6
HE'S GOING TO.
lie hasn't <1on« much as yt,
In fact, hi' hasn't h.id a chance—
He's really tring hard to get
In a position to advance;
lie knows he ought to bo to school,
'Twould be the lo st thing he could do—
But wait awhile and just keep cool—
lie's going to.
He knows his ways arc hardly right;
In truth, they cause him some regret.
He's going to drop the boys to-night,
lie's making his last cigarette;
lie knows he ought to be a man.
He'd be much better so, that's true;
But don't get hasty with your plan—
He's going to.
Week follow.? week, time onward files;
Month follows month, the spring is
gone
The seasons change and summer dies.
While chilly autumn passes on.
The year is growing late and chill.
There's much our old friend ought to do,
But wait awhile and just keep still—
He's going to.
At last—ah, you can guess the last,
'Tis such as you have heard before;
The somber autumn long since passed,
The heavy winter well nigh o'er.
His sun of life is nearly set,
His years, perlnips his days, are few;
He ought to mend, but don't you fret,
He's going to.
'—Floyd I>. ltaze in Chicago Inter-Ocean.
D'ri and I
By IRVING BACHELLER
Author of ' Eb*n Holden." "Darrel of
the Blessed Isles," Etc.
Cw* M I
4Copyright, 1901, by I<othrop Publishing Company.;
CHAPTER X X.—Continu ED.
It was a fine day, and a ride to re
member. We had a warm sun, a clear
sky, and now and (lien we could feel
the soft feet of lite south wind romp
ing over us in the river way. Here
and there a swallow came coasting to
the ripples, sprinkling the holy water
of delight upon us, or a crow's shadow
WK HALTED, PEERING AT THE
GLOW THAT NOW SPRINKLED OUT
'J 11 ROL'GII MANY A PIN-HOLE
APERTURE.
plowed silently across our bows. It
thrilled me togo cantering beside the
nois> Rapides du Plats or the wild
footed Galloup, two troops of water
hurrying to the mighty battles of the
sea. We mounted reeling knolls, and
■coasted over whirling dips, and rushed
to boiling levels, and jumped foamy
ridges, and went galloping in the rush
and tumble of long slopes.
"Let 'er rip!" 1 could hear D'ri shout
ing. once in a while, as he flashed up
ahead of me. "Let 'er rip! Consarn
'er pictur'!"
He gave a great yell of triumph as
we slowed in ;i long stretch of still,
broad water. "Judas Priest!" said he,
as I came alongside, "thet air 's
rougher 'n the bog trail."
We came to Paleyville frith time only
for a bite of luncheon before dark.
We could see no sign of life on the is
land or the "Canuck shore" as we
turned our bows to the south channel.
That everting the innkeeper sat with
tts under a creaking sign, our chairs
tilted to the tavern-side.
I) ri was making a moose-horn of
birch-bark as he smoked thoughtfully.
When he had finished, lie raised it to
bis lips and moved the flaring end in
a wide circle as he blew a blast that
rang miles away in the far forest.
"Ef we heppeti t' git separated in any
way, shape er manner 'cept one," said
be, as he slung it over his shoulder
wich a string, "yo 'll know ptirty nigh
where 1 be when ye hear thet air
thing "
Vou said, 'iti any way, shape er
manner 'cepl one,' " I quoted. "What
do you mean by that?"
My friend expectorated, looking off
into the night soberly a moment.
"Guess 1 did n't. mean nuthin'," said
lie, presently. "When I set out t' say
suthin', don't never know where 1 'm
goin' t' land. (Jood deal luk settin'
.sail without a compass. Thet 's one
reason 1 don't never say much 'fore
women."
Our good host hurried the lagging
hours with many a tale of the river
and that island we were soon to visit,
once the refuge of Tadusac, the old
river pirate, so he told us. with a cave
now haunted by some ghost. W r e start
i r| for the shore near ten o'clock, the
innkeeper leading tts with a lantern, its
li-'ht flickering in a west wind. The
i. / was cloudy, the night dark. Our
3io:;l. lent us the lantern, kindly offer
ing i » build a bonfi'e on the beach at
11, to light us home.
"Careful, boys," «aid the innkeeper,
as we go! aboard. "Aim straight fer
th' head o' th' island. Can't ye see it
—right ever yer heads there? 'Mem
ber, they 's awful rough water below."
We pushed off, D'ri leading. I could
see nothing of the island, but D'ri had
better eyes, and kept calling me as he
went ahead. After a few strokes of the
padtile 1 could see on the dark sky the
darker mass of tree-tops.
"Better light up," I suggested. We
were now close in.
"Hush!" he hissed. Then, as I came
up to him, he went on, whispering:
" 'T ain't bes' t' mek no noise here.
Don' know none tew much 'bout this
here business. Do a' cai'late we 're
goin't' hev any trouble, but if we dew
—Hark!"
We had both heard a stir in the
bushes, and stuck our paddles in the
sand, listening. After a little silence
I heard D'ri get up and step stealthily
into the water and buckle on his
sword. Then I could hear him sinking
tlie canoe and shoving her anchor deep
into the sand. He did it with no noise
that, 50 feet away, could have been
distinguished from that of the ever
murmurir.g waters. In a moment he
came and h?ld my canoe, while I also
took up my trusty blade, stepping out
of the canoe into the shallow water.
Then he shoved her off a little, and
sank her beside the other. I knew not
his purpose, and made no question of
it, following him as he strode the
shore with measured paces, the lan
tern upon his arm. Then presently lie
stuck his paddle into the bushes, and
mine beside it. We were near the
head of the island, walking on a reedy
strip of soft earth at tile river margin.
After a few paces we halted to listen,
but heard only the voice of the water
and the murmur of pines. Then we
pushed through a thicket of small fir
trees to where we groped along in
utter darkness among the big tree
trunks on a muffle-footing. After a
moment or so we got a spray of light.
We halted, peering at the glow that,
now sprinkled out through many a
pinhole aperture in a fairy lattice of
piue needles.
My heart was beating loudly, for
there was the promised lantern. Was
I not soon to see the brighter light of
those dear faces? It was all the kind
of thing I enjoyed then —the atmos
phere of peril and romance —wild youth
that I was. It is a pity, God knows, I
had so little consideration for old D'ri;
but he loved me, and —well, he himself
had some pleasure in excitement.
We halted for only a moment,
pushing boldly through a thicket of
young pines into the light. A lantern
hung on the boiu;h of a tall tree, and
beneath it was a wide opening well
carpeted with moss and needles. We
peered oil into the gloom, but saw
nothing.
D'ri blew out a thoughtful breath,
looking up into the air coolly, as he
filled his pipe.
"Consarned if ever I wanted t' have
a smoke s' bad 'n all my born days,"
he remarked.
Then he moved his holster, turned
his scabbard, and sat down quietly,
puffing his pipe with some look of
weariness and reflection. We were sit
ting there less than five minutes when
we heard a footfall near by; then sud
denly two men strode up to us in the
dim light. 1 recognized at once the
easy step, the long, lithe figure, of his
lordship in the dress of a citizen, sav
ing sword and pistols.
"All, good evening, gentlemen," said
he, quietly. "How are you?"
"Better than —than when we saw you
last," 1 answered.
D'ri had not moved; he looked at
me with a sympathetic smile.
"1 presume," said his lordship, in
that familiar, lazy tone, as he lighted
a cigar, " there was—ah—good room
for improvement, was there not?"
"Abundant," said I. thoughtfully.
"You were not in the best of health
yourself that evening."
"True," said he; "I —I was in bad
fettle and worse luck."
"How are the ladies?"
"Quite well," said he, blowing a long
puff.
"Ready to deliver them?" I in
quired.
"Presently," said he. "There are—
some formalities."
"Which are—?" I added quickly.
"A trifle of expenses and a condi
tion," said he, lazily.
"How much, and what?" I inquired,
as D'ri turned his ear.
"One thousand pounds." said his
lordship, quickly. "Not a penny more
than this matter has cost me and his
majesty."
"What, else?" said I.
"This man,"he answered calmly,
with a Utile gesture aimed at D'ri.
My friend rose, struck his palm with
the pipe-bowl, and put up his knife.
"Kf ye 're goin' t' tek me," said he,
"better begin right off, er ye won't hev
time 'fore breakfust."
Then he clapped the moose-horn to
his lips and blew a mighty blast. It
made the two men jump and set the
near thicket reeling. The weird bary
tone went off moaning in the far
wastes of timber. Its rush of echoes
had begun. I put my hand to my
sabre, for there in the edge of the
gloom I saw a thing that stirred me to
the marrow. The low firs were moving
toward us, root and branch, their twigs
falling. Cods of war! it made my
hair stand for a jiffy to see the very
brush take feet and legs. On sea or
land I never saw a thing that gave
me so odd a feeling. We stood for
a breath or two, then started back, our
sabres flashing: for, as the twigs fell,
we saw they had been decorating a
squad of Hie British. They came on.
I struck at the lantern, but too late,
for his lordship had swung it away.
He stumbled, going to his knees; the
lantern hit the earth and went out. I
had seen the squad break, running each
way, to surround us. D'ri grabbed my
hand as the dark fell, and we went
plunging through the little pines, hit
ting a man heavily, who fell grunting.
We had begun to hear the rattle of
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, APRIL 20, 1905
boats, a shouting, and quick steps on
the shore. We crouched a moment.
D'ri blew the moose-horn, pulling me
aside with him quickly after the blast.
Lights were now flashing near. I could
see little hope for us, and D'ri. 1
thought, had gone crazy. He ran at
the onconurs. yelling, "Hey Rube!" at,
(he top of his lungs. I lay low in the
brush a moment. They rushed by me,
D'ri in the fore with fending sabre. A
lawny hound was running in the lead,
bis nose down, baying loudly. Then
I saw the truth, and made after them
with all the speed of my legs. They
hustled over the ridge, their lights
flashing under. For a jiffv I eonld see
only, here and there, a leaping glow in
the tree-tops. I rushed on, passing
one who had tumbled headlong. The
lights below me scattered quickly and
stopped. I heard a great yelling, a
roar of muskets, and a clash of swords.
A hush fell on them as I came near.
Then I heard a voice that thrilled me.
"Your sword, sir!" it commanded.
"Stop," said I, sharply, coming
near.
There stood my father in the lantern
light, his sword drawn, his gray hair
stirring in the breeze. Before him
was my old adversary, his lordship,
sword in hand. Near by the squad of
THERM STOOD JIV FATIIEIt IN THE
LANTERN LIGHT, HIS SWORD
DRAWN.
British, now surrounded, were giving
up their anus. They had backed to
the liver's edge; 1 could hear it lap
ping their heels. His lordship sneered,
looking at the veteran who stood in
a gray frock of homespun, for all the
world, 1 fancy, like one of those old
yeomen who lought with Cromwell.
"Your sword, sir," my father re
peated.
"Pardon me," said the young man,
with a fascinating coolness of man
ner, "but I shall have to trouble you—"
He hesitated, feeling his blade.
"How?" said my father.
"To fight for it," said his lordship,
quietly.
"Surrender—fool!" my father an
swered. "You cannot escape."
"Tut, tut!" said his lordship. "I
never heaid so poor a compliment.
Come in reach, and 1 shall make you
think better of me."
"Give up your sword."
"After my life, then my sword," said
he, with a quick thrust.
Before 1 could take a step, their
swords were clashing in deadly com
bat. I rushed up to break in upon
them, but the air was full of steel, and
then my father needed no help. He
was driving his man with fiery vigor.
I had never seen him fight; all I had
seen of his power had been mere play.
It was grand to see the old man
fighting as if, for a moment, his youth
bad come back to him. I knew it could
not go far. His fire would burn out
quickly; then the blade of the young
Britisher, tireless and quick as I knew
it to be, would let his blood before my
very eyes. What to do I knew not.
Again I came up to them; but my
father warned me off hotly. He was
fighting with terrific energy. 1 swear
to you that in half a minute he had
broken the sword of his lordship, who
took to the water, swimming for his
life, i leaped in, catching him half
over the eddy, where we fought like
madmen, striking in the air and bump
ing on the bottom. We were both
near drowned when D'ri swam out and
gave me his belt-end, hauling us in.
I got to my feet soon. My father
came up to me, and wiped a cut on my
forehead.
"Damn you, my boy!" said he.
"Don't ever interfere with me in a
matter of that kind. You might have
been hurt."
We searched tlie island, high and
low, for the ladies, but with no suc
cess. Then we marched our prisoners
to the south channel, where a bateau—
the same that brought us help—had
been waiting. One of our men had
been shot in the shoulder, another
gored in the hip with a bayonet and
we left a young Briton dying on the
shore. We took our prisoners to Paley
ville, and locked them overnight in the
blockhouse.
The channel was lighted by a big
bonfire on the south bank, as we came
over. Its flames went high, and made
a great sloping volcano of light in the
darkness.
Alter the posting of the guard, some
gathered about my father and began to
cheer him. It nettled the veteran.
He would lake 110 honor for bis defeat
of the clever man, claiming the latter
had no chance to fight.
"He had no foot-room with the boy
one side and D'ri t.' other," said he.
"I had only to drive him back."
My father and the innkeeper and
D'ri tnd 1 sat awhile, smoking, in the
warm glow of the bonfire.
"You're a long-headed man," said I, 1
turning to my comrade.
"Kind o' thought they'd be trouble," I
said D'ri. "So I tuk 'n ast yer father
t* come, over noesbatr with hef a
dozen good men. They got three more
et the tavern here, an' lay off 'n tIK-t
air bateau, waitin' fer the moose caul.
1 eal'lated I did n't want no more slid
in' over (here 'll Canady."
After a little snicker, he added:
"Hed all t' wits good fer me the las'
time. 'S a leetle tew swift."
"(lets rather scary when you see the
bushes walk," I suggested.
"Seen wlr.it wtis up 'fore ever they
ired a move," said D'ri. "Them air
bushes did u't look jest es nat'ral es
they 'd orter. Bet ye they 're some o'
tl.em bushwhackers o' Fitzgibbon.
(Jot loops all over their uniforms, so
ye c'u'd stick 'em full o' boughs.
Jerushy! never see nut bin's' joemiglit
lul ei.r'us 'n all my born days—never."
lie stopped a breath, and then added:
"Could n't be nut bin' cur'user 'n thet."
CHAPTER XXI.
We hiied team and wagon of the
innkeeper, and a man to paddle up
river and return with the horses.
I had a brief talk with our tall pris
oner while they were making ready.
"A word of business, your lord
ship," 1 said as he came out, yawning,
with the guard.
"Ah, well," said he, with a shiver,
"I hope it is not so cold as the air."
"It is hopeful; it is cheering," was
my answer.
"And the topic?"
"An exchange—for the ladies."
He thought a moment., slapping the
dust off him with a glove.
"This kind of thing is hard on the
trousers," he remarked carelessly. "I
will consider; I think it could be ar
ranged. Meanwhile, I give you my
word of honor, you need have no
worry."
We were off at, daybreak with our
prisoners; there were six of them in
all. We put a fold of linen over the
eyes of each, and roped them all to
gether, so that they could sit or stand,
a~> might, please them, in the wagon
box.
"It's barbarity," said his lordship, as
we put on the fold. "You Yankees
never knew how to treat a prisoner."
"Till you learnt us," said D'ri, quick
ly. "Could n't. never fergit thet lesson.
Ef I hed my way 'bout you, I 'ri haul ye
up t' ili' '.op o' Vbet air dead nine over
yender, 'n' let ye silde dewr.."
"Rather too steep, I should say,"
said bis lordship, wearily.
"Ye would n't need no grease," said
D'ri. with a chuckle.
We were four days going to the har
bor. My father and his men came
with us, and lie told us many a tale,
that journey, of his adventures in the
old war. We kept our promise, turn
ing over the prisoners a little before
sundown of the 16th. Each was given
a great room and every possible com
fort. I ai ranged soon for the release
of all on the safe return of the ladies.
In the evening of the 17th his lord
ship sent for me. He was a bit nerv
ous, and desired a conference with the
general and me. De Chaumont had
been over to the headquarters that dav
in urgent, counsel, lie was weary of
delay and planning an appeal to the
French government. Gen. Brown
was prepared to give the matter all
furtherance in his power and sent
quickly for the Englishman. They
brought him over at nine o'clock. We
uncovered his eyes and locked the door,
and "gave him a crack at the old Ma
deira," as they used to say, and made
him as comfortable as might be at the
cheery fireside of the general.
"I've been thinking," said his lord
ship, after a drink and a word of cour
tesy. I never saw a man of better
breeding or more courage, I am free to
say. "You may not. agree it is possi
ble, but anyhow, I have been trying 10
think. You have been decent to me.
I don't believe you are such a bad lot,
after all; and while I should be sorry
to have you think me tired of your
hospitality. I desire to hasten our plans
a little. I propose an exchange of —
of —"
He hesitated, whipping the ashes off
his cigar.
"Well —first of confidence," be went
on."1 will take your word if you will
take mine."
"In what matter?" the general in
quired.
"That of the ladies and their relief,'
said he. "A little confidence will
will —"
"Grease the wheels of progress?" the
general suggested, smiling.
"Quite so," he answered lazily. "Tc
begin with, they are not 30 miles away,
if I am correct in my judgment of this
locality."
There was a moment of silence.
"My dear sir," he went on presently,
"this ground is quite familiar to me.
I slept in this very chamber long ago.
But that is not here nor there. Day
after to-morrow, a little before mid
night, the ladies will be riding on the
shore pike. You could meet, them and
bring them out to a schooner, I sup
pose—if—"
He stopped again, puffing thought
fully.
"If wo could agree," he went on.
"Now this would be my view of it:
You let me send a messenger for the
ladies. You would have to take them
by force somehow; but, you know, I
could make it easy—arrange the time
and place, 110 house near, no soldiers,
no resistance but that of the driver,
who should not share our confidence
no danger. You take them to the
boats and bring them over; but,
first —"
TTo Be Continued.l
H.V I IIH till llH'lltg.
A man had bis purse stolen, and,
unfortunately, it contained a good deai
of money he could ill afford. One day
to his great surprise, he had a letter
from the ttiief, inclosing a small por
tion of his property, "the mysterious
letter r«n as follows: "Sir, ! stole
your mutiny, l-'emawsa is noring at
my conshense, f<o I send sum of it
back. When it nors agen, I will send
some maw."—Smith's Weekly.
Dyspepsia of Women
/\BSOLITELY NEEDLESS AGONY
Caused by Uterine Disorders and Cured by
Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound
A great many women suffer with a
form of indigestion or dyspepsia which
1 does not seem to yield to ordinary treat
ment. While the symptoms seem to,be
similar to those of ordinary indiges
tion, yet the medicines universally pre
scribed do not seem to restore the pa
tient's normal condition.
Airs. M / t
Mrs. Pinkham claims that there is a
kind of dyspepsia that is caused by a
derangement of the female organism,
and which, while it causes a disturb
ance similar to ordinary indigestion,
cannot be relieved without a medicine
which not only acts as a stomach tonic,
but lias peculiar uterine-tonic effects
also.
As proof of this theory we call at
tention to the case of Mrs. Maggie
Wright, Brooklyn, N. Y., who was
completely cured by Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound after every
thing else had failed. She writes :
"For two years I suffered with dyspepsia
which so degenerated my entire system that I
was unable to attend to my daily duties. I
felt weak and nervous, and nothing that I ata
tasted good and it caused a disturbance in my
stomach. 1 tried different dyspepsia cures,
but nothing seemed to help me. I was ad
vised to give Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound a trial, and was happily surprised
to tin 1 that it acted like a fine tonic, and in a
few 1 lays I began to enjoy and properly digest
my food. My recovery was rapid, ana in
five weeks I was a well woman. I have rec
ommended it to many suffering women."
No other medicine in the world has
received such widespread and unquali
fied endorsement,or hassuch a record of
cures of female troubles, as has Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound.
The Patient's Difficulty.
Doctor—But surely you can locate the
pain.
Patient That's just it, doctor; I can't.
I'm so thin that 1 can't tell whether it'i
in inv chest or in rav back.—New Yorker.
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Good Excuse for the Moon.
"Science has proven," said the profes
sor of astronomy, "that there is no water
«t all in the moon. Now, what do you
deduce from that?"
"That there is some excuse," replied
the freshman, "for its getting full so regu
larly."— Philadelphia Press.
A wise man said: "Yea, stick to your
flannels, even until they stick to you."
And to this let it be added, for the bene
fit of the impulsive: l'ut not too much
faith in preventives at 15 cents per,—ln
dianapolis News.
Tlip Japanese may not be great artists,
but they certainly know how to change
tuaps.—Chicago Chronicle.
DYSPEPSJA YIELDS
A NINE YEARS' VICTIM FINDS A
REMEDY THAT OURES.
For Two Years TooWeik toWork-A Dnztn
Doctors Had Tri«><l to Check Diitane,
Treatment That Succeeded.
All sufferers from weakness or disor
ders of the digestive organs will read
with lively interest the story of the com
plete recovery of Mrs. Nettlie Darvoux
from chronic dyspepsia which was
thought to bo incurable.
" To bo ailing for nine years is not a
very pleasant experience," said Mrs.
Darvoux, when asked for some account
of her illness. " For two years I was
critically ill and could not attend to ray
household duties, and at one time I was
so weak and miserable that I could not
even walk. My trouble was chronic dys
pepsia. I became extremely thin and
had a sallow complexion. I had no ap
petite and could not take any food with
out suffering great distress."
" Did you have a physician?"
" Yes, I took medicine from a dozen
different doctors, but without gettiug
any benefit whatever."
" How did you get on the track of a
cure?"
"A book about Dr.Williams'Pink Pills
was thrown in our doorway one day.
My husband picked it up and mid it
through carefully. lie was so impressed
by the statements of those who had been
cured by that remedy that lie imme
diately bought three boxes of the pills
and insisted on my taking them."
" Did they help you at once?"
" I began to feel better the second nay
after I started touso the pills and by the
ttmo I had taken the three boxes I was
entirely well. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills
can cure even when doctors fail, and
they cure thoroughly, for a long time
has passed since my restoration to health
and I know it is complete and lasting."
Tlio surest way to make sound diges
tion is togivo strength to the organs con
cerned. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills give
new vigor to the blood. No other rem
edy yields such radical results.
Mrs. Darvoux lives at No. 497 Sixth
street, Detroit, Mich. Dr. Williams'
Pink Pills are sold by all druggists in
every part of the world. Dyspeptics
should send to the Dr. Williams Med
icine Company, Schenectady, N. Y., foi
n new booklet entitled " What to l£ut
and How to Eat."
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}j IMPROVE YOUR ROADS with jjj
31 STEEL and WOOD SLUICING n]
u In
II The Steel pipe made of cold rolled, C]
¥1 heavy 6heet steel, *'vited so at to leave It fli
U smooth inside. T»e pipe is coTered with J]
XI a preparation that makes it rust proof, fli
u The wood pipe is made of staves matched l/l
J1 and grouyed, bound with heavy iron fU
TJ bands, treated chemically against rust 1/1
J] and coated with a preparation that will fli
11 stand climate and will practically ez- u]
i) elude moisture. The entire length is of fli
\J even diameter. Obstructions will not IT
J1 lodge in it. Manufactured in all aizes up fu
IJ to SIXTY INCHES. IT
J1 Write for catalogue and prices, or afu
U postal card will bring to you a represen- IP
Jj tative with samples of our goods. ju
What are Sluice Pipes Used For ? jjj
f] They are used on roads and highways
jj to convey water under the road bed from jfj
j{J streams and ditches to keen the road bed j"
jj dry and prevent washouts id heavy raius }{l
zl and showers. «
9 S
j] Schmelz & Co., ju
jj Coudersport, Pa. jj{
SSH P
j \\\> promptly ui.utln IT. 8. n:„i '^
l A'iul model, sketch or photo of j nventir ti for <\
/ free report on patentability For free look, (
p^BagBHMB3PWBBSgBE—B
madam Dean's j
A safe, certain relief for Btipprcnßed
Menstruation. Never known to full. ttafe! i
Sure! Speedy! Satisfaction Guaranteed
or money Ite funded. Sent prepaid for i
61.00 per box. Will send them on t rlf 1, to «
| be paid for when relieved. Samples I-ree. r
E UKITIDMIDICnCO.. Doi 74, U»CWTC». H. K
Bold in Emporium by L. |Tag|jart am K. O
Dodsou.
EVERY WOMAJSi
Jfotfgb 6ornetiiue3 needs a reliable
monthly regulating medicino.
jgwl Jl DR. PEAL'S
PENNYROYAL RILLS,
Are prompt, safe and cortaln In result. Tho gem*
toe (Dr. l'eal's) never diiappoiuC. JI.CO per
Bold by H. O. Dodson, druggirt,