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One Woman’s Story By Virginia T. Van De Water. CHAPTER XXXn. M art FLETCHER did not regain her strength as fast as her hua- ■ band thought she should. He coir.d not understand why the doctor and nurse did not urge her to exert her self, to conquer the weakness that pos sussed her. She was still in bed when the baby was two weeks old and Bert s mother came out to Middles brook for the day to see her first grandchild She would not stay overnight, she said, for she did not care to “crowd a cottage al ready overfull.” If this was meant as a suggestion that Mrs. Dan forth should have vacated her room during the pres ence of the nurse in the household, Mary did not take umbrage at It- She had learned to submit to her mother-in- law’s remarks, and to believe that hack of the rough and brutally frank manner was a klndtiees that could he depended upon Therefore the young mother foresaw no unhappiness in the suggestion of Mrs Fletcher senior that she and her daugh ter-in-law have a private chat on the afternoon of her visit, an hour before time to leave for the return train to New York. The baby was sleeping quietly in his cradle, and his internal grandmother drew a chair close to the side of Marv's bed The Invalid smiled almost affectionately. “Good of You to Call." “It Is good of your,” she said, “to come out to see the baby and me to day. Early spring out here Is rather cold this year, and the walk from the station Is a muddy one." “Oh, I didn’t mind that,” returned the. older woman. “I wanted to see the baby and I wanted to say something to you. So I will get right down to that How.” Then, without further preface, she In formed her startled daughter-in-law of a matter that had bean worrying her— Bert’s mother lately. She felt that Bert’s wife should be told that three times when Bert had stayed In town all night he had come to his mother's flat, late in the evening, drunk ”7 wouldn't, even for his sake, tell you this before your child was born,” she said. “Nor would I tell you until now that the love of liquor’s In his blood. At least his father used to love It, but I watched him and ruled him so that he never got drunk after I married him. And Bert’s got to be broke of the habit. It's up to you, his wife, to do It." The^ younger woman’s wide eyes fixed on the speaker’s face with a look of entreaty that made the unimpressiona ble and austere, woman glance away. “What can I do? Please tell me!” she Implored. “I am so ignorant and so anxious!" The appeal to her superior wisdom restored the older woman's self confi dence. and there was no note of tender ness or pity In the businesslike tones in which she replied. “That’s for you to decide A woman ought to know’ how to manage a man. I’ll tell you what I mean to do. The next time Bert comes to my place with > Igns of liquor on him. I’m goin' to slam ihe door In his face!" An exclamation of dismay from the shocked listener did not move her. *No. Mary," she went on. ’‘here ain’t any use In mincin’ natters with men When my son don't act like he should. I don’t act to him as the mother of a good son might act. I served my hus band the same way. When he behaved himself. I was pleasant; when lie didn’t I made him pay for it. I advise you to stir yourself and set to work at Bert. Take my advice and make him afraid to drink " She paused, but the wife made no answer. She felt as If she had not the .strength to speak. Her mother-in-law arose 'Well, It's gfittin’ near train time, and l must be goin’," she observed "I made up my mind that you should have the truth and my duty s done." She moved her chair back, the floor vibrating under her massive tread To the sick woman the room seemed to be floating gradually away, she heard her mother-in-law's voice a long distance off (-ailing the nurse; she was so tired holding fast that she would let herself gl;dc off for a moment; she was floating off—off First Thought of Baby. She came to herself with a sudden Jolt .as if the boat In which she was drifting to the unknown land had come to a stop full against a rock. The jur was sickening, and she opened her eyes with a gasp Her face was wet and the strong smell of cologne salts was in her nostrils. J'he nurse was standing by her on one side, bathing her fuce; her mother, on the other side of the bed. was holding a bottle of salts to her nose. Somewhere in the room the baby was crying She tried to speak, failed, then tried again and whispered: "(.iive me my baby, please!" Her mother brought the little one to her. And then, for the only time dur ing her illness, tHe invalid asserted her self *1 want." she said distinctly, if weak ly. "to he left alone with my mother and my baby.'' The nurse although having no diplo ma from a training school, understood women. She suggested with decision that the astonished mother-in-law leave the room, fortifying her commands with the reminder "I have my orders from the doctor that Mrs Fletcher shall be kept quiet, and I am answerable to him.” I 'own stairs Bert Fletcher's mother hurried away to catch her train hack to tow n, bidding the nurse a brusque "good afternoon ." In the darkened room upstairs. Mary, too tired to think, fell asleep, her habv close against her heart, her mother within reach of her hand. For a peace ful hour Bert Fletcher's wife forgot the domination of his overpowering and ^rushing i*ersonality. AN IDEAL TRIP FOR SEPTEMBER. The Warm Springs Hotel will remain open until Sep tember 15, and those who are acquainted with this famous watering place will And it ready and anxious to serve them with the best the country affords. This is just the season to enjoy the baths and the beautiful country surroundings. n (From the (\mn*n of Bernhard Kellennana— fjerrr.an remton Oopyrtichted. 1913. try it rueher V«rl*f. narlin Eugliah translation ao4 compilation by TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. When the first of these started downtown to the Syndicate Building, the newsboys were crying extras in the street: "All about the suicide of Sidney Wolf!’’ The sound came up to Allan, where he paced his office and awaited the coming of the directors. And before his eyes was the picture of Wolf’s ashy and flabby face as he had last seen it. With It there came over him for the second time that momentary lack of confidence in himself—when he felt that the monster he had created, that had crushed out the lives of thousands, was surely crushing out his own. "The tunnel—the tunnel!" he said to himself over and over again, now in despair and now In grim determi nation. It would take many, many years now—more probably than he would live. Would It ever survive this blow ? He wasted no time on self-reproach. If he had handled Wolf differently, this stroke might have been averted, but it was too late to think of that now. There was barely time to de vise hasty and shaky props and pray that they might uphold the tottering financial structure of the great enter prise and not bring down the finan cial world in one common ruin. lie knew what would happen when trie Stock Exchange opened the next morning. One thing only could head off a terrible onslaught and that would be a wholesome financial statement from the Syndicate that would bear the X-ray. And he did not see how this was possible. Their cash had beep shoi)t even be fore Wolf’s peculations. In any case they would have had to evade many obligations at the first of the year In the shape of interest on their Invest ments. It might have been possible to glows the statement over, but with the double suicide and the' loss of the money—the ca»h—he did not see how they could he saved. Nothing but a probe-proof balance sheet of their financial standing would enable pub lic confidence to support them, and this was impossible. A Stormy Session. The directors’ meeting lasted all night, hut they were not the only sleepless ones. In all that city at least one man in five had some finan cial interest, direct or otherwise, wrapped up in the great tunnel And the head of the tunnel finances and his assistant had both killed them selves within a week. It was a stormy and grinding ses sion in the directors’ room, but when the Stock Exchange opened they had a statement ready. Thousands had hoped for a bold, reassuring an nouncement of the company’s healthy financial condition. The directors did their best to give it to them, but the statement, as made public, fell far short of that mark. And then came the deluge. The first wave that struck the mar ket was an overwhelming Hood of the ten-dollar certificates—"the work ingman’s stock.” In less than an hour they had dropped from par to $♦>. Before noon four smaller banks sus pended payment—and then the real storm broke. The big banks—the Lloyd National, the American Gold Bank and the House of Manton—closely allied and identified with the Tunnel, met th** first stock, but could not turn back the rush. The panic spread, ns all panics do. and banks only remotely Interested in the Tunnel, big, substan tial financial forts, began to crumble to pieces. When night came New York had passed through the worst day in its financial history. That black day of the panic in 1907 was a trifle. The next morning call money was quoted at 165. and this was a hit of grim humor. It was practically lm- posible to borrow a thousand dollars In cash in New York at any figure. This is the situation, Allan was told by young Morton, who had hasti ly been thrown into the chair loft by the suicides of Hanson and Wolff. "Bv noon to-day there will be scarcely a bank with open doors in the United States and darned few in Europe." The two men were sitting in Allan’s office far above the noises of the waking day in the street below. They had been there all night. Allan was drinking mineral water by the bottle in constant little sips; he nodded to show that he understood. •*Wittersteiner and his friends are backing the Hank of New York City,’’ went on Morton. "They are backing it to the limit of their powers. They may he able to keep the doors open and meet obligations-- but that’s all. Our own bank can’t possibly hold up unless Mr. Lloyd gets behind it with every cent of his personal fortune. The New World National is getting help from the Bank of London, but every other European bank threw up breastworks at the first gun. By the times the continental bourses open to-day there won’t be a nickel in sight for anybody." "Then there isn’t anything we can do about it?" Allan asked quietly. "Nothing—but pray for a miracle," was the grim response. No Answer. As nearly as he had ever done sine* boyhood Allan prayed and prayed hard for this miracle. But the prayer was unanswered. Within three day* the full weight of the crash descended on the business world and the five continents echoed with the roar of collapsing companies. Every new day brought its new roll Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 455 EAST FAIR STREET. By the time the continental bourses open to-day there won’t be a nickel in sight for anybody. of commercial victims and then was added an «ve."-increasing and more sinister list. Hanson and Wolf were not the only victims. Every hour brought its report of insanity and suicide and murder. One New York paper which had fought the tunnel from rhe first, ran a black-bordered list of the victims every day under this line: "What the Tunnel swallowed to day!" And in the list were bankers and brokers and merchants and manufac turers and women and little children — hundreds* upon hundreds. But it was not this that affected the Money Kings. The financial body of the world had received a ripping wound and was in danger of bleeding to death. The wheels of the world s commerce, lacking the lubricant of cash, were slowly coming to a full stop. Factory fires were drawn and mines were closed. No manufacturer In the world worked his plant on fuil time. Millions were thrown out of employment. Thousands of employ ers were forced to reduce wages, strike and riot followed. Industry was paralyzed. In Great Britain the industrial world actually came to a full stop for the first time in history. For there a general strike was de clared. In the other big producing countries conditions w'ero little better. Steamers with cold funnels were warped to the wharves of the great seaports in long lines. In many parts of the world the railroads were even without oil for fuel. The more pop ulated countries, only those that de pended on water power, could oper ate with anything like certainty. What One Man Did. And the toll of blood grew. West phalia was in open revolution, and the machine guns were working. There had been a pitched battle between strikers and regular troops in the suburbs of Liverpool. Crime statisti- tics leaped upward in bounds and food for millions rotted at wharves and railway stations while hundreds of thousands were in want. A specter of general revolution. "*f world-wide conflict of labor and capi tal, stalked the earth. But through It all the Tunnel Company held up its head. It was weak and tottery, but it was there. And this was the work of one man —Lloyd. When it became evident that the company must be engulfed in the gen eral ruin unless heroic measures couM serve it, Allan went to Lloyd's house and sat up all night with the aged but still mentally alert financier. At 10 the next morning a conference of the leading bankers and financiers of tin- country, representatives of the great European houses, and the directors cf the Tunnel Syndicate was held in the company’s offices. And for the first time time in more than a decade the great "L ’ appeared in person. There was a dead silence when he rose to address the meeting. Spar* 4 and slender, in a black frock coat, with his yellow skinned, hairless, vul ture head rising above the white linen of collar and tie, his heavy-lidded eyes blinking about the room as he slowly turned his head from side to side, there was a suggestion of rep tilian strength, like the languid coil ing of a cobra, tnat awed even these masters of men and money. At his first words a thrill ran through the little gathering. "The Syndicate must not fail!” he said. The words were spoken slowl\ and with pleasured distinctness that gave them a remarkable impressive ness. "The industrial situation in the world to-day is bad enough with out this final catastrophe. If we per mit the Syndicate to fall—if we do not meet our obligations on the sec ond day of January—no man can say what will follow." He paused for a few moments. The hush was almost painful. “The situation to-day is the worst WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE The story opens with Rives, who is in charge of the technical work ings of the great tunnel from Amer.ca to Germany, on one of the tunnel trains, with Baermann, an engineer. In charge of Main Station No. 4. They are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour. Rives is in love with Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrick Allan, whose mind first conceived the great tunnel scheme. After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean Rives gets out of the train. Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst. There is a frightful explosion. Men are flung to death and Rives is badly wounded. He staggers through the blinding smoke, realizing that about 3.000 men have probably perished. He and other survivors get to Station No. 4. Hives finds Baermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want to climb on a work train, somebody shoots Baermann, and the train slides out. The scene is then changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C. H. Lloyd. "The Money King." John Rives addresses them, and Introduces Al lan. Mrs. Allan and Ethel Lloyd, daughter of the financier, are also pres ent. Allan tells the company of his project for a tunnel 3.100 miles long. The financiers agree to back him. Allan and Rives want him to take charge of the actual work. Rives accepts. Rives goes to the Park Club to meet Wit tersteiner, a financier. At Columbus Circle news of the great project is being flashed on a screen. Thousands are watching it. Mrs. Allan becomes a lonely and neglected woman and is much thrown in the company of Rives. Sydney Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Rives' Mrs. Allan has her suspicions aroused as to the friendsship between her husband and Ethel Lloyd. Rives and Mrs Allan let the wine of love get to their heads and. before they know it, they confess their love for each other. Tun nel City's inhabitants learn something has gone wrong in the lower workings of tlie great bore An explosion and fire have occurred in the tunnel, and when tiie workers hear of it definitely they become a raging mob. surging about the entrance of the bore. Mrs. Allan is warned not to leave her home while the excilemem is at its height. But she and her child go forth. They meet a mob of women, frenzied by the disaster, who stone them to death. Rives was missing in the tunnel and Allan, his wife, child, dearest friend and 5 000 other liveH gone, gave way to despair. But he resolves to conquer, not be subdued, by the great project. Gathering a relief train together he hurries into the tunnel. Near the end he comes to a pile of dead bodies. He finally rescues Rives nearly dead. After the disaster the tunnel workers, in terror, strike and the great project 1s stopped. Missing the strain of work, Allan’s melancholy returns and he hastens to Europe. After months of wan dering he returns and finds Rives out of the hospital, but his memory badly affected. Allan’s senses swim when Rives, in a sane moment, tells him he loved Maude, that Allan didn’t The strike ends then Ethel brings the dis heartening message from her father, "Watch Wolf." financial master of the tunnel, who is in Europe. Wolf has speculated and lost $10,000,000 of tunnel funds. Allan asks Ransour. Wolf’s right hand mac, for an accounting at once. Ransour kills himself Wolf is summoned home an^ before Allan. Ho prom ises restitution, but is "fired” out bodily. He decides to flee to Canada, but is trailed by detectives and finally commits suicide under a subway train. Now Go On With the Story. that the world of business has over faced," he went on. "But we must not forget that it is our duty to see that this black time does not grow blacker. If we fail in this crisis the industry of the world may be thrown back half a century'. We must not fail!" Again he paused. No one stirred. The slowly blinking eyes moved around the circle and the Master spoke again. "Bad as is the situation, it could be worse. The failure of the Syndi cate is ail that could make it worse, and the*e is no need that the Syndi cate fall. If we proceed with wisdom and courage we can save the indus trial world from further disaster. We are the (c urt ot the last appeal in the world of business. That world that we have governed now looks to us for help. I say again, we must not fall! "So much for our duty—so much for our aii/l. It now remains to de vise ways and means. It is not my intention to go into details. I can leave that to the younger men who are in immediate command. But we must loose their hands—we must fill their ammunition boxes. The general strike has worn itself out. This N\as inevitable. The strike could not suc ceed because capital was as power less as labor Not capital.” he cor rected hiself, "but the field marshals of capital, the leaders of business, were crippled by an inadequate com missary. "At all cost to ourselves we must release the cash of the world W e must make sacrifices—big sacrifices. In the years to eome we will make it all up again. But to-day we must make the sacrifices that the situation demands. "The vital point is the necessity that the Syndicate pay every cent of interest on its loans on the second day of January. We must stop at nothing to attain that end. “I have spoken of this as a duty. It is more than that. It is a measure of self-preservation To that end 1 pledge every cent of my private for tune. every security I hold that will raise cash at any figure Also I pledge every dollar that the banks now under my control can raise by any means in their power. "I wish to impress on you why 1 am doing this. Leaving our concep tions of duty aside, if the Syndicate fails there will be no private fortunes for us anywhere in the world. The red ruin of revolution will engulf us all!" "THE SECOND OF JAN UARY.” OR weeks the papers of New York and the other big cities of the world had been printing encouraging reports of the financial rehabilitation of the Atlantic Tunnel Syndicate. New Year’s Day was a subdued holiday in New York. There was a tense feeling throughout the city. The hotels were crowded and even the lodging houses of the poor held more than their usual quota of guests. The Syndicate had announced that it would without fail meet every ob ligation on the morning of January 2, but there were hundreds of thousands of panic-cowed men who would not believe until the money was in their hands. For the further strengthening of public confidence the announcement had been made that, wherever de sired, the payment of interest in sums up to $100 would be made in cash at the Syndicate building. All sums be yond that would be paid in check and the four biggest banks in New York printed advertisements in all the pa pers declaring that they would cash any and all checks of the A. T. S. The night of January 1 was bitter cold. The thermometer hoVered around the bulb, and there was a fine sifting snow, hard as sand, that- whirled dow-n betw-een the tall build ings and cut the face like bits of glass. But. in spite of these un friendly sighs, hundreds began gath ering in front of the Syndicate build ing shortly after 1 o’clock in the morning. It was announced that pay ment would begin sharp at 9. All night long the crowd grew-, and when the doors were finally swung back the newspaper reporters esti mated that 30.000 men and women were massed about the great build ing. And with a roar the great flood sucked in at one point and the build ing began swallowing them at the rate of hundreds to the minute. Inside the paying tellers w-ere sta tioned at little windows behind long partitions. Between these partitions the horde surged, dozens of special police striving to keep some sem blance of order. Long lines were roughly formed against each little window and the human automatons behind the little brass rods dealt out money as fast as their nimble fingers would work. For more than two hours they worked without interrup tion, but the crowd outside was hard ly noticeably diminished. They were only more closely packed and covered less street space. Suddenly there was an interrup tion. You^are to remember that the stock certificates ran from $10 up and the Syndicate was paying only In terest; so that an immense amount of small money was required. Three of the tellers* were compelled to close their windows to go for more money. Instantly there was congestion on the floor. The long lines that had been formed against these windows— men and women, pushing and strain ing eagerly—were suddenly stopped. The word was passed back that the windows were closed temporarily, as the tellers had run short of change. In transit the message was badly al tered. When it reached- the end of the lines and came to the crowd out side it was to the effect that the money was running short and they were closing the windows. The mob surged and heaved down into the doorway in an irresistible mass. The pressure on the lines in creased until they were broken and crushed in. Those that held places nearest the windows clung to the railings and partitions, fearful of be ing pushed on past before they could get their money. There were curses and screams, straining and pushing and fighting, and then one great red-fisted man smashed a glass partition and bel lowed for his money. "I’ve got $300 worth of certificates here and I want my $300!" he roared. "You can’t get it!” snapped a dis tracted teller. "You know that you can’t get anvthing but the interest." No one has ever pretended to ana lyze the psychology of a mob. Every man and woman within the sound of the teller’s voice knew, and had known for months and years, that he was stating a perfectly well-known fact. Rut the effect was much the same as if he declared that they could not get the interest. With a howl of rage they swept forward and the partition began to sag and crackle. Hundreds were now fighting to <$et out of the press. They didn't want their money. They want ed their lives. Suddenly a partition gave way and the mob. like a river breaking through a levee, swept in among the desks and tables of the offices. The clerks and tellers seized their packages of bills and money boxes and threw them into the vaults in the twinkling of an eye. but quick as they were some were caught in the rush and monev was strewn all over the floor. This was the last touch. It was pandemonium. Allan in Danger. In the midst of the uproar some leather-lunged madman yelled for Allan. The next instant the mob in side and outside the building had taken up the cry and a torrent headed for the stairs. The elevator runners had abandoned their posts at the first sign of trouble. At the'tenth floor they were stopped by a solid mass of special police that had been gathered from the upper floors. The police gave ground slow ly. as the pressure in front of them increased They argued and threat ened, but without avail. They had been instructed not to use violence excepting in self-defense or to pro tect the lives of others. Finally the police were backed up to the twelfth floor, and the long, bfack snake of humanity wound down beneath them until it mingled with the press in the street. The officers were gathering to charge the crowd as a last resort when a terrible ally came to their aid. No one ever knew how it happened. A dropped match or cigarette in the debris of the wrecked ground floor may have started it. Out of the de serted counting room into the hail and up the stairs came a long tendril of black smoke. The Syndicate Building was in flames! THE PARIAH. A LLAN, with the directors of the Syndicate, held a meeting two days after the fire. Their build ing was destroyed and with the build ing many valuable papers and rec ords. The greater part of these were preserved in the fireproof safes, but an appalling number of these vaults had been left open in the panic. It was a quiet meeting. The dull weight of despair hung over these men who had toiled for years and toiled in vain to achieve the greatest undertaking in the history of the world. They now faced a record of fifteen years of wasted effort and millions upon millions of wasted money. For at last even the indomitable Allan had given up. He looked thin and world-weary, and his gray hair had turned almost white. "If I could see the slightest hope ahead I would advise that we hold on in spite of everything,” he said. “But I begin to believe that Fate it self Is against us. It is not so much the actual damage that the fire did. This is a wicked and unexpected blow, but we might even survive that. But the most sensible men in the country have become superstitious about the tunnel. They shrink away from you at the bare mention of it. It in im possible. now- or in the immediate fu ture, to regain public confidence, and without that we are lost. I do not see anythin^ for it but voluntary bankruptcy.” This was the end. The next day the Insolvent Syndicate was an nounced. and the world stood still. That night a menacing mob gath ered in the lobby of the Park Hotel, where Allan was living. Asked to Leave. The manager, pale-faced and apol ogetic, asked "if he would mind leav ing, for a time at least.” Allan smiled understandinglv. “Not at all," he said. He telephoned to another hotel and engaged apartments. The next night the same performance was repeated. Allan found it convenient to leave New York. He thought of going to Tunnel City, but young O’Malley, who was in temporary charge, advised against it. He said they were sitting on a magazine there, and the appear ance of Allan might precipitate an ex plosion. He went to Buffalo, the city where he had first begun the manufacture of Allanite, the diamond steel that had made the tunnel possible. But here, too, he was threatened with vio lence and his property, mortgaged to the hilt, was marked for destruction if he remained. He tried to bury himself in Chi cago, but he was too well known to remain long concealed. And the same persecution followed him there. Hold ing himself guiltless of all crime, Al lan found himself an outlaw. The man who had been decorated by sov ereigns, honored by the greatest sci entific societies and hailed as one or the world’s greatest men was hunted with curses and revilings up and down the world. Even the friendliest of the news papers at last turned-against him. So did many of the old directors. They saw a chance to make capital of |he persecution. If Allan could be made the scapegoat, if the entire blame for the failure could be heaped upon him, there might still be a chance to rehabilitate the company. But the campaign lost force gradu ally from lack of material, and final ly Allan received his first word from the Lloyds. To do them Justice, this was no fault of theirs—that they had not found him out. He had simply disappeared. At last a note from Ethel came to his hand. He was a guest for a few davs at Vanderstyfft’s country place at the time. The Note. “My dear Mr. Allan," it ran. "papa suggests that I ask you to go to our farm. Turtle River, in Manitoba, and stav there as long as you like. Father may be able to join you. In any case he would like to have you feel th,< you are his guCst for as lone- a9 ypu care to remain. I can recommend th“ trout fishing—also the horses. We will certainly be there within a few months if you care to remain that long. You will be glad to know that New York has calmed down to a very marked extent and father sees many honeful signs for the future. "Cordially vours, "ETHEL LLOYD.” To Be Continued Monday. HERE’S the ice pick?" in ordinary man, ing upstairs from the basement and hunting languidly In the tool drawer. "Isn’t it in the drawer?” His wife came across the room to help him hunt. "Not there? Isn’t that strange? I was sure it was there!" “Strange!” The ordinary man’s tone was scornful. “Strenge!" He shut the drawer with a bang. “If I’ve bought one ice pick, I’ve bought fifty! If I want to have a thing in this house where I can find It when I want it I’ve got to keep it chained in my pocket with my keys! I never heard of another house like it!” He put his hands into his pockets and strode up and down the kitchen as he talked., "Here’s t^e ice melting and nothing to chip it with—and hotter than fury! 1 suppose you never dreamed that we’d need iced drinks this weather. Aq ordinary woman would have seen to it that that ice pick was somewhere where it would be handy! But your mind !« wandering off somewhere. The Complaint. ‘Tt’s the same way with every tor mented thing around thts ranch!** stormed the ordinary man. “aat win ter could I ever find the hathet when I wanted it? No! Hatchet after hatchet I brought home, and yet as soon as I needed one there was not one to be found I You let the children play with them or sell them for brooms, I sup pose! But as far as putting them away In any regular place and remembering the spot over night—why, rd drop dead if you ever suggested such a marvel! "Could I find the garden rake this spring? No! I had to go down and buy out the hardware store after I’d laid in a whole new outfit last! summer!" “Why,” interrupted hie wife, “you know yourself that you lent your gar den outfit to Mr. Daniels and he carried them away when he moved and ” "Yes, and you expected me to come from the office and bang around, w • n Daniels moved, to see that he didn't carry off my property! Hang it! Why don’t you watch out for a few thing.-*! Why don’t you keep your eyes open! You seem to think I am solely responsi ble for things about this place! I don’t know who Is responsible if it isn’t you! You ought to see the place father had at home. There waa the tool shed and it ” “Yes. a big tool Shed—and who took care of it? I heard your father say that he passed all his leisure time in that shed. And your mother said she never j had to think of repairs—your father was | so good about remembering everything. ! He kept all her knives sharpened and r “I suppose you think I ought to hang j around home sharpening knives, when j I can get a man for half a dollar to sharpen all we ever owned! It show * how- much you think of my business ability. You can’t appreciate my work.” The Retracton. "I never said I didn't appreciate any thing. But you said your father ’’ “Now, we’ll leave my father quite out of the discussion,” exclaimed the or<fi- nary man, warmly. "He had nothing to do with the ice pick being gone. Here it is Sunday and no ice pick! I tell you it's the same with the hammer —and w-ith the screwdriver that I got last Christmas. I’ve never seen them ” "Oh!" exclaimed his wife. “Don’t you j remember that you fixed up a bench in the attic with your new- tools Christmas i week and I’ll bet your things are up there!” “Jimmy! That’s what I did!” He took the stairs tw-o at a time. "Tup, here they all are! Lucky I had the good sense to put them away or they’d been all lost by this time. Shows what a good housekeeper you are not to know they’re here!” TERRIBLE STATE Not Slow. A reverend gentleman was address ing a school class recently, and was trying to enforce the doctrine that tho hearts of the little ones were sin ful and needed regulating. Taking out his watch and holding it up he said: "Now, here is my watch; suppose it doesn’t keep good time—now goes too fast and now too slow. What shall I do with it?” "Sell it!” shouted a small young ster. Not the Right Angle. A professor of art. whose absence of mind is remarkable, recently had occa sion to use a cab. Looking round, he espied one coming in his direction, drawn by a miserable specimen of horse flesh. He hailed the cabman, and was about to enter the vehicle when, look ing at the horse, he stopped, dum- founded. "What’s this, driver?" said the teach er of drawing sternly. "A horse, of course, sir," replied the cabman. "A horse, eh?” said the professor ab stractedly. "Well, rub it out and do it over again." Finds Help in Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. Bellevue, Ohio.—“I wa« in a terri ble state before I took Lydia E. Pink- h a m's Vegeta ble Compound. M y back ached until 1 thought it would break. I had pains all over me, nerv ous feelings and periodic troubles I was very weak and run down and was losing hope of ever being well and strong. After taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vega- table Compound I improved rapidly and to-day am a well woman. I can not tell you how happy I feel and 1 can not say too much for your Com pound. Would not be without It in the house If It cost three times the amount."—Mrs. Charles Chapman, R. F. D. No. 7, Bellevue, Ohio. Because your case it> a difficult one, doctors having done you no good, do not continue to suffer without giving Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound a trial. It surely has remedied many cases of female ills, such as In flammation, ulceration, displacement!, tumors, Irregularities, periodic pains, backache, and it may be exactly what you need. The Plnkham record Is a proud and peerless one. Tt is a record of con stant victory over the obstinate His of woman—411s that deal out despair. It is an established fact that Lydia E. PlnkhanYs Vegetable Compound has restored health to thoueand* of such suffering womt*n. Why dona you try It if you teta such a medicine? | VI < V