SUMMER SALE AT G. H. STILES’.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 1065, 18 February 1913, Page 4

SUMMER SALE AT G. H. STILES’.

The militant suffragettes in the Old Country get very little for their pains except doubtful notoriety and varying terms of imprisonment. Their tactics do not appeal |q njahrlty qf hfew geamqd WQmcn, who adopt more peaceful means tQ secure their ends, And what might cause the window smashers considerable surprise; the pacific methods of their New Zealand sisters usually prove moat effective. Dear knows what would happen if an army of London suffragettes invaded Foxton on the eve of the opening of G. H. Stiles’ Stock Reduction Sale. It is pretty certain that their march would come to a sudden halt oppose dm mntfqws of tfye vybitg tjquse and fhaf a flank moyement would be made to investigate the,bargains displayed therein. Then the excitement would commence. Those ,yotele§s WQW®h pould’no more resist attacking the bargain citadel than they could refrain from throwing stones at Mr Lloyd George. On the other hand, Foxton residents will wait till Thursday morning at nine o’clock, when the doors will open on this, Great Sale. every department to ’ overflowing will quickly diminish in volume when these eager quick-eyed shoppers get down to business. Men folk, too* will find it hard fq temptation to jqip their wives, mothers and sisfers In an expedition to this Sale of Sales. Money saving will be the fashion in lasts. Thursday morning at nine will be a good time to walk down town to the White House.—Advt,

revealed its identity as the wife of John Bradley, the wealthy Lanca shire farmer, and told about' the will that it supposed to be buried at Bradley Fold, a town three miles from Bolton, and takes its name from John Bradley, who lived there and owned all' the land for miles around. '

Bradley' was in his prime when the Roundheads and Cavaliers were at each others’ throats, and was as stern, uncompromising a Puritan as Cromwell himself. He was famous for his taciturnity, rarely speaking to anyone but his wife, and in his old age, is said seldom to have spoken to her. When he drew up his will disposing of his vast property he bid it, and local legend declares that he told the secret of its hiding place to no one but Mrs Bradley. He made her promise solemnly, moreover, not to tell anyone—not even the other members of his family—where the will was secreted until he was dead. A few months afterwards he died, and all the rest of his kindred expected the widow to produce the missing will forthwith, but the old lady disappointed them. With a sterness equal to Bradley’s own she refused to tell where his last testament was buried, aud, alter many family squabbles and many futile searches for the will on the part of the wrathful relatives, the latter gave it up and scattered to different parts of the country. The widow promised that she would reveal the secret when she was dying, and not before. Then, suddenly, says the legend } she was stricken with paralysis, aud thus the only one who held the secret was dumb. * Since her death faint echoes of the story have passed down from grandfather to grandson in the district, but the mystery of John Bradley’s will was almost forgotten there when it was recalled in dramatic fashion by the arrival of Mrs Anderson from London. The latter says that for years she has had papers in her possession which prove her to be a lineal descendant of John Bradley.