THE OLD WIFE.
Py the bod the old man, wailing, sat in vigil
sad and tender,
Where his aged wife lay dying; and the fwi-
light shadows brown -
hlowly from the wall aud window chased the
sansot's golden splendor
Going down,
“tt imright 1” she whispered, waking, (for her
spirit spammed to hover
1,008 between the noxt world’s sunrise and the
bedtime cares of this},
And the old man, weak and tearful, trombling
a8 he bent above her
Answered, “You”
«Ave the children in!” she sskod him,
he tell her? All the treasures
Of their housohaold lay in silance many years
beneath tho snow;
Bes her heart was with them living, back
smong her toils and pl. asures.
Long ago.
Aed agein sho called at dew fall, in the swee
old summer weather, 8
‘Where is ttle Charlie, father?
Robert —have th -y come?”
“They sre safe,” the oli man
the children are together,
Safe at home”
faltered ‘all
than he murmured gentle soothings, but his
grief graw strong and stron er,
I'ii} it choked and stillod him as he held and
kissed hor wrinkled hand,
ir her soul, far out of hearing
fondest words no longer
Ucderstand
< mid
his
stil the palo tips stammerad gnestions, lulla-
bes, and broken verses,
ex's loving heeds,
While the midnight round the mourner
to sorrow’s bitter mercies
Wrapped its woeds,
Phere was stillness on the pillow and the
man listened lonely
ill they led him from the chamber, with the
burden on his breast,
or the wife of seventy
early ovo and only,
Tay ail rest
years, his manho
“Fare vou well,” he sobbed, “my Sarah
will meo:t the babes before
"Tis a i ttle while, for neithor «
long abide,
And you'll come snd call me soon, I k
and heaven will restore me
To your side.”
Brandon Ban
me;
an the part:
15
ho]
A REGISTERED LETTER
(*ROM THE FRESCH
“A wild night, Marcaille,”
sostmistress to the
wad just come in,
“Wild, indeed, Madame Lefevre,” re
plied Marcaille, ** "twill be bad going to
he midnight mass.”
As he spoke, he shook his old
aloak all white with snow, while the post
mistress sorted the letters
“Therel that is dope”
‘But warm yoursell before
oat.”
Marcaille threw down his leather bag
siack and shiny in spots, and came close
to the roariog stove.
He was a
nao. His face, browned by sun
wind, was as wrinkled as an old apple.
His nose was a thought too red, his eves
sparkled, his mouth was smiling; it was
s good face that called forth friendly
sords and cordial bandgrasps, His mus-
tache had a military ferocity, and on his
sive blouse with ils red collar a worn
scrap of yellow and green ribbon told all
Gis past—drawn 1n the draft, seven
years of service, re-enlisted, petty officer,
vounded at Alma, wounded at Solferino,
sonorably discharged. Then Marcaille
aad beea given the place of postman on
the Champaghole route—400 francs a
said the
letter-carrier who
out
she said
you start
total of 500 francs.
And for ten years, for 500 francs, Mar.
ciille mada twice a day, morning and
eveving, his round--Cize, Philemoine, le
Yaudoux, Chatelneuf, Maisonneuve and
Siane, a Circuit of seven leagues im all
weathers, With his 500 francs he took
care of 8 wife and four children: the
cidest was six.
But Marcaille had acquired the bad
habit of a little *‘taste,” as he called it.
In every village he bad old acquaintan.
ces, almost friends, In every j sn he
found, in exchange for the letter he
itn to put strength into his heart and his
lege. His nose grew a little redder; it
even lmppened onoe that he had lost a
fetter, mot a very important one fortu-
mately, but it might have taught him a
lesson, 4
“Here they are, Marcaille,” said Mad.
sme Lefevre, “‘two letters for Cize, one
tor Pillemoine, one for le Vaudioux—
nothing for Chatelneuf.”
“That's good,” said Marcaille. That
‘‘vothing for Chateloauf” spared him a
teague and a half of rongh walking.
fevre; “‘pay attention! A registered let.
Lar "
‘It is not the first.”
“No. but——"" and Madame held up a
great envelope, bristling with stamps wnd
notices, beside which spread out, like
riots of blood, five enormous red seals.
0 That's worth caring for,” said Mar-
taille, laughing. * Whose is it 1”
‘* For mousieur, the Mayor.”
“ Well, it will go through his hands,
Hever fear.”
‘‘ Not any more than through yours,"
said aa, 8) ou,
‘* No, but more of it will stick to his.”
With this philosophic reflection, Mar-
calle d the letter into his leather
bag, w he buckled carefully. He
put on his cloak and opened the door.
** And above all,” cried madame after
Lim, * don't on Christmas eve too
soon |"
** Don't be A, Hy Marcaille was
t.
ing wind blow ” little IN iriponit of
Bre, 4ry snow, arcaille jogged along
kn, muttering)
‘* Not much
for six and a
Christmas | A mouthful
ail, there are who hav »
'iulloy Maroaitle 5 cried veddanly s
“A glass of wine?" said the voice,
“Hum,” grumbled Marcaille to hime
self, ‘attention, registered letter!” Then,
aloud, “I'm late now; no, thunk you!”
The window of the “Pineapple” pub-
lic house! which had o Realy closed
again, and Marcaille, ou of the victory
over himself, went whistling out of the
village.
This was indecd courage. To refuse
a glass of wine in such weather, when
he had still three good leagues up the
mountain before him. But how light
journey. He felt light, but his bag
seemed heavier than ever, Never
bad it weighed so upon his shoulders,
‘This rascally bag,” he grumbled.
“It is that letter. What can be in it?
{If it should be bank-notes, judged by
the weight, there should be a fortune.
This rascally bag!”
| And still grumbling, ‘The rascally
bag!" and whistling at intervals, he went
dowe toward Pillemoine. Below him
stretehed the valley, lost in the shadow,
dotted here and there with lights, for
the night was almost black. But he
knew every village and every house, and
{in the blackness he recognized far away
the house of the ironmaster, with every
window lighted up. The joyous scene
I “Yes, yes,” murmured
t world. They have money, all they want,
| and with money one can do anything.
{ Just get a little and it's like a snowball,
{it rolls up bigger and bigger. Some
{ have all and others have none.
| they are by the fire, and 1, out here in
i the snow. And what they spend for
i thair amusement to-night I couldn't earn
ina year. And yet they suy God
: ht
ust.
had never envied any one. Why then did
he stop and gaze fiercely at the lights
thinning below him?
He shook himself together,
“Forward, Marcaille,” he cried, “for-
ward, march.”
But the wind whistled and moaned in
the pine trees like a crying baby, and
Murcaille passing in thought from the
ironmaster’s house to his own, saw his
four little ones gathered around their
mother, by a scanty fire of fagots; he
bread crust; he them
going to sleep, all four on the same little
wretched straw mattress, Oh! poverty,
it is hard! And to think that
tight here, in his bag ~————
“Registered letter!” he thought. “If
it should be bank Imbecile! It
for the Mayor. It comes from the
prefect It is probably only papers
and they register it and put on these big
r effect. Yes, but —if it
should be bank bills”
His face flushed red sat the thought that
“| haven't drunk
murmured, with a
saw
poverty,
cond
bills!
is
ure
senls for a grand
| had crossed his mind.
anything either,” he
' shudder.
He entered Pillemoine,
f a peasant’s house he knocked,
UOw opened,
“Oh! It is Marcaille,
He went in.
“What ails you?" asked
“You're pale. Have a
wine."
At the door
A win
Come in!"
the
ginss
man.
of
dull voice. In rebuckling his bag he had
felt the registered letter brush the tips of
his fingers,
The man had taken a glass, he held the
bottle all ready to pour.
No," repeated Marcaille,
out another word he hurried out.
ends of his fingers seemed to burn at the
remembrance of the red seals lank
bills, as many as there were there, how
many things one could buy with them!
He began to whistle, his breath failed
{ him and he felt his legs tremble beneath
‘him. Without intending to, without
he had taken out the letter and in the
{ half-light reflected from the snow he
saw, like drops of blood, the five great
red seals,
Quickly he took the letter and felt it
carefvily to find out its secret. But the
i envelope was thick and hard; the paper
i while the night wind whistled in
| Ars:
| “Thief! thief! thief!"
| “Who said Marcaille was a thief?” he
| ing that he was alone, he came to him
self and fell at the side of the road,
crouching, his head in his hands
| murmuring :
“This is frightfol!
| nothing.”
Slowly he re-opened the leather bag
slowly still he crossed the road.
{ hand held bim fast
{| which he would have hurried away.
{ The road to Siane was straight before
{ him; a half hour more and he should
| have finished his round, the letter would
| be given to the Mayor and he would be
| sdfe,
i Then he put the letter back in the bag
with an angry gesture, and marched on
witha measured step, striking with bis
heel and counting as be used to do in
the regiment wren the march was long,
“One, two: one, two.”
The regiment! Ah! how far away it
was at that time. How poor they seemed
to him now, the brave joys of the soldier,
which had made his heart beat for four.
teen yenrs, What a fool he was to enlist !
Fighting in the field, hard fare in the
camp, suffering in the ambulance. His
medal! Great things indeed. A bit of
ribbon on his blouse, How much better
he would have done to start out, like his
brother, to seek his fortune,
“It was by this road he went,” thought
Marcaille, as he started across the t
road to Geneva, whose white len to
his right stretched along by the forest of
Siane, “by this road.”
That long white road, he had only to
travel along it-—and he Stopped.
“The frontier,” he thonght, “is quite
near, Ten what is that? Tak.
ing time to go for the wife and babies,
one could be there to-morrow morning.
use of water | Bat, after
cdi on
Tine which lost itself in the night, he re.
peated in a low voice, ** An honest man.”
| His hand slipped under his cloak, un-
buckled the leather bag, and trembled
us it touched the five red seals,
“Yea: but if I were wrong,” he mut-
“if there were only papers in it.”
Marcaille,” he cried, ‘‘on
ve
Y Come,
with you!"
But no, he remained there motionless
| on that cursed road that led to the fron
i tier. And for the third time, carried
| away by irresistible temptation, he drew
from tie bag the registered loiter, say-
| ing:
{i “I must know what is in it.” i
i Very cheerfully with the point of his
| knife he raised one corner of the en
i velope enough to slip in his finger, and
{ draw up one of the papers it contained,
| The task was a delicate one, he must go |
| slowly, very slowly, in order to tear
{ nothing. If it were only re
| The night-wind whistied in his ears, |
“Thief ! thief ! thief |"
But he did not hear it. He thought |
{ only of one thing, to know what was in |
{ that letter. He had only one fear, of |
i mot succeeding or of deceiving himself, |
| At Inst he got hold of a corner of the |
| inclosure,
i
i
i
i
He took a match, lit it, and |
| by its light saw-—a bank note, i
It was really bank notes, His head
swam, The envelope was heavy, the
sum must be enormous. He
iE
: stopped,
‘I need not hurry. I must plan out
everything. A trifle spoils all some
times I will home, I will
Genevieve that we are going away.
will begin to ask questions. She
| want te know evervthing., Bah! I will
make up a story, I will tell her but she
will not believe me. Would she con
sent?! Yes, yes, she must. To be rich,
isn’t that before everything? Are there
not hundreds and thousands whom al!
the world bows down to, who begun just
this way?! Not to be caught, that is all,
We will put the babies into the little
§ cart,
: frontier. The gendarmes?
the gendarmes know
: know that Marcaille
man?”
He folded the
instead of replacing it in the
bag, slipped it into his pocket
Lis t hen with
out, “Forward,
are a rich man.”
3ut he had hardly taken a step for
ward when his voice died in his throat,
Behind him on the road he ha left
clear and
indistinot
fr
go
Weil, don’t
Don't they
an honest
med
is
letter, and
leather
It wai
a strident voice he cried
Marcail f
ie
pe,
recietered
wward! you
n
i just |
piercing i
murmur 4
’
he heard voices,
was like the
crowd,
“Christmas?
“Thief?”
the forest.
Terrified, he tried to leave the vols
: behind him, running faster and
faster, And then a dizziness seized him,
He knew not why he ran,
was after him, that was all But who?
His } the gendarmes, he
knew not which. Where was the danger?
Everywhere,
In the shadows, to
of
{ ried the voices
o8
replied the sombre depths of
I
Doe one
conscience or
the
right and to
which followed him: the branches bent
Terror at all these strange visions stran.
gled him. Wildly he rn along, the
i blood throbbing in his temples; then
suddenly fell heavily in a desd faint.
. * ® » > .
When he came to himself, he was iy
ing before the fire iu Ms own room.
' Genevieve and the children were kneel
ing crying around him. He did not see
them. The people of Biane, who, com
ing from the midnight mass, had found
him, were there also. He did sot see
them
“The letter! the letter!” he cried.
| With one bound he sprang to the leather
{ bag, which had been thrown on the
: ground in a corner. It was empty.
i “The letter! the
{ Then he remembered, and drawing from
i red seals—still unbroken-—he
out like a madman straight to the May
or's.
“A registered letter!” he cried,
{ing, “What a state you are in.
wouid think you had come to ask pare
don for a condemned criminal.”
i “‘But take the letter first,
| solled—1 fell down—]--I"
His lie straogled him.
“A drop too much,” said the Mayor.
“No, I had drunk nothing,” said Mar-
i reason that I have brought you my resig-
nation.”
smined the bank notes and glanced over
the accompanying letter,
** Your resignation?” said he. “Well,
“Ah! you know.
| “1 know you are rich, my good fel.
! low.”
Was this a joke? or had the Mayor in
some way looked into his conscience and
read the whole story! Marcaille became
pale at the thought,
“Rich?” he murmured.
“Why, yes, there is no doubt about
that, This letter tells me of the death
of your brother, Jean Marcaille, who
died at Toulouse, where he resided, co
| the Sth of this month. Accord
| ing to his last wishes all he possessed
| has been disposed of by Michael Dulac,
notary of that city, who sends to me the
amount of twenty-four thousand francs,
which I am instructed to turn over to
yon."
“Ah!” said Marcaille, overwhelmed,
as he took mechanically into his hand the
big envelope that the Mayor offered
him, ‘‘ Jean is desd, and I am rich ¢”
Then after a moment of silence, ‘it
makes no difference,” he murmured, so
low that the Mayor could not hear him,
** I should have been a thief, just the
Then turning he added, loud enough
this time, —
“* But I am still an honest man, thank
God!”
** No one ever doubted it, Marcaille,”
said the Mayor. *‘But take my advice
and be more careful. A glass of wine
THE JOKERS BUDGET. |
JESTS JAND YARNS DY FUNNY
MEN OF THE TRESS,
A Cranky Fatlent—Sure to Be a
Fire--Fhe Intrepid Baron--One
Plate—-Rather Hard, Ete, Ete,
A CRANKY T'ATIERT.
Docton (to patient)—1 do not wish to
trighten you, but if you have no objec-
brother Physician,
Irascible Patient—All right! If you
need any assistance in murdering me,
call in your accomplices, —[ Texas Sift
ings,
AURE TO BE A PILE.
“If you don't stop smoking in office
hours you'll get fired, that's all,” said
“It that quite just to one who does
his work faithfully?’ asked the scribe,
“Certainly. When there is so much
smoke there must be a fire. ”—{ Harpers,
THE INTREPID BARON,
“Did you ever come face to face with
a tiger when you were in India, baron”
asked the young woman,
“Once,” returned the traveller,
“And did you kill it?"
“No, madam; I am too humane for
that. I simply skianed him and let him |
{ Judge.
ORE PLATE.
*Y e+ are willing to work, 1 dare eay?"
Willing,’ mum? I'd work my laigs off
ef I could git a chance, Jest a leectle
more cream in the cawfy. Thanky.”
And you would do any kind of
honorable work, I presume?”
“Yeou'm, nuvthing that's in my line, 1
blieeve in every man vtickin’ to his par
fession,”
“May 1 ask what your profession isi’
“I'm an inventor, mam.”
“An inventor?”
“Yea'm,” reaching for a doushnut,
“inventor of a new process fur curin’
sunstrokes,” {Chicago Tribune.
A WIDEAWAKE HELATIVE.
Niece It's a pity, uncle, you visited us |
to-day when we've only got pork for din- |
ner. Now, if you were here to-morrow,
I could give you a fine dish of hare
venison,
Uncle—~All right, ay dear. Til
long my visit until the day after to mor
row. | Fliegende Blactter
Or
Dro
HE ENEW NINGLEY.
Watts Pretty good story Bingley told
this afternoon.
Potts—Yes. Too
{Indianapolis Journal
good to be new,
WILLING TO WAIT.
Student] want vou to measure me
for a pair of boots, but I haven't any
money just at present, |
Bhoemaker—Oh! that doesn’
I cau wait,
Student (delighted)—Really?
Shoemaker--To be sure; we will then
make the shoes next month — Drake's
matier
“I'm going to give a dinner to my
best friend to-night,” said Mawson
“Who is that?” asked Witherub
Sun,
RATHER ITARD,
Miss Budd—Do
vour visiting cards!
Cholly (pleased) — Why
Did you thiok I had a title?
Miss Budd — Yes. 1 thought
be ‘Master. Vogue,
you have "Mr." on
IMMATERIAL,
A fifteen-y in ap
pe irance and engaged in n hye
fashion, came i
ar-old girl, lopsi ied
ing
ro
gum
in 8 laborious &
‘
hecked the regular movements
1
wong
ery, and «
enough to sav in
HP
f her jaws just
distinctly to the grocer, in’ tea.”
“Eh? What do 3
it for? asked the grocer
“Poun’ tea, i
the girl, her jaws g ing again.
“TA pour 1 of tea. eh? Well,
ind do you want, bla green
“Um,” said the girl
2
to a sudden st "np
i who
O11 WAD
my mother,”
5 k or
don’t make n
nee: maw, she's color blind
THR CRXUISE ARTI
Lady-~Are you sure this
Fuglish breakfast tea?
Talented Clerk — Well, madam. 1 had
some of that tea at supper last evening
and I dreamed all night that [ was fall
off London Bridge New York
Weekly.
Ine
ing
TIT FOR TAT.
““Sevorita, will you favor
next quadrille?”
“Please ask mamma.”
The young gentieman,
the worthy matron's consent, came
to the fair damsel and said
“And now, perhaps, it would be
well if you went also to
permission,”
after obtaining
back
8%
SPEAK GEXTLY OF THE ERRIXG
She —~What do you think of the hero
ine of Harry de Reiters new story?
He
American girl! 1 woader
upon the public such a shallow,
ostentatious woman as a type! And I
wonder where he found his model
She—Mr. de Reiter says he studied me
for that character,
how he put
VERY APPROPRIATE.
“George, this is the night of the ball;
don’t you remember"
“Can't help it. I'm sick and can’t
go.”
“But, George, don’t be stupid. This
is to be a ball for the benefit
pital.”
ONLY A MATTER OF EXDURANCE,
They were climbing the stairs towards
sighed wearily and said:
“I am so tired. 1 feel ms if I should
die.”
To which her companion in so attempt
to be philosophical replied :
“Well, we'll all die someotime, if we
live long emough.” {New York World.
GOOD ADVICE.
May-—Is Mr. Foster as attentive as
ever io youl
Edith—Yes, but he’s a perfect riddle.
May-—Hadn’t you better give him up,
then?
AN INCORRUPTIBLE WITNESS,
Judge—8o0 the prisoner tried to in.
duce you not to give testimony. Tellme,
now, Www he proposed to close your
mouth.
Withesa—With two pair of old trons.
ers aud Shree tattered shirts. Flicgende
Bisette:,
SWEETS TO THE SWRET.
Mother (to her child, who bas just had
some sweets given her by a fellow passes.
r)-~What do you say to the gentleman,
abel?
Mabel-Have you got any more, please?
~«{ Punch,
HER EXCUSE,
He—80 you have been dancing with
that cad, Flashpot, while I've been to
get your ice!
She—Well, dear, I thought I would
Pet armed 4p v9 as to enjoy the ice, —
y.
HARMOKY IN THE HOUSEHOLD,
Mrs. Brace--Do and husband
ever disagree? you you
Mrs, C No, indeed! At lost my
husband never does. —{Puck.
KATURE AGAINST HIM.
“You have been walking about this
ERS woman foi
CRU¥
Boy
ITY TO ANIMALS
First Sav! our cat was
Second Boy {(gleefullyi-—Was she?
First Boy Yes, she was: an’ if yout
{| mother don't stop puttin’ poison mest in
| be r closet, I'll tell the Cruelty to An
‘or
1113
Hna«
| man on
DEPVPERDE OX THE
BOY.
A boy one day last week called on a
{ Jefferson avenue merchant concerning
JRE,
“1 want an off
! ply,
ice boy,”
ond
fs
for ake it I'd like to know if tl
if pre
said
hat depends on
had
before he
motion.”
the merchant the
here ov
had been
{ Detroit Free Pr
A CASE OF PIG
| How the Eloquent Counsel for the Do
feuse Got His Pay.
A Washington lawyer of considerable
promivence relates an amusing story in
vidental to the first criminal in
which ho was retained by the defense
He was then practising in a small town
| not far from Washington and the
{ was that of a character who had
| purloiued a {at porker the property of
his neighbor,
At first matiers looked bad for the ae
cused during the trial. but Mr. L.. the
lawyer, was most eloquent in his defense,
His speech abounded in rhetorical flowers
| and figures, At times Was even pa
thetic to such a degree that tears dimmed
the eves of the jury, while the prisoner
wept most copiously. The final outburst
| of his eloquence brought everything
{ around to a climax of triumph, the jury
| delivering the verdict of not guilty with-
{ out leaving their seats, although the evi-
| dence of the prosecution nded to show
a most conclusive guilt
The released was most profuse in
his words of gratitude, calling Mr. L.
| his preserver, the champion of his honor,
{ his liberty and all that life held dear to
{ him,
| Mr. I. acknowledged with becoming
| modesty his flood of thanks, but at last
! seeing no end in sight of these extrara.
{ gauces began to hint that a financial
| acknowledgment would be more in order
' “To be sure, to be sure,” exclaimed
i the client, eagerly, “I won't forget about
i that, and pay you handsomely, too. Say,
Mr. L., you be in your office to-night at
i2 snd I'll come around aud fix things
all right.”
“Twelve o'clock!” said the lawyer in
| astonishment. ‘Bless me! Why do yiu
| set that late hour?”
‘Never you mind, sir,” returned he,
“never you mind; I mean to pay you,
and pay you well. Don't forget; 12
o'clock, sure.”
Lawyer and client departed their re.
spective ways. That night Mr. L. sat
in bis small office awaiting the coming
of the man whose reputation he had
cleared, There was a hushed commotion
in the rear of his establishment promptly
at midoight, then a muffled knock at
the door. Mr. L. answered it,
“8h!” whispered the client, hoarsely,
“‘here | am.”
““But why do you make such a secret
of it!" asked the lawyer,
“Not too lond,” was the answer.
“Didu’t 1say I'd pay you handsomely ©”
“You did, indeed.”
“Weill, I mean to keep my word, Mr,
L., here it is. I brought you the pig!”
And there, in the grimness of the mid-
night's weird show, stood several hun.
dred pounds of stolen bacon, calmly
awaiting the transfer of ownership
{Washington Herald.
A AB AN
Flowers for the slek.
““ Flowers for the sick” is a recog
nized department in a florist’s business,
Society, which would be burdened to
pass a little time with an invalid friend,
metes out its obligation with a drive to
the flower market. *'I can always tell,”
said a florist, recently, ** whether a
tomer is interested in the sick
whom he orders flowers, or is merely ro-
turning some obligation or
Case
CRS
: si
OCH
he
i
man
-
ks
Xa
Mr. Geo. W. Cook
Of 81, Johnsbury, YL
Like a Waterfall
farent “uflering
After the Crip
Tremendous Roaring in the Head
Patw tn the SMaomach,
"ToC. 1 Hood & Co. lowell, Mans.’
“Two yours ago | hat ou severe atiack of the
Girly, whieh } na terribly weak and de.
siiltated condition, Last winter | bad another
tack and was agein very badly of, nay heaith
marly wrecked, My appetite was all gone, 1
hid no sirengin, (ell fired alt the Plime,
had dissgreeable rosring noises in my head,
like a waterfa il. | lind also severs headaches
snd
luff on
MIL Ne 3
Severe Sinking Pains
stock, medicines withoul ben
wr much about Hood's
fed to try it, and the re-
All the disagreeable
Cures
I am free from
imy i Lond
eft. until,
having heard
. I nonce
BTS Jue Y
gralify. ng
i is vers
Hood’s
fects of the Grip are go
a na aod aches, and believe Hood's Sarsaps-
rely curing my catsrrh. | recommend
Gro. W. Coox, 5. Johnsbury, Vi
MATER
jarilis
Fe
il Wm =
tto all”
. - rs ———
Head's PI Is cure Naoess, sick Headache, indi
potion, Billvuseess. Subd by all Sreggists.
Dr. Kilmer's
SWAMP-ROOT
M.H McCOY,
Yan Wert, Ohio.
Acted like Magic!
Suffered Years with Kidneys and Liver,
LIFE WAS A BURDEN!
Mr. MeOoy is a wealthy and influential ofts-
sa of Van Wert, and a man known for miles
sround, Boo what be say»:
“For years 7 was a terrible sufferer with Kid.
ney and Liver trouble, also nervous prog.
tration and poor health in general. ¥
was all run down and life a burden. 1 tried
physicians and every avallatde remedy, but
found no relief, Was indooed to give
Swamp-Root a trial, which acted like magic,
and to-day | am entirely enred and as good
6 man as ever, It ks without question the
greatest remedy in the world, Any one in
doubt of this metro ont sans Adress me below™
MM. H. No0OY, Van wert, Ohio, +
os Cuurantes — Use contents of Ones
Id if you sre sot benefited, Drage
AR will refund so yuu the price paid,
“Loyaitds’ Suide te Mea¥l™ free
and thousands of Tretimon
Conpallation fros,
Pr Limer & Co. Diarhanton X,Y.
At Druggista, B0e and $1.00 Slee,
wr “ — - ——
“August
Flower™
I had been troubled five months
with Dyspepsia. 1 had a fullness
after eating, and a heavy load in the
pit of my stomach. Sometimes a
deathly sickness would overtake
me. 1 was working for Thomas
McHenry, Druggist, Allegheny City,
Pa., in whose employ I had been for
seven years. [used August Flower
for two weeks. I was relieved ofall
trouble. I can now eat things I
dared mot touch before. I have
gained twenty pounds since my re-
covery. J.D. Cox, Allegheny, Pa. @
Unlike the Dutch Process
No Alkalies