1912-12-07 — Page 6

SKIN DISEASES

THE HONGKONG DAILY PRESS, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 7т#, 1918,

Overcome by the Wonderful Blood Purifying Properties of Dr. MORSE'S INDIAN ROOT PILLS. A person suffering from cruptions of the skin has much to endure. It la hot merely the discomfiture and irritation and painful sensation, but life is made miserable by depression of spirits. The liver is torpid and the kidneys are partially inoperative, and you feel languid and weak. The disease is in the blood, and when the system is not cleansed through the usual channels, Nature asserts herself, and forces portions of the impurities through the skin in the form of Pimples, Boils and Blotches. External remedies--powders, ointments, lotions-only alleviate; they do not get at the cause. Dr. Morse's Indian Root Pills get at the cause by removing the disease from the Blood. They cleanse the system by stimulating the Liver and strengthening the Kidneys, which filter the Blood and throw off the impure matter through the regular channels.

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THE BUILDING,

SEUMAS O'KELLY.

hot and fast through his veins. His eyes were glowing. He would not need to misko a map of the building. It was ali barned clearly into his brain.

out the wooden box. It had not been opened From under the bed of his cabin he pulled

since he had fetched it from the far lown. He held his breath as he throw open the lid. There they lay, the half-forgotten symbols of his old life. Worn mallets, chiselu, the hand of a broken hed with the plaster still cracked into it, short broad shovel for mixing mortar, a trowel, a spirit level, n plumb, all wrapped loosely in a light worn leather.

Martin Cosgravo walked up steadily to his holding after Ellen Konnody had read to him the American letter. Ho had spoken no word to the woman. It was not every day that he had to battle with a whirl of thoughts. A quiet man of the fields, he only felt corscious of a strong impulso to get back to his holding up on the hill. He had no clear idea of what he would do or what he would think when he got back to his holding But the fields scomed to cry out to him, to call. He took the mallets iv his hand and turned them about with the quick little jerks kim hack to their companionship while all that came so naturally to him. Strength for the wonders of the resurrection were break-the work had come into his arms. All the ing in fresh upon his life.

old ambitions which he thought had been Martin Cosgrave walked his fields and putstided with his early manhood sprang to life his flock of sheep scurrying out of a gap with | again. A a whistle. His holding and the things of his holding were never so precious to his sight. Ho walked his folds with his hands in his pockets and an easy solid step upon the sod. He folt a bracing sense of security.

Then he sat up on the mearing. The day was waning. It seemed to close in about his holding with a new protection. The mood grew upon him as the shadows deeponed. A great peace came over him The breezo stirring the grass spread out at his feet was whispering of the strange unexpected thing that had brokon in upon his life. He felt the splendid companionship of the fields for the minster:

As he lay in his bed that night Märtin Cosgrave felt himself turning over and over again the words in the letter which Reso Dempsey had sont to her aunt, Ellen Ken- nedy, from America, Tell Martin Cosgrave," the letter read, “ that I will be back home in Killing by the end of the Spring. If he has Bottle down." Beyond the announcement no wish for any other girl I am willing to that her sister, Sheela, would be with her for a holiday the letter "brought no other account." But what an account it had brought to Martin Cosgrave! The fields un- derstood the building would proclaim.

Early in the morning Martin Cosgrave went down to Ellen Kennedy to tell her what to put in the letter that was going back to Rose Dempsey in America, Martin Cos grave walked heavily into the house and put bis back ng against the dresser. He turned the soft black hat about in his hands. nervously and talked like one who was speak- Tell her," he said, ing sacred- words.

that Martin Cosgrave had no thought for any other person beyond horself. Tell her to be coming back to Kilbeg. Tell ber not to come until the late harvest."

Suddenly Martin Cosgrave looked down upon his cabin. Something snapped as his eyes remained riveted upon it. He leaped from the mearing and walked out into the old, his hands this time gripping the lapels of his coat and a cloud setting upon his braw. In the centre of the fields he stood, his eyes still upon the cabin. What a mean, pokey, ugly little devil of a hovel it was The thatch was getting scraggy over the gables and sagging at the back. In the front it was saddon. A rainy brown streak writing paper on

Ellen Kounedy, who sat over the sheet of the table, Icoked up reached down to the little window looking quickly at Martin Cosgravo as he spoke the like the claw of a great hird upon the walls.words. He did not give her time to ques He had been letting everything go to the tion him. bad. That might not, signify in the past, But now-

Rose Dempsey would never stand the like," he said to himself. "She will be used to grand big houses.

"I have my own reasons for asking her to wait until the harvest," he said, with some irritation,

He stayed at the dresser until Ellen Ken- nedy had written the letter. He carried it down to the village and posted it with his He turned his back upon the cabin downtown hand, and he went and came as gravely near the borkeen and looked up to the beit as if he had been taking part in some solemn of beech trees swaying in the wind on the ritual. crest of the hill. How did he live there most of his life and never see that it was a place fashioned by the hand of Nature for a house? Was it not the koight of nonsense to have trees there making music all the long hours of the night without a house beside them and people sleeping within it? In a few minutes the thought had taken hold of his mind. Limestone-beautiful limestone ready at hand in the quarry not a quarter of mile down the road. Sand from the pit at the hack of his own enbin. Lime from the Film beyond at Larch Hill. And his own two hands! He ran his fingers along the muscles of his arms. Then he walked up the hill:

That day the building was begun. Martin Cosgrave, tackled the donkey and drew a few loads of limestone from the nearby quarry. Some of the neighbours, who came his way found him a changed man, a gilent man with his long jaws set, a man in whose eyes a new light shono, o quiet man of the folds into whose mind a great purpose had come. He his powerful hand gripping the shaft to has straggled up the road with his donkey cart,

ten the stops of the slow brute, his strong limba bont to the hill, his head down at the. work. By the end of the week a pile of grey- blue stones was heaped up on the crest of the hill. The walls of the fields bad heen broken down to make a carway. Inte into the night when the donkey had been fed and tethered the neighbours would see Martin Cosgrave moving about the pile of grey-blue stones, sorting and picking, arranging in

PA little groups to have ready to his bauds. house he is going to put up on the hill," they would say, lost in wonder,

The

Martin Cosgrave, as he walked up the hill, felt himself wondering for the first time in his life if he had really heen foolish to have run away from his father's cabin when he had been young. Up to this he had always accepted the verdict of the people about him that he had been a foolish boy to strenuous work on the land. But Martin The spring came and with it all the wandering the roads to many far towns" Then he had struck his friend the building neighbours shook their heads at the sight

| Cosgrave went on with the building. contractor. He had been a useful worker of neglect that was gathering about his ahout a building house. At first he had holding. The neighbours said it was flying. carried hods of mortar and cement up

in the face of Providence when Martin. ladders to the masony. The business of the Cosgrave weaned all the lambs from the ewes masons he had mastered quickly. But he one day, long before their timo, and sold bad always had a longing to hold a chisel in them at the fair to the first bidder that one hand and a mallet in the other in face came his way. Martin Cosgrave did so. of stones. He had drifted into a quarry, because he wanted money and was in à The men did not like him there, After a hurry to get back to his building. little while he could not conceal his impati- caco with the mere dressing of coping stones to u pattern. Then he saw the man killed in the quarry. He was standing quite near to Martin, Cosgrave knew what the neigh- him. The chain of the windlass went and hours were saying about him. But what did the poor nina bad, no escape..

Martin he care? What thought had any of them Cosgrave had heard the crunch of the skull for the heart of a builder? What did any en the boulder and some of the blood was of them know heyond putting a spade in the spattered upon his boots. He was a man of clay and waiting for the seasons to send up tease nerves, The sight of blood sickened growing things from the seed they scattered him. He put on his coat, loft the quarry the feet of the rough stone in the band and by their hands? What did they know about and went walking upon the read.

It was the shaping of it to fit into the building, while he walked along the road that the the building which day, after day you a longing for his home came upon him. He rising up from the ground by the skill of tramped back to Kilbeg. His father had your hand and the art of your mind? heen koug dead, but by his return he had glorified the closing days of his mother's fe. Ile took up the little farm and cut himself off from his wandering life when he had fetched the tools from his lodgings in the town beside the quarries.

What call has a man to be destroying. himself like that?" the neighbours asked each other.

What could they in Kilbeg know of the ship that would plough the ocean in the barvest hearing Rose Dempsey home to him? For all their ploughing and their towing what. of a place had any of them led a woman- into? They might talk away. The joy of the builder was his. The beech trees that made music all day beside the building he was putting up to the sight of all the world had more understanding of him than all the people of the Parish.

By the time. Martin Cosgrave had reached the top of the hill he had concluded that he was not, after all, a foolish hoy to have worked in far places. The hand of God was in it," he said reverently with his eyes on the beech trees that made music on the his work from such an early hour in the Martin Cosgrave had no help. He kept to crest of the bill. He made a rapid survey morning until such a late hour of the night of the place with his koen eyes. Then he that the people marvelled at his endurance. apped out the foundation of the building But as the work went on the people would by driving the heel of his boot into the green talk about Martin Cosgrave's building in the sod. He stepped back among the beech trees fields and tell strangers of it at the markets. and looked out at the outlined site of the They said that the like of it had never been building. He saw it all growing up in his seen in the countryside. It was to be full ind's eye, at first a rough block, a more of little turreta and the finest of fancy, shell, a little uncertain and unsatisfactory. porches and a regular sight of bulging Then the uncertainties were lopped off, the windows. One day that Martin Cosgruve bailding took shape touch after touch was heard a neighbour speaking about the odded. Long shadows spread out from the "bulging windows he laughed & half trees and wrapped the fields. Stars came out bitter, half mocking laugh. "Tell them," in the sky.. But Martin Cosgrave never he said, "that they are out-stone tracery noticed these things.

windows to fit in with the carved doors. The building was growing all the time. There was a firm These cut-stone windows and carved doors grasp of the motion and meaning of the cost Martin Cosgrave such a length of time. general scheme, a realisation of what the they provoked the patience of the people. building would proach, what it would evolve Out of big slabs of stone he had worked them that no other building ever evolved, what it and sometimes he would ask the neighbours would proclaim for all time. The passing alabs.

to give him a hand in the shifting of these But he was quick to resent any of the day and the stealth of the sight interference. One day a stonecutter from could not claim attention from a man who the quarry went up on the scaffold, and was living over the dream that was fashion when Martin Cosgrave saw him he went ing itself in his mind, abandoning himself white to the lips and cursed so bitterly that to the joy of his creation, dwelling longingly these standing about walked away. upon the details of the building, going over When the shell of the building had been and, as it wore, feeling it in every fibre, finished Martin Cosgrave hired a carponter jealons of the effect of every stone, tracing to do all the woodwork. The woodwork cost the trend und subtlety of every curve, seeing money. Martin Cosgravo did not hesitate. how one touch fitted in and enhanced the other and how all caried on the rhythm and meaning and motion of the whole. He felt he could not fail. The thing cried out to him, rooted itself in his mind.

When he came down from the bill there was a spring in Martin Cosgrave's stop. Ho swung his arms. The blood was coursing

He sold some of his sheep, sold them hur riedly, and as all men who sell their sheep hurridly he sold them badly. When the carpentry had been finish the roofing cost. more money. One day the neighbours discovered that all the sheep had been sold. "He's beggared now," they said.

(Continued on Page 7.)

Catarrh of Digestive Organs.

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