay raoort, thooRh Colonel B.ownW wSonld have phoed her under tho protootion •t an ptoer and hia wife who were shortly lotonung to England. Mrs, Ejmood imipkaod her to takeTmaid; but shatwoakl.not j ahe would travel alonoihoronlr companion baiog "«? fatherless boy. Colonel Brownlow gave her thepreoiouapaAago, ^d she saded from Calcutta in the (7a«pia»^«», and reached London safely." ... m "Seached iiondon i" i exelaixaad. ' llsen she is nearâ€" ^t* near?" "Yes," replied the lasryer gravdyt. '•Xoe nesrs of Sir William's death was not knowm in the regiment when she left, and Cohmel Brownlow, understanding that I was the fanuly solicitor, advised her to come straight to me. She did not d» so. but allowed 9, fortnight to elapse, and then she eame." "Then you have aeen her " I cried. "Yes," he answered, "I have seen her ;.' and the old lawyer was atrancidy ailenk after that. "What about her?" I askedi eagerly. "Wtiat do you think of herf "Sae ia sin^^ the most beantifnl woman I ever beheld," ha replied. "And good as beantiftd " I a^ked agaim "I could not jiudge she was not with me very Icng â€" though tong enough to convirce me that tier ulaims are valid ud legal. She is Lady Jesmond, and her son ia.Sx Guy." "Heaven blesa my oatisin's Lttla son. Sin Guy I" I managed to sinr, allthough my eyes wer« blinded with teaia. "I am glad,. I am thankful that yon bear it so well/' said Mr. ^nson, "I have never, felt so anfiona or so imhappy iib my life aa have felt over thi4 unfortunate business. Bat who would li-»ve ihonght that Pool would mtlff entire Iv ftr beauty,: ^nd then hide his wife in the Neilgherry BiUi?" I do not know what wonll have been tbe resalt of this match if Sir William had Lved." "Yon say Paul married hex entirely for her beauty surely he must have loved her?" "Yea, there is no doubt he c'il," here- plied. Stil there was a significant hesita- tion in his manner. "You do not like her " I sMd, divining, as I believed, his true thoughts. I put the quottion so suddenly that he had no time to think before he answered. "Noâ€" indeed I do not," with an air of great relief. "But ahe will be here to-mor- row. Miss Gordon. She would not come with me. but it waa arranged fibat she shonll follow ms." (TO BI OdtnNUSO.) â- THE EDUCATION OF '"^PDSSY." with pofltiUJi^B^ •â- * i-a-u 1 n. ^rtod with oS^ ***^^^ iMterUa^aaooiuiiaioaa of 'oil ofMji eommeaoe witix eet i ij iiitfi it ip noffood-bencai ,tioit, or iMting of the %^ ^. form of aorofaloua disease audi ^* Inr tho iMO of that greatest of J^ cloanaing, anti-biUona and i^""i Tlie Playmi Companion of Tiro UnXorta* antes. Prince Krapotkin's experiment with 'Pa.-sy," the companion ot his captivity, aa Deen repeated Ly M. Smile Gautiar, his fellow prisoner, whs dijving h:s detention at Cloirvaux bos studied vary closely the in- telligence of the Oikt. The result of his ex- periments are published in the iievue Scien tifique. M Gantieraays: "It is literally true what Krapotlun says, that ' Paesy' â€" whote/ education, it should be mentioned, has been porticuLuly carefulâ€" recognize^ her imaee in a glass, distinguishes the different sigos ol the prison clock, plays hide-and- Siek with the same seriousness and the same interest as little children, etc. It is also correct that she underatauds (%t least she behaves as if phe understood) the significance of a few words. I am even disposed to be lieve that she is not indiffercQt to Gounod's music. Bat these are not the most xurpris- ing features. Among those which Krapot- kin has omitted to oite there is one which has always struck me more than all others, and which I now snbmit to yon. I ought to toll you that nature has ornamented my head with a luxurious mass of hair. Krapot- kin. on the other hand, is extremely bald. This difference waa iiasd by oar little r ,in- panion for a singulir intrigu^. It baa often happened when both pl^r«d with her that she softly passsd her paw oVer our respec- tive heads as if to aaoertain that her eyes did not deceive her. This iikspeotion con- doded and tha visnai notions oonfirmed by toaoh, her ^yaiofgaomy took t^ air of eonuo rarprlas. Toe variety of sensations perplex- ed her, and she did not disaimalato the ieal- iog. Nearly every avening the aoana was gone through, to our sreat edification, as you may imagine. Anouer atraage thing waa her aaaoeoontobla fear of tho warders. She had been bom within tho walls of the priami, rad bjdonged to an old (anuly ot i»ison cata. Heredity and the infiaenco of the aama snr- roandinga onu^t to have ovoroome tUa aati- Mthy. ThjhL howover, waa not the okm. ITo aooM did aha «apy tto abhoctad nniform attha end of tho doradtoi^ inr oeU than ah« fled mth every aign of terror. Evan ii one held her at the moment it was pnident to M her go at onte, othorwiae ahe knew how to aoratch. Nothing wmi of any nse, neither MMl* nor frornoa. With w, on the oon- nan, ahe allowed heraelf all kinds of mi* li a nfa ea. â- »U«j;, aa tiiey were retnraii^t from ohuroh: "This U the fast line." nm»kti paoaenger on a train which had â- Stli"** siritoh abpat half an hoar. 'tIl °" another, " it soemi to be tut na^n ^^ Many imitators, but no eaaaL ii,. i. Sage'aOaiarrh Remedy. ^^'«»fir. Love is blind, very blind-when th. .• isnoh. ""M B*w to Sav» Money Hid wo might also sayâ€" time and dm« wall, iJk orar advice to housekeeni^ ** ladies gonwral^. The great necSyl? ladog always to have a perfecay nilz_ mady coavenient for the relief sad proiJrt core of tho ailmonts peculiar to n^^^ foiMJtional irregularity, cwwtantpuMtoJ all the symptoms attendant upon utoSr diaordersâ€" induces us to recommS Btrcngly and unqualifiedly Dr. pj " "Favorite Prescription" â€" ffoman'j^ friend. It will imve money. The Jiji ShamiH) is a Jipaaesenewmnsr Not a bad pablica ioa for perasal whwu barber's choir. Thea Tell It» To the victim of pains and aches as tid- ings cattgive greater pleasure than tin meana- of relief. Poison's NBvim« «. actly fills the bill. Nerviline curearlieu. matuNU' Nerviline cures cramps. ]Jervi. line cares headache. Nerviline is sure in lumbago. Kerviline, the great cue foi i mtomal or external pains. Trial botflei costing only lOs. may be had at any drag atore. Boy one and tost it. Large bo? 'ties of Nerviline only 25c at all drag- gisto. Kerviline,. nerve pain cnre. The lad wbo was pounded by aittther lad to whom he owed a cent, 00 w declmi the other fellow waa "penny wise and pound foolish." Wfaall Limping let I- Why shonld you go limping around when Pitnam's Painless Corn Exrut- TOR will remove your conw in a few days, It will give almost instar^D relief and a guaranteed cure in the end. Be sore you get the genuine Putnam's. G^rn Extractor made by Poison Co., Kingaton, k many substitutes are being offered,, and it is always better to get the best. Safe, sure,, and p.*inleaa. y-' "Coofidenca is a pUnt of slow grovtb," If tbi.1 were true, the banko steeret would not be sosucceesfuS as he appsan to be. Toms Men !â€" Bead Thte. Thb VoLTAio B£Li! Co., of Manhill, Mich. ..offer to send their celebrated Elk- TBO-YoLTAio ^LT and other Elestuo Ai- PUONOBS on txial for thirty days, to mo )yoang or old) afflicted with nerrooa debili' ty, loss of vitality, and all kindred troalda Aliso f or rheamatism, neuralgia, panJpi, and many other diseases. Complete rsitor- ation to health, vigor and manheod gojiu.- teed. No risk is incurred as thirty diyi' trial is allowed. Write them at onoe fur illustrated pamphlet free. The Venetian gondolier has a peculk way of tying up his craft i Jafifit, ititW moor of Verise. Catarrn-A New TreaansBt Perhaps the most extraordinaysaooesav has been achieved in modem scimceM»«« attained by the Dixon Treatment of o«^ Uut of ajOOO patients treated dann« mw six montbs. (nl^ ninety pw^centhawwa riILL Dress C Toraato, Ont. Cutting. PfWf- naoi G\f erine-TheS'f^j MABIC 'didn't yoa en jo^ the aennonf ** "Enjoy the sermon r ahe repeated- ly, "and that odions Mrs. Smift^ "he repeated, iAort J. ., â€" • Mrs. Smith 1 ^!??/-â„¢_^* ' "*• *»*»• ""w faU wrap Bouquet Oil Bath Oatmeal Soap, and Baby'sOwn The Albert Met Soap Pnrityjand Excejlf Ski w AVBoMlbraUlMdiBK ar-i*!tl .-8T. JOII BXBIBfflW' aitting on tut never ooat a cant leas than Yon mast think 1 have a vwy AnQBg ^â- 11^*â€" â€" .a. M w 9125. reli- ^i g^JfSrlu^rStorLejgf, I^^Bngine Hose were aooo«»r hlbitlon, to ROBIN SAW*""" all competitors. I cured ot this atukbom malady. Tl" » !.„ the leas startlina; when it ia Mniembewfl.n» not five per cent, of the patients presMM thMnselves to the regular practttefiW » benefitted, while the patent medieuwB »» other advertised cures never record a onwij all. Startms with the daim now janeW believed ^y the most BCioatiflcJ" that the disease is due to tiM Pi«w| of Uving parasites in the tissues, Mr.^J on at onoe adapted hlP 2fti,« JS extermination this accompUshed tte cm^ I ispractioally cured, and tne permMencr ii" I questioned; as cures effected hyliuB »«fJJ1 ago are oures stiU. No one8e l^e^J tempted to cure catarrh in this mw"'*^* I other treatment has ever cured ca^JrJKl appUoation of the remedy is siniple anoo»» â- done at home, and the preaent sMSonoi^l year is the most favorable lor a sPffJ'i^ permanent cure the maiority Mj^nijc» cured at one treatmenV Surfererei^Ig" respond with Messrs. A. "i^0^ s^^ King-street West. Toronto. Canada, ano. w, stamp for their treatise on catarrli.-J"»* I Star. 1^1 E.oacmy may be wealth, bat it » 1 always a good thing to draff Mg"" on, Imnortant* _WBea foa wsw or leare New YiwL â€"-• ^pj, â- xpNSMceandOaRi«effire.»iidstopUu^ g SES-«S!f^'tfta«go^^| stages and elerlit^ railrowls to f'^^Vi^l Uiea oan Uve better (or leas moaer stU' on. Hotel thauas aa? other flifWciMs »o«al in «" Bvretummaa. FM/^\ ' Saw ttnv^Hl^il Hayss, Ogtlry a Oo.. Toronto. The White iSwi and w have! ssn on fan enlytl Of the are the rtlCCCI or the teenw thehrt some lo and in I The be to eome t mostrf The da' are selecuoi the best eonntl^ males, tory. qoalitie bone an greatly A lit may not Septeml Beikshii stock: much so ized the tance of satisfact wish to 'j^itf*" .,«%-: