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P-Y-R-A-M-I-D
P-i-l-e C-u-r-e
Does Away With Knife, Nurse And A
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keeps on until a cure is consummated.
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Yours for a speedy remedy in the
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PYRAMID DRUG COMPANY, 219
Pyramid Building, Marshall, Mich.
HER LAST EXPERIMENT.
Evelyn Watson.
THEY had begun their wedded
life in the usual way—mutual
vows, promises, visions, and an
unpretentious house in a quiet but
highly respectable neighborhood.
Harold Edwards was a promising
young lawyer, good looking and popu
lar with both sexes. Mrs?. 8 Edwards, as
Selma Thornborough, had been the
petted beauty of the exclusive circles
in the West End, and had chosen her
husband from a score of ardent suit
ors.
To Selma he seemed an almost
faultless being, and, indeed, the young
man was held “an exceptionally fine
fellow” by all who knew him. The
first cloud that floated across the se
rene expanse of their horizon came
in a most peculiar and unexpected
form. In his youth Harold had ac
companied an eccentric uncle on a
wild trip through Central America.
For nearly two years after his gradu
ation from college they had traveled
about in the most erratic fashion
wherever Colonel Newton’s whims
carried them. Harold had learned
many things in those two years, and
had acquired many accomplishments.
Among others —from this same uncle —
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the deplorable one of giving vent to
the most unimpeachably finished oaths
that ever fell from man’s lips.
Harold himself was unable to say
just when he had fallen into this em
barrassing habit, but suggested as its
starting point the idle mim'c ng of Mr.
Newton’s remarkable utterances. Then
almost before he knew it, his own flu
ency in profane expressions became as
unparalleled as that of the doughty
colonel.
In his visits to Selma Thornborough
there had been nothing to call forth
any violently emphatic language. And
so this one flaw in her gem of a hus
band had escaped the dear little wo
man’s notice.
But one day, when the first strange
ness of their married life had worn
away, and a careless messenger had
blundered abominably over a matter
of some importance, the old words
came back to Harold’s lips so easily
that he scarcely noticed his wife’s hor
ror. Os course, he made immediate
amends and soothed hei’ with all sorts
of explanations.
But somehow after the old habit
resumed its hold upon him, and the
lapsus linguae became more and more
frequent.
“Harold, it is terrible —terrible! You
say you try, but —I can not bear it any
longer,” said Selma at last. “I am
obliged to hear these frightful things
day after day—they are becoming fa
miliar to my ears. Harold, I beg of
you to break yourself of this habit;
you do not try hard enough. What if
I, too, should fall into your ways of
profanity? Oh Harold!”
“But, my dear. What a scene about
a trifle! I don’t mean to let these
things out before you, Selma, but they
will slip. Try it yourself and you’ll
soon see.”
He raised her tearful little face and
kissed the pouting lips.
“By the way, Selma,” he called
back, as he opened th? door to go,
“I’ve asked Whitehead to dine with us
tomorrow night.”
It was raining drearily. And as Sel
ma went sadly up the stairs to her
pretty boudoir she felt that the skies
fitly reflected the dullness of her
heart. Evening found her outwardly
calm, but still despondent. No sleep
name to her troubled mind, when at
last she laid her throbbing head on
her pillow. All through the long
hours she lay awaKe, pondering the
difficult problem before her. The
thousand and one small sounds of the
night—the ticking of the clock, the
faint snapping of the window frame —
struck upon her ear with exaggerated
distinctness, and her heart throbbed
with noisy insistent beating. Those
words, so carelessly uttered, came
back to her again and again: “What a
scene about a trifle —they will slip —
try it yourself—try it yourself—try
it—”
She startled; an idea flashed
through her mind. Well, why not?
Could she in any way impress the
matter upon Harold-more strongly?
The plot took form and seemed mo
mently more plausible. Arranging the
details she fell asleep.
She awoke the next morning with
the determination to put into execu
tion the plan conceived in the night.
All day she repeated aloud the familiar
oaths till at last they came quite eas
ily and she felt that she had a fair
stock of profanity stored away for the
eventful occasion.
When Harold came home that even
ing she was as fresh and dainty as a
new-blown rose.
The dinner table looked most invit-
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in nr
ing. Mrs. Edwards had brought all
her ingenuity to bear, and the result
was a faultless menu served with ex
quisite taste. Harold was pleased and
he smiled approvingly at the little
flushed face opposite him and felt the
old thrill of pride in her beauty and
grace.
Selma could scarcely control the
trembling of her hands as she lifted
her glass to her dry lips, and glanced
covertly at her unsuspecting victims.
The first course was safely on the ta
ble, and Mr. Whitehead and Harold
launched into conversation about a
new book which was creating quite a
sensation in the literary world. Pres
ently they appealed to Selma for opin
ion.
“Now—the first stroke,” she
thought. And clinching her little be
ringed hands under the table, she gave
gave her reply and emphasized it with
(Continued on Page 15.)
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