Newspaper Page Text
AT BENSON HARBOR.
By Anna S. Richardson.
Copyright, 1901, by Anna S. Richardson.
• D'ye mean to say, Dave, that you’ve
trusted that girl with the telegraph
cipher?”
■ yes, and with a good deal more, in
cluding the affairs of my clients.”
The absolute evenness and calmness
of David Graham's tones should have
warned his impetuous brother, but the
latter plunged blindly on.
Never knew a woman that could
keep her mouth shut!”
Then you’ll meet one now—Miss
Maitland!”
The click of the typewriter In the
Inner office moved on as smoothly as
if the operator's cheeks were not
aflame, nor her eyes flashing. By the
time she appeared in the doorway In
response to the third summons, the
uanger signals had subsided.
• Miss Maitland, my brother, John.”
Young Graham acknowledged the in
troduction as best he could under the
quiet scrutiny of Helen Maitland’s
clear gray eyes, and slipped away with
an air of evident relief.
"She looks you square in the eye,
which is more than most women do,”
he murmured ungallantly as he hur
jied toward the elevator.
No name adorned the ground-glass
door of David Graham’s office, situat
ed at the end of a dark corridor in the
tow ering office building. Those who had
need of his services knew where to find
him. As for the rest of the world the
less it knew of his movements the bet
ter he was suited. For Graham was a.
successful private detective, quiet, un
ostentatious, inscrutable, and he look
ed for his clients in the very hub of
the financial world—Wall street.
That is how he happened to get the
Worrell case. All the Manhattan secur
ity and investment company incorpora
tion asked of Graham was the return
of the money and bonds with which
young Worrell had absconded. They
had no intention of prosecuting the son
of the institution's founder. The one
horror which the situation held for the
company was publicity. The fact that
so solid, so conservative a firm had
been wantonly, flagrantly fleeced was
to be suppressed at any cost, even that
of the hypothecated funds.
Helen Maitland knew all this and
more, the names and numbers of the
stolen bonds, the color of the young
man's eyes and hair and the number
in his watch. She had innumerable
specimens of his handwriting in per
sonal notes and business letters, a half
dozen of his photographs, and a pic
ture of the woman in the. case, a
stage beauty who stood in the front
row of a Broadway chorus.
Graham was annoyed at the slow
ness of his progress in the case. No
trace of Worrell had he found abroad
or in Canada, and the fact that the
stage beauty still haunted Broadway
inclined the detective to the belief that
the absconding cashier was shrewdly
hiding in New York, pending the sub
sidence of interest In the case. Hence
he had called in his brother, formerly
with the city detectlee bureau, to fol
low the scent through the most prom
ising quarter*, the metropolitan lodg
ing houses.
Before his brother was fairly out of
the building, Graham, In his terse,
business-like fashion, had gone over
the ground with Helen. The gray-eyed
stenographer gave a sigh of relief.
1 am glad to hear that Mr. Graham
will be with you for a while, for X—l—”
David Graham compressed his lips
suddenly. She was about to tender her
resignation. Well, a trifling matter like
increased salary should not stand be
tween them.
"Yes?" he said, encouragingly.
Why, you see, Mr. Graham, we've
been so busy, and—and, well, perhaps
you have forgotten the fact, but I've
had no vacation this year.
No, Graham had not forgotten the
fact. All summer long he had postpon
ed offering her the vacation because—
and now he woke suddenly to the sel
fishness of his attitude—he could not
endure the thought of the office with
out her presence. Week after week he
had salved his conscience with the be
lief that he had never put In such a
busy summer. He had no intention,
however, of telling Helen all this. She
"as far too valuable an employe to be
frightened away by any expression of
sentimental nonsense. Better to have
her near In the role of stenographer
than not at all.
That Is so. Miss Maitland, and let's
see- this is Nov, 10. Rather late to turn
summer girl, eh? Shall you go to Sar
atoga or l-ong Branch?"
Helen smiled at his unexpected
Pleasantry. He was always so grave,
so absorbed In the complications of his
bents. •
Neither. Mr. Graham. You see we
r New Englander*, and my mother
still occupies the small home*t*ad at
Henson Harbor. We'v never been
"eparaied on Thanksgiving day, and
l and like to spend my two weeks wUh
h*r and brother Jim.”
" r eitatnly, I'm a New Englander
'nyself, and know just how you feel,
'hough there Is no mother, nor old
homestead to entice me away from
York this year. Juet remind me
■fstutdar to make out your check for
'hr 'station eatery, end I hope you'll
h *JJd * pleasant time "
t'iien Helen went beck to her type
''*** nd ‘ii •hum apparentiy re
■d hie i ofcitstwxie on the Worrell
# 1 lie #of ill# kfti'li
*r*t*d ta e ft owe,
• # f #
**'■ **** 000#* iiVtfr*4rf 00 iU# 0(0 #lO
or the . out who
LIEBIG Sr*
OF BEEF always at hand both for fla
voring soups and sauces as well as for
making that handy cup of hot beef tea,
will oblige by sending her address to
Dauchy & Cos., P. O. Box 718, New York,
N. Y. She will receive free, a useful
cook book.
It?” asked Helen, as she stood at the
small-paned window of her mother’s
cottage and watched the night fog set
tle down on the jagged coast rocks.
She pictured Broadway at the same
hour, the crush of people homeward
bound, the brilliant windows, the
gleaming electric signs. And- here
were the bleakness and blackness of
night, all unrelieved.
"Stand what?” asked her mother,
placidly trimming the lamp. ”1 hope
one year in New York hasn’t made
you hate your old home.
‘‘Hate it! Never! I was only think
ing of you and how lonely it'must be
for you when I am gone. I do wish
you’d let me take a little flat, and—”,
“Nonsense, child. I’d never be happy
away from the sea. Now there’s Mr.
Warner, he’s been stopping six weeks
with Ged Harper’s folks. He came
down here just to get away from the
bustle and excitement of New York—
says he can’t Write there."
“Write what?” queried Helen, still
staring out Into the gathering gloom.
“A book — novel. He says
New York life scatters his ideas.”
“Lots of other people write books—
and good ones—in New York,” said
"OH, I'VE BEEN SUCH A FOOL,” HE SAID, BITTERLT.
Helen, a bit sharply. "I hope you did
not tell him i was a stenographer.
He'll be sure to offer me work, and
I want to rest every minute I'm here.”
“I never told him anything, but X
reckon he’ll be over to see you soon.
Somehow, in spite of all his talk about
wanting quiet and seclusion, I believe
he's plumb homesick for New York.
He's been counting big on your coming,
and has been over every night lately."
Almost on the heels of this remark
there came a knock on the door, and
Mrs. Maitland admitted a tall, square
shouldered young fellow, whose face,
where it was not hidden by a well
trimmed beard, showed a newly-ac
quired tan.
Helen was at first inclined to resent
the presence of a stranger on this her
first evening at home, but the feeling
gradually wore away. Glenn Warner
was so thoroughly at ease In the dim,
simply furnished front room, so debon
nair in his conversation that Helen fell
to comparing him and to his great ad
vantage, with the young men whom
she had occasionally met in the dun
colored parlor at her Harlem boarding
house. Yes, unquestionably this was a
New York man, the sort she had read
about, and had seen occasionally at
theaters or driving in the park, but
never before at such close range.
Young Warner—or was he young? His
beard and eyes wore the thumb marks
of time, but his voice was blithe, al
most boyish. He steered the conversa
tion modestly and skillfully away from
his book. Ha-had been a mere dilet
tante in collate, but this was to be
something setjpus. He would certainly
send them aftqautographed copy when
It came out, b#t In the meantime there
were pleasawter things to think
about. And here he looked
straight at Helen's beautiful gray
eyes. The well-aimed arrow fell
short. Helen was mentally arguing
whether or not she was glad he had
chosen between Benson Harbor as a
literary workshop and she did not
catch the admiring look.
By the next night she had decided In
the affirmative. She found that the in
terests of Benson Harbor were no
longer her Interests. At 9 a. m. there
had come to her an intense yearning
for the dull office at the end of the cor
ridor. At 10 she pictured Graham slow
ly, perhaps irritably, inditing his own
correspondence, for he had declared he
would have no substitute. At 12 she
saw the elevator shooting up to the
lunchroom on the top floor. At 4 the
janitor’s assistant would enter the of
fice, and she wondered anxiously if
Graham would lock up every scrap of
paper. She had looked after these de
tails. Hers was a temperament which
found Its greatest happiness In the
knowledge that she was essential to
someone. And Graham. In scores of
ways, had shown his dependence upon
her, his faith In her. By 6 o’clock she
had lost her appetite, and the sullen
roar of the surf set her wild for the
shriek and rumble of the elevated road.
When Warner arrived there was gen
uine welcome In her eyes.
And Wafner? Well, he blessed the
prospect of the next two weeks, and
returned fa his old game of love-mak
ing with the seat of one who had been
deprived of the lighter and moet en
lovable privileges of life. Not thei Ben
son Harbor could boaet of no pretty
girls, but they had proved ehy, or silly,
or Inappreclatlve, or—engaged And
Helen wm non# of thiM. Hh* nrrito
her gowns, too, almost as well as did
the women In bis own set; yes,'almost
*• well as— He frowned suddenly, then
laughed with Helen, and forgot.
The friendship progressed •• H m
only between two young people shut
In by beetling rage end eullen wgvee
On eunny morning* they rowed across
the MM to ‘be puetofti* In tha after
r ,| l# v fur loitM •'htjll,
*ri #r< *n4 frif •# fr*r rMtr'4my
O* f Wdettifl |*f
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. NOVEMBER 24, 1901.
sweater. And dimmer and weaker be
came Helen's anxiety about the condi
tion of affairs in Graham’s office.
She was a healthy, spontaneous crea
ture. and the sudden liberation from
office routine was followed by a reac
tion. The joy of her Puritan ancestors
seemed to run riot in her veins. She
was free—free to climb the rocks, to
send her boat flashing across the in
let, to fill her lungs with great drafts
of sea air—and she was glad just to
be alive. The old love for the sea and
the rock-locked town filled her heart,
and she no longer pined for the bril
liant illuminations of Broadway and
the insistent clatter of the elevated
trains.
It was the day before Thanksgiving,
and she stood In the cozy kitchen,
where the sun poured In through win
dows on three sides. An asthmatic bird,
the old household pet, chirped feebly
amidst a nest of blooming geraniums
in the south window, and the air - was
charged with savory odors.
"It don’t seem like Thanksgiving
day was to-morrow," complained Mrs.
Maitland, crimping the edges of her
third pumpkin pie. “There ain’t a sign
of storm nor snow, it's most like In
dian summer.”
"And it seems selfish to make up all
these goodies Just for you and Jimmy
and me,” laughed Helen, sniffing the
spicy air with undisguised pleasure.
“Well, you’re the prodigal daughter
and we've got to kill the fatted calf
If it’s nothing but a gobbler,” laugh
ed her mother. “I did write to Otis and
his wife, but they’re going over to the
Demmingsea this year, and there ain’t
none of our relatives near.”
“I wasn't thinking of relatives,”
murmured Helen, gazing across the
rocks and sand to where the inlet
danced and sparkled in the unusual
mellow light. But she did not add
that she was thinking of Graham and
the tone in which he had said: “There
is no mother nor homestead to entice
me away from New York this year.”
Perhaps he would really have enjoyed
coming, and she had not thought to
ask him. She pulled herself together
sharply. What nonsense! As if he
would come all the way to Benson
Harbor to take Thanksgiving dinner
with his stenographer! In truth, Gra
ham was not the stuff of which maid
en’s dreams are made. He was irritable
occasionally, blunt often, but appre
ciative always. His soft brown hair
cropped heavily above his ears, but the
fore part of his well-moulded head
was quite bald. Ingenuous blue eyes,
a stubby brown mustache that hid sar
castic lips, and bright pink spots on
either cheek, gave him an artless ap
pearance quite out of keeping with his
profession. Graham was the sort of a
man who would love a woman for
years without telling her so, and then
wonder why she did not understand.
Was not the fact that she was the ob
ject of constant attention, that he al
ways showed a desire to have her with
him sufficient evidence of his feeling?
It would be hard for him to realize
that women insist upon word of mouth
—a constant reiteration of the old, old
story.
Helen came out of her reveries with
a start. Jimmy had thrust a note into
her hand and was speeding away with
old Tige at his heels. Such mornings
are rare in brusque New England and
not to be wasted.
Mrs. Maitland was peering into the
oven and did not notice Helen’s face
as she left the kitchen. Once within
her room, Helen snapped the door,
dropped weakly on the bed and again
read the note:
“My Dear Miss Maitland: This day
Is a gem. Are you good for a climb
to the Point? Or are you immersed in
Thanksgiving preparations? Better
come out. You can feed in New York,
and you can’t enjoy sea air like this.
I’ll drop round in half an hour. Faith
fully. G. W.”
There was nothing startling in the
simple wording, yet Helen sat like one
fascinated, studying every word, every
curve of the clear chtrography. Yes,
she knew it. “G. W.” The Interlacing
of those letters -was unmistakable. In
DON’T NEGLECT
YOUR KIDNEYS
The Most Important Organa In the
Body—Symptoms of Diaeaae
anti Care—Free Advice.
The kidneys may get weak or dis
eased from a thousand and one causes;
from overwork, worry, a simple cold,
from lifting or a strain, excess, high
living, etc.
Many of our great men die from
Bright's Disease because ao many over
work themselves. Other folks suffer
from Dtabates, Dropsy, Swelling of the
Feet and Ankles, x Rheumatism. Bad
Blood, Gout, Gravel. Inflammation of
the Bladder, Sleeplessness, Anaemia,
Nervousness, Headache, Neuralgia,
Urine looks badly, with strong odor,
frequent desire to pass water, Dlxxl
ness.
All these diseases would go If the kid
neys would only do their work: If you
will take Stuart's Gin snd Buchu they
will help your kidneys do their work,
and Stuart's Gin and Buchu will de
stroy the poison so fhat a permanent
cure Is made after all elsa falls- All
the symptoms promptly disappear and
you fell better from the first dose .
Stuart s Gin and Buchu gives energy.
Ufa and power to the kidneys. They
cause the kldneya to purify th* blood,
to make It redder and healthier and
more nourishing Puts new life Into
your body, new color Into your blood,
new ambition Into your mind, new uae
lute; your mu* (* Mold it <tfMf itirM,
oi fry pr*yti4 11 •
TtiofuUfhly for twin I y yroi
llturt'i tun nJ Hu'tiu yltMii( lo
tfc# You tHy on tMt '‘ur**
for a dt#li k(4n*ri Ft*# >af4k4i i4vico
otvoi Of) frl4n#y fioufrU# *UOM r>rw
iw#ap Wuil lUfft- AtifbUb V§o*
A j
Abbeys
gtetSait
The refrigerant
qualities of Abbey’s
Salt make it a de
licious and health
ful summer drink.
When thirsty, try
*The Salt’of Salts'
At meat draft late er by id *ll tSc.&O; sod $! COpar bottla
Semple sad Booklet free on rarest
The Abbey Effervescent Salt Cos.
9-IS Murray Street, New York
For sale by LIPPMAN BROS, and
LIVINGSTON'S PHARMACY.
Graham’s safe lay two notes, signed
with the same interwoven initials.
There was no mistaking the similarity.
Then she tried a trick of which Gra
ham had often spoken, picturing War
ner’s face without the beard. Slowly
each feature stood out in her mind un
til she had a perfect reproduction of
the photographs also in Graham's safe.
And this was Grover Warner, not
Glenn Warner. The book he was writ
ing? A ruse to throw detectives oft
his track. He was simply waiting for
interest in his case to lag—then Europe
and that woman! She remembered
quite well that Graham had outlined
that very theory, temporary conceal
ment close to New York.
Ten minutes later Helen came down
stairs and called for Jimmy. In her
hand was a slip of paper.
‘‘Jimmy, dear, I want you to row
right over to the Harbor aiid send this
by wire.” She pressed a two-dollar bill
into his hand.
Jimmy stared curiously at the mes
sage. The address. "David Graham,
room 171, Edison bldg., New York,”
was all he could understand.
“Gee, Nell, this don't mgke sense.”
“Never mind, Jimmy; it will make
sense to the man who gets It, and I
want It sent Just that way. You can
keep every cent of the change.”
Jubilant Jimmy rowed off toward the
Harbor, and Helen went round Indian
Point with Warner. He noted her evi
dent despondency. It seemed as if the
sunlight had been suddenly drenched
and the air turned cold. Once perched
on the rocks, he tried to resume his old
bantering tone.
“Is your mother preparing a feast In
the prodigal daughter’s honor?”
“She called me that, too,” said Helen,
musingly.
Sudden silence fell between them. It
was Warner who finally spoke, but his
voice had lost the careless ring.
"Thanksgiving day is the time for all
prodigals to put in an appearance, isn't
it? I wonder if you had come home,
not as you are now, strong, self-re
liant, clear-eyed and honest, but bur
dened with mistakes and sins, whether
your mother would have been like the
Puritan mothers of old, closing the
doors upon you, or whether she would
open her arms and heart to you?"
"Close the doors on Thanksgiving
day? No, nor on any other day. Moth
ers—the right kind of mothers—are al
ways ready to forgive, and give us a
chance to try it over. That is a wo
man’s right and privilege—to forgive,
and make the world better for her for
giveness.
Helen spoke in a low, earnest voice.
She had forgotten everything save the
knowledge that had come to her
through those two interwoven letters.
“I wonder if my mother would look
at it that way.”
“I think so, if she’s like her son. Why
don’t you try it?”
The words slipped out unconscious
ly. Warner started and gazed at her
—uneasily at first, then quietly, al
most yearningly. She sat with her
hands loosely clasped about her knees,
her clear gray eyes sweeping the dis
tant horizon.
“O, I’ve been such a fool—such a
selfish ass—there's no chance for me,”
he answered, bitterly.
“There is always the chance —if we
make it,” said Helen quietly, but with
an odd quaver in her voice. "The
trouble is that we always wait for
someone else to offer the chance —to
make it for us.”
Warner was silent. His glance fol
lowed her’s to the horizon, where the
sunlight seemed to be casting a show
er of diamonds.
“By Jove, Miss Maitland. I believe
you’re right. I'm not going to tell you
the story of my life. You’ve been too
good to deserve such a fate as lis
tening to it—but I—well I’m very glad
you came to Benson Harbor for
Thanksgiving day.”
What was passing in his mind, Hel
en could only guess. But that the de
mon of remorse had entered his heart,
she knew. The plea of the prodigal
son was on his Ups, and she — The
sunlight danced on the waves, and on
a boat that rode the water gaily. It
was Jimmy coming back from Benson
Harbor. The message was speeding
toward New York.
For a few moments, Helen, silently
watching the oncoming boat, fought
out her fight. Should she tell him the
contents of that message? Should she
give him the chance to escape that
night? In the morning—on Thanksgiv
ing daY—Graham would come. What
steps would the detective take? Once
on their way down, when Warner was
helping her over a rough place in the
rocks, she almost clasped his hand and
told him the truth. Then, as from the
distance, came the murmur qf voices
In Graham's office. What was he say
ing?
“I'd trust her with more than that,
the affairs of my clients,”
She closed her eyes suddenly. She felt
terribly faint, and Warner almost car
ried her down to the sloping sands,
where she threw aside the thoughts
which crowded upon her like a thick
fog. With forced gayety she roused
herself and chatted volubly until they
reached her mother's cottage.
Mrs. Maitland met them" in the door.
Her baking had turned out marvelous
ly wall. She was at peace with tha
world, and hospitality incarnate.
"Won't you come over to dinner to
morrow, Mr. Warner? I think Oed
Harper’s folk can spare you. and four
looks better around my table than
three."
Warner bowed courteously over the
outstretched, work-worn hand.
"You are very kind. Mrs. Maitland. I
shall come with pleasure.” Thep he
turned to Helen. Again she had turned
pale, and her lips moved stiffly.
"We'd be very glad to see you to
morrow, Mr. Warner.”
To-morrow—and In the morning Gra
ham would be her*' Who or whst
would he bring with him? Only once
had Helen Maitland seen handcuffs,
but now the iron bracelets in hideous
guise appeared before her aching eyes.
0 0 0 0 0
“Wake up, Helen! It's a real Thanks
giving morning' The weather changed
In the nigh*, and the ground Is covered
with snow,”
Helen tried to smite Into her mother's ,
cheerful face ft had tea a bad night
for her, and now in two hours Graham
would be at Oed Harper s'
The moments fairly flew for Mrs.
Intent There were geraniums to pi f k
basUiut Mekfl tiled tv be of aemi ge
sistance. but her hands trembled when
she cut the flowers and twice she spill
ed the succulent juice when she basted
the turkey.
Ten o’clock! Graham must be at Ged
Harper's! Half-past! There came a
knock at the door, but Helen dared not
move. Her mother bustled back to
the kitchen, a puzzled look on her face.
“Lawzee, Helen." she whispered, clos
ing the door carefully, “it's the man
you work for—Mr. Graham —and he's
got a valise. I wonder if he's—
But Helen was out of hearing. At
the front-room door she paused to gain
time —and courage.
Graham stood with his back to her,
staring intently at a letter in his hand.
He turned abruptly.
"Well, he’s gone!”
“Gone!” Helen echoed the word
blankly. What had she said or done
to rouse Warner’s suspicions?
"Left on the 10:47 train last night,"
continued Graham’s blunt, unwavering
tones. “This bag and letter he order
ed Mr. Harper to send to you.”
Mechanically Helen took the letter
and bent to open the bag. But her
thought was of Graham. Was he men
tally accusing her of duplicity? She
gave a sudden gasp. The bag was fill
ed with papers. Graham knelt beside
her, a light of triumph illuminating
his stern face. She tore open the let
ter, read it hastily, and then with a
great sob dropped her face on her
clasped hands.
Graham watched her in silence:
then the veins on his throat and wrists
stood out like great cords, and an ang
ry light shone in his eyes.
What had Worrell done—added to his
other crimes the unforgivable sin of
breaking this girl’s heart? And the
man who would have protected her.
had he dared to ask the right, stood
tensely watching the sob-shaken figure
before him.
"Miss Maitland—"
She raised her head, and at the great
joy in her face Graham felt a load fall
from his heart.
“Read it,” she said simply, and hand
ed him the crumpled letter.
“My Dear Friend: I told you yes
terday I would not bore you with the
story of my life. To tell you the truth,
I lacked the courage to tell It. But if
you will take this grip to the Manhat
tan Security and Investment Company,
Inc., and turn it over to Mr. Forbes,
the president, he will doubtless give
you all the information obtainable re
garding my iniquities. I am trusting you
with this because I know I can, and
with something more. I want you to
see my mother, and tell her what pass
ed between us yesterday on the point.
As for myself, I’m going after that
chance. Where—never mind. You’ll
hear from me In time—when I've some
thing decent to write. I've known for
months I was a fool, but it needed just
you to show me the way out. I hope
the knowledge that you've done me a
good turn will add zest to your Thanks
giving dinner, and that your mother
won't think me unpardonably rude to
thus break our engagement. Yours
faithfully and gratefully,
"Grover Worrell.”
The moist sheet fluttered from Gra
ham's hand to the floor, and he grasp
ed roughly the curved back of Mrs.
Maitland's ancestral chair.
“Helen!”
The girl raised her beautiful gray
eyes to his In wonder at the tone.
“Helen, you don’t care?”
A puzzled leak came Into her face.
“Don't cave —what?”
“That he has gone?” There was a
world of entreaty In his voice. Her
eyes fell.
“No.” A Blighty wave of joy thrilled
her and a spirit of mischief rang in
her next words. “Not if you’ll have
Thanksgiving dinner with us. We
have places for four, you know.”
Then Graham forgot the Worrell
case, the property of the Manhattan
Investment Company scattered at his
feet, the fact that he had never told
Helen of his love. He simply held out
his arms—and she understood.
#•*•
Mrs. Maitland had just brought in
the turkey and was holding the carv
ing knife aloft with a contemplative
air, when she remarked with startling
abruptness.
“Well, if this hasn't been the queer
est Thanksgiving day I ever put In.
Who’d ever thought of your coming ali
the way from New York to eat a
Rhode Island turkey? I declare, it's a
wonder this whole dinner ain’t burnt
to a cinder.”
“It has been a surprising series of
events," answered Graham, with al‘
most boyish enthusiasm. “All day yes
terday I was dreading that Thanks
giving dinner at the cafe. It Just goes
to show that sometimes one cannot tell
what he has to be grateful for until
almost time to carve the turkey. And
then blessings come thick and fast.
Allow me, Mrs. Maitland, as your fu
ture son-in-law, to relieve you of that
task.”
And Mrs. Maitland weakly relin
quished the carver, murmuring faint
ly, “Well, Helen Maitland, this does
beat ali. You might have told me.”
“How could I, mother, dear, when I
didn't know it myself?”
—The postoffice has been making ex
periments between London and Glas
gow with anew system of telegraphy
by which 12 messages can be sent over
the same wire simultaneously and the
number can be doubled by the duplex
method of transmission.
CURES
RHEUMATISM
-AMt-
CATARRH.
To Proie It Cure* Medicine Sent Free
Botanic Blood Balm (B. B. B.) is
taken internally and kills tha poison In
the blood which causes Rheumatism
and Catarrh, thus making a permanent
cure of the worst cases after all else
falls.
IF YOU HAVE RHEUMATISM,
Sciatica, bone pains, aching back,
swollen Joints, swollen muscles, diffi
culty In moving around so you have to
use crutches, then Botanic Blood Balm
(B. B. B.) will give quick relief from
the first dose and permanently remove
all the symptoms in a week or ten
days’ time. Botanic Blood Balm Is a
most remarkable remedy for Rheuma
tism In all Its forms. Thousands cured.
Especially advised for old, chronic
cases.
IF YOU HAVE CATARRH.
Hundreds t£ho have exhausted the
skill of doctors, and vainly sought re
lief in the many modes of local treat
ment, have been cured by Botanic
Blood Bulm (B. B. B.), even after hav
ing good reason to think themselves In
curable. The poison In the blood pro
duces bad breath, bad teeth and elck
neas of the stomach; In some cases
vomiting up clear phlegm, enlargement
of the soft bones of tha nose, ulcera
tions of the mucous membranes, hawk
ing, nose bleeding, headaches, bad
hearing, noises In the head.
Botanic Blood Balm <B. B. n. > forces
Its way through every blood vessel and
vein, expelllig all catarrhal poison
that stand* In It* way, permanently
remove* every symptom and thus
makes g pat toct cure of Ut* worst ca
tarrh
140 I ASK H MAO II HALM 18. H B I
Burl*!*#, enriches and strengthens the
blood. Thoroughly tested for Ihlity
year# < out posed of pure botanic
Ingredients l>ru*l#t# II per large bot
tle Medicine t*RKK by writing Blood
ii*lift > AUiAU, Of ffrf OU
and frto<Sui (&4v(a o o)mni Trn I
11 *-**4.fvMnl #ofit pr*pl4 Till# it 00 fruii
•*#! oft#*. #0 uffeiMo in# y l##* U h
H* frWoio y+4 Hfitfr UMt’if luuutf.
jp| Tickles The Palate and
|pS Hits The Spot.
U Murray hill club
llllt •* Whiskey
lT ■■■■■ g. 4hVHWW Ml.,
Jos.A.Magnusjj|?
ASTHMA CURE FREE!
Asthmalene Brings Instant Relief and Permanent
Cure in All Cases.
SENT ABSOLUTELY FREE ON RECEIPT OF POSTAL. ■>
WRITE YOLK NAME AND ADDRESS PLAINLY*
CHAINED
FOi* TEN
RELIEF.
Dr. Taft Bros. Medicine Cos. Avon Springs, N. Y., Feb. 1. 1901.
Gentlemen: 1 write this testimonial from a sense of duty, having tested
the wonderful effect of your Asthmalene, for the cure of Asthma. My wife
has been afflicted with spasmodic asthma for the past 12 years. Having ex
hausted my own skill as well as many others, I chanced to see your sign
upon your windows on 130th street New York, I at once obtained a bottle of
Asthmalene. My wife commenced taking It about the first of November. I
very soon noticed a radical Improvement. After using one bottle her Asth
ma has disappeared and she Is entirely free from all symptoms. I feel that 1
can consistently recommend the medicine te all who are afflicted with thla
distressing disease. Yours respectfully, O. D. PHELPS, M. D.
DR. TAFT BROS. MEDICINE CO. Feb. 5, 1901.
G*>ntlement. I was troubled with Asthma for 22 years. I have tried num
erous remedies, but they have all failed. I ran across your advertisement and
started with a trial bottle. I found relief at oncL I have since purchased your
full-size bottle, and lam ever grateful. I have family of four children, and
for six years was unable to work. I am now in the best of health and am do
ing business, every day. This testimony you can make such use of as you see
fit. Home address, 2Z5 Rivington street. 8. RAPHAEL,
67 East 129th St.. New York City.
TRIAL BOTTLE SENT ABSOLUTELY FREE ON RECEIPT OF POSTAL.
Do not delay. Write at once, addressing DR. TAFT BROS. MEDICINE
CO.. 79 East 130th St., New York City.
Sold by All Druggists.
THANKSGIVING DINNERS.
American# Show a Keen Apprecia
tion for All Kliklm of Nat Food#.
An optimistic writer In one of the di
etetic Journals recently declared chest
nuts to be “the food of the future.”
The nursery catalogues sent out this
fall would certainly seem to justify
his. faith, for while the latest novelty
in apple trees can be purchased for
sixty cents, a single 3-year-old chest
nut tree of most approved pedi
gree sells for three dollars. This looks
as If the demand for chestnuts were
"looking up."
Chestnuts are to the South Euro
pean peasant what the potato is to the
Irish, the staple article of diet, and It
has every advantage in Its favor. A
nut tree will grow in a stony hedge
where a potato yield would scorn to
sprout, and while the latter food must
be obtained by the sweat of the brow,
one has but to stoop to pick up the
latter when the crisp autumn frosts
open the burrs.
But the crowning virtue of the chest
nut is its versatility, so to speak, for it
is equally good as soup or roast or des
sert, as the following recipes will show.
The small American chestnut is best
for sweets, while the large Spanish or
Japanese are more eervlceable for oth
er cooking.
Chestnut Soup.—Remove the outside
shell from a pint of chestnuts and let
them stand in boiling water until the
inner skin will peel off. Then cover
them with water, to which a pinch of
salt has been added,and boil until quite
tender, with a leek and a sprig of par
sley. A slice of bacon may be added it
desired. Press through a collander, add
a lump of butter, a dash of black pep
per, a quart of milk and a spoonful of
finely minced parsley, and Ift all come
to the boiling point.
Turkey Pressing.—The following rec
ipe is very much used in France for
stuffing turkey: Peel and blanch your
chestnuts, and boll until tender enough
to mash. When mashed, mix one pound
of chestnuts with one-half pound of
sausage meat. Take a slice of very
dry bread and rub down on It a clove
of garlic until the garlic is rubbed
away. Then grate the bread and add
to your dressing. Into a saucepan put
a lump of butter, a little chopped par
sley and a bit of shalot; add to this
the chestnuts and sausage, and let all
cook gently for fifteen minutes.
English Chestnut Pudding.—Roast
one pound of chestnuts, peel and sxtn
them. Pound them quite fine In a mor
tar; add four ouncss of lump sugar,
three eggs, two ounces of fresh but
ter, two ounces of candied peel and a
pint of milk. Mix well together. Grate
over the top a little nutmeg and
bake In a quick oven about half an
hour
Pudding No. I.—Boll a pint of email,
sweet chesthuts until not quit* tender,
add the pulp of two oranges and half
a lemon, the grated rind of one orange,
a few tableepoonfuls of water and let
all simmer a little longer. Then pour
In a teacupfu! of sugar end two table,
spoonfuls of brendy or sherry, and
bring all to a good brisk boll. IM this
cool; add half a pint of cream. whipped
stiff, stir together Just a little bit and
set on the Ice to ehllL
Noeseliode Pudding.—Break up a pint
of sweet boiled ebastnuta in a mortar,
but do not mash them smooth Add
half a pint of mlsed candled peel and
candled < berries which have stood foe
som* time In enough sherry or brandy
to cover them Into a tv utle holier put
on* pint of milk and one pint of entm,
and a heaping te* upJul of auger. Add
to this four sags UiWb light, and stir
< onateeitjy until It thp k*n Whet, cold
beat till# > team into iba ■ heel nut |M
fru** mister* g'lr wall together and
ft ease Man* Agues Baste
There is nothing like Asthma
lene. It brings Instant relief, even
In the worst cases. It cures when all
else falls.
The Rev. C. F WELLS, of Villa
Ridge, 111., says: "Your trial bottle of
Asthmalene received in good condi
tion. I cannot tell you how thankful
I feel for the good derived from it. I
was a slave, chained with putrid sore
throat and Asthma for ten years. I
despaired of ever being cured. I saw
your advertisement for the cure of this
dreadful and tormenting disease. As
thma, and thought you had overspoken
yourselves, but resolved to give It a
trial. To my astonishment, the trial
acted like a charm. Send me a full
size bottle.”
Her. Dr. Morris Wechaler.
Rabbi of the Cong. Bnai Israel.
New York, Jan. 3, 1901.
Drs. Taft Bros’. Medicine Cos.,
Gentlemen: Your Asthmalene Is an
excellent remedy for Asthma and Hay
Fever, and Its composition alleviate*
all troubles which combine with As
thma. Its success Is astonishing and
wonderful.
After having it carefully analyzed,
we can state tbst Asthmalene contains
no opium, morphine, chloroform or
ether. Very truly yours,
REV. DR. MORRIS WECHSLER.
CURSE
—OF—
drink:
CURED BY
White Ribbon Remedy. ’
Can be given in glass of water, tea o*
coffee without patient's knowledge.
White Ribbon Remedy will cure at
destroy the diseased appetite for alco.
hollc stimulants, whether the patient
is a confirmed inebriate, “a tipler,” so
cial drinker or drunkard. Impossible
for any one to have an appetite for
alcoholic liquor after using White Rib.
bon Remedy. Endorsed by members ol
W. C. T. U. Mrs. Moore, Superintendent
of the Woman’s Christian Temperance
Union, writes: “I have used White
Ribbon Remedy on very obstinate
drunkards, and the cures have been
many. In many cases the Remedy was
given secretly. I cheerfully recommend
and endorse White Ribbon Remedy.
Members of our union are delighted te
find a practical and economical treat
ment to aid us in our temperance
work."
Mrs. West, President of the Woman’s
Christian Temperance Union, states: "t
know of so many people redeemed from
the curse of drink by the use of Whits
Ribbon Remedy that I earnestly- re
quest you to give It a trial.”
For sale by druggists everywhere, 01
by mall. sl. Trial package free by writ
lug or calling on Mrs. A. M. TOWN
BEND (for years Secretary of the Wo
man’s Christian Temperance Union),
218 Tremont street, Boston, Maas. Sold
In Savannah by LX PPM AN BROS..
Congress and Barnard streets.
THE GAME OF POSTMAN.
“Postman is a very lively game,
quick movement and a scramble for
places being the life of it. Boys and
girls of every age find it immensely en
tertaining. It may be played by an un
limited number, the more the merrier.
The only thing to prepare for It is a
list of cities and towns equal to the
number of players. One of the players
is selected as the Postmaster, and an
other as the Postman. Having removed
as much of the furniture from the
room as possible, arrange chairs around
the walls, and have the players oc
cupy them. There must be no empty
chair; tihs is essential.
The Postmaster give* to each player
the name of a city or a town, and then
blindfolds the Postman and places hint
In the center of the room. The Post,
master himself stands where he can
overlook the players.
Everything being ready, the Pott
master begins the game by saying,
for example—''’ have sent a letter from
New York to " The moment ho
has spoken, the players representing
New York end Boston, respectively,
get up and move quickly to change
pieces. It le the object of the blind
folded Postmen U> catch one of them
ee they run, or to tske possession of
one of their < hairs If he succeeds la
doing either, the player he has caught,
or whose chair be has taken, has to he
roine Postmen.
The Post men is not chsnged u nisei
he becomes tired. If you get a good
one, keep him. for much depends os
the resdlneoe with which he csiU the
metis between the olties
This is tb jollies* kind of getne,
end there is just enough temping In
it u* and boys and gills e M of sued
—— eauae— ■ n.n
f'aeper ggho. ut Jersey vtii*. fit., e
Hungarian Served under Less g ts
eveh end fought lw hie country's lib
el ty.
25
