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f]£*\ 7.iiT7 r iM* ti'kWM. g£ The Leading Resort House of the World Particularly Attractive During July, August, September and October Atlantic’s Great Summer Season Capacity 1100. Two Blocks of unobstructed ocean front facing South and overlooking*the f’tmon* Board- w Ik; 4ti0 private bnths. each with lea and fresh witer. White service In both American and a la Carte Dining Booms. Exquisite music. Golf, Rolling Chairs. The atres. P1*th. Hiding, Motoring, etc. The finest bathing beach on the Atlantic Coast. Ownership Management JOSIAH WHITE A SONS COMPANY An Opportunity loMake Money ia venters. men of ideas and i.ivaative ability, should write to day lor our list of tevoaboas needed, and pnxes oferod by leading manufacturers. Patents secured or cur fee returned “Why Sousa lavnators Fail, ‘How io G**t Your Patent and Your Money,” l*d other valuable booklets seut free to aay address. RANDOLPH A CO Patent Attorney®, 618 “F* Street, N. W, IVAHHIXGTOX, D. C. A Bachelor’s . Diar\ A® 'VS Modes of the Moment By MAX. J ULY 31.--You are the only relaxa tion. Diary, that they permit me to have, and my fingers, because of my weakness, feel as clumsy and big us telegraph poles It is fortunate no one will ever read this scrawl. 1 want to tell what happened the last hour before I stopped knowing what was happening. I was sitting on the end of a log en gaged in watching a cork on the water, thinking, as I so often do, of Sally, and i longing to see her. when 1 felt Manette’s ; arms around my neck She had crawled I out on the log, behind me. a perilous j thing to do. "Puppy says," she whispered, making believe as she frequently did that th# dog could talk, “that a big black cloud j is scaring him." I looker up and found the skies over cast. There was a muttering threat in i the waving of the trees, a sullen roar, j and big. heavy drops of rain began to fall. "Puppy is right,” I replied, and turned * hastily to carry the child back to shore The log was old and soft and worn I smooth, and my footing, with the child in my arms, was precarious. Ordinarily I cautious, I thought only of the need of petting Manette to shelter, missed my I step, and remember little else. I had « feeling that I was plunging down. down, with Manette and the i whole universe plunging on top of me. Everything turned black, there was a | sudden, sharp pain in my head that seemed to spread over my entire body. * and then I lost consciousness. They tell me that the log, a fallen giant of the woods, must have turned, and that in my efTort to save us from falling 1 caught hold of it an<i pulled It down on top of me. Then the rain be gan to fall In torrents. “It was merciful." said Richard this morning, while hovering around me while the nurse.took her morning walk, “that you were unconscious. If you had realized Manette’x danger and your j helplessness, you’d have gone mad.’’ Manette, they said, was saved from injury by a miracle I ha\<e a sort of Indistinct recollection that when I felt i myself crashing down threw her from me I don’t know about that. No one knows what happened in the next two hours, for it mbs fully that j long till the dog appeared at the door j of the kitchen, harking and howling, j They had heard him coming, they said, . > a half hour before he appeared In sight, and were ready with lanterns to I follow him. They supposed when the storm broke that he had found shelter, and were not worried, as we had been caught in so many storms before, and had always come home when they cleared, laughing and making merry over the experience. A Friend in Need. The dog saved us. “You may need him," Sally Spencer had urged when the question of takin him came up. Slie question of taking him came up. We | needed him more than we needed any- ’ thing else on earth So many friends, j who have brains where he has only i dumb Intuition, do not meet the hour of need as he met it. Manette says that when she crawled out of the mud I was lying on the hunk flat on my back, with the tree trunk lying across me. She found her way, i with the rain beating down on her, to j mS’ side, and in her baby way tried to rouse me. Failing, she seemed to realize that something serious had happened, for she snuggled down beside me, put both arms around my neck, and tried, as best she could with her arms and face, to shel ter me from the storm. Her little skirts were torn into shreds, proving the effort the dog made to pull her to a place of shelter. He pulled and barked and pulled, but she held to me with both arms. 1 cun imagine the scene—the frantic efforts of the dog to get her to a place of safety, for the waters in the lake were rising, and her equally frantic efforts to cling to her Uncle Max. With a mournful howl, he finally de sisted, and started off to secure help for the task he was unable to accom plish alone. Manette was uninjured, and the cold beating of the rain had no bud effects. Her name was the first I spoke when 1 found myself in bed with strange faces bending over me. and her arms around my neck, and her face pressed against mine, is the last 1 remember before I lapsed into unconsciousness again. Little Bobbie’s Pa The Wife Who Spends Her Husband s Money For the Season. T HE skirt <>f the very useful and smart afternoon gown illustrated on the left-hand side is sltgh;- ly draped. A fold of material runs diagonally from the waist to the drapery. The bodice has long sleeves finished off with a row of small buttons and the bodice is cut in jockey style. In the center .» shown a charming evening gown carried out in white with a touch of color in the japonlca tulle waist band. The foundation is of ivory charmeuse and over this is arranged the crystal-em broidered tulle. Crystal trimming is carried out on the sleofeless bodice. A smart gown with a graceful skirt is illustrated on the right. A tunic or accordion-pleated silk partially covers the char- meuse skirt; the ends of the sash are finished with heavy silk tassels. 'Phe collar and cuffs are made white linen edged with pleated frills. By WILLIAM F. KIRK. B OBBIE, sed Pa to me, you ft me will go oaver to nee Mister Crowley at his country hoam to-day. I always have wanted to see his country hoam, ft this will he a fine day. Mister Crowley will be glad to see us. So we went oaver. Pa was telling me on the way oaver how his frend entertained his friends. He think the wurld of me. Pa aed, ft it will pleese him to see me at his estate to-day He has a littol son naimerf George, about yure age ft thay have a pony that you can ride. Mister Crowley Is working on the new drive around his house ft* I guess I will watch him work awhile & give him a few suggestions. Thay have a vary nice place rite on a big lake. Wen we got there two of Mister Crowley’s brothers wa« breaking up stones with big hammer? to maik the stones 1!ttel for the driveway. He was bossing his two brothers. Here, he sed to Pa, after he had shook hands, you are a big husky, why doant you grab a hammer and help me. Certainly, ned Pa, you ft: I wfll show the boys how. Get thare two hammers ft give them a rest. Now we will work like this, sed Pa, you brake ten big stones into quar ters ft I will brake the quarters into eighths & then you brake the eights into thirty-seconds, sed Pa. Let Eddie do that, sed Mister Crow ley. No, f»ed Pa. you have got to work if I do. Eddie and his brother Art have did enuff work for one day. But I doant care to swing a ham mer. sed Mister Crowley, I was meerly overseeing them. • Well, sed Pa I guess thare will be nothing stirring on my part until you spit on yure hands ft show me that you. too, are not afrade of honest iabor. You brake un the big ones flrs‘. then, sed Pa’a friend. No, sed Pa. I am better at braking up quarter stones than whole ones. 1 can maik the cutest eights out of quarters you ewer seen, sed Pa. Go ahedd. So Pa’s frend started in. but I cud see that he dident want to. After he had worked awful hard for neerlv half an hour he sed to Pa, Now go aheed ft finish this job. ft then it beegan to rain hard. Now we will all go in out of the rain, sed Pa. We doant mind the rain a bit, sod Mister Crowley. You go rite aheed now ft do yure share. I newer make littel stones out of big ones in a rain storm, sod Pa. Why, thay wuddert ask a convict to work in a storm like this. But I insist, sed Mister Crowley. No sed Pa, I am a vary large, pow erful'man. ft If I shud get neumonla 1 mite as wall maik my will & 1 p ev all my debts to my creditors. You know what neumonla wud do to a gent like me, Pa sed. By all meens, sed Missus Crowley. Cum rite in out of that rain, all of °So Pa didn’t have to brake any rock. Pa is a good skeemer about work. BY DOROTHY DIX. T T THEN a young man asks a girl’s \/\/ hand in marriage the first ^ * question that her father puts to him is, “Can you support my daugh ter in comfort?’’ No kind and thoughtful parent, how ever, ever, takes the trouble to ask a prospective bride, "Can you spend wise ly and judiciously my son's hard-earned money?” Yet the one thing is Just as Im portant as the other, and the happi ness and success of any marriage de pends just as surely on the wife’s ability to get the* full purchasing power out of a dollar as it does upon the husband’s ability to make that dollar. The ne’er-do-well of a man does not more surely bring a family to want and poverty than the thriftless and waste ful woman does. There is a homely old proverb that says that a woman can throw more out 4>f the back door with a teaspoon than a man can put in at the front door with a shovel. And it’s true. No man, un less he is a financial wizard, c^n make any headway against the extrav agance of a wife. It is his wife’s dis cretion as a spender that settles the average man’s fate for him, and de termines whether he is # lo sit on a bookkeeper’s stool or stand behind the counter the balance of his life, or whether he is going to be well to do and prosperous when he is middle-aged. When you see the young wife of a man on a moderate salary always dressed up in the very latest cut jn fashion, when you meet her at mati nees every week and watch her hav ing tea at a smart hotel afterwards, when you encounter her in the butcher shop negligently ordering sweetbreads and squabs, you don’t have to go to any fortune teller to forecast the future of her husband and herself. You Can Forecast. You can do that for yourself. You can see a stoop-shouldered man grow ing more and more discouraged as the years go by, and he has nothing to show for his labor except a mountain of receipted bills, and at the end of it all you see a man dead from overwork or thrown out of his job into hopeless poverty into which he sinks. On the other hand, when you see the wife of a poor young man who does her own housework and makes her own frocks and who buys the cheap cuts of meat at the butcher shop and Is par- ncular about having the bones and the trimmings sent home, you are equally able to forecast the future for her and her husband. And you see diamonds and motor cars festooning her horizon along about the time she is 50. There is nothing new in these state ments. Everybody has seen hundreds of such cases. Everybody can recite DOROTHY DIX. to you dozens of instances in their per sonal knowledge of men who have been ruined by their wives’ extravagance or made by their wives’ thrift. Every mother and father pray that their own son will get a wife who has the saving bank habit instead of the bargain coun ter mania, yet nobody raises a finger to prevent a catastrophe that threatens every man who gets married and every family that is started. When a woman is wasteful and ex travagant. and throws her husband’s good money away we blame her, and say all the hard things about her that we can think of. It’s a cruel injustice. It isn’t her fault. It’s the fault of the idiotic way ir} which we bring girls up We don’t teach them the value of Things Worth Remembering THE CANNIBAL A 7 rue Nature Story Complete Afterwards. Since then, nothing else has mattered. I know that they secured a physician at the hotel, and that the next day my own doctor came by special train, bring ing a nurse and Richards with him, and that he hus been here ever since. "I am not going to leave you. Max,” he said, “till I pull you through. It was my fault that you carne to this place.” 1 am not sorry. Even physical suffer ing has its recompense 1 do not con cern myself over a thing in the world. Manette Is safe, and it seems gnt>d to me. after so many years of fighting battles all alone, to have some one now fighting my battles for me. The doctor tells me frankly that this will he a battle. I do not care. They let me have just enough light to pee these pages, and when I have grown tired of writing, and I have paused many times in writing this, Richards takes you away Diary, locks you up, and then the room is darkened again That is the reason I have begun to re gard The Hands as disembodied. They float around me in the strangest way sometimes, always, through the long hours of the day and night, mov ing with quick, deft touches to make lue more comfortable. Sometimes I fall asleep holding a hand in mine, and its firm, cool touch seems to give strength “Please." I asked last night, "let me hold your hand I don't have that hor rible feeling of floating off alone to an unknown sea when I have hold of your hand. I have a notion.’ gr< wing gar rulous. for the hours at night are long, "that I would like to be h< Iding your band when The Pilot calls for me. Homehow I would not hesitate to go." "The Pilot isn’t going to call for you,” replied a voice somewhere. I don't know where, she seems such an altogether disembodied person I wonder seme- i times if she is more than Two Hands and a Voice "ami you must go to sleep now and uot think of such things." By F. ST. MAKS. HE last sparrow had ceased twlt- i terlng and tucked his head under his wing for the night ; the last blackbird had loft off scolding as black birds do when they are going to roost— ! and the last of the fowls had fluttered I up Into its perch in the fowl house, I when the old buck rat. the master, and j for that matter the leader of all the rats j in the farmyard poked his sharp Inqui- l sitlve nose up out of the hole in the j barn floor. He was a very big rat. Ills ! ears were like chewed biscuits, and his j tail was a stump, half of its proper I length, because of the many fights he had had. It would have been difficult I to find two inches on his body not ( marred by old scars. You will see, | therefore. that his mere survival I proved his great cunning and strength. ; Having remained quite still for ten I minutes, and made certain that the cor- j ner where the big cat usually lay In am- | bush was empty, he made for the sacks I of potatoes ranged in a far corner. It was the work of a few minutes to gnaw a hole in one of these and extract the j smallest potato he could get This he I carried to his hole in the floor and down beneath where, hidden under the earth he had a private store of potatoes, nuts, ' grain, etc., which he vjsited when there ! were too many dangers about for him 1 to venture out to feed, j When next the rat appeared it was In the covvyard. close to the water trough. It was a moonlight night, and every thing in the yard showed up clearly, j for which reason it had taken him something like an hour to work his way | from the barn, moving cautiously al- , ways in deep shadow. There was a bull j in the yard, a huge beast standing in ! the full glare of the moon, rumbling to : himself deep down in his inside, and I two bats were fdaying in and out of the open thatched cowshed. And that was ; all, or so it seemed. : Like to Drink. And then suddenly he saw its head go up, and its burning eyes peer over the edge below to the yard. Next moment it dropped flat and froze, too—not 3 feet away from the rat. Still It had not seen him, and whatever danger had sturtled it came plainly from below. You can understand, then, that the old rat was burning anxious to lift his head and peer over the side. It was awful to He there and await a danger you could not see, hut he could not move. Then, after about five or six minutes of awful, motionless suspense, very, very slowly over the side of the trough a head lifted and peered down upon the grenish water, and the two beasts crouched motionless within a yard of it. Beyond a slight start when the head appeared, our rat did not move, and as for the wo.usel, it did not move at all. Very good reason had the rat to start, for the head was that of his wife. Yes, she was looking for him, and he knew it, but not in the way you think. Slowly, beside hers, another head moved up and peered over, to be fol- 1< wed by another and yet others, till there were ten of them in a row staring j with their gleaming eyes. And all the Household Suggestions Rats are thirsty creatures, and like to drink every few hours, is possible, otherwise you would never have found our cunning old rascal here out in the open. The trough was in the moon light. an,j as he climbed up it he did so with every sense on the alert. So in tent was ho upon the possibility of danger around that it never struck him to glance Inside the trough. In fact, he was actually leaning over the edge to drink before he realized that something was there drinking already beside him self. A younger and less cunning rat would have started and bolted, and given him self away, but this one instantly stiff ened—“froze," they call it in the wild— and lay still as death. There was no mistaking the identity of the drinker. It was a full-grown weasel. None other possessed that long, lithe form, or that cruel gleam In the eyes, except the stoat. Apparently the weasel had r.< t seen him, for when it had finished drinking it came slowly along the edge of the trough, balancing carefully, straight to ward his crouched, motionless form. If black kid gloves or calf-kid boots have become hard, put the gloves on the hand and apply in that position (as if washing the hands) ns much camphorated oil as the leather will absorb; then take off and hang to dry and also allow the camphor to evap orate. With boots, rub in well with the hand the same kind of oil. Th-s gives the original suppleness to the leather. To brighten a carpet, take five or six large potatoes and scrape them finely into a pail of water. Stir, then strain. Wring out a cloth in the wa ter and rub the carpet. Rinse the cloth as soon as soiled. Should soot fall on a carpet, sprinkle dry salt thickly over it. leave It for a few minutes, then brush up. No trac- of the soot will remain. Cayenne pepper is excellent to r td cupboards of mice. * The floor should be gone over carefi lly, and each hole stopped up with a piece of mg dipped in water and then in cayenne peppe r . Tar may be removed from th<* hands by rubbing with the outside of fresh orange or lemon peel and dry ing immediately. The volatile oils dissolve tar so that it can be rubbed off. Permanganate of potash will olcase dirty 'fiiters of ail impurities. A solution should be passed through the filter until it comes out as pink as when it was poured in. To cure a feather that has become damaged with rain or dew, sprinkle it th: klv with common salt and shake before a bright fire until dry, when you will find it as good as new. time beneath, both rat and weasel could hear a continuous pattering and rus tling. which told of more rats and yet more. This, seeing that they were of his own kind, ought to have pleased the rat, one would have thought. It did not. It made him tremble from head to foot, and he had not trembled in the least when he thought himself alone with the weasel. He considered himself, in fact, a match for the bloodthirsty lit tle weasel any day, but he knew he was no match for that which was com ing. Flight. Then all at once he sprang to bis feet, and so quickly that none of the other animals had time to move, he raced along the edge of the trough, sprang clean over the astonished weasel, land ed on the far side, slipped, recovered and scamtiered away along the top of the cattle-mangers, and so to the ground and out of the farmyard gate. It was magnificently done, that amaz ingly quick retreat, and it showed a certain amount of reasoning. Had he gone any other way be would inevita bly have been either surrounded or over taken by the other rats, but as it was those that poured after him came into collision with the weasel, who, being the rats’ hereditary foe and possessed of as tonishing courage, naturally fought and checked the pursuit, until overpowered by sheer numbers. Thus, by the time the whole mob of rats had really got well on the trail of our old villain he was some fifty yards down the hedge that bordered the field outside and beyond hope of capture. Now you will naturally ask why these rats, his relations and neighbors, and especially his own wife, would seek to murder him—and I will whisper to you the reasen. When his wife returned to her nest she found two of her babies gone and another one freshly killed, and her nose told her that our old rat was the culprit. And that is why, if you go to the farm to-day, you will not find the cun ning old rat, who knows all about traps, kills the chickens and ducklings, sucks the eggs and is the worst foe his own kind possesses, living on the farm at all, but about a field or two away, with in raiding distance. Worth It. "Prisoner at the bar,” said the judge, "is there anything you wish to say before sentence is passed upon you?” "No, there is nothin’ I care to say; but if you’ll clear away the tables and chairs for me to thrash my law yer, you can give me a year or two extra.” Same Thing. "Sanders, have another drink.’’ a friend said, entering a bar where Mac- Hoot was just tossing off a glass of whisky. "Na, na,” answered Sanders Mac- Hoot. "J winna hue tfnlther, but ye can pay for this if ye like,” Up-to-Date Jokes M o re Attractive — “Tremendous crowd up at our church last night.” “New minister?” "No. it was burned down.” * • ♦ Teacher—When did Charles I make his greatest mistake? , , , Bright Scholar—The time he lost his head. * * • Mark Twain’s story of Horace Greeley’s handwriting has, a parallel in this, from a railway conductor in Missouri to the president of the road. The conductor wrote: "A farmer has been riding on this' pass for about a year. Do you want him to continue to use it?” The president put on his glasses, looked the paper over carefully, and said: i . "Why, this is not a pass. It is a receipt I gave the fellow for a load of wood about a vear ago. • * * Shopper—Do you keep unground coffee beans here?” . . Q Assistant—No, ma’am; upstairs. This is the ground floor. • * * They were newly wed, and were showing their friends over their tiny apartments. Each room in turn was inspected. Last on the list came the kitchen. The little wife waxed elo- ; quent. ..... I • You see.” she said, "that is where | I do all my cooking. And this is the very basin in which I mix my cakes. “And this,” cried the young man. j Indicating the oven with a sweep of his arm, “is the brickkiln! Idle Thoughts. Fan—A thing to blow* warmth off with. ... Fool—A person whose opinion (in fers from our own. Tact—To leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment. Repartee—What we might have said ourselves if the other fellow had not been so quick. Committee—A body of people who waste hours and keep minutes. Deputation—A term signifying many, but not signifying much. Reputation—A bubble which a man bursts when he tries to blow it for himself. Water—A fluid useful for washing purposes. Some people are said to drink it. Gentleman—A man who can wear a diamond ring without anybody notic ing it Dust—Mud with the juice squeezed out. —Something that makes the po- : tatoes taste nasty when you forget to 1 put any in. Synonym—A word you can us* 1 i when you don’t know how to spell the other one. Friend—A person who knows all about you and likes you just the same. Public executions in Paris prove very profitable to the owners of j houses commanding the scene. Win dows are let out for the occasion, the landlords watching for the first sign l of the execution, and then at once sending word to the persons who have i hired the room. If an ordinary crim- | inal is executed, the charge is usually about $6 per seat, but should ihe of- ; fender have committed any remark- i able crime, the price runs up to as I much as $30. A Pittsburg boy, William A. Davis : reached his thirteenth birthday on I Friday, June 13, 1913. He weighed 113 1 pounds, lived in Taggart street, which j lias thirteen letters in it, and was ip ; grade thirteen at school. His mother, who was born <>n December 13. or average yearly rainfall is not more than 10 inches, a square mile will support only eight or nine sheep. In Buenos Ayres the same area, with 34 inches of rain, supports 2,560 sheep. The average depth of sand in the deserts of Africa is from 30 to 40 'feet. money We don’t teach them how to spend it, and to expect them to make a wise use of it is as unreasonable as to expebt a land lubber to know how to pilot a ship. No Experience. The average girl, until she gets mar- ried, has never had the spending of a dollar. Her father has paid her bills, and her mother has decided what sh® could buy. A little change for street car and soda water Is about all the money that has ever jjngled in her purse. She has never had any fixed allowance for her clothes and persona! expenses, and so has never realized that if she . paid too much for a hat she would have to do without a dress, and that you can’t spend your money and have it. too. Parents are so afraid that their daughters will waste their money that they let the girl learn how to spend on her husband’s earnings, which is pret ty hard on Friend Husband* It isn’t the gril’s fault that she doesn’t know how to spend her husband's money wisely. It’s the fault of her parents who have not taught her one of the most important lessons in life. That this is true In abundantly proven by the fact that women who have earned their living before they were married, and who have thus learned how to han dle money, are almost invariably eco nomical and thrifty managers and helps to their husbands. There is no greater Injustice in the world than the way women are treat ed about money. A woman without money is the most forlorn and piteous creature on earth. She Is in a thou sand times worse plight, and more dan ger, than a man is under similar cir cumstances, yet fathers do not concern themselves to try to protect their daugh ters against such a fate. Boys are given money of their own when they are little fellows in order that they may learn to handle It, but the little girl is left to find out this Important piece of knowledge the best way she can. A boy Is fitted for some occupation whereby he may support himself in comfort. A girl’s living is left to chance. She isn’t taught any way by which she can keep herself out of the poor house If she doesn’t marry, or <f her husband should die and leave her penniless. A rich man leaves his daughter a fortune, hut he has not taught her one thing about how to take care of it, and she is left to the mercy of executors and lawyers, and she doesn’t even know enough to keep herself from being swindled. Perhaps some day men will realize that the only way to protect themselves is to teach women how to handle* money by giving them a definite sum for their own, instead of making them do the mendicant act for every cent they get. Then we shall hear less about extrava gant wives. It’s ignorance, not vicious ness. that makes women waste money. cered Master Willie to stay in bed on ! his birthday to iisure that no harm | should befall him. Kettlewell, in Yorkshire, possesses the most remarkable electric lighting Installation in England. The village is only a tiny place, but the River Wharfe provides it with natural water ! power, and at a cost of less than $3,000 a lighting plant ha.s been erect- | ed, the villagers being the sharehold ers and the directors of the company. Now that the large advertising posters that were so great a disfigure ment of the country on either side of the French railway lines have been rendered illegal by act of Parliament, advertisers on the Orleans Railway have begun to plant flower beds ( J brilliant colors in the fields on either side of the line, with the flowers ar ranged so as to sp^ll the name of the goods to which they are to call at tention. In parts of Australia, where the I Delicious—Strengthening—Cheap You have no idea ihe number of delicious, savory meals that can be made with Faust Macaroni until you get our free recipe book—write tor it today A 10-cent package of Faust Macaroni contains as much food value as 4 lbs. of beef—confirm this by your doctor. Ir-SLIUSTT Macaroni will solve the hlgh-cost-of-livlng problem—will cut your meat bill two-thirds. It la mad* from Durum wheal—a high glutinous cereal that makes muscle, bone and flesh. Serve Faust Macaroni often—it is a ?uest pleaser—a great food for growing children—a satisfying, appetizing dish for everybody. Eat more of it. At all groceiV—5-ceni and 10 cent package" MAULL BROS. St. Louis. Mo. Annual Mountain Excursion Southern Railway Saturday, August 16. $6.00 Asheville, N. 0. $6.00 Lake Toxaway, N. C. $6.00 Hendersonville, N. C. $6.00 Hot Springs, N. C. $6.00 Tate Springs, N. C. $6.50 Eristol, Tenn. Final Limit September 1. Three trains to Asheville. Morning Noon Night 3:00 a.m. 11:15 a.m. 9:30 p.m. MAKE RESERVATIONS NOW CHICHESTER S PILLS T1IC DIAMOND BRAND. A DIAMOND It RAND PILLS, for *5 years known as Best. Safest. Always Reliable SOLD BV DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFIK TOO FAST TRAINS Lv. 7:12^,5:10 PM.