6
[Copyright, ißg7. by F. Tennyson Neely ] •
CHAPTER I.
Riding at ease in the lazy afternoon
•unshine, a single troop of cavalry was
threading its way in long column of
twos through the bold and beautiful
foothills of the Big Horn. Behind them,
glinting in the slanting rays, Cloud
peak, snow-clad still, although it was
late in May, towered above the pine
crested summits of the range. To the
right and left of the winding trail bare
shoulders of bluff, covered only by the
dense carpet of bunch grass, jutted out
Into the comparative level of the east
ward plain. A clear, cold, sparkling
stream, on whose banks the little com
mand had halted for a noontide rest,
went rollicking away northeastward,
and many a veteran trooper looked
longingly, even regretfully, after it,
aud then cast a gloomy glance over
the barren and desolate stretch ahead.
Far as the eye could reach in that di
rection the earth waves heaved and
rolled in unrelieved monotony to the
%"ery sky line, save where here and
there along the slopes black herds or
scattered dots of buffalo were grazing,
unvexed by hunters, red or white, for
this was 30 years ago, when, in
countless thousands, the bison covered ;
the westward prairies, and there were j
officers who forbade their senseless
slaughter to make food only for the
■worthless, prowling ci.yotes. No won
der the trooper hated to leave tlie foot
hills of the mountains, with the cold,
clear trout streams and the bracing
air, to take to long days' marching over
dull waste and treeless prairie, covered
only by sagebrush, rent and torn by
dry ravines, shadeless, springless, al
most waterless, save where in un
wholesome hollows dull pools of stag
nant water still held out against the
sun. or, further still southeast among
the "breaks" of the many forks of the
.South Cheyenne, on the sandy flats
men dug for water for their suffering
horses, yet shrank from drinking it
themselves lest their lips should crack
and bleed through the shriveling touch
of the alkali.
Barely two years a commissioned of
ficer, the young lieutenant at the head
of the column rode buoyantly along,
caring little for the landscape, since
■with every traversed mile he found
himself just that much nearer home.
Twenty-live summers, counting this
one coming, ha(l rolled over his curly
head, and each one had seemed bright
er, happier, than the last —ail but the
one he spent as a hard-worked "plebe"
at the military academy. His gradua
tion summer two years previous was a
glory to him, as well as to a pretty sis
ter, young and enthusiastic enough to
think a brother in the regulars, just
out of West Point, something to be
made much of, and Jessie Dean had lost
no opportunity of spoiling her soldier
or of wearying her school friends
through telling of his manifold perfec
tions. He was a manly, stalwart, hand
some fellow, as young graduates go.
and old ones wish they might go over
again. He was a fond and not too teas
ing kind of brother. He wasn't the
brightest fellow in the class by tliirty
odd, and had barely scraped through
one or two of his examinations, but
Jessie proudly pointed to the fact that
much more than half the class had
■"scraped off" entirely, and therefore
that those who succeeded in getting
through at all were paragons, especial
ly Brother Marshall. But girls at that
school had brothers of their own, girls
who had never seen West Point or had
the cadet fever, and were not im
pressed with young officers as painted
by so indulgent a sister. Most of the
girls had tired of Jessie's talks, and
some had told her so, but there was
one who had been sympathetic from
the start—a far western, friendless sort
of girl she was when first she entered
school, uncouthly dressed, wretchedly
homesick and anything but compan
ionable, and yet Jessie Dean's kind
heart had warmed to this friendless
waif and she became her champion,
her ally, and later, much to her genu
ine surprise, almost her idol. It pres
ently transpired that "the Pappoose,"
as the girls nicknamed her, because it
was learned that she had been rocked
iu an Indian cradle and had long worn
moccasins instead of shoes (which ac
counted for her feet being so much
finer in their shape than those of her
fellows), was quick and intelligent be
yond her years, that, though apparent
ly hopelessly behind in all their studies
at the start, and provoking ridicule and
sneers during the many weeks of her
loneliness and home-longing, she sud
denly began settling to her work with
grim determination, surprising her
teachers and amazing her mates by
the vim and originality of her meth
ods, and before the end of the year
climbing for the laurels with a mental
strength and agility that put other ef
forts to the blush. Then came weeks
of bliss spent with a doting father at
Niagara, the seashore and the Point—
a dear old dad as ill at ease in eastern
circles as his daughter had beeg at
first at school, until he found himself
welcomed with open arms to the offi
cers' messrooms al the Point, for John
"Folsom was as noted a frontiersman
as ever trod the plains, a man old offi
cers of the cavalry and infantry knew
and honored as "a square trader" in
the Indian country—a man whom the
Indians themselves loved and trusted
far and wide, and when a man has won
the trust and faith of an Indian let
him grapple it to liia breast as a treas
ure worth the having, great even as
"the heart love of a child." Sioux,
Shoshone and Cheyenne, they would
turn to "Old John." in ttieir councils,
their dealings, their treaties, their per
plexities, for when he said a thing was
right and square their doubts were
gone, and there at the Point the now
well-to-do old trader met men who had
known him in bygone days at Laramie
and Omaha, and there his pretty
schoolgirl daughter met her bosom
friend's big brother Marshall, a first
classman in all his glory, dancing with
damsels in society, while she was but
a maiden shy in short dresses. Oh, how
Jess had longed to be of that party to
the Point, but her home was in the far
west, her father long dead and buried,
her mother an invalid, and the child
was needed there. Earnestly had old
Folsom written, begging that she who
had been so kind to his little girl should
oe allowed to visit the seashore and
the Point with him and "Pappoose," as
he laughingly referred to her, adopt
ing the school name given by the girls;
but they were proud people, were the
Deans, anil poor and sensitive. They
thanked Mr. Folsom warmly. "Jessie
was greatly needed at home this sum
mer" was the answer; but Folsom
somehow felt it was because they
dreaded to accept courtesies they could
not repay in kind.
"As if I could ever repay Jess for all
the loving kindness to my little girl in
her loneliness," said he. No, there
wasnodelicious visiting with Pappoose
that summer, but with what eager in
terest had she not devoured the letters
telling of the wonderful sights the
little far westerner saw—the ocean, the
great Niagara, the beautiful Point in
the heart of the Highlands, but, above
all, that crowned monarch, that
plumed knight, that incomparable big
brother, Cadet Capt. Marshall Dean.
Yes, he had come to call the very even
ing of their arrival. He had escorted
them out, papa and Pappoose, to hear
the band playing on the plain. He
had made her take his arin, "a school
girl in short dresses," and promenaded
with her up and down the beautiful,
shaded walks, thronged with ladies,
officers and cadets, while some old
cronies took father away to the mess
for a julep, and Mr. Dean had intro
duced some young girls, professors'
daughters, and they had come and
taken her driving and to tea, and she
had seen him every day, many times a
day, at guard mounting, drill, pontoon
ing or parade, or on the hotel piazzas,
but only to look at or speak to for a
minute, for of course she was "only a
child," and there were dozens of so
ciety girls, young ladies, to whom he
had to be attentive, especiallj- a very
stylish Miss Brockway, from New
York, with whom he walked and danced
a great deal, and whom the other girls
tried to tease about him. Pappoose
didn't write it in so many words, but
Jessie reading those letters between
the lines and every which way, could
easily divine that Pappoose didn't fancy
Miss Brockway at all. And then had
come a wonderful day, a wonderful
thing, into the schoolgirl's life. No
less than twelve pages did sixteen
year-old Pappoose take to tell it, and
when a girl finds time to write a twelve
page letter from the Point she has more
to tell than she can possibly contain.
Mr. Dean had actually invited her—
her, Elinor Merchant Folsom —Wino-
na, as they called her when she was a
toddler among the tepees of the Sioux
—Pappoose as the girls had named her
at school—"Nell," as Jessie called her
—sweetest name of all despite the ring
of sadness that ever hangs about it—
and Daddy had actually smiled and ap
proved her going to the midweek hop
on a cadet captain's broad clievroned
arm, and she had warn her prettiest
white gown, and the girls had brought
her roses, and Mr. Dean had called for
her before all the big girls, and she
had gone off with him, radiant, and he
had actually made out her card for
her, and taken three dances himself,
and had presented such pleasant fel
lows—first classmen and "yearlings."
There was Mr. Billings, the cadet ad
jutant, and Mr. Ray, who was a cadet
sergeant "cut on furlough" and kept
back, but such a beautiful dancer, and
there was the first captain, such a
witty, brilliant fellow, who only
danced square dances, and several ca
det corporals, all hop managers, in
their red sashes. Why, she was just the
proudest girl in the room! And when
the drum beat and the hop broke up
she couldn't believe she'd been there
an hour and three-quarters, and then
Mr. Dean escorted her back to the
hotel, and Daddy had smiled and
looked on and told him he must come
into the cavalry when he graduated
nctx June, and he'd show him the
Sioux country, and Pappoose would
teach him Indian dances. It was all
simply lovely. Of course she knew it
was all due to Jessie that her splendid
big brother should give up a whole
evening from his lady friends. (Miss
Brockway spoke so patronizingly to
1 her in the hall when the girls were all
talking together after the cadets had
I Bcurried away to answer tattoo roll-
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1900.
call.) Of course she understood that
if it hadn't been for Jessie none of
the cadets would have taken the
slightest notice of hf.r, a mere chit,
with three years of school still ahead
of her. But all the same it was some
thing to live over and over again, and
dream of over and over again, and the
seashore seemed very stupid after the
Point. Next year —next June—when
Marshall graduated Jessie, was togo
and see that wonderful spot, and go
she did with Pappoose, too, and though
it was all as beautiful as Pappoose
had described, and the scene and the
music and the parades and all were
splendid, there was no deliriously
lovely hop, for in those days there
could be no dancing in the midst of
examinations. There was only the one
great ball given by the second to the
graduating class, and Marshall had so
many, many older girls to (lanes with
and say good-by to ha had only time for
a few words with his sister and her
shy, silent little friend with the big
brown eyes to whom he had been so
kind the previous summer, when there
were three hops a week and not so
many hoppers in long dresses. Still,
Marshall had one dance with each, and
introduced nice boys from the lower
classes, and it was all very well, only
not what Pappoose had painted, and
Jessie couldn't help thinking and say
ing it might all have been so much
sweeter if it hadn't been for that odious
Miss Brockway, about whom Marshall
hovered altogether too much, but, like
the little Indian the girls sometimes
said she was, l'appoose looked on and
said nothing.
All the same, Mr. Dean had had a
glorious graduation summer of it,
though Jessie saw too little of him,
and Pappoose nothing at all after the
breaking of the class. In September
the girls returned to school, friends
as close as ever, even though a little
cloud overshadowed the hitherto un
broken confidences, and Marshall
joined the cavalry, as old Folsorn had
suggested, and took to the saddle, the
prairie, the bivouac and buffalo hunt
as though native and to the manner
born. They were building the Union
Pacific then, and he and his troop,
with dozens of others scattered along
the line, were bus}' scouting the neigh
borhood, guarding the surveyors, the
engineers, and finally the track-layers,
for the jealous red men swarmed in
myriads all along the way, lacking
only unanimity, organization and lead
ership to enable them to defeat the
enterprise. And then when the whist
ling engines passed the forks of the
Platte and began to climb up the long
slope of the Rockies to Cheyenne and
Sherman Pass, the trouble and disaf
fection spread to tribes far more nu
merous and powerful further to the
north and northwest; and there rose
above the hordes of warriors a chief
Be made her Uke bis arm.
whose name became the synonym for
deep-rooted and determined hostility
to the whites —Machpealota (Red
Cloud) —and old John Folsom, he whom
the Indians loved and trusted, grew
anxious and troubled, and went from
post to post with words of warning on
his tongue.
"Gentlemen," he said to the commis
sioners who came to treat with the
Sioux whose hunting grounds adjoined
the line of the railway, "it's all very
well to have peace with these people
here. It is wise to cultivate the friend
ship of such chiefs as Spotted Tail and
Old-Man-Afraid-of - His - Horses, but
there are irreccmcilables beyond them,
far more numerous and powerful, who
are planning, preaching ivar this min
ute. Watch Red Cloud, Red Dog, Lit
tle Big Man. Double, treble your gar
risons at the postß along the Big Horn;
get your women and children out of
them, or else abandon the forts entire
ly. I know those warriors well. They
outnumber you twenty to one. Re
enforce your garrisons without delay
or get out of that country, one of the
two. Draw everything south of the
Platte while yet there is time."
But wiseacres at Washington said
the Indians were peaceable, and all
that was needed was a new post and
another little garrison at Warrior Gap,
in the eastward foothills of the range.
Eight hundred thousand dollars would
build it, "provided the labor of the
troops was utilized," and leave a good
margin for the contractors and"the
bureau." And it was to escort the
quartermaster and engineer officer and
an aide-de-camp on preliminary survey
that C troop of the cavalry, Capt.
Brooks commanding, had been sent on
the march from the North Platte at
Fetterman to the headwaters of the
Powder river in the Ilills, and 1 with it
went its new first lieutenant., Marshall
Dean.
CHAPTER n.
Promotion was rapid in the cavalry
in those days, so soon after the war.
Indians contributed largely to the gen
eral move, but there were other causes,
too. Dean had served, little over a year
as second lieutenant in a troop doing
duty along the lower Platte, when va
cancies occurring gave him speedy and
unlooked-for lift. He had met Mr.
Folsom only once. The veteran trade*
had embarked much of his capital in
business at (iate City, beyond the Rock
ies, but officers from Fort Emory, close
to the new frontier town, occasionally
told 1 him he had won a stanch friend in
that solid citizen.
"You ought to get transferred to
Emory," they said. "Here's the band,
half a dozen pretty girls, hops twice a
week, hunts and picnics all through
the spring and summer in the moun
tains, fishing ad libitum, and lots of
fun all the year around." But Dean's
ears were oddly deaf. A classmate let
fall the observation that it was be
cause of a New York girl who had jilt
ed him that Dean had foresworn so
ciety and stuck to a troop in the field;
but men who knew and served with the
young fellow found him an enthusiast
in his profession, passionately fond of
cavalry life hi the open, a bold rider, a
keen shot and a born hunter. Up with
the dawn day after day, in saddle long
hours, scouting the divides and ridges,
stalking antelope and black-tail deer,
chasing buffalo, he, lived a life that
hardened every muscle, bronzed the
skin,cleared the eye and brain and gave
toeven monotonous existence a "verve"
and zest the dawdlers in those old-time
garrisons never knew.
[To Be Continued.]
A nnnKeroim Ilulliii'iiintlon.
I saw a shrewd and successful gen
tleman, who, on my being introduced,
said he was glad to have a talk with
a nerve doctor, for he thought there
was something wrong. Then he told
his tale, says the London Lancet, which
was that he was pestered' by gangs of
gypsies who appeared everywhere. He
said that he had) just come in from
chasing them in his garden, for wher
ever he looked out he saw them pulling
up his shrubs. I said; "But the shrubs
are not removed; how do you account
for this?" He said: "Well, it is hard
to tell, but I still feel that they do it,
and' when I awake in the morning I see
the same gypsies using my tooth-brush
and my hairbrushes; 1 jump up, only to
find that they have disappeared-." He
admitted the absurdity of the whole
thing, but yet he said he felt it was
true, and he must act tipon his belief
What might have proved a serious loss
followed the persistent hallucinations,
for before I insisted on his withdraw
ing from all business he had on one
bank holiday gone to his office and
looked through his private safe with
its very valuable securities; befori
leaving he thought he saw his son in
the adjoining office, and told 1 him to
put the things away and* to lock the
safe. The son was a hallucination, and
it was only by accident that the son
discovered the state of affairs before
the others arrived next day.
He Waa Armed.
In the cfays when highwaymen were
more numerous and successful than
they are at present, it was the common
practice of the natives to travel un
armed and submit tamely to robbery.
With foreigners a different sentiment
prevailed. The author of "Mexicans at
Home" tells a good story of a German
who traveled in that country. The
gentleman always carried arms, with
every intention of using them rather
than allow himself to be robbed. On
one occasion, when he was traveling by
diligence in the interior—he being the
only passenger armed—the coachman
suddenly pulled up and announced that
robbers were in sight. The German
prepared to defend the coach, but the
other passengers begged l him not to
do so, as this might compromise them.
Consequently, when the robbers came
up he jumped out, and going to the
side of the road, called out that they
were quite welcome to rob all the other
passengers, but that they would please
first take down his portmanteau and
place it beside him. This they did; and
when they had robbed the others, he
ordered that his portmanteau should be
replaced, which was done. He then
took his seat in the coach, and the jour
ney was resumed.—Youth's Compan
ion.
At l.argc.
"Do you mean to tell me that that
man-eating lion of yours got loose
and wandered out into the streets!"
"Yes," answered the proprietor of
the show; "and a lot of trouble he
made us."
"Did you have any difficulty in
catching him?"
"I should say so! It was hours be
fore we could get near enough to
lead him back to his cage. You see,
some of the bad boys of the town
had tied a tin can to his tail." —Wash-
ington Star.
Doable Itncketi.
"There seems to be smiles all ovel
your face this morning."
"No wonder! There's a new baby
down at our house."
"IPm!"
"And a new piano."
"Well, you'll get precious little rest
in the future."
"Don't you believe it! The baby
makes such a racket you can't hear the
piano; the piano makes such a racket
you can't liewr the baby." —Chicago
Daily News.
Simulation Unnecessary.
"You think I had better simulate in
sanity?" said the accused man.
"I do," answered the adviser.
"What's the best way?"
"Well, you're no actor, of course. It
I were you I'd get some war maps of
South Africa and repeat the geograph
ical names over and over. In the course
of a short time I don't believe you'll
have to pretend at all." —Cassell's.
Not Envy?
Rev. Dr. Fourthly;—My vacation? I
expect to spend it in Europe. My con
gregation has given me a purse of mon
ey and a three months' vacation for
that purpose.
Rev. Dr. Goodman (turning away
with a sigh)—l wish my congregation
was as keen to get rid of me &»
Chicago Tribune.
GENUINE STRONG MAN.
Canndinii Athlete 'I rumllra Ilriek,
WCIKIIIII;; 1300 Pound*, in u.
Heavy Wheelbarrow.
Joseph X. Fountain, who was born
in Quebec, Canada, but has been a
bricklayer and plasterer in Webster,
Mass., for some years, has consider
able standing as a strong man. One
of his most remarkable feats was the
wheeling of a load of 300 dry, hand
made brick, weighing a little more
than 1,200 pounds when the weight of
the wheelbarrow is counted, a dis
tance of 100 feet. An ordinary wheel
barrow load is 55 or 60.
The feat was performed on a wager.
Somebody said it could not be done;
somebody else said it could be done.
The man who claimed that the trick
A CANADIAN SANDOW.
(Trundling a 1,200-Pound Load a Distance
of 100 Feet.)
could be turned asked Fountain's
opinion. The Canadian thought for a
moment, and said he thought it could
be done. There were ready hands
which loaded the wheelbarrow, and a
good many bets as to the success of
the effort. When the last of the
bricks had been carefully piled on the
wheelbarrow Fountain, stripped to the
waist, bent to the handles. The mus
cles of his broad back and mighty
arms strained as he lifted them, and
he staggered slightly as he shifted his
grip and braced his feet for the start
off. The wheelbarrow creaked under
the load, but Fountain pushed it
along, now and then wabbling slight
ly to right or left, but never losing
his balance for the prescribed dis
tance, and one foot farther, in order
that there might be no dispute.
On another occasion, quite infor
mally. Fountain lifted a curbing stone
that weighed f>lo pounds. He did this
with comparatively little trouble.
Hut it was contended by some who
had lost money on his wheelbarrow
feat that there was a good chance to
get a grip and a purchase on a curb
ing stone. Afterwards, in harness.
Fountain lifted a weight of 1,115
pounds.
It is claimed that on November IS,
1881, Fountain defeated an "unknown"
from Meriden, Conn., in a lifting
match for the championship of New
England. Fountain keeps his muscles
in working order by swinging a dumb
bell that weighs 173% pounds, and ha
handles it with ease and positive
graee. lie weighs 145 pounds and
stands five feet four and one-half
inches. He is an all-around athlete.
FREDERICO DEGETAU.
Klr.it Delegate to the United State*
CoiiKTrexft Elected from the Is
land of Porto Kieo.
Federico Degetau, of San Juan, Por
to liico, has been elected the first
delegate to congress from the island
of Porto Kico to the United States.
The election was held several weeks
ago, and two tickets were in the field.
The republican ticket, on which Mr.
Degetau was elected, represented tho
FREDERICO DEGETAU.
(Porto Rico's First Delegate to the United
States Congress.)
old autonomist party, while the fed
eral party consisted of the democrats.
Mr. Degetau is a lawyer, having
studied in the university of Madrid.
He is a member of several scientific
and philanthropic societies and was
one of the founders of the.Societe
Francaise pour L'Arbitrage entre Na
tions. Mr. Degetau has written sev
eral books.
has always a republican in
politics and since ISB2 has taken ac
tive part in the principal events of his
country. He was on« of the four
commissioner sent to Spain in 1896
to ask for autonomy. He was elected
a deputy to the cortes in 1898, and is
president of the local board of educa
tion at San Juan.
Fii in 9-fleite rating Uomb.
Prof. Camplitvusen, of Amsterdam, is
out with a bomb generating fumes thai
will make .breathing difficult or impos
sible for a distance of 100 yards around
th« center of the explosion.
If Vo« nave
P:mple«, Tetter, Eczema or any Aiseane of
the skin or Mucous Membrane* that can ho
reached hv an outward application, it can
be cured by using Palmer s Lotion, the
great beautifier and Skin C'urer, which
(should be kept in every household ready for
any emergency. Palmer'# Lotion Soap pos
sesses all the medicinal properties of this
Lotion, and should be used in connection
with it, in preference to any other soap, as
it will greatly assist in curing all such af
flictions. If your druggist does not keep it,
send his name to Solon Palmer, 374 Pear'
Street,NewYork,and receive free pamphlet
of testimonialswith sampleofLotionorisodp.
DnlnK llit Beat,
Mrs. Fadallby—Yes; I'm going to the
club.
Her Husband—As you please, Maud; but
I'm sure I'm doing all I can to make home
attractive!— Puck.
I!e»t for Hie Uovrcla.
No matter what ails you, headache to a
cancer, you will never get well until your
bowels are put right. Cascarets help nature,
cure you without a gripe or pain, produce
easy natural movements, cost you just 10
cents to start getting your health back.
Cascarets Candy Cathartic, the genuine, put
up in metal boxes, every tablet has C. C.
stamped on it. Beware of imitations.
Friendly Crlttclaiii.
Artist—l painted that picture to keep the
Wolf from the door.
Friend—Well, hang it on the outside
doorknob, and the wolf won't trouble you.—
Chicago Daily News.
The Nickel Plate Koad.
Dining Car service on American Railroads
has undergone a number of changes in the
method of serving meals in dining ears. Many
leading roads are now serving from card*
a-la-earte, whilst on the other great trunk
lines the popular American plan of en
joying anything on the bill of fare and
paying the usual price of one dollar. la
recent years the "x\inerican Club" meal has
come to the front, by _which guests may
choose from a dozen or'lnore bills of fare,
neatly arranged in booklet form, ranging ia
price from 35 cents to SI.OO. This .alter
plan is adopted by the Nickel Plate lic-ad oa
its through express trains between Chicago,
New York City and Boston, except i n tha
dining cars of that line, a choice may b»
made from various club menus, or a se
lection may be made from them ill, at
the ( rice of the higher. In fact, it is c aimed
for tile Nickel Plate Road that its passenger
train service is equal to the best, and that
its combination dining car meals is an ex
clusive advantage to patrons of the Nickel
Plate Road.
A Brilliant Success.
A.—llow did your automobile journey
turn out?
B.—Beautifully! Although I nan over two
pedestrians and three bicycles and knocked
two wagons into a ditch, mv motor was
not at ad injured and I arrived just on time.
—Fliegende Blaetter.
When Yon Goto Florida
enhance the pleasure of the trip by go
ing over the Queen & Crescent Route and l
its connections via Cincinnati. Careful at
tendants look to your comfort. Your meals
(a ia carte) are not surpassed in the best
hotels. Your rest is unbroken, on the
smooth, rock-ballasted roadway. You are
not annoyed by change of cars. Fatigue
vanishes before some of the finest natural
scenery in America.
Winter Tourist Tickets are sold at re
duced rates. Why not write u.s about it?!
Only 24 hours Cincinnati to Florida. Di
rect connections at Port Tampa and Miami
at Steamers Wharf for Key West, Nassau
and Havana. We quote rates gladly. Hand
some printed matter sent free to inquirers.
W. C. Rinearson, Gen'l Pass'gr Agent, Cin
cinnati, O.
Testimony to Fit.
"You ought to be able to tell a straight
etorv about the affair," said the lawyer to
a witness in an embezzling case.
"I don't know about that," replied the
witness. "It was a very crooked proceed
ing."—Detroit Free Press.
There is more Catarrh in this section ot
the country than ail other diseases put to
gether, and until the last few years was
supposed to be incurable. For a great many
years doctors pronounced it a local disease,
and prescribed local remedies, and by con
stantly failing to cure with local treatment,
pronounced it incurable. Science has proven
catarrh to be a constitutional disease, and
therefore requires constitutional treatment.
Hall's Catarrh Cure, manufactured by F. J.
Cheney & Co., Toledo, Ohio, is the only
constitutional cure on the market. It is
taken internally in doses from 10 drops to a
teaspoonful. it acts directly on the blood
and mucous surfaces of the system. They
offer one hundred dollars for any case it
fails to cure. Send for circulars and testi
monials. Address F. J. Chenej r & Co., To
ledo, O. Sold by Druggists, 75c.
Hall's Family Pills are the best.
Mrs. Snaggs—"Oldi Closefist is dead, I
see." Mr. Snaggs—"Yes." "What did ha
die of?" "He died of enlargement of the
heart." "That old miser! What a joker you
are, Frank." —Pittsburgh Chronicle-Tele
egraph.
Does Coffee Agree with Yon?
If not, drink Grain-o—made from pur*
grains. A lady writes: "The first time I
made Grain-O 1 did not like it, but after us
ing it one week nothing would induce me to
go back to coffee." It nourishes and feeds t tie
system. Children can drink it freely with
great benefit. It is the strengthening sub
stance of pure grains. Get a package to-day
from your grocer, follow directions in mak
ing, and you willhaveadelieiousand healthful
table beveragefor old and young. 15cand 25c.
Dora—"l have my photo taken every thre»
fears. I think it is so interesting." Grseic
—"Gracious! Whatever do you do with
them all?" Glasgow Evening Times.
I am sure Piso's Cure for Consumption
saved my life three years ago.—Mrs. Thos.
Robbins, Maple Street, Norwich, N. Y.,
Feb 17. 1900.
Vengeance—Stabbing yourself to scratch
some one else. —Judge.
I Beware of Them I
M o
K There are two afflictions which X
Jf perhaps give the most pain td
Sand trouble, viz: sj
I Sciatica
5 a nd 5
Lumbago
X Both disable and cripple, V
V but 2
I St. Jacobs Oil 1
o <5
S is their best cure. x