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L . Married Life the Third Year By MABEL HERBERT URNER. Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women Dainty Marguerite Clarke, the Aetress. Tells Girls What Simple Rules Will Do WKRE’S Home of your thin I'" I from the bathroom,” a •* * Helen placed in the tru things and trunk iray ths tooth brush, tooth paste and but tl* of glycerine. ”1 was afraid you might forget them Alice, who was throwing her clothes into her trunk with feverish haste, nod ded an ungracious ‘‘Thank you.” ‘‘Don’t you want me to help you pack?” ventured Helen. "Your dresses will bo ali mussed if you put them in like that.” “I don't care HOW mussed they are! I don’t care for ANYTHING,” w r ith an angry sob. “if only 1 can get home!” "Tin sorry you feel this way, Alice. U s distressing to all of us that your visit should end so unpleasantly.” Alice kept on rolling up and crush ing in one garment after another. She l ad swept everything out of the closet and bureau drawers into a confused ; ap on the floor by the trunk, and she v packing them in regardless of how 1 hoy would look when taken out. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled, and her eyes red and swollen from weeping. With a sigh at the hopelessness of the situation, Helen went into the library to be sure that*nothing of Alice’s was left in there. “Better order that taxi now. hadn’t we?” demanded Warren. “Think she’ll he ready by ;>: 15? That’ll give us three-quarters of an hour to get down there and check her trunk.” “Yes. she’ll he ready—she’s just throwing in her things! -Oh, Warren, it s too had this thing had to happen! I feel perfectly wretched!” “Well, you’re a little fool to let It upset you. If she wants to make a scene and Insist on starting.home this time of night—that’s her lookout. It’s not up to ua to worry. Should think you’d he blamed glad to get rid of her— F am.' The Explaining. ‘‘Oh, yes. I know, but she was going home so soon, anyway; and now to have her rush off like' this—and make hard feelings between the whole fam ily! How can we ever explain it?” “We won’t We’ll let her do the ex plaining." “Oh, but she won’t tell it as it is— shel’Il never say that she left because we followed her mother’s instructions in not letting her see that man. She may even make Aunt Emma think that we” “The deuce with what Aunt P:mnia thinks!' as he strode over to the phone. While he ordered the taxi. Helen again went in to Alice. She found her trying to force down the tray in the overcrowded trunk. “Oh. you can't close it like that! You pack your satchel and get yourself ready—I’ll lock this for you. Are you sure everything's in?” With difficulty Helen finally got the trunk closed, but she had to call War ren to lock it. Alice, who was trying on her veil, did not turn as he entered, but Helen could see' that she was watching him in the mirror with angry eyes. In grim silence Warren locked the trunk, threw down the key and stalked out. Helen stood awkwardly pulling at the end of the trunk strap, wanting to say something to make the parting less strained. Hut there was nothing re- lenfing in Alice’s manner as she now swept the key into her purse, took up her gloves and announced coldly that she was ready. “The taxicab will he here in a mo ment.” murmured Helen, “Warren or dered it for a quarter past 9.” Then with hesitating embarrassment: "I’m sorry you’re leaving live this, Alice, 1 feel that” “Well, you needn’t be sorry” (cold ly). “I’m very glad to go, and I think you’re glad to have me go. It was a mistake that 1 came at all.” What little sympathy Helen had for iice was chilled by this remark. Warren Is Worried. “Well, of course, Alice, if you feel that way about it perhaps It's just as well that you’re going. I'll see if » taxi’s come.” Helen hurried to look out of the front room window, but the taxi had not yet come. Warren, with his hands mrust deep in his pockets, was walk ing up and down the room—a trick ■ f his when worried—and he was plain ly worried at this last performance of his wayward cousin. In Alice he had met. some one that he could not dominate. Because he had sent this man away without letting him see her, and had forbidden her to even talk with him on the phone, Alice ..a-d fiercely declared that she would go home, that she would start that night. p rflif would listen neither to Helen’s pleadings nor to Warren’s angry or ders. She declared if they did not take her to the station that she would go alone—that she would not stay another night in their house. She knew there was a 10 o’clock train, and she intended to take it. So they had no choice but to let her go. “Dear, she n impossible,” exclaimed Helen, fuming from the window. “I tried to say something nice to her just now, but she cut me off by saying she was glad to go, and that she knew we were glad to have her go; that it was mistake site ever came ” "Hump! Well, she’s got that about right, i’ll write Aunt Emma to-night and tell iter a thing or two. This is the result of her pampering and spoil ing that girl all her life. There’s the taxi now. Hustle and get on vour i hings.” ' 'Why, Warren. I’m not going!” “Like to know why you're not? Now hurry and ce: ready ” Helen had not thought of going to <£• lie station, hut now she understood why Warren wanted her. She knew' mo long drive with Alice would be in drained, awkward silence, and he had no Intention of taking it alone. The elevator boy came up for the trunk. Warren got into his overcoat. id at the last moment Alice came out of her room c arrying her satchel. They went down to the cab in silence. Helen took the hack seat beside Alice, while Warren settled himself on the seat op posite. t he night air was heavy with a diiz- lii'.g mist. In a constrained silence ev gazed out at the wet pavements and blurred street lights. It was a relief when at last the cab Lew up and they hurried into the sta- on. Warp" ' *■» i” wMle be went •t the ticket and check the trunk When he ca.u . .„ci\ ue naiwied Alice an envelope. “Your Pullman ticket’s in there, too,” brusquely. “Nothing left but upper berths.” An Awkward Moment. The train was made up. and they l«tssed through the gate and down the long platform. Warren led the way into the sleeper, found the num ber of the berth and deposited Alice’s bag on the red plush seat. Then cams be most awkward moment of all—the moment of parting. “Well. Alice. I hone you will get home all right.” Helen held out her hand and made an uncertain embar rassed movement as though to kiss her good-bye. but Alice drew coldly back and merely shook hands. “Thank you.” frigidly, “I'm sure I will.” “I’ll telegraph your mother from the station here.” announced Warren, as he said “Good-bye” with cold formality. That was all. Still smarting under Alice’s haughty refusal to kiss her. Helen left the car with Warren. Out side as they went back along the plat form. she glanced up at the windows, thinking that Alice might wave them a more cordial good-bye. But when they passed the window by which she sat, her head was deliberately turned away. Warren was striding angrily ahead, walking so fast that Helen could hardly keep up with him. He crossed over to a telegraph window and wrote rapidly on a yellow r blank: “Mrs. G. A. Willard. •• Street, Dayton. Ohio. “Alice starting for home to-night. Meet her on the four-thirty to-morrow. “W. E. CURTIS.” “That's twelve words, dear,” looking over his shoulder, “can’t you leave out ‘for’ and some other word—there’s no use paying for over ten.” But ignoring this bit of economy. Warren shoved the telegram unchanged toward the operator, and demanded: 'Flow' much?” He flung down the 46 cents and left the window with a sar castic: “Well, that about ends this pleasing little episode. Now I’ve just one more thing to do—and that’s to write Aunt Emma a piece of my mind. And I’ll get that letter off to-night, too!” “Oh, Warren, you must be careful w’hat you write! There’s no use caus ing any more unpleasantness—now that she's gone." “Well, all the same, I'm going to write a few things about that head strong, snippish young lady that'll open her mother's eyes.” When they reached home it was al most 11, and Warren’s ardor for letter- writing had weakened. Not So Eager. “Guess I’ll take my bath and turn in.” he yawned, “and leave that letter until morning.” “Yes. dear, T would; you’re too tired to write It to-night,” urged Helen, knowing that by morning his anger would cool off and his letter be less se vere. if he troubled to write it at all.” But Helen s own indignation at .Alice’s conduct still smoldered. What story would she tell when she reached Day- ton? What excuse would she give for starting home so suddenly at midnight? Helen had seen enough of Alice to know that she was not always truthful, and she feared she would not hesitate to exonerate herself at their expense. Ever since her marriage Helen had made it a point to keep free from any “mix-up” with any of Warren’s rela tives. She dreaded their gossip and criticism. For this reason she had been reluctant to have Alice visit them, fear ing it would- end in some family 111-feel ing. And now that Alice had left highly incensed. Helen felt she would be quite capable of making still further trouble for them all. Cleek of the Forty Faces By T. W. HANSHAW. Copyright by Doubleday, Page & Co. TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. :: A Girl’s Best Investment :: By BEATRICE FAIRFAX What Miss Clarke Says: Swtj, ntiii or wind, 1 believe in fresh air. 1 walk and walk whenever l can. 1 went twenty ni nntns once without a vacation. Every sirring I take a tonic dear, little, new car rots. They are a wonderful blood tonic and purifier. Powder looks flaky and is laky. I never go to late suppers iu restaurants. No woman can afford to dissipate. To preserve one’s looks you must be clean—clean all the time. rf5 lym - >; fAfcjV-- > r WW.-fev? .. - - W: . L-.r* h'sk -• "m. ■ '' >i*. (apv :'jy.v i'-iy > C rJMjk fr&rf’ * ‘ Miss Marguerite Clarke. These beautiful pictures are the latest taken of this ch; who in the accompanying interview tells how s the freshness of youth through simple means. finds it easy to retain ‘T NDEED. Mr. Headland, I am glad—i am very', very' glad— that fortune has sent 1 you Into this neighborhood at this terrible time,” said Miss Renfrew, when Cleek was introduced. “I do not wish to say anything disparaging of Mr. Nippers, but you can see for your self how unfitted such men as he ana his assistant ar e to handle an affair of this great import. Indeed, t can not rid my mind of the thought that if more competent police were on duty here, the murder would not have hap pened—in short, that the assassin, whoever he may be. counted upon the blundering methods of these men as his passport to safety.” “My own thought precisely.” said Cleek. "Mr. Nippers has given me a brief outline of the affair—would you mind giving me the full details. Miss Renfrew? At what hour did Mr. Nos- worth go into his laboratory? Or don’t you know, exactly?” “Yes, 1 know to the fraction of a moment. Mr. Headland. I was look ing at my watch at the time. It was exactly eight minutes past seven. We had been going over the monthly ac counts together when he suddenly got up. and without a word walked through that door over there. It leads to a covered passage connecting the house nroper with the laboratory. That, as you may have heard, is a circular building with a castellated top. It was built wholly and solely for the carrying on of his experi ments. There is but one floor and one window—a very small one about six feet from the ground, and on the side of the Round House which looks away from this building. Nothing ( but the door to it is upon this side, Fight being supplied to the interior by . i roof constructed entirely of heavy corrugated glass.” “I see. Then the place is like a huge tube.” "Exactly—and lined entirely with ! < hilled steel. Such few wooden ap- | pfiances as are necessary for the | equipment of the place are thickly j ( oated with asbestos. I made no com- * ui'-m when my uncle rose and walked | in there without a word. I never do. For the past six or seven months he had been absorbed in working out the details of a new invention: and I have i become used to hi* jumping up like that and leaving me.” I To Be Continued To-morrow. By LILIAN LAUFERTY. F ROM "Happyland” to “Baby Mine” —then on to “Little Snow White”; and now to the part of Raffles- made Amy Herrick in “Are You a Crook?” has dainty Marguerite Clarke, the actress, well known in Atlanta, wended her triumphal way in six years of growth in power and ambition And yet her face retains a sweet, childlike untroubled quality that is very allur ing. “Where does she find the energy?” I thought as she went eagerly through the rehearsal cf the third act twice, and then with unflagging zeal started off on act II—and “Where do you And your unfailing enthusiasm?” 1 inquired when she came over for a chat in a far corner of the stage of the beautiful new Longacre Theater, where I was i playing audience. I “Oh, I get it outdoors,” sold the lit- j tie star whose name just suggests her own sweet daintiness. “I don't need outdoor exercise because F get plenty of exercise on the stage, but I do need the wonderful, bracing, soothing, stimu lating effects of fresh air. So I walk and walk whenever l can—to and from the theater around the block just sn I jam out in the air. Sun. rain or wind, 11 believe in fresh air. i “I take osteopathy, too whenever T am too tired to exercise myself, for that is a wonderful, lazy way of taking your exercise so luxurious!” Miss Clarke laughed in pleased reminis cence. “You see, you can't work and give all the energy and foree it deserve- t<> your work unless you keep your en ergy up. So I go outdoors and get a new’ supply of force. And , I get on for the longest whiles without vacation:- I went twenty whole months once with out a bit of vacation—just getting made over new each day by the wonderful outdoor world.” Gives Outdoors the Credit. “Perhaps you give too much credit to fresh air—maybe it is Just your own private supply of energy and ambition that works on unceasingly.” I sug gested. “[ think not. Ambition does keep you keyed up and full of the desire to ad vance. There you have the incentive, and then you must take every possible means to make yourself capable of car rying out your ambitions “Every spring 1 prescribe a wonderful tonic for myself—dear, little new’ car rots. I ice them till they are cold and delicious—yes, really delicious—-and then 1 Just add salt for a flavoring and eat away. Quite raw. you know Just try them and see how good they taste, and they ar® good for more than taste, too. They 0$ a wonderful Wood tonic and purifier. They'do make your skin-nice,” added Miss Clarice -ingenuously. They.do aJ! of that—for a smoother, more absolutely guiltless-of-the-faint- est-trace,-of-powder skin than Miss Marguerite Clarke’s you never saw. “Don’t you believe ip cosmetics-— pqw- der, even?” I asked. “Well, T have to be made up on the stage all the time, you know- so , be tween whiles I like to give my skin time to breathe. Absolutely just that— time to breathe. And besides the point of view of tho health of my skin, J do so dislike seeing powder uncompromis ingly betrayed by the glaring sunlight. It does look so FLAKY and FAKY! “I have one little, notion about ac tresses. and F suppose jt applies to our whole sex.” mused Miss Clar|ce. “We must he veiled in a little mystery to be truly charming. Now, if you are paint ed all pink and white, and have shad ows done under your eyes, and all the paraphernalia of trylng-io-be-attractive, how can you be elusive or mysterious or charming, when there are all the se crets of ‘how’’ laid bare for the least discerning eye to see? No Tango Tea. “In keeping with my idea of ‘mystery’ I do not go to the restaurants much, And that works out very well, for it keeps me from eating lobster salad at 1 a, m., ami saves health-and digestion, and hurries me along to bed at reason able hours. “An actress, of all women, cannot af- Her Favorite Photograph. , ford to dissipate, you know. But then no woman who wants to look her best and to win success in the world can af ford to dissipate, which mean* waste her energies in any way. You can't use yourself up in food or excitement or Mate hours and have any self left for worth while tilings,” said the little lady, ' sagely. , ; “You have made a careful study of (Taking care of the precious human body, haven’t you?'’ asked the interview’er. "Ob, there is a lot more to It,” re plied the interviewed. “I am very earn est. about the importance of cleanline**, j That sounds almost insulting as if ev- j ery one else wern’t, too. But then If : people want to preserve the looks they ! already have or acquire some more, they i must think about being clean, clean, all the time. (Mean means clean from the crown of your head to the tips of your .fingers, and to the soles of your little ; pink feet. too. And it means that ev- i erything you wear must be just as sweet i and fresh as you are. Somehow when you are all clean and ?weet and rested and out of doors, you don't get sick very often. Being in Condition. "That’s being in condition, I suppose. Wbv, when I was “Snow White,” this winter every one told me that l must be sure to rub my feet carefully In al cohol or I'd catch dreadful colds. I didn’t —and 1 didn't! I never dreamed what a wonderful, free feeling going without shoes would give. I think it must be good for us to go barefoot occasionally— I did feel so splendidly with my feet free to my beloved air. “But then I Jove free, untrammeled motion of every kind. I don’t wear cor sets off the stage. I don’t like them, and I am quite sure they \jcre not thought of in the original scheme of things. I can't see why we must b« all wrapped up and bound up, and kept hidden from air and sunlight. No shoes, no corsets freedom and suppleness wouldn't that be ideal? “Women are agitating for so much don't you think they might agitate for these health and beauty causes, too?" ” Advice to the Lovelorn :: By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. GIVE UP BOTH. I A EA K MISS FA I HE AX ■I''* J fi.iv. gain* i Lite acquaint ance of tt young lady 25 years . of age who works iri the'same of fice as I da. t did nr it.. seem to care for this young- lady at first, but as our acquaintance grew we. seemed to find vve cared for each other’s coni party. About two Weeks ago I was in troduced. to another voting 18 years old, whom 1 seemed to take a liking to when I met hef. I have not ’told either of the young ladles that I cared very much for them. ■ Now the question is: I am 19 years old, earning $12 a week and having the support of my mother on my stiouMer*, which will keep me fropi getting married tor about at leftst s.ix years. 1 would then be ■ bid - - i in the flbsf pern graph would He ih Do yeu* think the difference in would spoil our future hap pi ness, as 1 know I c an win the love of this girl, whom I really like: the best, or would you i advise me to forget this girl and try my frie ndshlp with a younger girl? L. H. B. Be a little fair, young i nan, and don’t ask any girl to wait six year* for you. Let the waiting be on your own part. Walt till you have earned th• right to woo before you start out to conquer. Bettering your finan- < i<1 prospects means more to you than STICK TO THE GIRL. 1 T^\ EAR MISS FAIRFAX: I Some time ago I met a girl 1 who was keeping company with my i chum, w’ho was called away from I her and ulule away be told me that 1 I ' ould call cn her once In a while 'Phis F did and felt a victim to her v . .. 1 wor P.-r l«»ve and lost l l mv chum's frien 'ship. 1 Tlrt» gtrl has ihwn that her love for me is strong, and what I want to know is, what am I to do? Here is a little- proposal that I made to her: 1 would go away from her. and then she could forget me, win hack her first lover and be hap py with him. Her answer was that she did not want me to go, as she loved no ohe else but me H LNRY. You love each other. That V ct stands out paramount to all claims of the other man on hey love or on your friendship I am sorry for him, but his need of sympathy would be greater if she mar ried him while loving you. KEEPING EVERLASTINGLY AT IT. 1 \EAR MISS FAIRFAX: 1 am deeply in love with a dear gir! one year my junior. I have reasons to believe that she does not desire my company. Kindly tell me how to win her love. ANXIOUS, Be attentive, courteous, generous, kind and persistent. If all these fail, try a Iff tie Indif ference. Make love to another girl. I K the- yoimg girls who are starting out with hearts that alternate be tween hope and feat* were to ask all ihe sweet-faced old Women they know this question, “What is the be investment for a young girl to make?” can you imagine their answer? 1 am very sure it would not be “In the love of man.” for man's love is at tended by much toil and regret and palpi Neither would It be “In saving your money." for the sweet-faced old women have found out that there is much mofe worth 'while. I art sure that if orie of these ojd women would look bark to the days of Her youth, she would reply: “My best Investment whs In the love of one of my own sex. First my mother, then my sister, then my daughter. ! have found no love like the love of these." A Mother's Love. - ■ It Is your mother, little girl, who loves you w hen no one else will, and whose love lasts, as long lus 9he lives. Her love is not dependent on your wit, your beauty, your accomplish ments or your worth in financial re turn*. She loves Voir because it Is YOU; she would love yviu if you wer* all that is repcRattf and hideous in face And character. It is the. Jove of a sister that smoothes over the rough places that even a mother chn't co'mprehend. Her youth makes her a more sympathetic listener to the trials of youth, and it is the only love left in the wreck of the home when mother has left it forever. A Sister s Love. There ier an understanding in a sis ter’s lover—tv sympathy, a guidance and strength. If two sisters love eash other, and each gives to the other tho fullest confidence, so long as that confidence is given without reserve neither sister will go. astray. A young girl e;tn native no better investment thnri in the love of an older sister, tor the older sister, having so recently trod the same path, knows all the pit- falls on the way. An older sister can make no better Investment than ui the love of the girl who is younger, for the realization that she is thr guide makes her cautious of her own foot steps. When the years have come and gone, and the girl who was shielded by her mother's love and guided by her sister’s, becomes a mother, then Life can make her no greater gift than The love of a daughter. Son Falls in Love. A son may intend to take care of hie mother some day; many of them do. bless them! But there are many son* who fail In this obligation, and but few daughters. The son falls in love and marries, and his wife comes first. The daughter never marries if her niarrkige means that her mother will be deprived of some one to love her and make her a home. It is the daughter who iy patient, and self-denying, and watchful and tender when the years bring their in firmities; it is the daughter who stands between the mother and neg lect, and who In more Instances than this unappreciative old world ever knew, sacrifices her own little happi ness to take her place between her mother and the poorhouse. The best investment* girls, is not in the love of the man who woos you to-day and forgets you to-morrow. It Is an investment you will mhke. The voice of nature commands it, but in ma-king this investment don’t slight the love that will last longer, and that Is the love of your mother and sister i kittle Bobbie’s Pa By WILLIAM F. KIRK. F & me was to a horse market last week. I dident want to go, but Pa wanted to go, beekause he sed that a frend of h1s naimed George Crowley wanted to go & buy a teem bf horses for his farm. So Pa & me went to the horse., market & looked at sum horse*. Pa was the man that interduced Mister Crowley to the man who owned the horse market, & all the way* down to the market he was tell ing Mister Crowley what a wunder- ful bargenn he was going to get. Moast of the horse* that they have in this market, Pa toald Mister Crowley, is old tborobreds, the kind that Mis ter Keen*? used to race at the track in the days when racing was racing in deed. It Is true, Pa sed, that most of the horses I menshun has done a littel llte roadwork laitly, such as on St. cars etc„ but I am sure that you wtll find them of the good old stock Jihat Bern Colin A- Sysonby & Rose- ben under the wire as winners. I doant rare; for any blooded horses, sed Mister Crowley. All I want Is a cuppel of old skippers for my farm. All I want them to do is to drag a plow around kind of peace ful, A not to think of the days wen the bookmakers had it all thare own way. He Was Surprised. T thot all the time that Mister Crowley waef a prftty smart man, A [ newer thought Pa knew very much about horses, but for oust 1 was sur prised in Pa, It turned out that he knew moar than Mister Crowley did. Fa A and the man In thti horse mar ket show’ed Mister Crowdey a lot of good horses, but he kep saying No, I want a simpei, gentel team for fapm work. I want a team that will not run away with the plow, a team that my wife can drive her guests around with after they have done thare days work on the farm, a cup- pel of horses that is as trac-tabel A &eey to drive as I am, sed Pa’s trend. So we all went to another stabel. I cud see that Pa dident want to go to another place, & I knew that I wud rather be out sumwar e playing ball with the kids, but we went to this other place A thay showed a team of horses that was the moast tired looking team I ewer seer., excep Roosevelt A Johnses after eleckshun. The man that was showi^aj the team to Pa’s frend rite oaver & leened his hed aggtrrst the hind heels $joth horses. You see, already, he sed, that thay are gentle, yet. A* aufe as my name is August thay havent kicked since September. I think that Is a team such as I want, sed Mister Crowley. You may send them up to-morrow. How much are thay? Pa Is Wise. Wait a minnit, sed Pa., let me ex plain. You doant want to buy a horse or a team of horses without trying them oh a livery or sum other rig, to see if thay are gentel. So Pa’s frend asked the man August to hitch the teem to a rig. I cud see that he dident want to do it vary bad, but he did it, & wen Mister Crowley A Pa A me got In, the team ran away & we had to be stopped by a policeman. I thought you toald me these horses was gentel, sed Pa’s frend to the man that called hisself August. What made them run away with me & my frend e? Go A buy ^um other horses sum- ware else, then, sed August. As sure as my naim is August I nefifer seen them run away in May before. WHY SHE WORRIED T HERE wan evidently something: on Mrs. Nerviss’ mind. For sev eral days she had been very much preoccupied, and finally Nervlss him self, fearful that he might in some way have been the. cause of it. made certain Inquiries designed to clear up the situation. “I hope you didn't mind my com ing in so Inte from the club last Tues day night. Maria," he said. "One o’clock is an unholy hour, I know, but really 1 couldn't help it very well. Ypu see"-^— "Not at all, James dear," the good lady answered. “1 should hate to have vour friends think' you were henpecked. Really, I was glnd you stayed as long as you wanted to." Nervis* drew a deep sigh of relief. "Then what. i» the matter with you, Maria?” he demanded. "You can't de ceive me. You are worrying about something.” "I certainly am," said the lady, her voice tremuiou*. "I ant very much worried. Do you tBink the people at our bank are honest, James?" "Whv, certainly." laughed Nervlss. "Whatever mado yon think they were not?” i ••Well, something very strange has happened lately." said Mrs. Nervis*, Items of Interest Tiger, ttie remarkable eat of the Great Eastern Railway Company's'goods sheds at l'eterborough, England, who Is repnfod to he about 27 years old, is pr.aeetufiy .ending a life crowded with rat extermination and other happy inci dents. Few cats live much beyond 14 or 16 years. During her long life Tiger is said to have killer thousands of rats. She is a light tabby, and came to tho sheds for refuge during Ji fire at a tim ber yard close by over 26 years ago, having been driven from her home in a timber-stark by die flames. When she dies she will leave a numerous progeny of ovgr 200 to succeed her. “Harem Wonters lends donkeys on hire like hi* father, kills pig*, smokes hams, and occupies himself with all kinds of swinish detail work: also shaves and cuts hair, except on Sunday,’ runs the legend ov§r a barber’s shop at Stierum. Holland. “and I think you ought to look into It. You know you have been giving me my allowance lately in bills, and I have been depositing them at the bank.” “Yes, I am aware of that,” said Nervlss. "Well, somehow or other I don't like the looks of that receiving teller, James,” said the lady, “and so. for the past three weeks I have been putting my initials on every bill de posited up in one corner, and yester day Mr. Cleaver, the butcher. In cashing a check for me handed one of those marked notes!” “Well, suppose he did?” demanded Nervlss. "What of It?” “What of it?” echoed Mrs. Nervis*. “What of It? Doesn’t that prove that those bank people are letting other people use my money ” It was at this point that Nervlss was attacked by a violent spasm of coughing, which, in her description of it to the doctor, Mrs. Nerviss de clared was so like a laugh that at first she believed her husband had suddenly thought of something funny. =»=■ . v KODAKS “Tk« Be*t Plnfehlm *nd Ewl»ro- Ing Th*t 0«n Be Product*. Huur. hi i FUms and com plete stock amateur suppltea. Quirk mall aenrlce for wrt-of-tnwn ruaiomera Send for Catalog and Price List. A. K. HAWKES CO. '4 Whitehall St- Atlanta. Praise This Remedy For Lung Trouble if Ihd voluntarily written words of grateful people, living in all parts of the ccmnrry, praising Eckman’s Al- ; terative. a remedy for the treatment of coughs, colds, throat and lung troubles, are to be believed, this med icine is certainly doing a vast amount , of good for such sufferers. This i» a sample taken from many: St. Mary’s Academy, O’Neill, Nebr. "Gentlemen: About seven years < ago I was attacked with Tubercu losis. I coughed unceasingly, could not sleep nor eat. even could not speak out loud and could do no work. J had three hemorrhages, raised blood most of the time and suffered with night sweats, fever and chills. A specialist of Columbus, Ohio, pro- ! nounced my case hopeless. "Nearly five years ago I heard of your Alterative and procured some at , once, with the result that I soon found myself restored to health. I consider your medicine, if faithfully taken, a most excellent remedy. Mother Superior permits this testi monial.” (Signed) SISTER MARIE. Sisters of St. Francis. (Above abbreviated; more on re- IJ quest.) ! | Eckman’s Alterative has been i) proven by many years’ test to be ! < most efficacious In cases of severe ; j l Throat and Lung Affections, Bron- |.j chilis, Bronchial Asthma. Stubborn < j? Colds and In upbuilding the system, t \ Does not contain narcotics, poisons or j s liabit-formtng drugs. For sale by \ all Jacobs’ drug stores and other < leading druggists. Write the Eck- $ man Laboratory. Philadelphia, Pa., { for booklet telling of recoveries^nikl A additional evidence.