i

A AEN ber ge A

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A 2 GS (git WR A ae a, TO

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wn : THE DAILY EXAMINER, MONDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1895 te |

When the Poet Came.

(Bugene Ficid, in Chicago Record.) I ; fhe ferny p'aces gieam sat morn, The dew i€ aves of corm; mist of white su kis ps of light; e v nis pipe finds se meloties are ripe! 1 r thin the cadenced June P . ced i iving tune id 1 e morning's chime "A : the earth aud sky to rhyme; i , re absent long, Breathes tirst raptures of his song ! It Across the clover-blossoms, wet, With dainty umps of violet And wild red roses in aer hair, Yhere comes a little maiden falr, t can J e rehearse si ix the ending of my verse! iv 4h For through perpetual days ‘ Jt st x , al filmy haxe “ n dies wrpter'’s sleet, t ¥ ‘ - yee y- hed feet 4nd its of I nd Time Dury i a f y rhytme

Yule Chant.

Clink ¢t? eakers, swell the song, I is sl t and love is iong Yesteryear did Philome! Sit where Dorothea ts livbert told a story well Now where Wil! is telling his PI nel is gone and wed; ! Dorothea takes her place Hubert’s on the sea, or dead

Will has aught of Hubert’s grace. link the beakers,swell

€ the song, Li 1ort and love is long!

is st Underneath the mistletoe Handsome Gwyn hissed Anice sweet Gwyn ts in a churchyard row;

Anice nestles at his feet Mother Margot said she knew,

Py her cat and beli and bone, Gwyn was marked and Anice, too— Life is short and love is long!

Clink Life

the beakers,swell the song, is short and lonve is tong! jiere’s the beer and here’s the boar; | Pile another timber Time's a taper—shut the door ~ | We are quick and they are gone. Will shall Dorothea kiss Underneath the berry bough; Mother Margot's safe, I wis, With her wispy witches now. link the beakers,swell the song, Life is short and love is long!

BLIND MRS. VAN WAGENEN.

on,

The Van Wagenen home, nearly 2 hundred years ago, was in lower Br ad- way, and but a short walk from Lowl- | ing Green and the Battery It was 2 broad brick mansion, with arehed white doorway, and thin iron railings, and three big dormer-windows bulging furth just below the roof. People wouia point to them as they passed, and say to one another: “The Van Wag: five there, you know.” It was term- ed in those provincial days a great tuing to be a Van Wagenen. Ti!l the ‘exinning of the century the head of ‘the family had held open house here. He had been a colonel in the Revolu tion, and an intimate friend of Wash- irgton’s, and a devoted adherent of Hamilton, and a fieree abominator of Burr. Though an aristocrat by nature, he often tertured his wife through the indiscrimnate charaeter of his enter- fainments. She did not believe in al- jcwing any guest to cross the threshold ot their plain and simple abode who could not boast the clearest Knicker tocker birth. She has been a Swart- wout before her marriage, and her mother had been a_ Livingston, and | some of the Van Rensselaers were her near cousins. fFhe bore herself with an immense pride, and yet a certaQn | alt of graciousness toward those whom she esteemed her inferiors, and a fay, ish charity toward the poor, somehow | kept her from making foes. As a girl ! ehe had been very handsome, with pe eculiarly lovely auburn hair, and the gnost delicately modeled hands, of a Surpassing whiteness, When her hua- band died she immersed freyself in the deepest mourning, and suffered agon- jes of grief. It was even said that she might have died, toe, but for the cheer-

nens

ing offices of her son and only chiid, Livingston Van Wagenen, a widower with two little girls, Kate and Ma: eRaret

But within the next two years fate struck Mrs. Wagenen a second time her son, Livingston, the famous New York lawyer, being suddenly taken by death. The hig Broadway house, re- nowned for its gayeties and hospitali- ties, became a solemn monument, and

the two motherless girls came to live with their grandmother.

A dreary childhood they both had of it. Mrs. Van Wagenen was aTlictid

ty a trouble with her eyes which the eceutists of that declared to have by excessive we eping.

day unhesitatingly been brought about She was thie:t- ened with blindness for years, but theo menace kept hanging over her without actually rendering her sightless

She adored her grandchildren, and wet she reared them with creat strict- nese It was her desire that they should both marry with distinction. and sometimes she would sharply chide the eldest, Kate, for declaring tha: the never meant to marry at ail. Kat> Was small of stature and not in the lenzst pretty, thoush very gentle and | engaging in manuers. Margaret, on / the other hand, was blooming and | gtaceful, with liquid, sparkling blue | @yes and the same glossy auburn haw | which had been one of her grana ! mother chief charms, though every | thread of Mrs. Van Wagenen’s tresses | had turned white

Margaret loved her grandmother | even more dearly than did her elder | fister. Rut she was willful. sometimes recklessly vivacious, and often stealth- ily disobedient as well In her lith} year he became acquainted wiih a handsome young actur, named Ross Erskine, an Englishman, who had set the town talking of his poctic eyes and his eymmetric figure

Mre. Van Wagenen lived much In- doors, and her faiiing strength now prevented her from using over hér grandchildren the sime surveillance as of old Certain imprudent friends of ! Liarg t's had gone wiih h more than once to the theater where [oss Erskine played There had come a meeting between the young actor and his infatuated admirer All this Kat had concealed with tortures of « acer Passionately she had I ¢d her sister to break fcrever with the ycung adventcrer who » caj ated

never did weep again through six on feven succeeding years. Tales of dls- tress moved her, but they evoled no Hcr eyes would soften, Lut

“y never moistened “] perceive,” she said one day to Fate, “that I really am drag upon you. my dear. If that young woman of whom you have spoken to me will me and let me talk with her awhile ! Il may coasent to have her ; worn hin of a face stil lovely ar youthful. “It's I! Ii’s Margaret! Ara Christmas dsy is a day of good will ane@ good cheer'—a cay vw hen we should f rget our old grud-veées and offenses! - a day when we should forgive! J]'ve

bleak De

the | full of | | |

whirled, along Broadway parapets of the Battery Christmas Eve, of al other the year, foolish Mar garet took a mad and irrevocable step She eloped with Ross Erskine, leaving | a letter to her sister in which she im plored Kate to break the news to thel: | grandmother. i

one of Winds that snow, up

have svoken to cember blinding from the ice-bound On

times of

And on Christmas morning Kate | broke it. At first Mrs. Van Wagenen | started wilderedly upon her grand child, with her dim pathetic eyes

311, she drew herself up } that breathed strongly

realiz

Then with

a majesty

her patrician past

Never shall I look upon the ungrate ful young wretch again!"’ she erlea in the name of all the Van Wavenen: I. their head, their representative, dis

own her forever! Afte that poor Kate had to spring forward and catch her staggerine

away

mpletely

rm She fainted «

“Never shall I look vpon the 7 ; “

young wi Cy ageath nd on reviving wept torrents of fiers tears It was indeed a dolourous (nristmas for the girl wno watchea over her from morning till long past midnight. And on the morrow, when ;

she her grandmother's ;

she was pierced by the dis that the old had becon-: completely blind.

At first Mrs. Van Wagenen was very helpless. After a few weeks, however, grew habituated to her affliction As spring advanced she even went out of doors, arm in arm with Kate. They walked a certain distance up and down

again stood by bedside,

covery lady

she

Broadway, which was then a quiet street, with little danger at the cross- ings from any headlong vehicle thai might break upon them. “There gos | blind Mrs. Van Wagencn,” the neig*- bors would say, “with her devoted grandchild She actually wept her

sight away because her other grand4- child eloped with an actor.” Meanwhile Kate heard from her sfs- fer two or three times every month, but newer dared to whisper in Mrs. Van Wagenen’'s hearing a syllable con- cerning her. Margaret had promptly | become the wife of Ross Erskine, and had then gone with him upon the stage. She had not succeeded well,

nor, for that matter, had he. They were trying their theatrical fortunes in |{ cther towns. “He is very goo] to me,” always kept writing her sister, “and I can’t regret having j;narried

she

him. But at times we gre greadfully poor, and often the future leoks dis- mal enough. You would wonder at

this new life I am leading. People tell me I have talent, though I lack proper dramatic training. But I have learn- eé to disguise my voice, to merge my very identity in the various parts I play. Ross teaches me all he ean, though the theatres ag whigh we man- age to get engagements (ax fim fe¢- ribly with incessant changes of the

dills.” * * * And once she wrote: ‘Dear, darling grandmamma! Hew 1 regret losing her, and how i wov!ld jove to put my armg about her dear ;

| eld neck once more!"

Kate -would answer these letters, tut she never toid her sister of Mrs. Van j Wagenen's total blindness, fearing to deal Margaret fresh remorseful ‘pain. And as for this blindness, there wer

Wuasgenen.”

“There coes blind Mrs. Ven

one or two physicians, with Kate had talked rning it, fidently assertive that it measure be relieved.

But Mrs. Ven Wagenen would never receive their visits. “No,” she said, “that rush of tears put out the last fires of my poor, failing sight. I shall never see and I shall never weep again.”

And undoubtedly it was true that she

whom con- might in a

cone

again,

It's I!

heard you say that asain and ava'n trandmamma, evir since [ was a litthk

girl i'm

speaking in my own yoice now! you recognize it, don’t you?” “Yes, yes,” mut.ered Mrs. Vin Wac- eren, brokenly “And those player- iclks taught you, I suppose, to change it, and—and so deceive me!” Maresret Diskine caught her with-

“Oh, grandmamma, Kate's told you of my trouble! But I loved me, and was always good and true to me till I lost him! But I never forgot you I always longed to see you

loved him, and he

IN EVANGELEVE’S LAND,

ONE RESPECT IN WHICH LONG- FELLOW WAS STRICTLY

again. Grandmamma! I come to you

in sorrow and entreaty! will you not CORRECT.

take me to your heart—your little Mar- ene

garet that you used to treasure SO |Tides in the Bay of Fundy--Rising and

cearly'—and love me once again, and as iia: , sa

forgive me for doing what I could not Falling Thirty to Forty Feet Twice

help?” Day---l" euliar Sights and Scenes at the “Margaret. ’ Landing Places, The young widow sprang up from

her knees, and a long, siweet embrace JIn the Acid an land, on the shores of the Basin

followed. And while it lasted Kate glid- of Minas,

ed into the room, (she had not been the | Distan', secluded, still, the little village of

hast il), but only shamming!) and pre- (cand rs ;

sently both the grandchildren saw that {Lay in the fruitful valley, Vast meadows

. : stretched to the eastward,

tears were streaming from : the old | Givny the village its name, and pasture to

lady’s eyes. Margaret staunched therg # eke without naniber:

lovingly with her handkerchief. A ®_ Dikes tat the) arcs of the farmers had raised

as she did so a eat cry broke fre | w.th labor incessait,

Mrs. Van Wagenen Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated sea- “IT see you! I s you both!’ she ex- sona the fl» d-gates

claimed Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will It was true. On this er tae mend ows,

Christmas morn-

ing her sight (m yet distinct enough to seem a rious blessinz after those past years of utter blind- yess!) had returned to her. And from

fhat hour till th lay of death it never departed Both Kate and Mar- garet often begged hcr to see an ocey list and have + - iid what nature had so strangely lished But her answer was always the me~—and delivered with a ceitain soft humility which diifveread remarkab-y from the

meanor Such ag

remain,

cid-time chiil reserve of her d “No, my dar children, no! my poor sight now is, vo let it 1 the tears

I like to think that fa ter- rible pride took it from me, and that the tears of lov 1 pardon have at least partially given it back?”

CDGAR FAWCETT. Santa Claus,

throuch

The Story of

St. Nichols was traveling his diocese at a period when a grext famine had Criven the people to the verge of starvatio Cre night he put up at an inn kept by a certain mad who wes a ficnd incarnate, This loath- ly personage, tinding beef and mutton scarce and high pti ed, conceived’ ine idea of replenishing his larder with the nice, juicy corpses of children whom he kidnapped, killing and served up to his guests in al lIvarieties of succul- lent dishes. No had penetrated the mystery of how he aione of al! the

one

nejghboring bonifaces could keep his table well suprled with roasts and boiled meats, stews, hasnes and sav- ory soups. Put no sesner had a dish of chikt’s meat been served up to the saint than he discoyverea the horrible truth. He leaped to his feet, and

poured out a torrent of righteous aluse upon the cringing and fawning land- lord. And when the latter would deny his guilt, St. Nicholas went to the tub where the children were salted down. All that was necessary for him to do was to make the sign of the cross Cver the remains, and Ilo! three ehildren whg had been misisng for days arose, alivg and whole. Al Ithe people were struck dumb at this miracte. The chiicren were restored to thir mother, who was a widow. As to the landlord, h> was taken out and stoned to death, as he richly deserved to be.

This story, it will Le seen, does not aid us very materially. It is simply ene of a whole group gf legends jn which St. Nicholas appears as thé fricnd and benefactor of children, and in this respect only he resembles our Santa Claus. In all the characteristics

which modern painters and story tell- ers in England, in America ard in

Germany have bestowed upon the rubi- eund representative of Christmas he differs in toto from the slender and

even emacictcd mitre and crosten, whom the medjaevai painiers were fond of depicting. Fo the legcnds of St. Nicholas afford but a meagre clue to the identity of Santa Clius, ali'¢ indeed in name, but so totally unllke in other particulars. Gres’. yau expect to be a great ac-

and take anti fat, but it does no good." -Letroit Tribune.

YE CHRISTMAS PUDDING.

SSNS

Say

Inside,

“I don't believe I cen help it. TI dfe¢}

Longfellow’'s “Evangeline.

Whether or not ;stri thy accurate as regards historical facts in his Acadian story of Evangel- ine, he certainly had ‘the straight tip” lin the above bit of description. The ‘dikos of Acadia form one of its most remarkable f They are endur- ing: testimonials to the industry and

rmination of the residents of this ‘happy valley” 15) vears ago,

To comprehend their one n:ust visit the spot and observe the ef- fect of the famous tides in the Bay of Fundy. ‘These are of anextraordinary character, Twice a day the water in the Bay of Fundy and its tributaries risoxand falls from thirty to forty feet

in some places, where it is confined

Longfellow was

atures,

dit

‘

purpose

to v ry nerrow limits, toa still greater Leleht. It is claimed that it has reach- cd over s.venty feet. To understand this, take your map and look np the that portion of the carth’s surface, You will see that the iay of Fundy rurs up between Maine and New Brunswick on the one side an! Nova Scotia on the other. When the tide sets in what happ mnsis this: lacked by the whole tidal force of the Atlanitie ocean, it rushes into the wide mouth. anda vast volume of water is driven upthe bay. The highest tides occur at St. John, N.B., and at Digby, Annapolis and at other points in and near the basin of Minas, an estuary of the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia, Uncer certain conditions the Bay of Fundy affords one of the most singular endsublime sights imaginable. This when a strong wind is blow- ing up the bay and the tide is running out at the seme time. Then there is a battl> of wind at its mouth. A heavy south or east wind sweeps through this gateway and naturally tends to force the water in the same direction, Imag- ine the etect where the mighty tide is

configuration of

. ' Is tie cas>

running the contrary way. It is as if a thousand Johnstown thoods were emptying themselves through this {i.ty-mile channel into the sea and

Aeolus with ail his strength were try- inz to beat them back. At such times ‘there is a wild commot.on, and the man wuohas been on a stcamer trying te make its way through the boiling, ‘anzry wators has witnessed a sizht Which he will never forget. He has

Bay of Fundy, emptying directly into the basin of Minas. Goiny, one finds himself seated in the cars and apparent- ly almost on a level with the stream. Returning he is far above the water’s edge, the piers of the bridge standing gaunt and naked, the banks of the river rising in bluffs forty feet or more, while a narrow creck winds down the bed of the Avon toward the sea. Coming on through Acadia, he sees the view transformed ; where there was a rolling tide now there isan exposure of red- dish brown soil, cut up and made un- even by trickling rivulets. The tide is out, and this is the result. Asmay be seen from this, deal of tillable land is subject to over- flew in the land of Evangeline. The Acadians who dwelt there in the last century fully realized the value of their like the indefatigable Hol- went towork at rescuing the

What

soil, and, lande

land from the ocean’s clutches.

they accomplished Longfellow refers to |

in tlie

D kes that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor inecs-ant.

And they are there yet, miles and |

milesofthem. From the time one steps on board the cars at Annapolis until he leaves the Acadian valley at Windsor, he is not out of sight of them. The labor of building them must have been enormous. Yet their builders were simple farmers with no scientific knowledge and no object other than to Save ds MAanV aCrcs &8 possible from the inroads of the Necessarily the dikes had to be of s.utticient heizht and strength to resist the tremendous pres- sure of the Fundy tides. That they were adequate to the task is more than evident from the richly fiuited acres that have been reclaimed from the deep. It was no ordinary p ople that accom- plished that hereulean tasx.

The original Acadians are no more. In their place

sea.

Dwells another race, wth other customs and language.

Whether, as the poet implies, they were cruelly and unjustly deported, or whether their removal was a measure necessary to the preservation of the country’s peace and the rulers’ power, may not be argued here. But certain itisthat the Dikes of Acadia area standing monument to the endurance, deteymination and enterprise of the French inhabitants that is eioquent. in their favor. They not enly worked for themselves, but for the alien people, no less kindly and deserving, that now oc- cupies the land of Evangeline. The dikes built 15) years ago now “shut out the turbulent tide” and protect the meadows of the modern Acadians, who ij One seuse reap a harvest of others’ sowing, They gather many a ton of succulent hay, and many a bushel of golden grain and rotand potatoes from mendows redeemed from the sea by thcir predecessors 15) years ago,

Finished the Picture.

The painter Hawkins, at twenty years of age, was the center of accla- mation. But at the close of his life he is described as having lived in a fool’s paradise, content with himself, and

secn 2 contest that must give him new | fattening en the empty praise he had

‘ideax ef nature’s awful powcr and| won. The mischief lay in the fact that ‘make him realize how puny a thing he | he was an excellent boon companion,

is when such forces are unleashed, Many other cnrieys sights ape the consequence of this greatly fluctuating tide. Passcnzers on the steamers which ply the Bay of Fundy and connecting waters have an excellent chance to ob- serve them. The first glimpse is at astport, Me., where the steamer from LDoston Here the wharf is an odd-look’ng structure of piles. If the tide is in the steamer’s euavds are yoare ly ona level with the plank tlooring, lithe tide is the landing stage, which rises and falls with it, is far be- low the of the wharf, and pas- senzers on the upper deck of the vessel are just even with the dock’s edge. At Digby and Annapolis the sight is still stranger. Here at low tide the vessel js so mych below the pjer'g edge that the pasaengera aye obliged to climba v-ry steep incline to get ashore, When the tide is full, on the other hand, they have to leap back as they go down the inclined play? from the sfeame1’s gang- way; otherwise they might find them- selves tobogganing into Nova Scotia

territory with unpleasant alacrity. This peeuliarity of the Fundy tides hes given rise to a joke, which is cares iully preserved for the edification of visitors. It wasmade vearsago by the ouly humorist the maritime provinces ever produced, and consequently it is cherished with the utmost solicitude and repeated with awe-struck regard ior the precious production At: St. John the river of the same name de- bouches into the bay. Just before it docs so it tumbles over a ledge of rock fifteen feet high, ‘Phat is, it 0 tumbles when the tide is But when that extraordinary Fundy tide is in, the , waterfall] is obliterated and the current _ actually runs the other way and ves- sels sailup and over the fall! So the humorist aforesaid, pondering on this

i

stops.

our,

top

out,

|

; wonderful thing, dubbed the St. John!

j fall “the reversibie cataract,” and the joke remains until this day,

Other noyel effects, which bewilder

and perplex the visitor until he becomes

f accustomed to them and understands

thcir cause, will be observed travels about the country bordering on the Bay of F undy. is low and flat a change twice a day of thirty to forty feet and more in the level of the watcr must necevsarily alter- nately cover and unceyver a great area, The Acadian valley is low, and twice a day a large portion of it is bare or sub- merged according to the state of the tide. s these effects by passing throuzh the valley on the railroad. Going up at one hour he will observ:

as one

One sec

while in various directions stvetch mits jature scas, At Windsor the railroad | eresscs the river Avon on a fine iron

bridge and leaves the Acadian valley

to pursue its way over the hills te Hali-

| tion.

|

Where this country |

the streams full to the tops of the banks,

Ou one occasion he was asked by e My, Ackery, a mjermber gf parliament, to ageompany him and one or two others to Paris, the host promising to give him a holiday and pay all his ex- penses,

Hawkins objected. ‘‘I’m busy ona picture,” said he, *‘and I want to finish it for exhibition,”

Never mind that," yetarped Ackers. ‘Bring it with you and paint it there.”

Hawkins yielded, as he always did inthe end,and the picture was put into thecarriace. As they were driv- ing alonrs, Mr. Ackors ask>+1t»>b> al- lowed to look at it, and, wh n it was uncovered, he said: “What do you want for it ?”

“I shall want fifty pounds for it when it’s finished,” answered Haw- kk iis,

“Very well,” returned the member of purliament, “Vil give it to you, and I'l] finish the picture for you, too!”

With that he kicked a hole through the canvas, and the artist was thus set free for an undisturbed jollification.

Matataining Parllament Bulldings.

The maiytenance and repair of the structure of the Houses of Parliament, internally and externally, swallow up a iarge sum. Building operations cost every year £18,755, the renewal of fur- w ture £3.52), anlthe warming, ven- tilating, and lightiny of the buildings, £16,599.

‘The system of warming and venti- lating the Houses of Parliament is most elaborate, The air is pumped through pipes packed with cotton wool to cleanse it; it then passes through heating chambers in winter, and through cooling chambers in summer, before it is distributed by fans throuzh the building ; £2,200 worth of coal is consumed every year in working the machinery of this system of ventila- There is a resident enginee with a salary of £400, and a further sum of £5,009 is paid in wages in this departinent.

The coals supplied to the apartment: of the Lords cost £500, and to the Com- mons £1,200. The annual gas bill oi both Houses is £3,000; the bill for elee- tric lights, £1,890, and in addition tc the gas and electricity the use of oil lamps costs £1,25),

In this country Mrs. Eliza Striker, o! Spottswood, N.J., died in 1888 from a1 illness caused by cutting her third set of teeth, and four vears before, in 1834, Mrs. Theodeécia Gray, of Darien, Conn. who had been toothless for 30 years cut a whole new aet of even white tecth at the age of 99.

Gnats flying in compact bodies in the beams of a setting sun mean that the weather wil! be tine.

a great

(Oe

Casteria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher’s prescription for Infants -and Children. It contains ncither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantce is thirty ycars’ use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays fevcrishness. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd, cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. tecthing tz‘ ubles, cures constipation and flatulency. Castoria aszimilates thc food, regulates the stomach and bowels, giving hes‘thy and natural sleep. Case toria is the Childeren’s Panaceca—the Mother's Fricnd,

* Oastori2 is an excellent medicine for chi"- aren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its good effect upon their children.”

* Castoria is the best remedy for children of which Iam acquainted. I hope the day is rot far distant when mothers willconsider the re=1 interest of taeir children, and use Castoria in- s‘cad of the various quack nostrums which are d-stroying their loved ones, by forcing opium, morphine, soothing syrup and other hurt/ul agents down their throats, thereby sending them to premature graves.”

Dominion Coal Co's. Mines in C. B.,

Steamship Albert,

Schooner 6c

ifs ‘“ ‘“ “ ‘“ ‘6 s “ rT

What is

~~, XN

Castoria.

known te me.” Di. G. C. Oscoon, Lowell, Mass.

favor upon it.”

Da. J. F. KIncuELor,

--—-FROM

Castoris.

“ Castoria is so well adapted to ci! tren tha I recommend it assuperiortoany orescription

A. A. Arcern, M. D., 111 So. Oxford St., Lrvoxiyn, N. ¥,

“Our physici-as in the ch'liren's depart ment have spoken highly of their experi- ence in their outside practice with Castoria, and although we only have among our medical supplies what is known as regular products, yet we are free to confess that the merits of Castoria has won us to look with

Unitxp HospitaL anp Dispensary,

Atuen C. Surru, Pres.,

Coal! Goal! Coal!

Now Landing and t Arrive per

64

Maggie Bell, 116 “ ‘é

R, W. Smith, Lizzie C., —_. Carmena, ee «*

““ 50 “e ‘“ J. B. Fay, 4 $ Telephone, — = “

¢ 50 “c “ 106 “e “ 80 “ “

Albert P., Ellen May,

Alice Phoebe, 56 tons Sydney Screened and 50

Sydney Run of Mines,

which will be sold at veiy lowest rates whilst landing.

PEAKE BROS. & CO.,

Selling Agents Dominion Coal Company, Ltd. Charlottetown, October 26, 1895.

650 Tons Sydney Slack. if) ‘é

“ee

Gowrie “ Sydney

“ Screened. “ce “

Run of Mine. 6

“

Castoria rclicves

Creme de la Creme

av La Fayette |

CIGARS and CIGARETTES

Are for sale in every store in the city.

that you are smoking the finest.

Give them a trial and convince yourself |

sept24—dy & wiy tf

Manufactured by J. M. FORTIER, Montreal. |

for it.

December 11, 1895—135

AN ENGLISH SOLDIER

generally has a favorite whiskey which he calls for wherever he goes. English Garrisons have called

The Military Scotch.

Try it yourself and you'll always ask

Lawrence A, Wilson & Co., Montrea

For years

WILL GURE YOU

We guarantee Dodd's Kidney Pills to cure ary case of Bricht’s Disease, Diabetes, Lumb: go, I‘ropsy, Rheumatism, Heart Disease, Female Jroubles. hmpzre Blood—or money r-funded. Sold hy all deal rs in medicine, or oy mail on receipt of 1 rice. sec. per box, o- Six boxes $2.50,

DR. L.A. SMITH & CO., Toronto.

we can sell you Dodd's Kidney Pills at

he following prices, viz.:—50c. per box

six boxes for $2.50. Tothe trade—@4.00

-r dozen, or three dozen at $3.75 per lozen. Sent by mail to any address port

aid. GEORGE E. HUGHES,

may 29 Charlottetown.

MONTAGUE

Carriage Factory

We are showing this season a finer line of Sleighs than shown by ue heretofore. The assortment consists of

Single and Double Box Sleighs, Round Back, Square, ete.

Prompt attention to Repairs. Painting a specialty. Terms reasonable.

JOHN MoLEAN & SON. dec6—dy & wky

Fire Insurance.

The subscriber represents the following Fire Companies :—

“The Royal Ins. Co, of Liverpoo’,”” “the Phenix Co. of Brooklyn,” “The Sun Fire of London.”

The above Companies are possessed oy .mmense resources, and have a world-wide reputation for strict integrity and liberality in the settlement of claims.

JOHN McEACHERN, oct23—3 Agent.

ANNUAL MEETING.

Merchants’ Bank of P. £. Island.

The Annual General Meeting of the Shareholders of the Merchants’ Bank of P.E. Island wlll be held at its Banking House, Great George Street, on TUES- DAY, the 14th day of January next, 1896, at the hour of 11 o’clock, a. m.

Proxies must be left with the Cashier at least one day previous to the meeting.

J. M. DAVISON,

dec6—52 & wy Cashier.

Nickle Alarm Clocks

From now until Christmas we will sell our stock of Watches, Clocks and Jewelry at a big discount—20, 30 and 45 per cent. Now if you want to present your friends with nice pre- sents at a low price give us @ call.

Also, repairing attended to with punctuality and = war- ranted.

C. G. JURY,

decl2 N orth Side Queen Square.

Dividend Notice.

Mercuaxts Baxk or P. E.Istanp, Charlottetown, Dec. 2nd, i893.

Notice is hereby given that a half yearly dividend ut the rate of 8 per cent.” per annum on the capital stock of this Bank, has been declared payable at its Banking House, en and after January 2nd 1896. Transfer Book will be closed from December 19th ine , to 2nd Jan’y., 1696, both dates inclusive. By order of the Board.

J.M. DAVISON, Cashier.

Dec. 2nd—2aw & w.

RNEAS A, MACDONALD,

Barrister-at-Law.

OFFICE, GREAT GEORGE STREET,

CHARLOTTETOWN. Money to Loan. Fire and Life Insurances taken.

Agent for Credit Foncier Franco-Cana- dien, Lancashire Fire In-urance Co., Great Western Life Assurance Co.

dec6—26 &wy

which we application, or mail

requested,

month, 40 cents,

gti

You can judge of it from a sample copy

will be happy to give you upon

THE EXAMINER PUB. CO.

itt izis

Delivered at any house

to any address, if sent post paid to

Province.

Subscription Prices For Tue Dairy EXAMINeR & McCiurp’s MAGAZINe, both, one ycar, $4.50; half year, $2.25; three months, $1.15; one

ght... ¢ Yoo YS The Leading Monthly i a Ys {SP Js £ Monthly Magazines at Nominal Cost. Wi; a \i~ ~ i ( J wd |, Je Fi "4 meet : ee cClure’ ’ ; - Clure’s Munsey’s tt é 4 ; NAGAZINE — MAGAZINE ~~ tt tt ; This is far and away the leading on dan +t amongst the cheaper wnaetines a And Pir DAILY EXAMINER is ze ; articles are of the highest literary merit eee ie $475 pes year; half =e ? The stories are the very best obtainable. year, $2.40; three months, $1.20 ; rh \/ one month, 40 cents, Pe ‘ t

week, may have

any

City subscribers, by paying ten cents a either Munsey’s Magazine or the Delineator de- livered each month, and the Daily Exam- “ner left at their homes every evening.

THE EXAMINER PUB. CO

PETE yt ets

In city limits, or

address in the

McC lure’s or

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OU may have lost many things in your time, and, perhaps, never thought it worth Ten cents often finds articles worth huncreds of

while to advertise for them. times as much in value.

Next time you lose anything try an ad. in our Want Column. The lost article is usually brought to our office next

first time 1s generally all it costs. day.

Girl Wanted.—We do quite a brisk business in this line.

all it often costs a worried housekeeper to find a good girl, and restore peace in the