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does not apply in your case. I do my painless extracting free exactly as I claim. When it hurts, charge for it. One dollar, please."

Blessings at the Front.

A very poignant story reaches Mr. Punch of London indirectly from the trenches. A gallant Tommy, having received from England an anonymous gift of socks, entered them at once, for he was about to undertake a

heavy march. He was soon a prey to the most excruciating agony in the big toc, and when, a mere cripple, he drew off his footgear at the end of a terrible day, he discovered inside the toe of the sock what had once been a piece of stiff writing-paper, now reduced to pulp; and on it appeared in bold feminine hand the almost illegible benediction:-"God bless the wearer of this pair of socks!"

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Work For Father.

The Yale freshman year was proving very expensive to father, recites the Evening Post Saturday Magazine, New York, so father decided to have a "heart-to-heart" talk with Johnny, home for the week end.

"Now, son," said he gravely, but affectionately, "your mother and I are spending just as little as we possibly can. I get up in the morning at half-past six and I work until after five. But, son, the money just won't go round at the rate that your expenses are running. Now, I ask you, as one man another, what do you think we had better do?" For a moment Johnny's head was buried in thought-and then he replied:

to

"Well, father, I don't see any way out but for you to work nights."

A Fallen Hero.

"When I first put this uniform on I said as I looked in the glass, 'It's one to a million

That any civilian

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My figure and form will surpass.' Perhaps the worthy middle-aged citizen who had just received a commission on the Governor's staff and was about to attend the Governor's inaugural ball did not know his Gilbert and Sullivan, intimates the New York Evening Post Saturday Magazine. But never mind. In the privacy of his chamber he donned his brand-new uniform, swathed his portly form with a sash, and buckled on his sword. Then, having duly admired the martial figure reflected by his mirror, he strode forth and began to stalk majestically downstairs. Midway of the flight, however, his sword got between his legs, he lost his balance, and finished his descent in headlong, ignominious haste-to the accompaniment of much noise. His good wife came running to the scene and in a tremulous voice inquired: "Oh, Sammy, did you hurt yourself?" The discomfited hero, struggling to regain his feet and his dignity, roared: "Go away, woman! What do you know of war?"

Trying to Make Good.

An old negro

was asked by a colored

brother what had killed the pet chameleon that he was in the act of burying.

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"Well, suh," responded the negro (Harper's AMERICAN TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH COMPANY

tells the story), "dat meelyon jest natcherly
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and it done turned pink. I den tried it on a
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de Lord, it done turn green. Den I laughed
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and I puts him on a piece of plaid goods-and
if dat fool meelyon didn't jest bust hisself
trying to make good!"

Horrid Uncle Dick.

A certain charming young thing of this town (identified as New York by The Times which repeats the story) has an uncle of whom she has always been, and still is, very fond; but just at present she is convinced that he is as catty as any woman she's ever known. She tells the story herself:

"Listen. You know I have always had an excessive affection for Uncle Dick, and have without exception told him everything-absolutely everything.

"Now, the fact that I have had so much trouble with-well, you know with whom

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A HIGH-SCHOOL STUDENT

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A Glimpse

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of Fairyland

There is nothing quite like the scenery of the Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence-nowhere in the world you will see just that translucent "blue" of the water or just that delightful maze of island-dotted river scenery.

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Booklet telling all about it, sent for 6c., to cover cost of mailing.

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Last year,

has never been a joke to me. when that affair with Tom was on, I wrote, of course, to Uncle Dick about it-Uncle was then in the West. Now, since he always liked Tom, he wrote me a beautiful letter, offering me all manner of felicitations and wishes for a. bright and prosperous future. I treasured that letter from Uncle Dick.

"Now, it isn't necessary for me to refer to my disappointment in Tom-his behavior justified any action on my part. I know that people say I threw him over and all that sort of thing, but, honestly, there was only one thing to do, and of course I did it.

"Well, I suppose it did seem a little startling to Uncle Dick when, a little over two months since the writing of his first letter, he received another from me, telling him of my engagement to Harry. But Uncle was terribly nice about it. He approved of my course in the matter, even tho he did prefer Tom to anybody else. And I couldn't complain of the letter Uncle sent me in reply to the second. It was just as nice as his first, altho he did give a hint of surprise.

"It was afterward that Uncle Dick showed himself most objectionable. Two weeks ago, when I found that, after all was said and done, it was really Clarence that I loved, I got a third letter from Uncle Dick-the brute! After acknowledging the receipt of my announcement he went on to say:

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'Permit me, my dear, to congratulate you on your approaching marriage to

"Then he inserted one of those star signs (what do you call 'em-asterisks?) and added in a footnote: 'Here insert the name of the happy man!'"

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A Good Standing Advertisement.

A few weeks ago a lady residing in a small town asked her husband, Major to call in at the dairy when passing to order some new-laid eggs. After making a brief demur the major yielded. A little later he called at the shop in question, quite a small and unimportant establishment in a back street. The subsequent proceedings are described by the New York American:.

Two or three minutes passed; then as no one came to attend him, the major gave a gentle knock on the counter. This had no effect, so a smart double rap was given, when a curly-headed youngster put his head round the door and lisped out, "Father's a-comin'." By the time "father" arrived the major was boiling with rage.

"What do you mean by keeping me here all this time?" he roared. "I am very sorry, sir," replied the man, "but, you see, it's like this. You're the very first well-dressed gent with a tall hat I've had in my shop, and as there were a lot of people passing by I thought what a good advertisement you was a-standing there."

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How She Classified Him.

Mrs. Atkins, dissatisfied with the number of times one man came to see her cook, as the Ladies' Home Journal discovers, spoke to her about it. "When I engaged you, Martha," she said, "you told me you had no man friends. Now whenever I come into the kitchen I find the same man here."

"Bress yo', ma'am," smiled Martha, "dat niggah ain't no fren' ob mine."

"No friend? Then who is he?" "He's ma husban"."

THE AFFAIR OF SUB-LIEU

TENANT BIMONT

[Stories of personal heroism among the French in this war are discouraged by the authorities. There is to be but one hero or heroine, it seems-La Belle France. This tale of Bimont, in Le Figaro, is an exception. But even this exception is made amusing rather than heroic. The heroism appears to be, as it were, an incidental affair.]

WH

HEN the war broke out, the Adjutant Bimont, of the chasseurs à pied, was in garrison in a frontier city. He was very happy.

Formerly he had campaigned in the Sahara and won his first gold lace at the taking of Igli.

Altho he was a soldier to the bottom of his soul, and altho he knew how to extract a conscientious joy from the instruction of recruits, he had not ceased to regret past combats, the night watches behind the sand shelters, the bold escalades and all the passionate excitement of surprise attacks against the enemy.

At thirty-four years he felt the same enthusiasm with which he had palpitated at twenty-one. He was going to fight, and, to borrow his unaffected language, was going "to follow his trade."

For three months he followed his trade in the Argonne. His soldiers loved him. They had confidence in him because nothing made him afraid. If he asked for four men to make a dangerous reconnoisance, ten at once presented themselves.

One time he headed a party to dislodge some mitrailleuses, which were posted twelve hundred meters away. He cleared the space by leaps, as did his men.

"They were aligned as on a maneuver field," said the adjutant. "At my command they leaped and then fell flat on the ground. They raised themselves to leap again. Really that day we made enormous jumps."

Of the rain of lead around him he has nothing to say. He is satisfied that his men were well aligned and made enormous leaps. To have courage is easy. To leap is difficult.

He took no precaution to sink his identity in that of his company. On the contrary, one would have said that he wished to make himself a marked man for the fire of the enemy.

He took off his coat before charging. It was new; he did not want to soil it. He charged in his tunic.

Afterward he lost his coat, his képi, his leggings and even his military account book. He had only some rags on when they placed him by force on a stretcher. But at the moment of which I was speaking he was still very solicitous about his "personal effects."

Occasionally the captain frowned and declared that the Adjutant Bimont was

A TALE OF FRENCH COURAGE

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not careful enough of himself. After- ! ward he wrote to him with a sort of grumbling sympathy:

"I have been deeply grieved at hearing of your wound. I shall add that I was not at all surprised. Your too exaggerated contempt for danger was bound to pull you into some affair."

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I

WANT to tell you of the affair of the Sub-Lieutenant Bimont (for he became quickly a sub-lieutenant) as he told it to me while in the hospital on the way to recovery:

"You have perhaps heard of St. Hubert. It is in the Argonne. Not even a hamlet, merely a hunting rendezvous. That is why they call it St. Hubert. A house, yes; but now there remains nothing at all.

"The Germans had scooped out trenches and installed themselves in them. We, naturally, had dug trenches opposite. From trench to trench we were forty meters apart.

"Shells rained. They were the bombs which the Prussians sent at us from the mine throwers, two hundred meters away. One saw them mount in the air and then, -pouf! they fell right on us.

"Then I watched. When I saw a bomb I said to the men: 'Lie low! This one isn't for us.' They lay low, and for the most part escaped. I remained outside most of the time, because I noticed that that encouraged the men. And I spoke

to them in a natural voice. Often I affected to examine little details, without an object except to have occasion to say a word to them, to show them that I had all my sang-froid. I had made the offer of my life. I said to myself: 'A bullet, and then one dies.' That seemed to me nothing at all. And you know the men have their eyes on the chiefs. And one feels himself responsible.

"For two days, the 25th and 26th of October, the bombs fell without stopping, night or day. And all that time the Germans were digging a transverse trench to come into ours. It was necessary to prevent that.

"I had two little perpendicular trenches dug. And out of them we fired at every Prussian who showed his head. We killed a great lot of them. They had enough of it, naturally.

"The third day they charge on us. The officer marches ahead--a tall fellow, much taller and heavier than I am. I bring him to the ground with a revolver shot and then beat down the soldier behind him. But a third sends a bullet into my head. I feel almost nothing-a sounding in the ear like the sound of a telephone, you know, when it is in use.

"A little corporal, who scarcely ever quitted me, a polite fellow, says to me: 'I am going to make you a dressing.' I answer: 'No, no. We have no time.' For I saw a little wavering among the Ger

How Advertising

Prevents Monopoly

B

EFORE the days of

nationally advertised trade-marks, compe

tition was based almost entirely upon the price of goods to the middleman. The consumer had nothing to say about it.

The richest manufacturer could crowd out all of his lesser competitors by reducing prices temporarily below cost-thereby forcing them to sell out to him or go into bankruptcy-then he had a real monoply and could cheapen quality and raise prices as much as he saw fit. When competition developed again, he could repeat the process-and he not only could do these things but he did do them.

There can be no monopoly in advertising, therefore to-day one manufacturer stands as good a chance as another to win favor for his trade-mark, so long as he backs up his advertising and his trade-mark with quality. And the trade-mark makes the consumer the deciding factor in all purchases, because it enables him to identify the goods. Trade-marks, and the advertising that makes them known, are the two things that do most to standardize qualities, permanently reduce prices and prevent commercial piracy.

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ASSOCIATION

mans, in consequence of the death of their officer. It was necessary to profit by it."

HE Sub-Lieutenant Bimont did profit

TH

by it-the best he knew how. The German ball had pierced the skull under the left ear and had come out some inches further back. For several minutes Bimont felt nothing but the caress of a cool thread under his jaw. Naturally he occupied himself very little with so slight a detail; he fired without let-up. But he was taken with a little vertigo. He sat down. His men bandaged him in haste. He took his gun and fired again. The Germans fell.

"From time to time I felt myself going. Then I seated myself, took my head in my hands and said: 'Leave me alone for five minutes.' Then I got up and gave my orders. Only, all my right side grew numb and I had also difficulty in speaking. At the end I could say only one or two words. 'Courage' or 'Hold fast,'-things like that."

"And how long a time did you remain there?"

"A little more than an hour. I was entirely covered with blood. At the least respite one chasseur or another put on a new bandage. I had seven or eight of them, one on top of the other. I looked like a package, so it seemed."

But all the bandages did not stop the blood, which soaked through them and continued to run.

Bimont now hardly saw clear. He still fired and tried to say some words, which his paralyzed tongue did not know how

to form.

The Germans, I think, must have looked with some fear on the monstrous red head of the fallen officer. They retired just as the Sub-Lieutenant Bimont sank down in a faint.

They go to hunt for a stretcher. They stretch him on it. He becomes faintly conscious, straightens himself up and takes. a gun from a soldier to begin firing again. This time the men use force on him and carry him away to the ambulance. It is already full of wounded.

"Oh," says the corporal who brings the stretcher. "There are some in there who can walk. You must make a place for my lieutenant."

"Useless," says a major; "he is done

for."

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You who manage business today cannot handle your problems as easily as did your grandfather. You have great factories, modern offices, accountants, advertising and sales experts, financial men and legal departments. Your own experience cannot reach into all these activities.

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He has this "big idea."

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You have wanted to make sure that there was authority be

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Alexander Hamilton Institute

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