...--.,. And he shook hands with me, and Lady Mills kissed me, and Mrs. Clowes gave me a. cold little bow ; and they sent me oï¬ to bed without knowmg even then the enor- mity of the breach of propriety I had czmmitted. Every oneâ€"nearly every one, for Mrs. Clowes, newer tame near me at allâ€"bade me a very kind good-bye; and just asl was stating in the phwï¬ou‘ Waiting Inr Sir Jonas to take his place beside me, Gondon. Mr. Carruther's mysterious servant, came up to me in his stolidly respectful manner, and asidâ€" “I think this is something of yours. ma'am. You must have dropped it, for I found it on the stairs, and I am afraid it has been slightly injured." And he put my ptnlant into my hands. I was so much aatonished that he was gone before I could even thank him : and than, turning it Over in my hands, I found the liltle shield on which the initials were engraved had been wrenched 03'. “has Gordon himself the thief, and had he repented? 01‘ had tbs person who took it tetn ashamed to Inshore it in person? Or had I really dropped it, and only dreamt that I punt awzy? "gif Janis, who was going up to town the next morning, was to drive me to the Alden, and then go on to B:auouaburgr stafign. “Tom, aren’t you just a. little ashamed of yourself 2" And he answered very gravelyâ€" " Perhaps ; but that doesn’t matter. But this inqusition is out of place, Stephana, for it is easy to see that to that child night and day are all the same ; and. if I had been my respected father in inzquity himself, she would have been none the worse for my so- ciety. It was very sensible of you to come to Lady Mills, child,†he said to me very kindly. . ... 11,3! -- -._, Vsh ivy-covered walls of this house on the marsh, Vi hich, though I had lived in it two months. still had mysteries for me. Al the questions which had puzzled me abrut this household came into my mind again with new lorce after my short absence, which seem: d, with its fresh experiences, to have lasted so long, together with others which had arisen while I liatfned to the talk of my new friends. “’as M rs, Reyna really mad? If so, how was it that no sus- picion of the fact had reached that gossip- loving company I had just 1i ft, who had tales to tell of almost eiery family in the neighborhood ? Why lad the ladies called kind Mr. liynar, who always went to church and led the simplest of llVGP, “dread. fully wicked?†They did not think it wrong to play the violin or to 90 to races. And why, if they thought him “ dreadfully wicked.†did they all any they would give the world to know him ? What was the re. lation between Mr. Raynor and Gordon, Mr. Carruther’s servant? 'l hen was Sarah really Mrs. Rayner’s guardian ; and was she not herself a. little mad too ? What lei become of the wild jealousy of Jane which she had expressed to the stranger in the plantation? And why did she hate me so? Had she stifled her hatred once and for all, or would sheâ€" Oh, what would she not do, if her wicked, senseless dislike of me should get the betterpf her again? Then she stopped, for Mr. Calruthers had come into the room ; and turning from me to him, she said, in such a. stem voice that it made me trembleâ€" uâ€"“The laterkilgiéeitér, my dear, I should say,†said Mrs. Clowes, in her most cutting tone. follgwed by the gaunt Sarah carrying my little trunkâ€"like a gaoler rejJiciug over a. recaptured prisoner, 1 thoughr ungratefully to myself as I camefliu sight of the dark re , A- u.» _____r_ “She caught cold, miss, wandering round the pond late Saturday night, because she said she could talk to you there. Such nonsence I But you know she is full of her fancies. †“flailâ€"ism know, my dear, that Mr. Can‘uthers is one of the most dangerous menâ€"â€"†It was better to talk to her than to think of her. and I turned and asked after Mr. and Mrs. Rayner and lhidee. My pupil was not well,a.nd had not got up that day ; but Sarah would ask if I could could go and see her. "Never mind,†said he. "They are sure not to have gone to bed yet. I'll take you in by a side-door I know, and you shall slip into the library and open a big book before ou. And I'll bring in Cole and one or two others, and any we didn’t know what had become of you ; and you can pretend to have fallen asleep over a. book.†. .u "‘2: 1 But Lady Mill's face wax lightening as she looked at me. CHAPTER XVIII. VVneu Sir Jonas lelt me at the glte of the A\ders that morning, a. sense of desolation {:rgpt 0\:ex_‘ mg as I walked down the? drive, CHAPTER XV ILâ€"Coxrmuan. \Vhen we landed at the boat-house, the church clock was just chiming the half-hour past one. The latenees of the hour shocked _F‘ J ' “My dear child, where have you been 2†We thought you were lost!†Her voice trembled. "0b, Lady Mills, I am so sorry l I went on the water with Mr. Carruthers. He said you would not mind; but I ought to have known better when it was so lgte.†I was touched by the proof of little Haidee’s affection for me, and I wanted to go to her at once; but Salah said Mrs. Rayner was with her and did not wish to “But. why should I do all that 2" said I. “I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. You said Lady Mills would not mind.†“No, of course not, my dear child; I’ll tell Lady Mills all about it. Don’t trouble your head about that. She won't say a word to yon, and you need not say a Word to her. But none of the other ladies could have done a. thing so unusual as you have in your in- nocenceâ€"andâ€"aud 81' Jonas would cold you for your rashness, and say you might have taken cold." uu u. an...“ vv "But it wouldn’t look innocent to pretend I had never been out at all, Mr. Cuvruthers. And I wasn’t alone ; I was with youâ€"so I was all right. I dare say Lady Mills has not gone to bed yet. I’ll go and see.†And Iran away before he conld prevent me. and found Lady Mills and Mrs. Clowes in the drawing-room, the former looking anxious and grave, the latter hard and anggg. ... . . ,,, LAA_ .n IN GOLDEN BONIDS. be disturbed. So I went tip-stairs, haNing atked in as careless a. mannxr as I could, if there were any letters for me, and having been told that there were not. Laurence might have sent me justalittle note ; I had been so longing for one. He had not been nearly so nice since I told him I loved him, I thought to myself mouinfully ; and I sat with my head on my arms and cried. But I had not much time to indulge my grief, for it was nearly dinner-time, and I did not want Mr. and Mrs. Rayner to see my eyes red and swollen, and to think that my holiday had made me discontented. But I think that Mr. Rayner saw that something was wrong, for he looked at me very closely, sndiseid I did not look any better for the change, and that it was plain dissipation did not agree with me. And, as I was still rather pensive and my voice a little tremu- lous. he asked me only a. few questions about my visit and then left me to myself, for which I was very grateful. In the afternoon I was allowed to go into Haidee’s room. It was a. cold day, and the room itself and the long corridor which led to it struck me as feeling damp and chilly. It was the ï¬rst time that I had been in the left wing. Haidee‘s chamber was a. little dressing-room without a. ï¬replace, and I wondered why they did not move the child, who was really ill, into another room. She I felt a. little disconcerted, for he said this rethermischievously; and I began to wonder whether he would approve of the governess having enjoyed herself quite so much, for I had forgotten to be digniï¬ed and prim altogether while I was at Denham Court. Haidee begged me so hard to have tea with her that I was obliged to consent, the more willingly that Mrs. Rayner, who had never once came in to see her child while I was in the room, had seemed, by the way she greeted me on my return, to have ex- changed her attitude of apathy towards me for one of dislike. While we were alone together over our tea, Haidee said very softlg~ n. . i. u. id_n __ Ln LL, This was locked; but I put my head against it, listened, and assured her there was no one there. Then she beckoned me back to her and put up her head to whisper. .plr‘ "Last night, rthat: hateful Sarah m-ade mamma cry. I heard her through the door. Mamma’s frightened of Sarahâ€"and so am I. Hgsh l Somebody is always lis'tening.†e. But no listener, could have heard her soft: whisper ; even I, with my ear close to the lips, could scarcely catch the faint sounds. I comforted her, told her Sarah would not hurt: her or “mamma†eitherâ€"though I felt by no means so sure of her good will as I pretended to beâ€"and stay ed with her until sherwenf to sleep: .. - u u 1 cutting the gézpes and, the flowers. Mr. Rayner peeped in once, and, after listening to part of my narrative, saidâ€" “I shall want to hear about all that too, bye-and-by, Miss Christie; but: shall want another edition, one not .revised for the use of infants.†"'>"l “Miss Christie, will you please go to the door and see ifanybody’s listening 2†I went to the door to content her, opened it. and saw that there was no one. "And now will you listen at the other doorâ€"mammals door 2" Then I wrappéd myself up in a. shawl and went. into the plantation to look at my “nest.†And there, leaning with his back against the tree which formed my seat, was Laurence. I gave a. cry of delight and ran forward, but he only raised his hat and said. “Good evening, Miss Christie.†I stopped short,overwhelmed with dismay, Then I said in quite a low husky voice, for I could acatccly get the words out-â€" jumped up in bed and clasped her hot little hands round my neck as soon as I came in, and then drew my head down on the pillow beside her and told me to tell her every- thing I had done from the ï¬rst moment I went away. So I made a little story of it all, leaving out the parts it would have been improper for her to hear, such as the be- haviour of Mr. Carruthers in church, and laying pirticular stress upon such poims of interest as my feeding the fhickens and “Why shzuld I be gmd to see you, Miss Christie ? I can't hope to show to advantage in your eyes after the more amusing society you have just left.†, "r. h, - xxVx._-. "Anus" ,1» I "What do you mean? What society do I like better than yours '2†“Oh, you are wry kind ; and I dare say I do very well as a make-shift when there is no more exciting amusement to be had!†“0h, Laurence, how can you say such cruel things? Are you angry because I went to Denham Court, and because I enjoyed myself? I couldn't help it, every body was so kind. But I thought of you all the time, and I wished with all my heart that you hal been there,†“Did you think of me while you were letting Mr. Czrruthers Whisper to you in the conservatu'y? Ah, I don‘t wondcr you start I And did you think of me when you were sitting in the winduw~eeat with Mr. Cairuthers leaning over your chair, and when you was using the same book in church with Mr. Citruthers, and letting Mr. Carruthers gathcr fruit and flowers for you, and feeding the ï¬sh with him in. oh, such an idyll'c manner, and playing his accom' paniments, and talking about poetry, and †“L1urex;éé,wvlvl‘1:y do you apenk like that? Areg’pyw‘ g1:th t'o_see me 7†Il',, ‘ Stop, Laurenceâ€"it isn‘t true, it isn’t true I It was Mr. Cole who gathered flowers and fruit for me. and who looked at the ï¬sh with meâ€"â€"nob Mr. Carruthers at all. And it was Mr. Standing whose accompaniments I played and who talked abuut poetry with me, notâ€"†"Mr. Standing? He‘s another beauty! You choose your friends well. Miss Christie. I feel I am not Worthy to be admitted amopg the number. I am too dull." J's-No,†said I; then, stung to the quick by sneersâ€""I wasn’t at Denham Conrt long enou_gh."l'_ “You are too rude." said I, my spirit rising. "I don’t know what you mean by calling them ‘beauties ;’ but ntne of the gentlemen you sneer at would have thought. of insulting me and trying to make me un- happy, just because I sometimes talk to othu: people." «ur my ' No, yau tried to be impartial, I see," he sueered a aiu. “But I don’t think you suc- ceeded. on were not on the river between tWere and two o’clock in the morning with all the men-visitors at Denham Court, were you}? .. ..v .. . ;, LL, ,,,:,L “Ooh 7!†said Laurenceflémore angrily than ever. He was so angry that he began to speak again two or three times, but only Vtht society do Laurence turned upon me sharply. “Mr. Rayner has a. friend staying there,†said I, with sudden caution. I must not let out things concerning the people I was living with Whic‘a they did not wish to have known. "Mr.'R1yner! Oh, that is ing !" “I did not mean that. Of course he would not think of such a thing. And there is no need of a spy to watch my actions, for I don’t do anything to be ashamed of. And Mr. Rayner knows that, for he has said nothing to me about my conduct, which you seem to think so disgraceful.†“Mr. Raynor l No, of course he would not mind. It is nothing to him whether you endanger your reputation by going out alone late at night With one of the most notorious f].le men about town.†“But how could I tell he was notorious, Laurence 2†said lâ€"I couldn’t be spirited any longer ; I wanted to cry. "Lady Mills said afterwards that he was dangerous ; but could I tell before? Nobody ram away fer him, and all the ladies seemed fond of him, and rather jealous because he talked to me. And he didn't say wicked thingsâ€"not half so wicked as the things they said. Oh, Laurence, don't be harsh to me I How could I tell '1 “Mr. ‘Rayner. I promised to be in the drawing-room to accompany his violin at a. quarter to seven †“Pray don’t let me detain you,†said he betweui his teeth. “I am sorry I came at all to disturb you in your meditations upon your late enjoyment. But, as I shall leave Goldham for the Riviera. in two (bye, and dull not have another opportunity of seeing, you before I go, I took the liberty of coming round this way tonight, to congratulate you on having become an accomplished coquette. Goodnight and good-bye. Miss Cnristie. I wish you an )ther pleasant evening with Mr. Rayner.†He shook hands with me, trembling all over with passion, and dashed away through the plantation before I could ï¬nd voice to call him back. I was too utterly miserable to cry ; I sank upon my seat, with a. con- fused sense that all joy and brightness and hope had gone out of my life. since Laurence had left me angry and unforgiving; but I could not think. I sat there staring at the pond until Mr. Rayner himself came out in search of me; and, seeing how unhappy I looked, he very kindly told me that I was tired and should not play that night ; but I said that I would rather ; so we wmt in and I sat down to the piano, and he took out his violin. 7 ‘7‘0h; more mysteries ! So Mr. Rayner set a. spy upon you ; I can't quite believe it of him." But the spirit was not in me on that night, and I played the notes loudly or softly as was marked, without: a. spark of the ï¬re which is the soul of music. At last Mr. Rayner went out of the room. Ibwas to go and see Haidee; but. in my despondent state it flashed through my mind that it was because my heartless playing was spoiling the music, and atear rolled at last down my cheek on to one of my hands. Mr. Rayner stopped, put down his violin, and mid. oh, so kindlyâ€" “N5, child, I am not so selï¬sh as that. It would hurt me more than you. Come and sit by the ï¬re, and I will bring you Nap to plav with.†He was touched at last; the hand with which he had been angrily pulling at his moustache dropped, and he was turning slowly towards me, whén the church clock and the far off Beaccnsburgh town hall clock began to strike seven together. “Oh I†said I, turning instictively towards the house. “What is it ?†asked Laurence, suddenly stiffening again. "Oh, ituis nothmg', Mr. Rayvner ! Let me g0 ‘09. le-I' “\Vrat is it, my poor child? I did not mean to make a martyr of you. But I saw you were in a. and mood, and I thought: the music might divert your thoughts.†Nap was his big retriever. Mr. Rayner drew my arm in his, seated me by the ï¬re, and left the room; and I dried my eyes, feeling heartily ashamed of myself. What would he think of a. governess who went away on a. short visit, did things that shocked people, and came back and cried. and could not play, and made hereself a. burden to everybody? He came back with Nap at his heels, and a. glass and decanter in his hand ; then, sitting down by me, he poured me out some wine and told me to drink it. I beg! n apologetictllyâ€" “Oh, Mr. Rayner, Iam soâ€"†"Yes, I know. You are so very sorry that you can't help thinking Denham Court a. livelier place than the Alders, and so very scrry that you were obliged to leave a lot of nice, bright, amusing people there to came luck to a couple of very worthy, but vprosy people wlioâ€"-" "Oh, no, no, 110, Mr. Rayner, not that at all i" said I, alarmed. "\Vasn't that what you were going to say? No, my child, you were going to say something far more civil, but not half so true. We may be worthy, but we are prosy; and why should we not own it? And why should you not own that you enjoyed yourself more at Donham Court than you can possibly do here? \Vhy, that is the very thing you went there for l" “I ought never to have gone at all.†“Now that is a mistake, my dear child. If you were toremain always boxed upin thi dreary old vault, you would soon take to spectacles and a crutch. Take all the amusement that comes in your way, little woman. and, after the ï¬rst natural reaction, you will work all the better for it. And now tell me all about Denham Court; I've been saving myself up for your description as a little treat, though I've heard something of your doings, Miss Prim, from another quarter.†And this was what Laurence, in his pas- sion, called "spying upon me,†when Mr. Rayner owned that he heard what went on at Denham Court 1 “I heard, for one thing, that you wore the pendant I gava you.†He seemed pleased at this, I thought. “Yes, it looked so beautiful with my not surpris- muslin frock. Anl, oh, do you know. some of the people thought it was male of real diamonds l†“Dd they really?" "Yes; I knew you would laugh when I told you that. But now you see it wasn’t so silly of me not to know the difference when you ï¬rst showed them to me, when thoss people who have worn diamonds and beautiful jewels all their lives were taken in by them. One of the gentlemen, Mr. Cn- ruthers, said he once mm a. pendant just like it in real ones, and it was worth ï¬fteen hundred pounds. D0 ytllx think itis true ‘2" “I dark say it is. ' Stones of that size would be very valuable. To whom did it belogg ? _ “He didn’t say. And it had initials behind it too just like mine.†“How very curious l The same initials ‘3†“Oh, I don’t know 1 I shouldn’t think they were the same.†“I thought he said they were the same ‘1" "Oh, no I He wanted to see the back of the pendant ; but I wouldn‘t let him.†"\Vhy not ?" “VVell‘ you see, Mr. Rayner. Iâ€"I thought. if he still went on thinking they were real, as 1 believed he did. and he were to ï¬nd out by the initials who gave it me, whyâ€"why he would think you must be mad. Mr. Rayner, to give diamonds to a governess !†said II laughingly. “ Fifteen hundred pounds ! Why, it would be about thirty- eight year's salary l†Mr. Rayner laughed too. "That was very sharp of you," he said. “If he had been as sharp as you, he would have got at it, and found out the initials, if he really wanted to know them.†“But I didn‘t wear my pendant again. “\Vhy not ?†“Became people noticed it too much, and â€"and Mr. Ryan, it is really too handsome for me." "'And what was the name of that fortu- nate lady ?" “Mrs. Cunningham." "What did Mrs. Cunningham think of your pendant ‘Z" ‘ '1 suppose there were some ladies there with jewellery that made your eyes water.†“They didn't wear much ; but I believe some of them had a great deal. One ladyâ€" abe was the wile of a, very rich husband who wasn’t thereâ€"had dazzling diamonds, they said.†' “St-w would not believe it was not real, and she scolded me for my carelessness; but I reglly didâ€"â€"_†I v- . !1 AVI 7 “I suppose she is very careful of hers intrerjupced Mr. Ra_.yn_er. _ “Ohfyesâ€"yéu dbn’l: know how careful I She has one set. diamonds and cat’s eyes By 8. sudden movement he trod on Nap’s tail, and the dcg howled. I broke 013‘ to comfort him. “Nonsense l Nothing is too handsome for you, child; haven't your new admirers told you that “I†I laughed and blushed. "B it, Mr. Rtyner," I went on gravely and rather timidly, “then such a strange thing happened that I must sell you about. I put my pendant into my deskâ€"â€"a.t least, I am almont sure I didâ€"on Szturday night, and next day it was gone.†"Well, we must ï¬nd you another.†“Oh. no 1 But this is the strangest part. Just befor I left this morning. Mr. Carra- ther’s servant put it into my hand, saying he had picked it up on the stairs. And the little shield with the initials was broken off and lost. I sn’t it strange 1'†and bet. Isn’t it strange 1'†"WHEN. not considering that they were pmte. If they had been diamonds, I should say it was very strange that he gave it back again. You careless little puss, you don’t deserve to have any ï¬nery at all! \Vhat will you do when you have real jewels, if you are not more careful with mock ones ?" “Oh, Mr. Rayner, I hope I never shall I" ‘ Do you mean that 2†I hesitated. “I mean they seem to be such a heavy responsibility to the ladies that wear them." “Go on, go on,†said 1 ing my arm impafiently. “What was. I sayIng? Oh, I know-â€" about. Mrs. Cunningham’s jewels. She has one set of what they call cat’s-eyes and large diamonds, which she keepsâ€"†“That Ishe keeps where?" said Mr. Riy- ner, yawning, as |f tired. “Oh, that she keeps always concealed about her person 1†said I. “D) you mean it ?†he asked, much inter- ested. “Yes, really. She told me so. And no- body iu the house, not even her maid, knows whe r3 they are. She sleeps with them under her pillow.†Mn Rayner rose. “Well. I don’t think even the responsibility of diamonds under your pillow would keep you awake to-nighb, for you must be tired out.’ , I He was ï¬dgeting ‘about the room, as if he were anxious about going to bed too. But he did not look sleepy; his eyes Were quite bright and restless. He gave me my candle. “Pleasant; dreams of Denhan Court, ma.- dam, though you don’t deserve them ! What business have you to repeat secrets that have begu told to you in conï¬dence 1'" “0h, Mr. Rayner, asâ€"if it matteredâ€"to you}? said _I, lpughing as_I_1§f§;> the roon'rk "Yes, It ii luc‘iw {on told it to me,†he answered laughing back. (TO BE CONTINUED.) «M4‘->oo Fast English Trains. The longest run Without stopping, on the Great Northern, and the longest in the kingdom, are between Grantham and King‘s Cross. 105k miles, in 2 hours and 4 minutes, an average speed of 51 miles an hour. This distance is done by no less than four trains each dav, all of which perform the Journey within 2 hours and 6 minutes. The highest average speed attained on this line, 52} miles, is between Grantham and Doncaster (51; miles in 58 minutes.) The longest run on the North eastern is ï¬rom York to New- castle, SOi miles, in 1 hour and 42 minutes ; and the quickest, York to Darlinrzton, 44;} miles, in 5:5 minutesâ€"an average speed of 50 miles an hour. "Mamma," saida. precocious little boy who, against his will, was made to rock his little baby brother, “ if the Lord has any more babies to give away, don't you take them.†Mr. Rayner, touch- The Current Leading to Dem Whirl pool. and How a Prommc f an Avoided It. (Albany. N. Y.. Journal.) Among the hundreds of thousands of tourists who have visited N'agara. Falls and stood in awe before its miracle of power. there is, prol‘ahly, not one who has failed to notice the large stone building which stands directly opposite the ca’nract and a short distance below the railroad suspension and cantilever bridges, This buildingis known to all as the ‘ 'Monteegle'chse,"md it has been a pepular place of resort for hundreds of travellers during many years. Nearly every place in America possessing unusual natural scenery las its legend, and a most tragical one is located on the site where this stone building now stands. Montcagle, a young Chieftain of the Miami Indians, loved the daughter of a mighty Chief among the Iro~ ([‘loiï¬. His wooing, unlike that of Hiawatha, was not received witn favor by the father chief, and hence he was compelled to resort to the usual method of abduction and flight. The escaping pair were overtaken on the banks of the Niagara. where the hotel now stands, and rather then submit to capture the lovers cast themselves into the cataract below. Their bodies were subsequently found at the mouth of the river clasped in an embrace which even the cataract could not sunder. Many occurrences since that time have tended to make the Montengle famous, and it was with surprise thatit was learned a short time since that the ediï¬ce was to be entirely tiansiormed, re arranged and refurnished for the beneï¬t of tourists, and especially invalids. Feeling that this is a. subject in which the public would take unusual interest, especi- ally a; the National Park question is being so strongly agitated, a. representative of this paper visited Niagara r‘alls yesterday and learned the following facts: “ It was brought about, as such troubles usually are, by mental and physical depres- sion, arising out of troubles and reverses. The mind has a. remarkable effect upon the body, and when one meets with mis‘ortnnes ï¬nancially, or in any other form they are likely to be accompanied by misfortunes physically. Such, at allevents, was my case. I was irritable. restless and feverish. Ihad a heavy and ixregular pulse. my food did not assimilate, my heart would throh vio‘ lently and then stop and the fluids I passed were profuse. high-colored and thick with deposits. I was obliged to a‘andon my practice, and also to suspend pushing in, valuable invention, known as ‘ Crumbs pocket inhaler,’ for the cure of catarrh and asthma." " How long did this continue?" “ For about two years. I realized that I was quite sick but like everyone else I felt it would only be temporary. The majority of people drift alone, the way a man might who knew nothing about these great Falls and was flrating with the current. It is so easy to drift, you see. At the end of a year, however, my condition became simply horrible. lhad a. serious irritation of the throat, a. hard, sluggish pulse, a. swelling of the limbs and numbness extending down the thighs. I had terrible night sweats and my urine was loaded with albumen and acids. I called in seve ml of the most skillful phy- sicians but I continued to sink rapidly. I was the victim of Bright's disease of the kid- neys, and I looked forward with almmt cer~ tainty to a few weeks of terrible agony and then â€" death 1" ' ' " It is painful to describe this experience and it is sufï¬cient to say that I am entirely well and that my life has been saved by means of \Varner'sSafe Uure, which arrested the disease, efl'ected a cure and has preserved me in health ever since †Dr. W. R. Crumb, who is about under- taking this impr-rlant task, is a gentleman who is well known throughout the land, having succpssfully practiced medicine in the city oi Buffalo for nearly thirty years. He is exceedingly well preserved, though nearly 60 veal-s of age, while his energy and ambition are something wonderful. In con- versation with the reporter he said :‘ _ i‘ I anticipate great; success here, although a few years ago 1 should not have dared un- dertake it, for I was then what people call OCCUI‘ “Then it WM this remedy that saved your_|_ife, _doctor ? "_ " Yes, I can testify from a. grateful heart. that it. is invaluable for men or women who are depressed by reason of disappoint men’s and Ieverses; who are losmg flesh and strength and who must ï¬nd relief or a. fetal termination awaits them. I prescribe this great remedy to my patients constantly and ï¬le wonderfï¬l effec'ts- I observed in m} own case I see repeated in their experiences. It is this that makes me certain I can endure the cares of the great Sanitarium I am about to establish.†PEOTORIAI Pectoris Pectorial the great remedy for Coughs. Golds, Bronchitis. Sore Throat. Influenn. Hoarseuesa. and 3.11 aï¬ecciona of the Lun and Throat or Chest. Pectorialoosens thephl an breakauptha Cough. 25 cents per Bottle. Dont give up until you have tried Pectonn; all Drugg'iata and General Stom- keeners sell it. A man‘s collective dispositions constitute his character. Really good men think of opportunity, and not of time. Time is the excuse of feeble and puzzled minds. ConNsl CORNS ! Tender oorns, painful coma. soft oorns. bleedmg coma, hard coma, Corns of all kinds and of all sizes. are alike removed in a. few days by the use of PUTNAM'S PAINLEBS CORN EXTRACTOR. Never fails to cure. never causes pain. never leaves deep spots that are more annoying than the orimnal discomfort, Give Putnam's Painless Corn Extractor a trial. Beware of substitutes Sold by drug giats everywhere. Pelson 8:. 00.. Kingston, DI‘ODI‘S. - Nothing makes us more agreeable to God and man than to have great merit and a. little opinion of ourselves. BANK BABES. CHEESE FAUTUBJES, Creamer-has. Farm Houses, Grannies. Grist. mm: and Saw Mills Stables. Bridges. Drainage of Lands, eu‘, Plans uue Estimates prepared and advice 'ven for n]- tcrations, improvements, or new blliï¬linga. Alan Maodougall, a. dead man.’ MAIL BUILDIN “How was that, Doctor? How did it OVER THE CATA [{AUT. ‘nsultin CHARGES MODERATE. m Sanitary Enginee TORONTO A. P. 167.