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Mr. Joseph Blackwell, ‘Holmesville, Ont. says; "I derived more benefit Iron: the use of Dr. Chase‘s Kidney Liver Pills than from any other me- dicine lever took, and can highly In cases of intestinal indigestion tha IiVer and kidneys usually become clog- ged and sluggish in action. and pois- pnous impurities are left in the blood, which should be removed by these [iltgring organs. It frequently happens that people who continually dose the stomach for indigestion and use pepsin and various kind! of digestive tablets Ind powders can obtain no relief from such treatment. because the real trouble is in the intestines, the liver and the kidneys. There is fullnes’s and pains after meals, coated tongue, headache, loss at appetite, pains in the limbs and m the back and shouldex‘s, flatulency ind constipation. frequently alter~ mating with diarrhoea. By fur the most important part of digestion takes place in the intestines. as has been repeatedly shown in cases where the stomach has been removed Ind the patient has lived and digest- ed food without the aid of the stomach. "I must go and find Rex or Mr. Hux‘lhurst," she cried, grasping her crutch, and limping hurriedly out of the room. The door leading to Basil Hurl- hurst's‘ apartment stood openâ€" the master of \Vvhitestone Hall sat in his easyâ€"chair, in morning-gown and slippers, deeply immersed in the col- umns of his accountâ€"books. Birdie was not like other children. She saw a pitcher oi iceâ€"water on an adjacent table, “which she immediateâ€" ly proceeded to sprinkle on the still, white, wrinkled face; but all her of- forts failed to bring the fleeting breadth back to the cold, pallid lips. At last the child became fairly frightened. “0h. Mr. Hurlhurst," crricd Birdie, her little, white scared face peering A Gammon Farm of Indigestion Which cannot be cured by ordinary stomach medicinesâ€"The kidneys, liver and bowels be- come derangedâ€"Dr. Chase-s Kidney-Liver Pills. A low, despairing sob answered her, as Mrs. Corliss arose from. her seat, took a step or two forward, and fell headlong to the floor in a deep and death-like swoon. Almost any other child would have been terrified. and alarmed the house- hold. "My Godâ€"l" she cried, hoarsely, "afâ€" ter nearly seventeen years? the sin of my silence is about to find me out at last." "\Vhat is the miltter, Mrs. Corliss? Are you ill?" cried the startled child. Birdie never (1115th her sentence. A terrible cry brain: from. the house- keepgr’s lips: “'My dreams haunt me night and day,‘ he cried. ‘1‘0 grill this wild, fierce throbbing of my heart I must have that grave opened, and gaze once more upon all that remains of my lOVed and longâ€"lost bride, Sweet Evnlia and her little child.’ He was The child did hot notice thé terri- ble. agony on the old housekeepers face; or that no answer was Vouchsafâ€" ed her. "He talks to me a great deal about' her," continued Birdie, "and he weeps suoh bitter tears, and has suchl strange dreams' about her; \Vhy. only last night he dreamed a. beautiâ€"l ful, golden-haired young girl came to’ him, holding out her arms, and crying softly: ‘Look at me, father; I am your , child. I was never laid to rest be-l neat'h the violets, in my young moth- er’s tomb Father, I am in sore dis- tresslâ€"come to me, father, or I shall, flie !' Of course it was only a dream,l but it makes poor Mir. Hurlhurst cry, so; 31nd >what do you think he said?” I A low, gasping cry bvrokc from Mrs. Oorliss's lips, and her face grew ash- em \vhsite. She tried to speak, but t‘hgeflworg; died away in her throat. “Do I look anything like the little child that died?” questioned Birdie. "Bless your dear little heart." said Mrs. Corliss, softly stroking the lit- tle girl's curls; "it is seldom poor masâ€" ter takes to any one aa‘ he has to you.” “He likes to talk to me," pursued the child, roll'Lng the empty spools to and fro with her crutch, "for he pities me because I am lame.” CHAPTER XXIX.â€"â€"Continued. "He is thinking of Plums/S moth- -r.-'1,"' thought Mrs. Corlissâ€"but she made no answer. SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPâ€" Heiress and Wife. l Every care and attention was shown “19 her; but it was long hours before Mrs. .e. Corliss showed signs of returning con- {fl-g, ; sciousness, and with her first breath lSh_|:~1hr3 begged that Basil Hurlhurst butjmight be sanft for at once. 0a,"! He could not. understand why she ’out‘shirunk from him, refusing his prof~ mm ‘ fered hand. There has yet to be a remedy dis- covered that is so prompt and thorâ€" ourgh in buring intestinal indigestion as Dr. Chase‘s Kidney-Liver Pills. And as this is the most common and sev- ere form of indigestion, it can well 'be claimed that Dr. Chase’s Kidney-Liver Pills are the most successful treat~ ment extant for indigestion and dys- pepsia. It is not unusual for persons who have I been suffering from chron- ic indig stion, biliousness and con- stipation to be thoroughly cured by Dr. Chase's Kidneyâ€"Liver Pills .which h’ove by far the largest sale of any similar remedy. You may be skep- tical, as others have been before you, but a single trial of Dr. Chase's Kid- nay-Liver Pills will convince you of their unusual medicinal value. One pill a dose, 25 cents a box, at all dealers, or Edmanson, Bates G; 00., Toronto. I "I shall never rest again until I :mke atonement for my sin," sxhe icried, feebly. "0111, master, you have ever been good and kind to me, but I have sinned against you beyond all I pardon. \Vh/en you hear w at I have to say you will curs‘e me. Oh, how can I tell it! Yet I can not sleep in my gram with this burden on my recommend them for stomach trou- bles. I was in a. terrible state and could hardly work at my track}. I tried most every kind] of medicine and doc- tors, until I was tired of doctoring, and before I used one box of Dr. Chase’s Kidneyâ€"Liver Pills, I could See that they M'ere helpEm-g me, and af- ter taking a box and a half, found that I was cured." "Surely {her ravi-ngs' were taking a strange freak,” be thought to him- self; "yet he wnuld be patient with "Yes," she replied, in a voice so hoarse and changed he could scarcely recognize it was her who hrad spok- en; “when I tell you all, promise me you will not curse me; for I have gin- ned against you so bitterly that you will cry out to Heaven asking willy I did not die long years ago, that the terrible secret I have kept so long might have been wrung from my lips." “You do not know what you say. You do not understand," she mut- tered, fixing her fast-dimming eyes strangely upon him. "Do not give yourself any uneasi- ness‘ upon that score, Mrs. Corliss," 1he said, gently; "try to think of Some- thing else. 13* there anything you would like me to have dome for you?" For :1 inomcmt she looked at him in- credulously. “I can promise you my full pardon, Mrs. Corliss," he said, soothingly; "no matter on what grounds the griev- ance may be.” He certainly thought she was de- lirious this poor, patient, toil-worn soul, speaking so incoherently of sin; she, s’o tender-heartedâ€"she could not even have hurt a sparrow. sohl.’ He saw she was making a violent effort to cocntrol her emotions. “Do not speak,” the said, gently; "it disâ€" tresses you. You need perfect rest and quiet.” “Yes,” he maid, sympathetically, “‘ â€"â€"'I-â€"am afraid it is." “Now, Mrs. Corliss," he said, kindly drawing his chair up close by the bed- side, "what is” it? You can speak out without reserve; we are all alocne." “Is it true that I can not live ’1" she asked, eagerly scanning his face. "Tell me truthfuhy, master, is‘ the wound a fatal one 2” "Tell them all to leave the room," she whispered. "No one must know whnt I have to say to you." \Votndering a little what she had to say to him], he humored her wishes, sending them all from the room. "I regret this sad affair more than I can find words to express,” said Basil Hurlhurst, gravely. "Mrs. Cor- lisa's whole life almost has been spent at \Vhitestone Hal]. You tell me, doctor. there is no hope. I can scarce- ly realize it.” "The wound is of tfie most seri- ous mature," he said. "She can not pos§ib1y recover." Quickly summoning the servants. they raised her from the floor. It was something more than a mere fainting fit. ’1‘th poor old lady had fallen face downward on the floor, and upon the sharp point of the scisâ€" sors she had been using, whlch had entered her body in close proximity to her heart. The wound. was cer- tainly a dangerous one. The sur- geon, who was quickly summoned, shook his head dubiously. Basil Hurlhurs't hurriedly arose and followed the now thoroughly fright- ened child quickly to the room where the old housekeeper lay, her hands pressed close to her heart. the look of frozen horror deepening on her face. in at the door, “won't you please come quick? Mrs. Corliss, the housekeep- er, has tainted ever s‘o long ago, and I can't bring her to I" "As they carried you to their room master, I thought I saw a woman’s form gliding stealtth on before, through the dark corridors. A blaze of lightning illumined the hall for one brief instant, and I can swear I saw a woman's faceâ€"a white, mocking, gloriously beautiful face â€"strangely like 111: face of your first wife, mas;- “You remember the terrible storm, master, how the trees; moaned, and without against the western wingâ€" where your beautiful young wife lay dead, with the pretty, smiling, blueâ€" eyed babe upon her breast?" “Yes, yesâ€"go onâ€"you are driving me mad 1" he groaned. "You remember how you fell down senseless by .her bedside when we told you the terrible newsâ€"the young childâ€"wife was dead?" She knew, by the quivering of his form, he heard her. "G07 onâ€"go on!" he cried. h02;r501y, burying his" face in the bedâ€"clothes,- "tell, me of my child!" He saw she was right. His head seemed on fire, and hisi heart seemed bursting with thencute intensity of his great excitement. H6 must listen wlhile she had strength to tell him of his‘ child. "I feared such anger as‘ this; that is why I dared .not tell you,” she whispered, faintly. "I appeal to your respect for me in: the past to 'hear me, to your promise of forgive- ness to shield me, to your love for the little child to listen calmly while I have strength to speak." "And yet you know that somewhere in this cruel world my little child was livingâ€"my tender, little fair- hlaired child~while I, her father, was wearing my life out with the grief of that terrible double loss‘. Oh, wo- man, woman, may God forgive you, for Inever can, if your words be true." my wife and child had both died on that neverâ€"to-be-forgotten night, and were buried in one grave. How could you dare steep your lip; with a lie so foul and black? Heavenecould have struck you dead while the false words were yet warm on your lips!" “I dared not tell you, master,” moaned the feeble voice, "lest the shock would kill you; then, after you recovered, I grew afraid of the secret I had dared to keep, and dared not tell you.” "I can not understand how Heaven could let your lips remain silenced all these long, agonizing years, if your story be true. \Vhy, yourself told me For a few- moments Basil Hurlhurst strode up and down the room. like a man bereft of reason. “You will not curse me," wailed the tremulous voice from the bed; “I have your promise.” "I do not know, mister," She moanâ€" ed. ' "You knew my child, for whom I grieved for seventeen long years, was stolenâ€"not deadâ€"and dared to keep the knowledge from me?" he CS-iEd, passionately, beside himself with rage, agany and fear. "Tell me quickly. then, where I shall find. my child 1" he cried, breathlessly. mad!" he shrieked. "It is true, master," she moaned, "true as Heaven." say, woman! My little childâ€"Eva- lba’s child and mineâ€"not dead. but stolen on the night its: mother died! My God! it can not be; surely you are mad!" he shrieked. "My God!” cried Basil Hurlhurst, starting to his feet, pale as death, his eyes fairly burning, and the veins standing out on his forehead like cords. "you do not know what you on his noble, care-Worn face; “this is the secret I have carried in this hos- om for nearly seventeen years; 'Your golden-haired young wife died on that terrible stormy night you brought her to thitcstone Hall;' but listen, Basil, ‘t'he child did not!’ It was stolen from our midst on the night the fair young mother died." She fried to raise herS‘clf on her e1â€" bonvs, but her strength fiailed her, and she sunk back exhausted on the pil- Io'w. "Listen, Basil Hurlhurst," she said, fixipg hey_strangely bright eyes up- "Ydu héve indeell‘l,” he responded, greatly puzzled as to what she could po§§ib1y mean. "It would have been better if Ihad let you die then, rather than live to inflict the blow which my words will give you. Oh, master l" she imâ€" plored, "I did not know then what I did was a sin. I feared to tell you lost the shock might cost you your life. As time wore on, I grew so deadly frightened I dared not un- do the mischief my silence had wrought. Remember, master, when you looked upon me in your bvitterest, fiercest moments) of agony, what I did was for your sake; to save your bleeding heart one more pang. I have been a good and faithful woman all my life, faithful to your interests." She saw his care-worn face grow white, and the lines of pain deepen around his mouth. "That is the most painful of all subjects to me,” he said, slowly. "You know how I have suffered since that terrible night." he said, shuddering‘Y- 'The double loss of my sweet young wife and her little babe has nearly driven me mad. I am a changed man. the weight of the cross I have had to bear has crushed me. I live on. but my heart is buried in the grave of my sweet. golden-haired Evalia and her little child. I repeat, it is a painful subject, still I will listen to what you have to say. I believe I owe my life to your careful nursing, when I was stricken with the brain fever that awful time.” "Master," She said, .clasping her hands nervously together. “would it pain you to speak of the sweet. gold- en-haired young girl-bride who died on that terrible stormy night nearly seventeen years ago 2" The quiet, gentle cxpriession aid not leave his face, and she took courâ€" age. he: and humor be; strange fancy. CH AFTER XXX. It Was Surely "Courting." ; r" - “Was it a real courtship?” “ng' “if? “DCCidedly so. The threat of court my, they ' C proceedings was what finally landed . ter a Whlle‘ him.”â€"Chicago Post. Easily Explained. Wistonâ€"So Hiller is married again. I can remember when he was courting his first wife. He really believed there never was another woman like her. Turnerâ€"And after he was married to her he was sure of it. That may account for his making a second venture-Bos- ton Transcript. you?"â€"Chicago Record. Apprehenslve. “Father, a few thousand dollars will start we in business.” “Yes, but how do I know that I won’t have to pgy out’all Ijm worth to stop “That popular song is being sung to death.” “I should say so. Nearly every place you go you hear somebody murdering it.” -â€"Philadelphia Bulletin. Evolution Again. “Advertisin is one er de fus’ laws of nature.” said Uncle Eben. “A hen's busi- ness is layin aigs, an ev’y time she com- pletes a transaction she stabts right in to cackle."-â€"~\Vashington Star. “Well, you qubte more poetry than he does. but I think he beats you on neck- tios.”â€"Chicago Record. The Corn Fed Philosopher. “A woman is not so much interested in knowing where her husband is of nights as in knowing where he isn’t,” said the corn fed philosopher by way of closing the discussionâ€"Indianapolis Press. young man, Dolly '1" "I tell you you must make it!" cried Basil Hurlhurst. "Go- and do as I bid you at once! Don’t stand there staring at me; you are losing golden moments. Fly at once, I tell you!" “You couldn’t possibly make the next train. sir; it leaveg in a few moments." He dld not hear the man’s ejacuEa- tion of surprisje as his eyes fell on the face of the master who stood be- fore him. with his hair white ag snow â€"so utterly changed in, one short hour. “I can never sleep again until I have some clew to my child I" he cried. frantically wringing his hands‘. Hastin he touched the bell-rope. "Mason." the said to the servant who answered tbs summons, "pack my valise at omce. I am going to take the first train to Baltimore. Yvu have no time to lose." He did not send for Plum to di- vulge wonderful discovery he had made. There was little sympathy 01- confidence between the father and (Daughter. He saw; Plum‘a. ahd Rex greeting some new arrivals” out on the flower- bordered terrace. but 1110 did not stop until he had reached his own apart- ments. In the corridor he pasSr-d groups of maidens, but he neither s'aw nor heard them. He was thinking of the child that had been stolen from him in her infancyâ€"the swoet little babe with the large blue eyes and shining rings of golden hair. He scarcely dared hope 1'th should yet find herâ€"where or how should find her, if ever. "Have you not some clew to give: me?" he cried out in agonyâ€""s_ome‘ way by which I can trace her and! learn her fate 2” She shook her head. “This ii unbearable 1" he cried.i pacing up and down the room like one ! who had received an unexpected! death-blow. "I am bewildered ! ' Merciful Heaven! which way shall I turn? This accounts for my restless- ‘ ness‘ all these years, when Ith-oughti of my childâ€"my restless longing and fanciful dreams! I thought her: quietly sleeping on Emlia’a breast. God only knows what my tender lit- tle darling has suffered. or in what part of the world she lives; or if she- lives at all 1" | Ir ha (1 been just one hour since Basil Hurlhursvt had entered that room, a placid-faced, gray-haired man. \Vben he left it his hair was as white as‘ snow from the terrible ordeal through which he. had just passed. 7.. V.-_o_. ._r on him. such wretched folly in his; youth! Basil Hurlhurst was not a superâ€" stitious mun, yet he felt a strange, unaccountable dread stealing over 'him at the bare mention of such a thing. It was more than he could endure to hear the name of the wife he. had loved, and the wife who slept beneath the wild aâ€"waves‘, coupled in one bnoathgthe air young wife he had idolized, and the dark, sparkling face of the wife who had brought up- ter, Pluum's mother. I knew it could -not be her, for she was lying beneath the seaâ€"waves". It was not a good omen, and I felt sorely afraid and greatly troubled. \Vvhen I returned to the room from which they had car- ried youâ€"there lay your fair young wife with a smile on her lipsâ€"but the tiny babe that had slumbcred on her breast was gone." "Oh, God! if you had only told me this years; ago.” cried the unhappy Luther. "Have you any idea who could have taken the child? It could not have. men for gain, or I should have heard of it long ago. I did not know I had an enemy in the wide world. You say you saw a woman's face?" he. asked, thoughtfully. "It was, the ghost of your first wife.” asserted the old housekeeper, astutcly. "I never saw her face but Olnce; but there was something about it one could not easily forget." Manifestations of Gray Matter. Wholesale Slaughter. as_irr71terlligent as your other To Be ('onllnued. The Coquetteâ€"Bother the love! I amt-am the ring. love gov, out to you. Th1 Coquetteâ€"But how do I know it is genuine? The Suitorâ€"My love is a: genuine as the blush 011 your cheek. Johmny. to please his'sistor during the holidays, was reading out from the morning paper an account of a grand wedding. At the appointed hour, he read, the clergyman took his stand at the chancel-rails, and to the music of the ‘Wedding March' the contra~ dieting parties moved down theâ€"- Not "contradicting," Johnny, inter- rupted his elder sister. “Contract- ing.” chll, stoutly contended John- ny, they’ll be bontradicting parties afâ€" Artistâ€"What n fine world this would berif there wasn't any money! Ru'al Headâ€"It’s aham‘u-ug, John, It can't be taught in six lessons. I’ve bean trying to feach’ it to you for 16 years, and haven't succeeded yet. COULDN'T BE DONE. Ostelnsib-l: Head of the Family.---- Maria, there was abook agrnt around to-(bay who wanted to sell me a work on etiquette and good behavior. Touches it in six IeS'sons. I told him’ I‘d ask you if you thought we wanted it. It is a waste of money to experi. ment with other soâ€"called tonics which are all cheap imitations of Dr. \Villiams’ Pink Pills. Insist upon getting the genuine. and if they are not sold by your dealer send direct to the Dr. \Villiams' Medicine (30., Brock- ville, Ont., and the pills will be mailed post paid, at 500 a box, or six boxes for $2.50. no appetite and could hardly stand on my feet, I was very much discour- aged and thought death was staring me in the face. I had often read of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills and finally, decided to try them. After I had used three boxes my appetite was much‘ better, and I felt a. little stronger. I continued the use of the pills for three months when I felt fully cured. When I began using the pills I only weigh- ed 92 pounds, and [when I discontinued them my weight had increased to 119 pounds. I also gave the pills to my. baby, who was pale and sickly, and they made Lhim a. bright, rosy, fleshy child. I think there is no weak or sickly person who will not find bene- fit from Dr. \Villiams,’ Pink Pills." in throwing off the poison that has accumulated in the system, else peo- ple fall an easy prey to disease and are Subject to many discomforis from boils. eruptions, and similar troubles”. Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale Peo- ple are the best tonic medicine known to medical Science. These pills make rich, red blood and strong nerves. Through their use in springtime, jaded. listless, easily tired men, two- men and children, are made bright, ae- tive and strong. Evidence of the won- derful health restoring virtue of these pills is given by Mrs. J. Lang- lois, 659 Lafontain street, Montreal, who says :â€"”Before Ibegan using Dr. VViIliams’ Pink Pills I was funder the care of two doctors, who told me my trouble was developing into consump- tion. I was very pale and feeble; had llrsceudetl from our Wine Fol-crating". nntl "as Good .‘le-llrnl Endorsementâ€"A l-‘cw Suggeslloui Regarding Heallh. The practice of taking a tonic dur- ing the inclement weather of earlyl spring is one that has been bequeath- ed us by our forefathers, who lived in days when a sturdy constitution and vigorous health meant even more than they do toâ€"day. The custom has the highest medical endorsement, and the healthiest people are those who fol- low it. Thousands, not really ill, need a tonic at this season. Close confinement in badly ventilated houses, offices, shops and school rooms during the winter months, makes people feel depressed and "out- ofâ€"sorts." Nature must be assisted The Suitorâ€"Here, on my 1mm, 1 me. this ring»: upon your finger My Tlle I'rncllcc ofTaklng n Tonto In S lit-scuttled from (bar Wine I-‘ore nml llafi (:oml ile-llrnl Eudora" l-‘cw Suggesllaui erardlnz HM- IS YOUR SYSTEM IN SHAPE 'r'o CARRY You SAFELY THROUGH? SPRING WEATHER. THE REAL THING. He Never Saw Any. Sprlnz I.