The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

CHAPTER XVIIIâ€"(Continued). "You are lords of the soil. people 0' lm' parlance and rank here. while we arev well, just, ordinary folk. I can'tlulte “‘1‘ derstand your father objecting. . . She put her hand up to his lips to st- lenco the lover's extravagant flattery. , "It is not thatâ€"the difference-flvliic'h is all to your advantage." she said. ‘llly father may think of it.“ she went on With innocent. candor. “But it would be the same if you were of the highest'rauk. He does not. want me to leave him. “And if he were less anxious to keep you he would not give you to me. who am. .in his opinion. and rightly. so much your in- ferior." said Stafford. “But I ought to go to him. dearest. I ought to go to-mor- row." She trembled a little as she nestled against him. “And-«andâ€"your father. Sir Stephen Orme?" she said. "What will he say?" Stafford laughed slowly and confidently. “Oh. my father? He will be delighted. He's the best of fathers. a perfect model for parents. Ever since I can remember he has been good to me. a precious sight better. more liberal and generous. than I-descrved; but lately. since I've known himâ€" Ah. well. I can only say. dearest. that he will be delighted to hear that I have chosen a. wife; and when he sees youâ€"" He stopped and held her at arm 6 length for a. moment and looked down into the lovely face upturned to his wit it sweet. girlish gravity. "W'hy. he will fa l in love with you right out of hand! I think you will like my father. Ida. Heâ€" well. he's a. taking sort of fellow; every- body likes him who knows himâ€"really knows himâ€"and speaks well of him. Yes. I'm proud of him; and I feel as safe as if he were here to say. in his hearty. earnest way: ‘I wish you 200d luck. Stafford! And may God bless you. my dear!‘ " He flushed and laughed as if a little {ashamed of his emotional way of putting t. "He‘s full ofâ€"-of the milk of human kind- ness. is my father." he said. with a. touch of simplicity which was one of the thous- and and fifteen reasons why Ida loved im. She gazed up at him thoughtfully and sighed. ' V“I hope he will like me." she said. all the pride which usually characterized her melted by her love. "I am sure that I shall like'himâ€"for loving you." “You will see." said Stafford. confident- ly. "He will be as proud as a duke about you. You won't mind if he shows it a. l‘t- tie plainly and makes a little fuss,- Ida? He'sâ€"well. he's used to making the most of a good thing when he has it~â€"i.t's the life he has led which has rather got him into the way of blowing a trumpet. you knowâ€"and he'll want a whole orchestra to announce you. But- about your father. dearest? Shall I come to-morrow and ask for his consent?" . She looked up at him with doubt and a faint trouble in her beautiful eyes, and he heard her sigh regretfully. “I am afraid." she said. in a law voice. ",Afraid?’ He looked at~ her with a smile of surprise "If anyone were to tell me that it was possible for you to be afraid. I shouldn‘t believe them." he said. “Fear and you haven‘t made acquaint- ance yet. Ida!" She shook ‘her head. , “I am so happy. so intensely happy. that I am afraid lest the gods should be jealous and snatch my happiness from me. I am afraid that if you come tomorrow. my father will say ‘No,’ willâ€"â€"" â€"“Will have me shown out." said Staf- ford. gravely. "I see. I should be sut- prised." “And-and then I should not be able to see you again." He laughed at the idea. “My dearest. it all the fat-hers in the world said ‘No.’ it wouldn’t make any dif- ference to me." he said. with that. air of masterfulness. that flash of the eye which a. woman loves in a man. ,"Do you think I should give you up. that I should be con- tent to say. ‘I'm very sorry. sir.’ and go offâ€"leave youâ€"keep away from you!" He laughed again. and she nestled a. little closer: and her smallAhand closed a little more tightly on his arm. "And you wouldn‘t- give me up. refuse to see. me even if your father withheld his consent. would you. Ida?" he asked. "No; I could not. It. is just that. I could not. Somehow I feel as if I had given you the right to myself and that nothing could alter it. nothing could take me away from you!" How was it possible for him to refrain from lifting her in his arms and kissing the sweet. soft lips which made such a confession? 'Tliey walked on for a min- ute or two 111 silence. when she went on. as if she had been still considering the matter: “No. you must not come. Stafford. My [other is not strong. and-andâ€"ah! well. you know. you saw him that other night -vt.be first night we metâ€"do you remem- ber? And he was walking in his sleep again the other evening. If you were to comeâ€"if I were to tell him thatâ€"that you n f , had asked me to be your wife. he might] fly into a passion; it might do him harm. Some time ago. when he was ill. the doc- tor told me that he must. be kept quiet. and that nothing must be allowed to exâ€" cite or irritate him. He is very old and leads so secluded a lifeâ€"lie sees no one now but myself. Oh. how I would like you to come; how good it would be ifâ€"if he would give me to you as other fathers give their dangliteis! But I dare isk it! I cannot! Siafl‘ord"â€"slie put her I “39- :inds on his breast and looked up at him -";iin I \vruug to tell you all thisâ€"to let you see how much I love you? Is itâ€"un- maidenly of me? Tell me if it and I will not do so for the future. my heart a little better than I am doing‘ at present. Ah. see. it is on my sleeve!" Ila tool»: her arm and kissed the sleeve (waned hi": hllivel‘luz where her heart was supposed to be. "I've read that men only love while they are not sure of a woman‘s love: that filth every two persons it is one who loves Ind the other who permits hiulself of he“ V ' 1 no: command his velf to be loved. Is that true. Siafi‘ord? If to. then it is I who loveâ€"alas! poor me!" He drew her to liiiu and looked into her “13 with a passionate intensity. “ t's not true." he said. almost. fiercely. ‘I-‘or goodness sake don't say such things. [‘heyâ€"vthey hurt. and illll‘i badly: ibev leave a bitter taste in the mouth. a nasty' pang behind. And if it were trueâ€"but it isn't. Ida! It is I who love. Ire. room; don't you know lllfll no 0" ‘. that fiver was born had such wbnder‘l‘ifi e‘ya’. such beautiful hair? Oh. my heart's love. don't you know how periwi you are?" They had stooped under some trees near the ruined chapel. and she leant against one of them and looked up at him with a strange. fzirâ€"awav look in her eyes which were dark as the purple amethyst. "1 never thought about it. Am Ifidn you think I am pretty? I am glad; yes. I am glad!" “Pretty!” He laughed. ‘Dearrst. I take vou away from here. into the world, u my wifeâ€"my wifeâ€"the thought sends nv blood (‘Ulll‘rlllZ through an: veins~you when ‘ _ Goad gra. Rois! don i Avon; know hqw beautiful you: Ilziveu t you a lookingglass in yoiii-i I l | l I i | not 1 ed her face. I i shall be wild with pride-h I shall ‘Wnlll to go culling aloud: ‘Shc is my wife; my very own! You may EldmlI‘Oâ€"‘\\'O!“»l’ll]) liei. but she is mineâ€"belongs in meâ€"to un- worthy Stafford Orniel' . . “Yes?” she murmured. her vows thril- ling. “You will be proud of me? Of me. the poor little country girl who rode about the dales in a shabby habit and an old hat? .tafford. Jessie was telling me that there is a. very beautiful girl staying at the villa zit Brae Woodâ€"dim of the Visiu ors. Jessie said she was lovely. and that all the men-servants. and the maids, too. were talking about her. She must. be more beautiful than I am.“ “Which of the women do you mean?" he said. indifferentlv. with the supreme ‘ill- difference which the mini who is madlym‘lln 0 love feels for every other woman than one of his heart. "She is a fair girl. with blue eyes and the most wonderful hair: ‘clicstnut-red with gold in it.‘ as Jessie described it to me. And she says that this girl wears the most beautiful diamondsâ€"I am still quot- ing Jessieâ€"and oiiier chEoiis_SIOIies. and that she is very ‘liigh and mighty. and more liaughtv than any of the other ' . Who is it?" laf‘llxeihillk she must mean Miss Falconer â€"Miss Maud:- Fa.‘coner." said Stafford. as iiidifi’erently as before. as he smoothed one of the silken tresses on her brow. and kiss: ed it as it lay on his finger.. “It lsnflllSt the way a slavev would describe her. "And she is very beautiful?” asked Ida. “Yes. I suppose she is." he. said._ "You suppose!" she echoed. arching her brows. but with a frank smile about her lips. the smile of contentment. at his in- difference. “Don't you know?. u ‘ "Well. yes. she is." he admitted. I‘ve scarcely noticed her. Oh. but yes. she 162 and she sings very well. Yes: I can un- derstand her making a sensation in the servants’ hallâ€"she makes one in the draw- ing-room. But she's . not my style of beauty. See here. dearest: it doesn i- sound nice. but though I've spent some hours with Miss Falconer and listened to her singing. I have only just noticed that she is good-looking. and that she has a wonderful voice: they say up at. the villa that there’s nothing like it on the stage -â€"excepting Patti‘s and Melbas; but all the time she has been there'I have had another face. another voice. in my mind. Ever since I saw you. down there by the river. I have had no eyes for any other woman‘s face. however beautiful. no ears for any other woman‘s v0ice. however sweet." She was silent a moment. as she clasped her hands and laid them against his cheek. I ' . “How strange it sounds! But if you had chanced-to see her firstâ€"perhaps you would not have fallen in love w1th_me? How could you have done so? She isso very lovelyâ€"I can see she is, by Jessms description.” He laughed. "Even if I had not seen you, there was no chance of my falling in love ‘with Miss Falconer. dearest," he said. smiling at her gravity and earnestness. “She is very beautiful. lovely in her way. if you like; but it is not my way. She is like a status at most times; at othens. just now and again. like aâ€"well. a sleek tigress 11] her movements and the way she turns her head. Oh. there wasn't the least danger of my falling in love with her. even If. I hadn’t seen the sweetest and loveliest girl in all the wide world." “And you will feel like that. feel so sure. so certain that you love. me. even though you have seen and Will see . so many women who are far more beautiful than I am?" she said. dreamily. _ “Sure and certain." he responded. With a long sigh. "If I were as sure of your love as I am of mine for youâ€" Forgive me. dearest!" for she had raised her eyes to his with an earnestness that was al- most solemn. I H “You may be sure." she said. slowly. I shall love you as long as I live. I know it! I do not know why. I onlyâ€"feel it. Perhaps we may be partedâ€"â€"" Be laugh edâ€"but his hand closed on hers. and grip- ped them tightly. â€"“But I shall always love you. Something has gone out of me â€"is it my hear~t?-rand I can never take it back from you. Perhaps you may grow tired of pieâ€"it, may be. I have read and heard of such things happening to wo- menâ€"you may see someone more beauti- ful than Miss Falconer. someone who will I lead you to forget the little girl who rOde through ills rain in Herondale. If so. there will be no need to tell me; no need to make excuses. or ask for forgiveness. There would be no need to tell me, for something here"â€"she drew her hand frOm him and touched her bosomâ€""would tell me. You would only have to keep away from me~thait is all. And leâ€"ah. well. I should be silent. (iui'e silent." “DearesU” he murmured, reproachfullY. and with something like awe, for her brows were knit. her face was pale as ivory. and her eyes glowed. "Why do you say this now. just asâ€"ze we have con- fessed our love for each other? Do you think I shall be faithless? I could al- most laugh! As if any man you deigned to love could ever forget you. ever care a straw for any other woman!" She turned to him with a shudder, little cry that was tragic in its intensity. turned to him and clenched her small hands on his breast. "Swear to me!" she p'nnted; then, as if ashamed of the passion that racked her. her eyes dropped and the swift red flood- “.\'01 you shall not swear to Stafiord. 1â€"1 will believe you love as I shall love you for cver and over! me ct. me when Bu: ifâ€"if the time should 'some other girl shall win you from me. I will hide I YOU will 1' i i i l i l I promise me that you will not tell me, that ust keep away from.me! bear it ifâ€"if I did no: see you; but if 1 w yoi Aâ€" Oh!" something like ii moan " and she flung i5, herself upon his breast I could i l A Foolish Yeiiiig liar; * Or. the Belle of the Season. \______________,________J in the dale. noticed the change in her. noticed the touch of color that was so quick lO‘IllOUllb to the ivory check. the novel brightness and tenderness in the den) grey eyes. the new note. the low. the subtle change. but he was like a mole burrowing :iinongst his books and gloat-ing secretly over the box which be concealed ‘ut tho approach of footsteps. the opening of :1 door. and the sound of a voice in a distant part of the house. But though the servants remarked the 'cliaiigo in their beloved mistress. they did not. guem at its cause; for. by chance I‘ll- ther than design. none of them had seen Ida and Stafford together. And yet they met daily. Sometimes Stafford would ride over from Brae Wood and meet. her by the river. There was a hollow there. so deep that. it hid not only themselves but the horses. and here they would sit. hand in hand. or more often with his arm round her and her small. shapely head with its soft. but roughened hair. upon his breast. Sometimes he would row across the lake and they would walk side by side along the bank. and screened by the trees in which the linnet and the thrush sang the songs which make a lover‘s lit- any: at othersâ€"and these were the sweet- C-st meetings of all. for they came in the soft and stilly night when all nature was hushed as if under the spell of the one great passionâ€"he would ride or walk over after dinner, and they would sit in thc ruined archway of the old chapel and talk of their blank past. the magic pre- sent. and the future which Wile to hold nothing but happiness. Love grows fast under such conditions. and the love of these two mortals grew to gigantic proportions. absorbing the lives of both of them. To Stafford. all the hours that were not. spent with this girl of his heart were so much dreary waste. To Idaâ€"ah. well, who shall measure the intensity of a girl's first passion? She only lived in the expectation of seeing him. in his presence and the whispered words and caresses of his love; and. in his absence. in the memory of them. For her life meant just this man who had come and taken the heart from her bo- som and enthroned his own in its place. They told each other everything. Staf- ford knew the whole of her life before they met. all the little details of the daily routine of the Hall. and her management of the farm: and she learnt- from him all that was going on at the great. splendid palace in his modesty Sir Stephen Orme had called the Villa. She liked to nestle against him and hear the small details of his life. as he liked to hear hers; and she Seemed to know all the visitors at the Villa and their peculiarities, as well as if she were personally acquainted with them. “You ought not to leave them so much. Stafford." she said. with mock re'proof. as they sat one afternoon in the hollow by the river. “Don‘t you think they no- tice your absence and wonder where you are?” "Shouldn‘t think so." he replied. “Be- sides. I don't care if they do. All my worry is that I can't come to you oftener. Every time I leave you I count up the hours that must pass before I see you again. But I expect most. if not all. of the visitors will be off presently. Most of ‘em have been there the regulation fortnight: a good many come backwards and forwards; they‘re the City men. the money men. My father is closeted with them for hours every dayâ€"that big scheme of his seems to be coming off sat- isfactorily. It‘s a railway to some place in Africa. and all these fellowsâ€"the Grif- fenbergs. and Beltons. that fat German baron. Wirsch. and the rest of them. are in it. Heaven knows why my father wants to worry about it. I heard one of them say that he calculated to make a million and a half out of it. As if he weren't rich enough!” » "A million and a half." she said. "What a. large sum it seems. What one could do with a half, a quarter. a tenth of it!" “What would you do. dearest ?” he asked. She laughed softly. “I think that I would first. buy you a Drcsent. And then I'd have the Hall re- painted. No, I'd get the terrace rails and the portico mended; and yet. perhaps. it would be better to have the inside of the house painted and papa-ind, You see. there are so many things I could do with it. that it's difficult to choose.” “You shall do ’em all." he said. putting his arm round her. “See here, Ida, I've been thinking about ourselves »" “Do you ever think of anything else? don't.” she said. half unconsciously. â€""Aud I've made up my mind to take the bull by the hornsâ€"" “Is that meant for my father or yours?" “Both.” he replied. "We've been so hap~ by this last fortnightris it a fortnight ago since I got you to tell me that you cared for me? It seems a year sometimes. and at others it only seems a minute!â€" that we haven't cared to think of how we stand: but it can't be like this for ever. Ida. You see. I want youâ€"I want you all to myself. for every hour of the day . and night instead of for just the few minutes I've the good luck to snatch. Directly this affair of my governor‘s is finished I shall go to him and tell him I'm the happiest. the luckiest man in the world; I shall tell him everythingâ€"exactly how we I l l i l l l r niih the abandon. I stand~and ask him to help us with your father.” Ida sighed and looked grave. (To 'be con tinned.) . * FOZZit‘d. John. Henry was keeping com- pany With Myrtle Marie, and when the fat-her of the latter returned il ifl‘Om the oflics one evening he was tiinidly approached by his pretty (laughter. “Papafi said the fair one, “did John Henry call on you this mornâ€" ing 2"” “Yes.” answered the paternal one "but I couldn't make out much of what he said." "Couldn't make out what he said I" returned Myrtle Marie, won- deringly. "What do you mean 3" ‘.‘As near as 1 could understand." 7 ROCKEFELLER'S G LVEROSI'I‘I'. sweet tone of happincss in the clear voice. - Her father only remained unobservani of ' explained papa. "he said he wanted to marry me; that you had enough ymoney to support- liim. and that we iliad always loved each other. so 1 Hold him to go home and write it ‘out in plain English.” the unscif-consciousncss of a child. ; Stafford was moved to his illlll'Irei heart. ;‘ and for a moment. as he held her within ; tlio embrace of his strong arms. he could veice sumcieiitly for speech. At last he murmured. his l:p5 seeking hers: . I “Ida! I swear we: I w.ll love you for ever and ever!" ‘Buivbul~if you break your vow. volu promise that you will not come tn 7 .e l _ , .9. , me? I shall know. Promise. uh. promise!" Ba”) 3 Roi”)- "li'ill nothing less content you? Must h . v V . . , 1?" he said. almost desperate other pen. “ in do 3'0“ IDSlSt upon havng {stories “Then I promise, Ida! ;t}]e blggest Share of the INK]de {Harry i" asked the mother of 3 CHAPTER XIX. “small boy. "Isn't your elder bro- There is something solemn and awe-iii~ ‘ [her entitled to it i" “)0. he isn't," mm” m “effect hawmem' Ida , replied the little fellow. "He was How many times in the day did , pull up Rupert andgaze into the distance i eating pudding two years before I with vacant. unsecuig eyes, pause in the ; “.aq bum “ middle of some common task. look up‘ l x l t from the book she was trying to read. to ask hers-elf whczher she was indeed the same girl who had livw he: lonely life at Herondale. or whether she had changed places with some other personality. with Some girl singulni‘lv blessed amongst won men. Jessie and Jason. even the bovine Wll. “'iiliont Assistance. Teacherâ€"Did anyone help with this map Sam? yo u will create s-i great a sensation that I ham, who was reputed the stupid“). “m. all by himself. 1 'Bcgan “lion Young and Has licpt It ['9 Ever Since. It is very difficult to collect anec- ;dotal matter relating to John D. iliockcfeiier. the oil king. His near relatives know his dislike for appearing in print, and his houseâ€" .hold is leak-proof. But there are many stories which show the oil magnate in a generous light. The Standard Oil Company of Ohio, the parent company, has no i i . i pension fund, but maintains a .gratuity system. which means 'about the same thing. with the ex- ;ception that no obligation is asâ€" sumed by the company as a per- ,manency. When this plan was fii‘sti put in operation it was discovered that a number of old employes were not eligible for the gratuity fund. because they had already severch their connection with the concern for old age or disability. The fact coming to Joll’ll D. Rockefeller's no< tice, he gave instructions to have every such case investigated and, reported upon, with a suitable reel commendation as to the requireâ€" ments in each worthy case. James! Cole, superintendent of No. *1 works, was the official investigator and made the recommendations. Upon receipt of the reports, John D. gave instructions to have all these people placed upon his per-, sonal payroll, their pensions to bel paid by Mr. ‘Cole personally and without notice to anyone. That system is still maintained. Even now some men are discovered who years ago worked for Mr. Rockefel- ler, and after some service sought other employment. Whenever a. deserving case is found the man is pensigied, even though he has not been in John D.’s employ for a quarter century. Shortly afterKJohn D. Rocl‘rfelâ€" 191' had moved 'away from Cleve- A new portrait of Mr. John D. Rockefeller. ‘land, about thirty years ago, New york observed lier tercentenai'y, 'and all the Ohio National Guard was sent east to participate in the biggest parade New York had up to [that occasion ever seen. Govei‘nor’ Foraker was anxious to show offi ‘thc regiment of field artillery in the Ohio section. and ordered the 'mai‘ch up Fifth Avenue to include ,a gallop. battery front, uninindfull of the fact that the. equipment ,dated back to ’65. In COnscquence half the junk went to the scrap lieap. not. however, without seri- ous damage to the men. One broke his arm, another his hip as one wheel went. out from under him. ,One was killed. Acts of Kindness. One of the officers was taken to ,St. Luke's Hospital. then on West- 1Flfty-tilll‘d Street. New York. Shortly afterward a neighbor sent to inquire into the details of the accident. and when he heard that an Ohio man had been hurt he asked permission to send the pa- tients food to him from his own ihome, During the six weeks the j man lay in a cast all his meals were ‘prepared in the neighbors house. {And the neighbor was John D. Rockefeller. A few years ago Mr. Rockefeller v I in one of the big office buildings, , that it is hard when dry. 'holding soils. ,black gumbo roads in the west are . maintained by the use of this imple- â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"_â€"â€"â€"â€"_â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"_â€"â€"_â€"â€"_ .4 waiting his turn with his dentist) whose office is in the same building! Absorbed in it newspaper, he seem~ ed to pay no attention to the dis<i cussion betwcen his temporaryI host and a. woman caller, the prin-i eipal of a. school. relating to a; teacher who was obliged to go to: New Mexico on account of failing health and for whom her fellow teachers had taken up a. modest col‘ lection to enable her to reach lien objective point in' the southwest. But his memory served him well. For next day one of his agents called on the sick teacher. handed her a cheque for a. substantial sum. and told her that the same amount would be sent to her regik Iarly each month while she was ill.’ For two years she continued to reu‘ ccive Mr. Rockefeller’s bounty, her stay enabling her to make a, pen, feet recovery. She is still a. teach4 er in the public schools. Early during the Civil War, be< fore the days of a Government bounty to encourage enlistment, iii became necessary that something should be done to assure the dos pendent families of recruits that they would not want during the ab-‘ sence of their husbands and sons.‘ To this end a committee was fOI‘DIh ed and went to see John D. at his works in River Street, and found him\ with his partner, M. B. Clark.‘ Mr.‘ Rockefeller received them kindly and told them that he was sorry he could not himself,‘ since his brother Frank had en- listed. But he was glad to help.‘ With a. long key he opened the safe: and produced a tidy sum of moneyfi “I want you to feel,” he said to:l the two recruits, “that your peo-‘ ple will not sufier while you are gone.” On the way uptown Tibbits turnJ, ed excitedly to Scofield. “Why,” he said, “that man is rich! He’ must be worth $10,000!” At that. time Mr. Rockefeller was barely 23 years old. â€"-â€"eX‘ BIRD S AND LIGHTHOUSES. Every night; during migration, thousands of birds attracted by the powerful glare of lighthouses, after- Circling for hours about the light,‘ fall exhausted, and die. It is said; that as many as 1,800 woodcock paid ished in one night at a single Elk) glish lighthouse. Prof. J. P. Thijsse, found that its, lighthouse is fitted, With proper perches near the light,,” the birds will rest upon them, and, few will lose their lives. The light-l house at Terschelling, in Holland; has. been thus equipped for the laist'il three years. At this lighthouse, which stands directly in a path of. migration, multitudes of birds form< erly died every night; now the deaths do not exceed a. hundred , throughout the season of migration; Perches have recently been fitted to two English lighthouses, The Case: kets, in the English Channel, and- St. Catherine’s, on the Isle of Wight; the latter of which is shown in the accompanying illustration from the, Sphere. The birds fly to the light- houses only on dark nights. is linking Split-Log Drag. The halves of the drag should be framed together by wooden braces so that_t'he split surfaces of the log shall be in front. The face of the: drag should lie at an angle of 45, degrees with the lines of the rdad, thus drawing the earth toward the, centre. The rear log should follow, in the track of the first. Drags should be used after rains, or con? tinued wet weather to smooth the earth‘s surface and prevent rutsi from forming to hold water. The drag not only smooths the road. but crowns it and puddles the mud so i These drags have been used with great- success on clay or water. Manv stretches of .ment alone. Every farmer should own one, .and after a rain he should spend a. few hours on the road adjacent to ibis farm. If there are many de- lpresuions to fill, the drag should be use-:1 when the road is wet. After it has been used long enough to make the road fairly smooth. the drag gives the best re- sults if need when the earth begins jto dry. L'Sclc Riding. Mrs. Walker: “I don‘t 500 why the doctors recuiiiiiiend bicycle rid< ing. If it makes people healthier ;it is a itSS to the doctors." 311-. Walker: "I know: but. they cab culate that one sound healthy rider iwill disable at least five pedestri- ans each week." i “Mother, what is an empty title 1" “Well, as empty title is my way 0' Sank ‘31., Silo My brother did it sat in the office of an acquaintanca, calling your father the head of th house.”