rrV-TW ''" - -y-" imfmiv.m0uwwmqF'rm hiww-v 10 THE SOEANTON TRIBUNE-SATURDAY MORNTNGKAY 22, 180T. i r -tj wfnpf ' Che Dome Reading girck Tfie rw Secret r1 rier KJ&- ?.. . - Copyright, 1807, b y ' ' PAHT I. "We had boen traveling nil clay that Is 'to say, all but a two-hours' halt to rest ourselves and horses while the sun stood overhead and the stagnant air of the forest path had grown too hot and stifling for the free use of European lungs. Wo had started early while the eastern sky was lightening to the first rosy blush of the dawn, with our little party of four mounted men and two pack horses. Following our Mahom medan native guide, we had plunged Into the dim depths of the jungle. Hour after hour we had journeyed on through tho lonely forest path, our horse-hoofs making scarcely a sound on the mossy track, our spirits de pressed by the solemn silence of the primeval forest, our voices, when we did speak, hushed almost to a whisper by tho Influence of the scene. Gradually the heat had Increased as the sun rose higher and higher over head. There was not a breath of air stirring In the jungle path; not the faintest breeze stirred the canopy of leaves through which, here and there, the hot sunshine fell in great splashes of' gold upon the path. My friend Crawford was Just behind our guide, whose turban could bo seen gleaming some way ahead among tho Jungle shrubs that fringed the path, and I and the other native attendant, who led a pack horse bearing our tent, followed, the last of our party. I was In a bad temper, and perhaps I had soma excuse. I was tired; I was hot; I was more than a little disposed to ac cuse myself of being a fool to allow myself to be,persuaded Into going on a wild-goose chase to please Crawford. The thought has Just passed through my mind vhcn a sudden hall from my friend In front arrested me. "Come. on, Hall," ho shouted; "here we are at last!" ' "And about time, too," I replied, as I dealt my sluggish pony a kick In the ribs to encourage him to a rather live lier pace. In two or three minutes I had reached them where they had come to a standstill at the edge of the for est, and found my companion eagerly examining the view that lay before him. My first impulse was to follow his example, and my attention was instant ly arested by a great sheet of water which appeared to occupy most of the foreground. Behind it and on either side there rose the higher range of the western hills, now throwing shadows across both land and water at their feet. The lake Itself seemed to wind among their hidden recesses, while on tho left tho hills descended abruptly Into the water. On the side nearest to where we stood, however, the slppo was very gradual for perhaps half a mllo from the margin of the lake. An ob ject standing near the middle of the slope was clear and prominent. It was one of those abrupt masses of rock frequent on the southeast coast of the ffi- "COME ON, HAL!,, HERE WE ARE AT LAST!" Indian peninsula, which have usually been converted Into citadels to protect or overawe the cities that have plus- The other day a New Yorker started across Broad way. He was. i in the heyday of ambitious, vigorous youth. A pufl ;of wind blew an insignifi cant, almost invisible atom of dust in one of his eyes. It blinded him. He clasped his hands over his eyes nnd staggered on, only to be run down and killed by a cable car. That man's death was due to an insignificant trifle, nn atom of dust that was barely visible under 'the microscope. It is thus with health. Meti find that they are suffering from a trifling disorder of the digestion. It doesn't amount to anything, they think, and time is precious. They don't stop to correct it, but stagger blindly on and are run down in the heyday of ambitious youth by death. Neglected indigestion is the first cause of all manner of wasting diseases and all forms of nervous disorders. Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery cures nil disorders of the digestion. It invigorates the liver, imparts a keen, hearty appetite and causes tlie life-giving elements of the food to be perfectly as similated. It purifies the blood and builds healthy tissue. It is the great blood-maker, flesh-builder, and nerve tonic. It cures consumption, wasting diseases ana all disorders ot trie nerves. " I wars sufferer five or sir yean from iadlges. tloo," writes B. P. Holmes, ofCeffney, Spartan, burg Co., 6. C, "alto from sore stomach and couitint headache. I then tried Dr. I'ierce's Golden Medical Discovery and ' rieatant relied,' which in a few days gave me permanent relief." "The People's Common Sense Adviser" explains symptoms of ailment common to every family, and suggests remedies. It has several, chapters on woman's diseases and weaknesses. An edition in heavy paper covers will be distributed absoluelj free. Send the World's Dispensary Med leal Association, Buffalo, N. v., 91 one-cent stamps, to pay the cost of mailing only. Cloth binding may be bad for 31 stamps, v.iffl wni v LJ rv iff W&S 9gE! m rlw ?r A V w&m -. v r" By- OWEM flALL Hugh II. Lusk. tercd round their base. This one showed no signs of fortidcntlons, but the daik and frowning mass that rose nearly two hundred feet above the sur rounding land irresistibly suggested the purpose to which In a bygone age of violence It must naturally lmvc lent Itself. At last I turned to Crawford, who was still studying the scene, with tho question. "Well, do you think this Is the place?" "Yes," ho replied, without taking his eyes from the landscape, "this Is Mini hlrl llama, and these must bo the ruins of Arannpura." I glanced round once more and then i n ft 9 -4 &9h. M mz-'iisr Pl3- i Uf"lZ'0r' "IF WE DON'T DO IT TONIGHT, WE CERTAINLY SHALLi NOT IN A WEEK." I suggested that It would be well to find a camping ground for the night be fore the sun went down. My suggestion was accepted, and within a very short time we had got. our tent pltchedand our simple arrangements completed. It was not until this had been done, and we had seated ourselves while we waited for our teakettle to boil, that we found an opportunity to return to the subject which occupied our minds "Now," said Crawford, when he had settled himself to his own satisfaction and lighted his pipe, "now, old fellow, out with it. I see you've been longing to give mc the beneilt of your feelings for the last half hour. What's the mat ter now'" "Well," I answered shortly, "here we are at last. Now what Is the next stepV" Crawford took several draws at his pipe without replying and I took the opportunity of adding: "Didn't your fakeer .give you anything more precise to go upon? This seems a pretty large order." I may explain that a very dirty, and of course, proportionately holy fakeer was at the bottom of our expedition. Crawford had managed to keep him alive for some months a very doubtful advantage to anybody and so had be come heir to his ono earthly possession a small piece of a dirty brown sub stance which Crawford said was talu leaf, on which were scratched sundry helroglyphics. It was this nbominablo scrap of writing that had brought us here. Tho fakeer when dying had given It to Crawford as an Inestimable treas ure, saying that the place mentioned was In the ruined city of Aranapura on the shore of Mlnlhirl Rama, With in finite trouble Crawford had at last de ciphered the writing, and It had ended In his persuading me to join him In the attempt to turn the legacy to practical account. He now produced It from his pocket book, and proceeded to smooth it ten derly upon his knee. "No," he said, deliberately, "no, I can't say that he did to any great ex tent. The fact was that he had put it oft rather too long, and it was just about all ho could manase to say what he did. Rut, after all, one ought to be able to make it out from this," ' Confound it," I observed with a good deal of energy, "I wish the fakeer had gone quietly off before he got a chance of making you his heir." ' Thank you, old man, I hope to make you change your mind on that point before you're twenty-four hours older." "So soon as that, Crawford? Confe, that's better. I thought we were In for a week's hunt at the least." "No," ho said coolly, "If we don't 40 it tonight we certainly shall not in a week. Don't you remember I told you it must be at full moon?" "Ah to be sure, but you know that's only the regular dodge in all these cases, Isn't it? It lends an extra air of mystery to the business, you know," "It may be," Crawford said quietly, "of course there's nothing certain about it; at any rate the writing Is all we've got to go by, and I fancy It's clear enough on that point." There was a pause while he slowly traced the ir regular lines ot hieroglyphics with his finger. "All right." I said at last, "since we've, come so far of course we had bet ter see If there's anything in It. It's Just possible there may be, I supposs. What does tho precious document say for itself? last's hear It once more, Crawford, for the lost time of asking, before we put it to the proof." "Well," he -said, holding it up so as to get the full benefit of the fading light upon it, "I'm not a great Pall scholar, but this is as nearlv correct as I con gt It, and I fancy It's near enough for all practical purposes. 'In the placo of the slumber of Sondavalla, when the Regent ot the Night shall be seated on her highest throne, and shall gaio with uncovered face upon the world, in the black and ancient hall where Buddha dwells, tho glance of the Queen of Night shall re3t upon the secret plhcs whero He the hidden treasures of tho beloved one.' " "And that's the lot Is It?" I asked, ns Crawford laid down tho pleco of leaf, or whatever It ws. "Yes, and como to look ftt It fairly from an Indian point of view, that Is I dbn't know that you could expect more than that. It really is plain enough, so far as It goes." "It may be," I remarked, "but I'm hanged If I can seo It plain ns It Is. What do you make of It youroelt?" "Well, of couroe, the placo of Hie slumber of Sondavnlla, la only Pall for his grave. Everybody knows that tho moton ds cither Queen or Regent of the Night, according to taste In this part of the world. I have a sort of Idea that her highest throne Is only nn express ion thrown In to signify along with her uncovered face, the height of the full moon, and it Is pretty plain that there is somo arrangement by which tho moonlight falls on the spot whero tho treasure Is hidden, or was hidden when this was written. It wems all plain sailing enoungh if wo can only find the hall, which is, no doubt, an old Budd hist temple." As I listened to his explanation there seemed, almost for the first time, to bo something In it A hundred wild talcs of Indian treasure found through the slendetest clues came back to my memory as ho spoke. Meanwhile my eyes rested on the scene whero spread cut before my eyes, the ruins of tho forgotten city of tho long dead Son davalla. lay bathed In all the splendors of. the setting sun. I could see It, plain ly now. It was a ruin, Indeed. Shape less heaps that once had been vast buildings; formless mounds of rubbish all that was left of stately palaces and gorgeous temples cumbered the wJ'&cz -& ground for miles. Man's work was rep resented only by decay, but nature had been kind; vast trees shot up from amidst the heaps of ruined masonry, their pyramids of leaves glittering In the level flood of golden light; each crumbling wall was draped with a lux uriant wealth of leaf and flower; each shapeless mound of rubbish, was clothed with a living garment of green creepers. From tho spot where we had pitched our tent we could readily trace the course of what looked like one of tho great thoroughfares of the city of the past an Irregular avenue which led the eye insensibly onwards and upwards to tho frowning mass of overshadowing black rock whoso shad ow fell threateningly across the plain. My interest had unconsciously cen tered so strongly on the strange and suggestive scene that I had only been half conscious of the meaning of what Crawford had said, but his last words arrested my attention, and brought mo back to the practical consideration of our object and the possibility of car rying it out. If we could only find tho hall! Yes, that, after all, was the point at which It looked as If Craw ford's dream must fall, and our ex pedition end with no better result than a few days of discomfort recompensed only by the sight of the ruined city. But was it, after all, so hopeless? "Tho black and ancient hall," I mut tered to myself, as I followed the lines of heaps and hummocks that stretched back into the encroaching shadow of tho hills. Nothing remained that even Imagination could torture Into the semblarfce of a hall fit for the dwelling of Buddha, A larger mound than usual, indeed, rose hero and there, crowned with trees and buried in a mass of green leaves, but of a temple with Us stately walls and wldespreadlng courts, there was not a sign. Deeply burled, it might be, the wreckage, of the long centuries, one of these shapeless masses might contain the hall of Budd ha, and hide the treasure, twice hid den, of tho beloved; but if so no glance of the moonlight could penetrate the spot or disclose tho Jewels. It was ab surdthe whole thing was too hope less! (To Be Continued.) PROPOSED NEW CITY HALL FOR THE GREATER NEW YORK. "' . .. . "Ml "JLIIUJI" ' n 1 ji ' wjtmmmmimmmimmmumnwmmmM - - - , New York, May 21. If all goes well, New Yorlt that is. Greater iNew York will havo -a city hall that will make I'hlladol phlans pause and wonder why they could over see any beauty in their own gorgeous hotel de ville. The plans now In the pos session of Mayor Strong aro' those pre pared by the noted architect and cablret odlcer of Italy, Y, l. Santl, who drew them at tho request ot Premier CrUpI. who purposed to build a new capttol for Italy In Romo. Before Criipi's dream could bo realized his ministry had fallen and tho architectural dream ot 61gnor Santl wan THE TEN BEST The Death of the Flowers. The melancholy days have come, tho sad dest of U10 year, Of walling winds, and naked wctJds, and meadows brown and sore; Heaped in tho hollows of tho grove, tho autumn leaves lia dead; They rustlo to the oddylng gust, and to tho rotbit's tread; Tho robin and the wron nro flown, an! from tho shrubs the Jay, And from the wood-top calls tho crow through all the gloomy day., Whero are the flowers, tho fair young flowers, that lately sprang nnd stood In brighter light and softer nir, a beau teous sisterhood? Alas they all are In their graves, the gen tle tnco of flowers Are lying In their lowly beds, with tho fair and good of ours. Tho rain Is falling wnero they Me, but tho cold November ruin ' Calls not from out tho gloomy earth tho lovoly ones again, . . Tho wind-flower and tho violet, they per ished long ago, And tho brler-roso and tho orchis dies amid tho summer glow; But on the hill tho golden-rod, and tho aster In tho wood, And tho yellow sunflower by the brook In autumn beauty stood. Till fell the frost from tho clear, cold Heaven, ns falls tho ploguo of men, And tho brightness of their smile was gono, from upland, glado and glen. And now, when comes tho calm, ml'.d day, as etlll such days will come, To call tho squirrel and tho 'bee from out their winter homo; When tho sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still. And twinkle In the smoky light tho waters of the rill, Tho south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late ho bore, And sighs to find them In the wood and by tho stream no more. And then I think of ono who In her youth ful beauty died, Tho fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side. In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast tho leaf, And wo wept that ono eo lovely should have a life so brief", Yet not unmeet It was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. William Cullen Bryant. On a Bust of Dante. See, from this counterfeit of him Whom Arno shall remember long, How stern of lineament, how grim, Tho father was of Tuscan song; Thcro but tho burning sense of wrong, Perpetual care nnd scorn, abide; Small friendship for tho lotdly throng; Distrust of all tho world beside. Faithful If this wan imago be, No dream his, life was but a light! CouM any Beatrice seo A lover In that anchorlto? To that cold Ghlbellne's gloomy sight, Who could havo guessed tho visions camo Of Beauty, veiled with heavenly light, In circles of eternal flame? The lips as Cumao'a cavern cloe, Tho cheeks with fast and sorrow thin, The rigid front, nlmot morose. But for the patient hope within, Declare a life whoso course hath been , Unsullied still, though Still Bovere, Which, through the wavering days of sin, Kept Itself icy-chasto and clear. Not wholly such his haggard look When wanderlr g once, forlorn, ho strayed, With no companion save his book. To Corvo's hushed monastic shade; There, as tho Benedictine laid His palm upon the convent's guest, The single boon for which he prayed Was peace, that pilgrim's one request. Peace dwells not here this rugged faco Betrays no spirit, of repose; Tho sullen warrior solo wo trace, The marble man of many woes. Such was hii mten when first arose The thought of that strange tale divine, When hell he peopled with his foes. Dread scourgo of many a guilty lino. War to the last 'ho waged with all The tyrant canker-worms of earth; Baron and duke, in hold or hall, Cursed the dark hour that gave him birth; Ho used Romeo's harlot for his mirth; Plucked bare hypocrisy and crime; But valiant souls of knightly worth Transmitted to the roll3 of Time. Oh Time; whose verdicts mock our own, Tho only righteous Judge qrt thou! That poor, old exile, sad nnd lone, Is Latlum's other Virgil now Be'fore his name do nations bow; His words are parcels of mankind, Deep in whose hearts, as on his brow, Tho marks havo sunk of Dante's mind. Thomas William Parsons. To Helen. Helen, thy beauty is to mo Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy cIafsIc face, Thy Naiad airs have brought mo home To glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo! In yon brilliant window nieho How statue-like I see thee stand, Tho agato lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the. regions which Are Holy Holy Land! Edgar Allan Poe. never realized. Of course If the now clvlo capltol la modeled on the plans offered by Hantl the building will not be nearly so largo as that contemplated by Its creator, but the design will be preserved and New York will havo tho fltiest city hall In the world. His plans, as revised for a city hall, call for a. structure 200 feet long and 100 feet deep. It is two stories Above tho basement, and the style is in the Floren tine order, massive but beautiful. Tho primary courses of tho building are laid In either granite or marble. A wide stair way leads to a platform, from which ascend mlnoi staircases to a grand inte rior balcony. At either side of tho grund POEMS BY AMERICAN WRITERS. Selected by Richard Henry Stoddard. The Last, Leaf. I saw him oneo before, And ho passed by tho door, And again The pawment stones resound, As he totters o'er tho ground With his cane. They say that in his time, JSro the pruning knife of Time Cut htm down, Not a hotter man was found By tho crier on his round Through tho town. But now he walks tho streets, And ho looks at all he meota Cold nnd v. an. And ho shakes his feeble head That It seems as If ho said, "They aro gone," Tho mossy marble! rest On tho lips that ho has prcst In their bloom, And tho names ho loved to hear Havo been carved for many a yea On tho tomb. My grandmamma has saltf Poor old lady, sho Is dead. Long ago That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was llko a rOso In tho snow. But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Llko a staff; And a crook Is in his back, And a melancholy crack In 1 Is laugh. I know It Is a sin 1 'For mo to sit and grin At him here; But tho old, three-cornered hat( And tho breeches, and all that, Aro so queer! And If I should live to bo Tho last leaf upon tho tree, In the spring Let them smile, ns I do now, At tho old forsaken bough Where I cling. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Bedouin Song. From tho Desert I como to theo On a stallion shod with Are; And tho winds are left behind In tho speed of my desire. Under the window I stand, And tho midnight hears my cry; I lovo thee, I love but thee, With a lovo that shall not dlo Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of tho Judgment Book unfold! Look from thy window and seo My passion and my pain, I He on the sands below. And I faint in thy disdain. Let the night winds touch thy brow, With the heat of my burning sigh, And melt theo to hoir my vow Of a love that shall not dlo Till tho sun grows cold, And the stars aro oM, And the leaves of tho Judgment Book unfold! My steps are nightly driven By the fever In my breast. To hear from my lattice breathed Tho word Uiat shall give mo rest, Open tho door of thy heart. And open thy chamber door, And my kisses shall teach thy lips Tho lovo that shall fade no more, Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold! Bayard Taylor. Hymn. (Sung at the completion of tho Concord Monument, April 19, 183G.) By tho rudo bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled. Here onco the embattled farmers stood, And flred tho shot heard round tho world. The foe long since In silence slept; Alike the conquered silent sleeps, And Tlmo the ruined bridge has'swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps- On this green bank, by this soft stream, Wo set today a votive stone; That memory may their dead redeem. When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that mado thoso heroes dare To die, or leavo their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare Tho shaft we raise to them and thee. Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Arrow and the Song. I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not whero; For so swiftly It flew, the sight Could not follow It In Its flight. I breathed a song Into the air. It fell to earth, I know not where; For who has sight, so keen and strong, That it can follow tho flight of song? Long, long, afterward, In an oak, I found tho arrow still unbroke; And tho song, from beginning to end, I found again In the heart of a friend. Henry W. Longfellow. The Doorstep. Tho conferenco meeting through at last, Wo boys around the vestry waited, To see tho girls como tripping past Llko snow birds willing to bo mated. Not braver he that leaps the wall, By level musket flashes lltten, Than I, who stepped before them all, Who longed to see me get the mitten. caso is & sculptured figure. The second story Is severe, but Its severity Is en livened by bits of sculpture symbolizing clvlo affairs. Exteriorly and Interiorly tilgnor Santl has provided most ornate symbolism, tho crown ot whloh on tho second floor, is a group representing Co lumbia standing upon a chariot, drawn by six horses. Towers rise from the ends of the main facade, each bearing a seven sided clock dial. Three subordinate domes merge Into a main dome 150 feet high. The main dome Is a copy of Michael Angclo's famous St. Peter's. The cost of the building should be $5,000,000. but Greater New York cannot have too flno a city hall. But no, sho blushed nnd took my nnnl Wo lot tho old folks havo tho highway, And started toward tho Maplo Farm, Along a kind of lovers' byway. I can't remember what sho said, Twas nothing worth a song or story, Yet that rude path by which wo sped fleomed nil transformed and In a glory, Tho snow was crisp beneath our feet, The moon was full, tho holds were gloam ing; By hood and tippet sheltered sweet. Her faco with youth and health was beaming. Tho llttlo hand outsldo her muff, O sculptor, If you could but mould ltl So slightly touched by Jacket cuff, To keep It warm I had to hold it. To havo her with mo there alone, 'Twos lovo nnd fear and triumph blend- At last wo reached the foot-worn stone, Whero that delicious Journey ended. Tho old folks, too, wore almost home; Her dimpled hand tho latches fingered, Wo heard tho voices nearer come, Yot on tho doorstep still wo lingered. She shook her ringlets from her hood, And with a "Thank you, Ned," dlssom blod, But yet I know sho understood, With what a daring wish I trembled. A cloud passed kindly overhead, The moon was slyly peeping through it, Yet hid Its face, as if it said, "Come, now or never! do ltl do ltl" My lips till then had only known Tho kiss of mother and of sister, But somehow, full upon her own Sweet, rosy, darling mouth I kissed her! Perhaps 'twas boyish love, yet still, O listless woman, weary lover! To feel onco more that first, wild thrill I'd give but who can live youth over? Edmund Clarence Stcdman, The First Snow Fall. The snow had begun In tho gloaming, And busy all tho night, Had been heaping Held and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and flr and hemlock Wo.-e ermine too dear for an earl, And tho poorest twig on the elm treo Was ridged Inch deep with pearl, From the sheds new-roofed with Carrara, Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, Tho stiff rails were softened to swan's down And still fluttered down tho snow. I stood and watched by tho window, And the noiseless work ot tho sky, And the sudden flurries of snow birds, Llko brown leaves whirling by. I thought of a mound In swtiet Auburn, whero a llttlo headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did :oblns tho babes In the wood. Up spoka out Httle Mabel, Saying: "Father, who makes It snow?" And I told of the good All-Father Who cares for us hero below. Again I looked at tho snowfall, And thought of tho leaden sky. That arched o'er our first sorrow. When that mound was heaped so high. I remember tho gradual patience That foil from that cloud llko snow, Flake by flake, healing and hiding The scar of our deep-plunged woe. And again to the child I whispered: "Tho snow that hushcth all, Darling, tho merciful Father Alone can make it fall." Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; And she, kissing back, could not know That my kiss was given to her sister, Tolded closo under deepening snow. James Russell Lowell. A Song. Bring mo tho Julco of the honey fruTt, The large, translucent, amber hued; Rare grapes of southern Isles, to suit The luxury that Alls my mood. And bring me only such as grow Where fairest maidens tend tho bowers, And only fed by rain and dew Which first had bathed a bank or flowers. They must have hung on spicy trees In airs of far enchanted vales, And all night heard the ecstacles Of noble-throated nightingales. So that the virtues which belong To flowers may therein tasted be. And that which hath been thrilled with song, May givo a thrill of song to me. For I would wnke that string for thee Which hath too long In silence hung, And sweeter than all elso should bo The song In which thy praise Is sung. Thomrs Buchanan Read. FACTS WORTH KNOWING Several hundred sufTerers havo taken ad vantagcof tho liberal otler made by DR. J. S. BEHn, Rooms 6 and 7 Williams Building, Opp. Postofllce, Scrnnton, Pa. nnd have been cured of rheumatism nbso lutely free of charge. Plenso enll at the ofllco and get the names of people who havo been cuiea. They live rlRUt around you. Many Hiitrrers of vnrlous diseases who had Kivcn up ull hopo of relief are rapidly recovering. The doctor In n real grnduuto of the best homeopathic colleges 1th enormous experi ence and employs the niout successful meth ods for curing disease either at the otllce or your homes. Ofllce eonsultutlon, examina tion and medicines, 60c. 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For mVo In Hcrauton, Pa., by Matthews Bros, and Morguu & Co. ffif r Smiling Faces Sweet Greetings that Keep the Home Happy. It Is Hard to Smile When tho Body Is Racked With Pain. It's hard to smile when tho back is aching-, the head throbbing. Mid the body Is full ot pain. The thing to do Is to rid yourself of tho ncnei una pains, and Man. yon will help you do It. The Munyon Itomeo- patnic noma Remedies, made up of discoveries and combinations in medlclno, are a veritable boon to mankind. The world la rapidly being converted by truth and evi dence, and soon the Munyon schoolofmedlcina will be accepted and recognized as .. . , , . the only school that Is safe and suro. Hero's proof. Will you study It? Mr. T. F. Thompson, Beal House, Ches ter, Pa.. sayB: ' For six weeks I suN fered tortures with rheumatism In my limbs. I was compelled to give up my work and took to my bed for part of the time. I tried several remedies rec ommended to mc, but they gave me no relief. Finally I called at Munyon'a of fice In Philadelphia, and the doctor there diagnosed my case and prescribed Mun yon's Rheumatism Cure. I began taking it, and felt relieved from the beginning. Four bottles havo made a complete cure." Munyon has a separate cure for each disease For sale by druggists, mostly as cents a bottle If In doubt writo to Professor Munyon at Philadelphia, Pa., and get medical advice freo. I 111 fitting clothes make the handsome man look plain and common, while the suit that fits gives grace and dignity to the wearer. PERFECT FIT, THOROUGH WORKMANSHIP And the very lowest prices are the advantages to our customers which we ofter. W. J. DAVIS, 213 WYOMING AVENUE. Arcade Building, TS There is no economy in sowing oats that will not grow. Ours weigh 34 to 36 lbs. per bushel and are Clean Natural Oats. The Weston Mill Go i, E. INSON'S Lager Brewery Manufacturers of the Celebrated rttH HI EV CAPACITY! 100,000 Barrels per Atanum WOLF & WENZEL, 340 Adams Ave., Opp. Court Houss. PRACTICAL TINNERS and PLUfflBERS Bole Atentsfor Richardson -Boynton'a Furnaces and Ilangse. ON THE LIHE OF THE CANADIAN PACIFIC If i are located the finest fishing and hunting; grounds In the world. Descriptive books on application. Tickets to all points In Maine, Canada and Maritime Provinces, Minneapolis. St. Paul, Canadian and United States Northwest, Vanvouver, Beattle, Tacoma, Portland, Ore., Ban Francisco. First-Clasf, Sleeping and Dining Cars attached to all throught trains. Tourist cars fully 'fitted with bedding, curtains and specially adapted to wants of families I may DO nau wim Kcouu-citua vcxeis. Rates always less than via other Unas. ' For further Information, time tables, eto.- on application to E. V. SKINNER, Q. E. A., 383 Broadway, New York. iKh' iiillll ssssttsssVcl'i-T? . ' nS: TAILORING o Buy Good Oats SON .At, -K-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers