The Cedarville Herald, Volume 11, Numbers 22-52

t 1 i "D <‘P - # ^ . . . , , lag ip the four years o f your absenoe The Cedarville Herald, “ In Aquitainel fought for the 0*1 cons against the lion-hearted Richard of England. Thrice did 1 n ea t him W # . CLAlit, FublUhsr CEDARVILLE. : : : In OB 10. the Held—thrice did our lances shiver KEEP HOEING AND PRAYING. TaKb without work* 1*dead.”—Bible. BaldFarmer Jones, in a whining tone, VoMs good, old neighbor Oray: •I’ to won my knees thro' to the bone, But it ain't no use to pray: *Yourcom lopka twice as good as mine. Though yondon’t pretendto be A shinin' light in the ehurch.to shine, An’ tell salvation's free. •P t # prayed to the Lorda thousand times For tomake that'ere com grow; An’ whyyour’n beats it so and climbs Fdgin a deal to know.’* BaldFarmerGray to his' neighbor Jones, , la his easy, quietway: 1Whenprayersget mixedwith lazy bones, They don't make farmin’ pay.- ft) •Yourweeds, I notice, are goodan' tall, In spite of all your prayers: Yon may pray for corn till the heavens fall If yon don’t dig up the tares. *I n il mr prayers with a little toll, Along In every row; An’ I work this mixture into the soil Quito rig’rous with a hoe. “An" I’ve discovered, though still in sin, As sure as you are born, Thls-klnd of compost well workod In Makes prettvdccent corn. “ So, whiio l’mpraying I use my hoe. An' domy level best - To keep down the weeds along each row, ■ An' tho Lord Ho does the rest. . “It’s well for to pray, both night an’ morn. As every farmer knows; But the place to pray for thrifty com . la right botwoen the rows. ' An' so I believe, my good, old friend, If you mean to win tho day Fromplowing, clean to the harvest's end, You must hoe as well as pray." —Iowa State Register. THE BARON’S WRATH. Turning P o in t in th e F ortun es o f V ic to r d e Courcy. HE AGEDBaron de Courcy sat in his carved oak­ en chair; in bis groat ancestral hall at tho de­ cline o f day.. Though it was yet early au­ t u m n , a n d though the rays Of an unshad­ owed sun poured t h r o u g h the h i g h western windows of the 'vast apartment, a huge fire Was burning on the h e a r th s t o n e , near to which tho oid noble had established his soat. A cap o f crim­ son cloth and gold was on his head, and boneath this descended tho long, allvory looks that betokenod his extreme age. On the other side of tho lire, sat, sur­ rounded by her handmaidens, tho. Baroness do Courcy, a pale and sorrow- strlckon lady of apparently not half tho' age of tho baron. ‘ At last tho sound of a trumpet echoed through the hall. . . “ It is hoi it is Vlctort” exclaimed tho . Baroness, glanelpgat her husband. Victor de Courcy was twenty-two years old; a handsome and woll-bnllt figure, a bold and martial hearing, a frank and open countenance well be-' came the splendid armor he wore and the military profession he had adopted. “ Father,” ho Said, bowing before the old Baron, “yon sent for me, and I am here.” “ Y ot are tardy,” replied tho Baron, oddly. “ You knew the castle was menaced by enemies.” “ And 1 have reached it before them,” waa Victor’ s • reply. “ Mother,” •he added, rushing to the side of the Baro­ ness, “ you, at least, have a welcome for yourson!” The Baroness Ermlnla clasped him ih her arms and blessed him. Then, with a gesture of hpr hand, she dismissed her train, and Victor and his parents were left elone together. , “ Why did you not como hither soon­ er?” asked the Baron, sternly. “ Your presence might have held the knights of Vaimont in check,” “ Would it have prevented tny brother Eustace from bunting on their lands— from heating their vassals and driving off their cattle?” asked Victor, haugh­ tily. “ Whence got you these falsehoods of your brother?” asked the Baron, fiercely, “ From the complaints of the knights of Vaimont before the throne o f Philip Augustus,” “ Do ybu believe the charges of your /Enemies?” ‘ “ Before the King 1 said they lied. Before you, father, I confess that I be­ lieve them true.” “ Are you come . hither to sustain them?” ' “ I como hither to fight them. They shall not touch a stone o f the castle, white I remain between them and the ramparts,” ' “ It is well,” said the aged Baron- “ Hut tell me, what hast thou beta do- no of without either yielding a foot of ground.” “ And from Aquitaine whither went you?” continued the Baron. “ The next year I was with King Henry VII. before the walls of Rouen Twice did 1 scalp the walls with other help than my good sword.” “ And afterwards?" ' “ I fought againit Henry II., King England, in the Duchy of Berry.” “ And thonoe?” “ I went with Henry of the Ubort Mantle to Paris, where I took part in all the games>and tournaments.” “ And what happened to' you then?’ asked tho Baron, with a keen, inquiring look. “ Nothing worthy of reoital," said the young man, easting down, bis eyes. There was a silence for some mo­ ments and Eustace, the son of tho *You must use your bands while praying, though. ., • If ananswer you would get. Forprayerwhrn knees an' a rusty hoe " Never raised o big crop yot. A GLITTERING FIGURE ADVANCED. old noble by his first wife, entered. The wretched young man came before his father with am unstoady^op—his eyes were blood-shot' and his face was flushed with drinking—ho had fallen from his horse, and his garments wore covered with mud. A flush of anger colored tho pale cheeks of tho old' warrior, but he uttered ‘not a word of reproach against his favorite hut un­ worthy son. “ Ha!” exclaimed .Kustace. “ My brothor, here. I kno.w n o v ' i U, Lot mo clasp you to my heart, tor,'' But tho young man stood with folded arms. , “ Victor!" exclaimed tho Baron, stern­ ly, “ embrace thy brother!'’ Victor obeyed; but, the ceremony ended, ho called, a page, and said, dis­ dainfully: “ Wipp this filth from my armor. Tho purest stool will rust and tarnish if such stains aro not speedily effaced, and then the tlmo comes when the goodly armor thus devoured refuses to dafAnd fin mtatA? ^ ' efe its aster.' Tho Baron was preparing to make an angry comment on this speech when a trumpet again 7soundod without the castle, and ho roso with an effort to his feet, and thus addressed Victor do Courcy: “ You are summoned home, sir, for a double purpose. In tho first place, to guard the chateau sgalast the menaced attack of enemies, whioh I am too feeble to repel and chastise; and in the second place to be present at the nup­ tials of your brothor.” “ At the nuptials of my brother?” “ Yes, Victor,” stammered Eustace, ‘wish me Joy.” . “ And tho lady?” asked Viotor. “ You will know her soon enough,” said the Baron, with a smile of peculiar meaning. At this momont the folding doors at tho lower part of the hall were thrown opon, and, surrounded by pages and at­ tendants, a beautiful and richly attired lady entered. — . The Baron and Baroness welcomed the lady courteously. Eustace staggered forward and sought to take her hand, hut she turned from him with disdain, and: sank Into a seat, pale and. agitated. “ Blanche de Montreuil!’ ’ muttered Victor, as his eye rested for a moment on her features, “ this is too much.” “ This is a marriage of my making,” said the Baron, leading Victor forward to the lady, “ Havo t not boon happy In my choice? Lady Blanche, this is my second son.” The lady gazed for an instant on tho young knight; arid then, with a faint cry, sank back in her chair. Erminia bent over her and then motioned to her husband and sons to retire. adieu. Perhaps, if in the rude and peril' ous career to which I have devoted n r self my life may he spared, at somo fut­ ure time 1 may return to these towers, hut never to abide.” “Farewell, my son,” said Erminia. “ Farewell, and Heaven bless you!” “ And you, father, will you uot give me your blessing?” asked the young knlgh.t. “ Of whqt avail is it?”, asked the Baron, coldly. “ Depart, and • leave me In peace.” „ “ How have I offended you, father?" asked Victor, in tones of deep sorrow. “ In the daily contrast you have of­ fered to Eustace,” answered the old man, bitterly. “ In the opposition o f your bravery to bis cowardice—your beauty to his ugliness—your honorable life to his disgusting excesses. Yes, for all bis faults' I have loved him—for your virtues I have hated you.” “ Hated me; father?” ’ “ Call m s not father—you aro no son of mine. The hour has arrived for tho avowal o f the truth. After my marriago to your mother 1 learned that previous to our nuptials she had married in early life—Bcoretly marked a man ,far ,be­ neath her in rank, who fell in battle a year after their unhappy union. You, Victor Tracy, the son o f a poor Gascon knight, I have reared as. my own child ;to shame my unfortunate Eustace.” “ And yet in- the pride of my name and linoage I scorned to ,wed Blanche de Montreuil, though I loved her as my lifo.” said Victor, “ Yes,” said the Baron, bitterly. “ I beard of that affair. I wooed her for my son, and she accepted the offer that she mlght.punisb your pride.” ' “ And .she has sacrificed her happiness in so doing.” said the Baroness. “ SllonoO!” said the Baron, “ Not a word—pot an . insinuation against tny son! And now, Victor Tracy, begone! The world is before you.” “ Remember that you bear the name of an honorable man,” said Erminia. “ i will never disgrace it,5' said tho young soldier." “ Farewell, mother; fear not for my future. There is room for brave hearts ^beneath the banner of Philip Augusts. One embrace, dear, mother! Think of me—pray for me.” “ Do not go hence-in this wild storm, my child,” replied the weeping Bar- onoas. , “ Henceforth all seasons aro alike "to me.'* said Victor. Ho toro himself away and hurried down into the courtyard whore his chargor Btood saddled and chafing'at Ilie delay. A ‘page -was beside him, mounted on a palfrey. “ Eugene!” said the young knight. " i t is not EugonoI” answered tho page-, timidly. “ Who then?” askod Victor, in aston­ ishment A soft hand was laid upon bis steel glove, and a soft volco answered: “ What if it should be Blanche do Montreuil?” “ Blanche! Thou! Canst thou havo forgotten my pride—my madness?” “ Forgotten and forgiven all—all but my deep lovo for thee.” “ And Eustacel" “ Name him not Thinkest thou I could accept tho hand of a base profi- gate?” / ‘But I no longer bear the name of Do Couroy. I i°am tho son of a landless man—I bavo no fortune'but my sword VICTIMS OF GASTRONOMY, j Onion, CoOea, Water-Melon *ud j nnd-Dutter Floods, j “ I was for many years a victim of the j onion habit,” ' he said. “ Onions to a man who likes them are lrjpslstibly fas­ cinating. It was always a temptation to me to eat them at every opportunity. When I was forced to go out a day, and so was obliged to deny myself the onions, my sacrifice caused me actual misery. One o f my tricks was to eat a late supper after working hard until long past midnight Of this supper sliced - onions with a . salad dressing formed no unimportant part I discov­ ered that tho more onions I ate the less .1 was able' to resist the cajoleries of their flavor, and, determining to free myself from this servitude, I deliber­ ately sat down, one night to-cure my unsavory passion. I sliced, the biggest and strongest ones that I could find, made my own dressing and then sot to eat them. I ate until my throat was on fire and my stomach was a furnace. I ato until tears poured from my eyes. The biggest and strongest one of a ll I saved for the last and as I devoured that I wept bitterly. But I was without pity toward myself and remorselessly and fiercely, ate on. I have not oaten an onion since that night. I do. not like .them.” •While on tho subject of the onion habit the writer ventures to mention another no less terrible in its chains of slavery. A bachelor, who works late at night and ~ bo does not arise at an early- hour, has for years had his coffee in bod immediately upon awakening. He declares that if he is forced to dress,without having had his coffee he is unable to eat breakfast. He suffers from a severe headaohe all day and goes to bed miserable. He. ad­ mits that he has not the courage to try to break hintself of the habit- Wives and mothers doubtless feel no sympathy for this slave. * Another ease- is that of a map who was passionately fond of watermelons. Coming from San Francisco to New York once he acquired a violent “ watermolon thirst” The ride across the hot plains of Nevada had loft his throat with a wl[d craving for watermelon. At North Platte, Neb., he was able to buy a sickly green watormelonforSl.25. He returnod to his sleeping ear armed with his melon and six bottles of beer. He ate the melon down to the rind; drank the beer/, that afternoon and speptthdnighton.an exploring trip similar to one of Dante's. That watermelon,, ho says, was his last. Ho could forgive the beer, but the melon —novor! And now men in throe instances hav­ ing shown.themselves poor, weak creat­ ures, tho tools of tho whims' and fancies of a depraved taste, it is only fair to speak of tho caso of a woman who is the wife of one of -the best-known njon in New-England. Before going to bed at night she always eats a thin slice of broad and butter. Hho avers that with­ out it she could not sleep. She never eats more ti.an one slice, hut that one slico is actually necessary for a peace­ ful slumber. She Is a striking example of a victim of the bread-and-butter habit—N. Y. Tribune. THE PAGE RODE UP RESIDE HIM. It was midnight—a wild storm was howling over the turret of the Cbateau de Courcy. Victor, in whose breast a storm of passion, fierce as the strife of the elements without, was raging, strode up and down in a lonely Corridor lit only by the Hashes of lightning that momentarily penetrated the deep loop­ holes in the walls. “ My father is right!” he muttered. “ I must fiy. I can not romain to see tho woman Ionce loved sacrificed to another. Henceforth my homo must be among strangers. He gave mo‘an hour to de­ cide. I havo made up my mind—t will return to .him and tell him that I yield." Viotor soon-regained the bedside of his father, beside which his mother was Mated. “ Esther! mother!” cried, the young nan. “I hare returned to bid you and horse. Carist thou bo tho bride of tho bumblo-Vfctor Tracy?” “ Victor! Victor! whatever I ks thy name and fortune, I am too happy to share them!” “ Then by this hand, fair Blanche, I envy not the proudest noble in tho land, Ride on, wo are not far from shelter—and to*tnorrow, dearest, in fair Pa ris! will claim you for my own." The flight of Blanche was not discov­ ered till the ncxL day, when pursuit was unavailing. Eustace do Courcy readily forgot the disappointment, and tho young lovers, protected by tho favor of the King, cared little for the menaces that from time to time reached them from the Chateau de Courcy.—Francis A. Dnrivage, in Boston Globe. Three Insert Oddities, Earwigs ( forfimla ) differ from all oth­ er insects in both thd r origin and structure. They are hatched from eggs, like chickens. Naturalists often report of seeing the maternal earwig with her newly-hatched brood crowded under her like chickens under a hen. The smallest known insect, tho Pteratmw* Putmmii, a parasite o f tho ichneumon, is but one-ninetieth of an inch In length. The largest insect known to tho en­ tomologist, the Prtbu*«titrit o f Lin* Minus, a noctuld moth of Central Amor lea, expands its wings from eleven to eighteen inches.—St Louis Republic. SAMBO’S ARGUMENT- The Sleeping-Car Farter’s Side bt the Pop­ ular Tip Htorjr. A sleoping-oar porter of moro than' average^ Intelligence was drawn out on the story that employes in positions like his livo in palaces when not on a run, wear diamonds, and give receptions at certain seasons. “ You would not expect me to confess that 1 am making money above my sal­ ary, oven if it were true,” he said. “ I think* that the story of our wealth orig­ inated with the man whose soul was tucked under tho wings of tho eagle on a quarter of a dollar. Suppose we have a dozen sleepers on each run, and that Is above tho average; out of that num­ ber It is safe to say that four will be women and children. That leaves eight passengers for us to ’work,' as the say­ ing la Out of that eight maybe four will hand us from ten cents to twenty* five cents, and we have moro of the former than of the lattor. The tip aver­ ages ten cents the year round. Say we make a dollar a rlui out of passongers—* I* mean the sleepers—wo call them sleepers to distinguish them from the other passengers. There is a dollar. I suupose you think the porter puts that n his pocket. Well, If he is an old man on the road and has influence at head­ quarters he keeps all he can get—I don’t deny that. But lot” me tell you something that Isn't generally known. There is a spy on every train that goes out o f Chicago or runs into it. I don't mean to say that the company puts a spy on every train, though it is some­ times done. But the spy is there just the same. He may want the job of porter for himself or friend. Ho reports every Inattention and shortcoming of tho man who has the job. Or^the spy may be a spy for reven uo only, as is fre­ quently tho case. Tho spy may be In any position from traih-boy up, and the minute the porter finds out who he is he begins to pay him tribute, unless, as I said before, the porter Is solid at head­ quarters. To make a long story short tho porter has to pay out half ho makes to hold his jo b That’s so, and every porter knows i t The newspapers have lots of fun at our expense, but they wouldn't think it was so funny if they had the job fo r awhile. I am not kick­ ing, for I am one o f the seild ones. But I know the business from the bottom up."—Chicago Tribune. ' PERSONAL AND IMPERSONAL —A foreign newspaper bas gallantly conferred upon Mrs. Henry M. Stonier the t|tlo o f “ Queen oP Africa” — Certain European noblemen—princi­ pally Englishmen—are now the owner* of about31.000,000 acres.of land in iha , United States’ , , ■—Saccharine 1 b a substance 300 timti as sweet as sugar. It comes In packages of about ISO pounds, is stunningly got. ton up, regardless of expense, and is en­ cased in hoopsklrts, bustles, velvet bod­ ices and silk gowns.—Richmond Re­ corder. —The Nizam of Hyderabad paid $ 63 ,. 000 for the big Gordon-Orr diamond t« wear in his head-dress. Before cutting tho stone weighed 67Jf carats, and alter cutting 2 4 oarats. It is said to be the best, purest and most brilliant stone known. —King Leopold, of Belgium, is said to have done something while in Lon­ don recently which offended Queen Vic- toria. His visit to Balmoral on^the Queen’s birthday is supposed to nave been for tho purpose' of making an apology. —The late. Ezra Farnsworth, of Bos­ ton, is reported to have given away $ 20,000 a- year/ He was kind to young, men, and more than one successful busi­ ness man in Boston to-day owes his start to the $4,000 or $5,000which Deacon Farnsworth loaned him at a low rate of interest, upon no security save his per aonal note.. —A printer’s error has been discovered in the last issue of the .Bibl.o from the Cambridge Press. In Isaiah, xivlil 13, the word “ foundation”- is begun with an “ ri’ instead of an “ f.” The mistake was discovered by. a young -son of Roy Dr. H.. Adler, who has received the standing reward of a guinea offered for detection of such an error. —A daughter of General Lyon (tho Connecticut hero who sorved in the Mexican and civil wars, and who leftall his property to the Government to as­ sist in carrying on the latter war) has been found serving as a' cook in a grad­ ers’ camp near Denver, Col., where her husband, an invalid, tvas a workman. It is stated, . also, that the wife of Lin­ coln's first private secretary, Frank Mil- ton, is a cook on the steamer .St. Croiix, on a Western river. . . ‘ —Tho original John Jacob Astor was. -the son. of a butcher in tho town of Wal­ dorf, Germany, ,and 'served an appren­ ticeship at the block with his father un­ til he reached the ago of seventeen and. took fortune at its tide by emigrating to America. Phil Armour, the big Chi­ cago packer and railroad man, says that ho is “ only a butcher," and ho was such in. his youth. Foropaugh, the showman, was the!son of a Philadelphia butcher, and when only nine yours old ho bocame his father’s assistant in .the little shop that made them their living. The two great turfmen of the day, the Dwyers, started in life a s . butchers, and as re­ cently as IStfl they had a stall in Wash­ ington Market IMPEF paper h u Hepry S of? Africa, n nobieme ^1 “ A LITTLE NONSENSE." —Soiled clothes should not be allowed to remain in the bedrooms. They taint the air and Make It impure. ■:&\ . —Somebody who has tried It, says it takes more courage to rise beforo sun-up than it does to wear new boots.—Ram’s Horn. —“ Tho idea, of killing a poor little mosquito. Why don’t you take one of your own size?” “ I did. This was a Jersey mosquito.”—N. Y. Sun. —Wife—“ Soithey returned your man­ uscript It is too bad.” Husband (who thinks ho can writo)—“ Yos; that is what tho editor said abput i t " —Boston Herald. —Caller—“ Is your father at home, Johnny?” Johnny—“ Course ho la Didn’t you seo his host suit of clothes on the line? Ma just washed. thorn.”— Yankee Blade. —Lovor (dolefully pointing to a piece torn from his trousors)—“ Look at that Your dog bit mo.” Sweot Creaturo— "D id lie? Poor little Fldo. I supposo he was jealous.’*—Good News. — Lawyer—“ You’re perfectly Sure no one will pay .a cent to tho concern?” Client—“ I am. There’s nothing loft for anybody.” Lawyer—“ Then a re­ ceiver must be appointed.”—Society. —A suburban paper, in giving tho de­ tails of a reception, says: “Mrs. Chalker, tho wife of our entorprising milk merchant was becomingly attired in watered silk,”—Philadelphia Record. —Mr, Fogg having bad the misfortune to fall Into the fountain-basin of the hotel at a watering-place, finds on his next week’s bill the following entry; “ To one cold bath, one dollar."—File- geode Blatter. —Cottager—“ I ordored two dozen eggs yesterday, Mr. Crackers, and paid :for them, but you only sent twenty.” Mr. Crackers—“ Wa-al, you see, four of ’em was bad; an’ I knowed you wouldn’t kcor for ’em.”—Puck. —Mrs. Flannagan—'Th is, mum, Is me twin bye, Micky.” Mrs. Smiley— “ Indeed! Ami where is his brothor?” Mrs. Flannagan-—“ Sure he’s over to his mother's house, Mrs. Riley. Her Jamcsy and me Micky is twins, mum—born the same day.”—America, —A young woman who pays a large amount of taxes in Parsons claims tho right to pasture her cows In the school itouse grounds, because she nover had any children to send to school. That woman ought to have been a lawyer.—- Topeka (Kan.) Journal. —“ Young man,” exclaimed tho moral­ ist. pointing to the .second hand of the clock as it marked the flight of tho moments into eternity, “ what is the language of that timepiece?” “ It has none, sir,” replied the idler, “ it goes without saying.''—Philadelphia Press. f Belgium sing while offended Q Balmoral supposed use of nij jVMftaoi wash *h<>uld jSste-pipM*41*5* —If you are a w .. have your work-ta are now t a few incheB^bigh ;cres o f la -liy ^ This -pavent J»»ey A aubstanoe! ' ^Nothing i» u t comes 1« E «ell-kept lawn—) is atunnl I > nr shade trees. 1 ! expense, I grow in adnndi bustleB, v< * wrowik with the 1 ns,—Rtchc other things if w; —Tomato Ome [yderabad cup flour (scant ion-Orr di herbs, salt! and ,sa. Befoi tablespoon suga r>{ carats, tomatoes, and . I t is said Bake under roast ,ost brlllii buttered —Delicate B: 6weetmilk, two- powder, h a lt % ‘ one teaspoon ful make a soft dot: Inch thick, and with a small bak In a very hot oyt —Stuffed T oe large and firm as place in the top. part- Mix with • parsley, butter, onions hud pars- pith this mixtu: tin and hake in Housekeeper- __Ice Cream equal parts of sweeten it very . extract desired, i _ with plenty of f it, and lot it s fore stirring. . teen minutes it —Banner ,and B —Bice Dump with a Uttlo n dredge flour ov scoop out the ci quarter them, water the dum] flonr. Cover tl prsfSsing firmlj the cloths and i Serve with . cr Globe. Crab-Apple herian crab-apr - » Jacob.-A* arid bo)l till n tho town colander;, add r served an of sugar to 'a T with his fa apples; boil and jams requi ring as tho lea the flavor. Ta. and lot it cooL . about it and it cooked. Put • "When cold and j'arnawortl have gh v:as kind one siicces a to-day 85,,000whic im at a lo turity save has been dl he Bible i Isaiah, 3 1 " is begui •f.” The young son has redo! guinea oi error. General L; ho served r8,' and wh lovernmer ao latter 1 a cook li sr.-Col., wl ' was a w t the wife jretary, Fri steamer S with pieces oi out to fit, and marmalade. ( paper, brushed the white of ni the outside of Stockman.___ STYLES Ladloa 3 of seven! tide by em: •mour, the ^ad man,'s , ” and ho \ ugb, tho sh lladelphia 1 fears old he in tho lit : living. \ day, the 1 itohers, and id a stall it v ONSENSI a tried it,' »rise before tew boots- ling a pot ; .you take did. This >ataKh p • *• 8un' rn for/tt iturnod you t: ” Husban - “ Yos; bout i t ” - Toiletf Th Cashmeres: diagonal effe> autumn, and. prominent in dered. goods 1 large s‘ design the border,11 size, being “ der o f tho fa' Early im; linery dlspla foots that le mor bats, front brims, and low cro« fly-bows of da ting to 1 poised as li| )—.“ Look a their proto’ Sweet Gres flowers duri Fido. I flowers are, f Nows, ostrich feat perfectly as trimming i? the coni father at “ Course 1 t suit of 1 washed th rimming s crown as o e’ a others have tack and tv tho edge of ing the m the trimr to ‘ decide rounded nothing ar—“ Then 43 d, “—Socie in giving ti n, says: our enterp •comingly a _ ladolpbiaR- getber. T- a(i the misfc brims at tl ^ . ^ s i n „ and close auuc.u™ ftce, finds 0 ban shape? foUowtnff £ P*°*acf * ’ 10 dollar,” - that will 1 Ih the 1: Gd two dozer preference r3> and pt{ 1 Th e fxv nt twenty." The fas gee fotfr ^ Sri2£d’d you wou wingmwh ,.TW mun bincdwit Mr#. SmJ hats of -ve Ss hJ„ br0t) t*1'" 0 he’s overt wdlti ° r‘ ley. HerJa: ? ? f clc str, mum—bon brigbti*c<* ribbons r ,bot)(|ysi| themseh r(Jon# ciajma gsrnltim W|>in thft|K „ s she neve* school, • rich d f( { LjiAw * 1&WV the dark DWJI * • w* ■ ^ S U ^ e d t h e m . “ What is f d e o e r “ It *“ *■ /idler, “ It , d e lp h ia f’rei 5*1 * t !