Algona Courier from Algona, Iowa on November 9, 1894 · Page 3
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November 9, 1894

Algona Courier from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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Algona, Iowa
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Friday, November 9, 1894
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/ . ,,' ^v "^.v 1 * '• '.'''"(•' fr' r * f' 1 ' ';f ! ;; v '-' '}'* *y?'\tf.$:* r ^$? f *$'% ';£,!' ''••'"',, ; ' " •tHE COURIER, ALSONA, FRIDAY MORNIN&. NOVEMBER ft, THE Master o the Mine. feY tayself, however, 1 was about to move away, and so avoid embftrrAssmout, when the master's voice arrested me. "Trelawhey," he 84id; "one moment." I .pauaed. •,'i3Tes, sir." '•kiss Graham wishes to gd down the tome, 1 tell heir IE Is impossible. What da ?6ti say? is itffit for ft lady?" I was about to refely whert Madeline Inter- "Don't worry about it, George," she saldj "I've abandoned the idea." Then, stepping tip to me, she hold forth her little gloved liaiid. I bowed over it, but did not take it, giving as an excuse that I was not fit to approach her. "I daresay you were in quite as forlorn a condition the other morning when you Bnatehed hie from 1 the wreck," she said: "Yet you did not hesitate then, when your own life was in peril. Mr. TrelaWney, take my hand/' I diil as she requested; I clasped the little hand in both of mine and raised it respectfully to my lips, in doing so I caught a glimpse of George Hedruth's face; it was black ns the pit mouth, "Now, my dear Madeline," ho said, impatiently, "shall we so.backV" But Madeline Was not ready, or perhaps eho wns too imperious to be so ordered by her cbus.it). She had abandoned all intention of descending tho l mine; but sfie was, nevertheless, anxious to inspect the outside of it. "But you can go," she. said. "Mr. Trelawney will escort me." "Nonsense 1" returned her cousin. "Trelawney has got his work to attend to. 1 will •toy." And ho did stay, for fully two hours; at the end of which time she allowed him to take her away. » Three other days passed without a sign from her; then I encountered her again. It •was in the evenins, when I wns walking home. This time she was alone; except for the servant, who walked at a respectful distance behind her. tSlie came up to me unreservedly, and again lie Id forth her hand. Having shaken hands with her, 1 paused.uot Very well knowing what to do; when she helped me. ' L "I came to walk Back with you," she said, i "Do yoti mind?" , i "I mlndf" I repeated, in amazement. "You torget, Miss Graham, it is an honor for mo to walk beside yon." She gave a little impatient toss of her head, and wo walked on together. For some time not a word was spoken, but I felt that she •was watching me keenly. Presentlv she Bald! "Do yon know what I have been doing, Mr. Trelawney?" — • "NO." "I have been trying to find in you one trace «f the boy I knew, years ago, at Munster's— and I have failed." "I don't understand." , . "No? Well, I will explain. The boy I knew was kind to mo; frank, open-hearted, generous. You are somewhat unfriendly; reserved, harsh, and, if I may say so, churlish. Why are you so changed?" "I am not changed, Miss Graham; or, if I am, it is but with ttie tide of fortune, which has ebbed and not flowed with me since we mot before. When we were at Munster's 1 believed we were equals, but now " "\es; now " "You are Miss Graham; I am the overseer of your cousin's mine." "Then you wish us to remain strangers?" "I think it would bo better." "Ah! yon are cnwlor than I thought; If you will not accept my friendship for the Bake of tho old clays whcn^we were boy and girl together, you will, at,least, have some pity upon me. I am lonely and among strangers here. You seem like an old friend. ( If you will suffer me to talk to you sometimes it will make my stay here more pleasant." Her pleading, won the day, and we, became friends. 'I never \yent to Redruth'!House, and slie never cams'to the cottage. „ I never •ought her, but quite innocently and frankly she sought me. We often went on the moor when, after'my long day's work, 1 was mak- , Ipg my; way home, and I could not regard ' these,?i)eetings as purely 1 ' accidental- on her part. She was always. accompanied by the •black girl; until one evening, when she ap- " peared alone. , " "You are looking for Anita I" said Madeline, noting my glance., "She has gone to London 'with my aunt's maid, and will > not return till close on midnight My cousin counseled my staying at home to-night, or allowing him ,to accompany me, I knew I should not want for company, so refused to -isutimlt. I may not enjoy these walks much • (longer."* ( ',, "What! are you going away?" I asked, in •erne alarm,-, ," ,' She shrugged her shoulders, "Perhaps I I don't know; certainly^ shall', have to go Booner or later, but I trust it may be sooner. .When I w^s shipwrecked here I was on my ;way to London^ to take up my abode with pome otlier relations. They are troubling me with questions, BO I' have sent up Anita to .•atijsfy them as to my safety. Yet I suppose ,'I shall some clay have to go,",, ,' ' ^ • ' , She tr(ed to speak carelessly, yet I fancied , 1 detected a ring of regret in her voice, and I quaped before' the .feeling .of despla.tion t which her words brought to my heart, , , In that one sentence phe h^d unfittingly 1 ' I'nfe nu'gelf—revealed to me tho ter- '' '. Jjh. ad, ,b?en, yainjy -jtryius Jyp^sJSvfn "»8ft .she,.had. previously passed wllhoutfe'iWark, To bfcgin with; he Idoked at least ten years blder. His old cheery laugh was gone; and his eyes had a hard, far-away look, very different to their former happy brightness. Sometimes, as wo sat together, he would rise abruptly and pass out of the house, leaving the meal on the table untouched. My aunt seemed to forget her own trouble in watching his! and nothing could surpass the silent tenderness with' which she waited upon him, never breathing a word of her solicitude, but showing in a hundred gentle ways her wifely sympathy and devotion. On thfc present occasion wd breakfasted very late; and as we sat, there came to us, faintly wafted over the distant moorland, the sound of the church'bells. My uncle started, listened, and drew back his chair. Then, before we" could say a word, ho seized his hat, and left the house. "Gaw after htm, Hugh I" cried my aunt- adding quickly, "Na, stay I Maybe 'tis better to let 'un be. Oh, Hugh) Hugh, ho never been the same man since our Annie went frahnmel" And the tears streamed down her worn cheeks as she spoke, and her voice was broken. 'l)o»'t fret, .aunt i" I said, gently. "I'm sure Annie is all right—indeed, you know from her own letter tuat Ho harni lias come to her." "I'm nawt fretting for Annie, It's for father I" was tho reply. "I clawn't knaw whnt there bo upon his mind, but he's tarrlble changed; and what be warst, lie won't speak o't oveh to me; but keeps it like a cankerworm, a-gnawing and eating out his life. I were Watching hint just naw.-alul I knaw'd well what were passing through 'un's mind." "What?" "First he saw thee dressed and start, and thought haw Ills Annie} too, would bo sitting, ready for church o' Sundays; and then tho bolls sounded, and all tho happy'time cam' back upon poor father's heart. Oh, Hugh! if you and Annie had been -different to one another, father would ha* been happy still, but I don't blame 'ee, lad—it were no fault o' vou'ni I" aulioodf \ , > o ,-'•;',', ',""' >,' J loved her with the same unthinking love '' ill had;filled jny sou^ a^a boy^lovQd her ,„,.,-i while"! felt that such* a lovV might be . $|ie means of blig^htlng-my'life, I know that t"n9 'good qquld come, of Jt, for was slio oiot as * nqvpd from,' ma as' the moon was ,re- I from the'.sssajaiid yet 1 felt at ,that sioipsnt "that to' lovelier so, bei^ojily for i one hour, wa^wprtb ^hole centals pf'pfyn, * Rim win tim.( w .tl( me ns far as the .cottage, But though she acquitted me in words, there was in a manner a certain affectionate reproach. 1 "Aunt," I said, "I would cut off my hand to put things right; but Annie never cared for me, and I " 1 paused awkwardly, knowing well that I had never loved ruy cousin. "The Lawd will punish herl" cried my aunt, bitterly. "I'll ne'er forjrle her 1 Ifslie • had stayed at hame like a decent lass, it would all ha' come right i' the end. But she weutwi' scarce a ward, and wherever she be, tho Lawd will punish her!" "Nay, nay," 1 said, rising and putting my hand on my aunt's shoulder, "don't be hard on poor Annio I She'll soon coma back, and then all will be explained." * My aunt's manner changed again, and the tears streamed'from her eyes anew. "Oh, Hugh, my lad, think you our lassie will ever coom back?" "Of course. 'Twas but a lass' whim for change; she'll soon tire and return. I'm sure no harm lias happened to her, and she. was always kind and loving." • "Saw she were, Hugh, saw she were Hugh, will 'ee speak to father, and try to cheer 'un?" I, nodded, then stooping, I kissed my aim- on tho cheek. Tho Sabbath bells still rung from tho distance, clearly and sweetly. The sun looked in through the window, and sunbeam trembled on tho paven floor.' "Shall yon gaw to church, Jad?" asked my aunt, as I moved to the door. ' "Not to day," I replied. "I'm going for a walk-on the moor.' 1 < ,. > ' She looked at me keenly, and I saw that she guessed my secret; for the truth was, I was hoping and praying to meet with Madeline. VVith a heavy sigh, she turned away, and began removing the breakfast things. Once outside, 1 breathed again. It was a calm, beautiful, sunny day, with just a touch of frost in the clear sparkling air. I?ar away the sea shone like silver. I hesitated a moment, then walked clown the road toward the lodge gate—toward the very spot where, years before, 1 had nrst me George Redruth. No one was about; a Sabbath stillness lay everywhere; and the faint sound of the .far-off bells only , rendered it deeper. I paused at the gate, and looked up the avenue. There was no'sign of any one. longed to walk • right up to the great house and Inquire for herl sought; but I lacked the courage. What was I, a common over- 1 seer of the mine, to go following tho footsteps of a proud lady? If I could meet her by accident, good and well; but I did not wish even her to suspect that I was so anxious for the meeting. Perhaps she had gone on to church. If so, doubtless George Kedruth was in her company. I fretted at the thought, and turned away. At last, weary witli waiting. I determined to seek forgetrulness in a long walk across the moor, such as 1 had told my aunt 1 had intended to take. Quitting tho road, I followed a path whicli led- right over the open moorland .in the direction of the sea. 'The air was full of lightness and sweetness; but my spirits by this time had sunk'to frepzlrig-point. As to forgetting the one objectof my thought, that was shiiplyimpossible. My soul was full of one image, which went with me at every step 1 took. , 1 had wandered about a mile when f perceived, by the side of a lonely moorland tarn -^one of those dark, turf-stained poojs which cast back the light like polished ebony, and are often mysteriously deep—the figure of a man,. lie was sitting 011 a fragment of rook ivnd looking at the water. J • , Coming XIP quickly, 1 recognized my uncle. V' Our eyes wet/ but he H did,iiot'speak. Turn-, ing his head away, he looked,down at the tarp." '' . ; "Why; jiiucle," ft' cried, 1 , ^ th'ou'ght you wer.o at church I" ,' •, .- J • "Naw, Ifid," he answered, still with his hea,d averted; "naw, lad, I were in naw niood.fof to kneel and pray, I carne out yax on the' was,to land, and I sat down yar, a-thjnking." \ •' * • >, I/put my hand upqn'his shoulder, '"UiiclOj you're. ; not angry?,.• With me,; I \ "^a>y, |ad,", he replied, '.in. the'same Jpw, Ustjess tone?.' ,'f.j. ha,'<ii9 ca^io be angry, least of all wv} t|iep.'nDou'p !ee,j mind, m&~ sg!»h^ yQur galt|'an4 lea^ me here, olawn,." '- y.Bu^ii'empnjbereUmy*prpjpisV- - ; - : twere a kind that she Were feared to tefl eveii to her awn father. That lettet my Aft lie write came from a sore heart—maybe i ifeart some villain hrtd broken; and what! ;hlnk, lad, 6ther folk think too—I ha' seen herh whispering It to one aflftwther, arid coking at tnc/" Of course I understood him well enough; lor tho same thought had often enough befea 'n my oWn mind. "Whatever has happened," I said, "be sure of one thing, Annie Is not to blamel Uiicle, do you know what I have often sus pected? My cousin left us only for a little white, because she Wished to be out of Georg* Berirnth's way." "What d'ye mean?" he cried, storting, and trembling violently. "There was sornctliing between them. Hi !iad won her heart, perhaps. Then, distrusting him, and knowing the 'great distance between their stations, she said to herself, 'I will go away for a time till 1 am cured, 01 till he lias left the place.'" My Uncle frowned thoughtfully, and shook his head. "Naw, Hugh—there be more in't than that; "but, whate'er it be, I'm sure tho young master had no hand In 't. I know you never; liked 'un, Hugh; but Master Jarge has a kind heart, and would never do a dirty cleed.- \Vhy, I ha' knawed him and sarved him evei Sin' he were a boy, and i'd tuist 'un wi' my own life." In pity for his trouble, 1 forbore to tell him all I knew. Even had I done so, I believe his simple faith in the "master" Would have remained 'firm. "It's o' suinmat elrw I'm thinking, lad," he said, after a pause; "suminat that were tawld me t'other day, by John Rudd. Three ol four days arter Annie went away, John Rudd he saw her in Falmpnth, alawng wi' that Yankee chap, Johnson, the overseer." He noticed my start of surprise, and con< tiniied: "They were standing talking together on the qiiay, and Annie were crying, llaybq there's summat in it, and maybe nawt; but sin' the night she went, overseer chap h been away—folk say, in London. Putting tliis and that tagether, Hugh, my lad, whal do it all mean?" i was as puzzled as himself; but I hasten ed to assure him of one tliini;—the utter ini- possibility of there being any intimate rela. tionship between my cousin and the pseudo- American. He looked somewhat incredulous, for jn his simple eyes Johnsbn was a stylish and Important person, very likely to find favor in tho eyes of a young woman. He rose wearily, and held out his hand. "Lea' me to think it out, lad. My mind be fixed that snmmafs wraug, and I sha'n'i sleep till I knaw tho truth, the whole Gospe! truth. I ha' been praying and praying that tilings be nawt as I ha' leared, for if any living man had played the villain wi' my Annie, Lawd help him 1 Lawd keep bin; from the reach o' my hands 1" As I looked into his face, I could not help echoing the prayer. I felt certain at th« same time, that his fears and suspicions hai shot greatly in excess of tho truth. I knew that scandal was busy with poor Annie's name, and that much of tho scandal musi have reached his ears; but I could notyei bring myself to believe that Annie's nigln betokened anything seriously wrong. Ol one tiling I felt, nevertheless, certain—tha it wrong had been done, George lledruth, was in some way responsible. I stood and watched my uncle, as he wan dered away in the direction of our home: .then I turned my face again toward the sea and wandered on. As I went, the mooi grew opener and wilder, strewn with grca stones and bowlders like fragments of tha wreck of some past world; some huge ai menhirs translated thither in some prehis toric period of wondrous floods—when th< arid waste on whicli I trod was tho oozy bob loin of a troubled sea. Here and there fed wild cattle, black ant honied, 1 like>thoso that haunted the woods of ancient Britain. In solitary places thi To be continued AUSTRALIA'S COLD MINES. . Two Young Adventurers Wlio Strike I Great Bonanza In That Country. Some big stories are current of thi richness of the Coolgardic gold field in w.esteru Australia, and particularly says the Scientific American, of om mine in the district discovered by twt young adventurers named Bailey anc Ford. The former, while prospecting found a forty-five ounce nugget stick ing out from a reef in a big mountain of quartz.' As quickly as possible . claim was staked out, but in spite of al precautions much valuable surface on \\*as stolen before a proper guard coulc be established. The monthly output from, the min now amounts to 2,000 ounces. Fran thirty tons of ore picked from a bulk o 1,400 tons 18,000 ounces of gold wer obtained, and- the remainder of thi stone is expected to yield from five ti six ounces to the ton. Out of 650 ton raised from a depth of fifteen feet twelve tons were picked, giving 8,500 oun , of smelted gold. From another part o the mine four tons selected out of 10( tons of ore yielded 1,600 ounces of gold .Some of the other returns of pickec stone were: Five tons from -'SoO ton for 2,000 ounces, two tons from sevent; tons for 900 ounces, four tons for 1,00' ounces, and thirty-five hundredweigli for 800 ounces. Some of the suvfafco "i so rich in gold that ounces can, some .times be picked,out in a few minutes, Do\yn,to rf tbe-fifty-foot level pnly un j estimated-that'gold to t|io amount e 4Q.QOO ouupes is now in sight. It is ( as yet, too soon to speak abou the prospects of other claims whlci have been pegged out In apd aroum Coplgavdie. Very fovv of thqm hav got beyond |ne rudimentary stage o prospecting' claims, although report flare ,b,een received of , soma vjvlu«,bl finds,- um'ong which nj'ay be cited ft ree cavryiug ten ounces to the ton,' and, th discovery pf nugget? pf 'fifty-two oiuio woigb^ pn. a fiojd totwtiyq inijes, djs tftu^ •' sThe population of >' the , plac amounted tdabout'J.fiyO ( et»me„-weejj agp, ,byt 'sincfi then hag diminished; * jq cgnsequencja of. 1 , the^terrjblo, • havcjaliipi —^ -ih, mii?t' be flnc9iint?ved there; o\yjn{ wtJUswfcy you're tfretUnK -"* n " ^&*£$?&&ft^^ !•*'•" | The best baking powder made is, J"" 1 as shown by analysis, the Royal. W. LDoucLAS P'ffl?»6tt >«| Com'r of HeUlth) Neiv- York City. Cigarette Smoking. "Cigarette smoking among women In :his country has rapidly •> increased in the kit few years," said B. F. Allan of Albany to a (Washington Star man. 'When I was on the road' some years igo selling cigarettes many of our cus- ;omers intrusted me with the secret of :ho trade, and we had few buyers in Sew York city, especially in the drug ;rade, who did not have regular feminine callers for the short styles of smokes. The fair habitual users of the weed are not confined by any means to ictresses or women who have disregard for the proprieties. I know of a cigarette club in New York composed of young women, who meet at each other's aouses for the purpose of indulging in the delights of a surreptitious smoke, •whose members wore the very pinks of propriety in every other way and whoso parents would have had one tit after another had they known \vhat was going on. "It is a pretty well proved physical Pact that a person who begins smoking cigarettes for the fun of the thing becomes addicted to their use in ninety- nine cases out of a hundred, or 'a percentage nearly as big, anyhow. There are many women who'move in the best American circles who are as much enslaved to the cigarette habit as the veri- est dude in existence. In England WOUien in society do not hesitate to even smoke cigarettes in public restaurants or after luncheon, at the races or other outdoor..entertainments." Actor—Can't you give me a part that I will have some chance to make a hit in? Manager—I might dramatize "William Tell," I suppose. What part would I have? You could bo William Tell and hit apple. _Mr. Lowland (of Jersey)—Every af fliction has some compensatiu' blessin. Son—How about bein" tarred and feathered? , Mr. Lowland—Well, it would be a mighty good protection agin musqui- toes. An Insect Sounding-Board. Man's inventions are frequently but imitations, more or less clumsy and ineffectual, of nature's own devices. It would appear, for instance, that even the insect, have sounding-boards, although they may bo supposed to know nothing of the laws of acoustics. Entomologists have recently discovered on the underside of the fore-wings of two Japanese insects, of the families cidaria, a curious pit or hollow closely connected with an organ believed to be used by the insect for producing strident sounds. The pit would evidently servo to concentrate the sound as the shell- shaped orchestra-stands at some of our seaside resorts rellect the melody of the instruments.to the ears of the auditors. In the Khari hills in India another species of the same insect has been found which possesses a similar set of organs. The shrill, creaking sounds that insects produce seldom fall pleasantly upon our ears but they must produce different effects in: the insect "world else nature wonld hardly have provided these little musicians with sounding-boards.—• YoutKs Qompanion.. *4 BROCKTON, MASS. You CUM save monfty by wearing tliS , tV. ti. DoutrlaS 83.OO Shorn Ocean so, wo arc tho largest hianufactnr«t() of this gradoof ahoAa In tho world, and guarftnted tn«lf YAluo by stamping the namo ond price on to* bottom, which protect you against high JwiceS shd the middleman's profits. Our shoos equal ewitom work In style, easy fitting And wearing qualltle*.) Wo hate thorn sold everywhere ntlowet prices fo» tho rnlue fflreri thatt any other make. Tnka no ttftV itttuto. If your dealer cannot supply you, Wo can. f : .a i, ^e '41 WALTER BAKER& CO, The Largest Manufacturers of PURE, HIGH GRA&E COCOAS AND CHOCOLATES On this Continent, have fecolvid SPECIAL AND HIGHEST AWARDS on alt their Ooodt at th» CALIFORNIA MIDWINTER EXPOSITION.) Ti'-ir BREAKFAST COCOA, Which, tinliko the Dutch 1'rpceM, It m«d« without tho uio of Alitalia* or other Chcmlooli or Dyei, li nbio- . ^, lutoljr pure and.tolbble, and eoit* leu than out cent a cup. <> MS. ?'*! •', f i ' '&% ,<4 v« SOLD BY GROCERS EVERYWHERE.! WALTER BAKER & CO. DORCHESTER, MASS, New Minister—Docs "your father go to church regulrrly? Little ..Girl—Yos, indeed. Mamma would give him fits if he didn't. Miss Manyseason—Yes, I have consented to marry Mr. Goldbugg. I do not love him, but I respect him. Miss Budd—Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Most likely his feeling for you is chiefly veneration. — During tho last 3,000 years Britain has been Invaded by foes from over the sea no less than forty-eifiht times. Ely's Cream Balm Clemen tlie Nasal Passage*, Allays Pulii and Iiilljiiiimntloii, Restores tJio SCIIBCS of Tnale and Smell. Heal a the Sores. Apply Balm Into each nostril. KLT BEOS,, CO Warren St., IT. T. -^ VERY ONE WHO WBAKS THB OWEN*ELECTRIC BELT* "^ Says: "The v are the Best." Gotao»i-,' aloguo toy writing The Owen Electric Belt Co. 209 State Street, 1 CHICAGO, UflMCy No Mime whatever-by purJ mUNl.li ohnslug Prlvllogen-on tho Now Tork. Stock Mnrknt, nncl lid-vino; thorn Intelligently worked by A. W. BAKNAUD, Banker, 00 and et Broadway, Kov York; -Bond tor. FrOBpbbtui. ' OMAHA BUSINESS COLLE6E SSWfl u 111 n 11 n catalogue free. F.F.Hoose,Pron.Om».!i« Mm. Wlniloiv'n SpoTHiNo STBDP for children teething, noftoiia tho-gums, reduces lnflnro»tlon,l allays pain, cures wind colic. iSoabottlo. I -••V W^ > Comes Every Week. For all the Family, Finely Ulttatrated. $!.« a Tear. TOie Full Prospectus for 1805 (sent free to every applicant) gives abundant evidence of the variety,* interest and value of the contents of the sixty-ninth volume of THE YOUTH'S COMPANION. The following titles of articles and names of Contributors suggest a few of its many attractions. Contributors for 1895. Mr. Gladstone has written a'striking paper of reminiscences of his lifelong friend and physician, Sir Andrew Clark. f The Princess Christian, of Schleswig-Holsteln. Two Daughters of Queen Victoria, -, - ,, ( The Princess Louise (Marchioness of Lome).. The Story of My First Voyage, w. Clark Russell. A School Revisited, ' •-; j ar aes Matthew Barrie. The 3old 'Prentice, The Story of a Locomotive Engineer, Rudyard Kipling 1 . How to Tell a Story, , Mark Twaln , An Editor's Relations with Young Authors, William Dean Howells.1 • And Articles and StorieiTby more than a hundred other well-known writers. , Serial Stories. rhe Lottery Ticket, j. T. Trowbrldge. The Young Boss, . Edward W. Thomson. A Girl of the Revolution, Dorothy Nelson. By Harold Frederic, C. A. Stephens, W. J. Long, C, M. Thompson, Warren L, Wattis, and others. Health and Home Articles. 'Self-Cure of Wakefulness, Dr. W. A. Hammond. The Cellar, t Dr. W. C.' Bralsltn. Dresses for Children, Louise Manville-Fenn. Put the Children on Record, Pres^ Stanley Hall. Help for Consumptives, Dr. Harold Ernst. Favorite Features for 1895. Short Stories; Adventure Stodes; Travellers' Tales; Anecdotes of Noted People; Life in Foreign Schools; Papers on Art and Arijsts; Articles on Science, Nntural History and Hygieije; Papers by American Admira|s; Opportunities for Boys; Football, Fishing and Cnroping; Editorials; Poems: Selections; Children's Page; 'Fine'IIlustrations; Most Wholesome Reading for all'the Family. ' SUP FREE

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