Aa PARE to ‘go there.” THE HUSHED HOUSE. I went at nightfall, “ame again at dawn; On Love’s door again I knosked— Love was gone. He who oft had bade me in Now would bid no more; Silence sat within his house, Barred its door. When the slow door opened wide Through it I could see How the emptiness within Stared at me. Through the dreary chambers Long 1 sought and sighed, But no answernig footstep Naught replied. came; Then at last I entered Dim a darkened room: There a taper glimmered gray In the gloom. And I saw one lying Crow ned with heliochrys; Never saw I face as fair As was his. Like a wintry lily Was his brow in hue: And his cheeks were each a rose, Wintry, too. Then ny soul Jeipgmbered All that made us par And what 1 had ed at once Broke my heart. —Madison Cawein,in Harper's Magazine. 3 | AN ACTIDENT AND ITS SEQUEL. | 5. kd Bs KATE RATHNORE. 2 REMEMBER it as well as if it were yesterday. The I carriage stood at the door, and I was to go back to school for the spring term. My mother gave innu- merable instructions, smoothed my col- lar, and adjusted my cap on my head properly, then gave me a kiss and stood looking wistfully at me as I went down the walk and got into the car- riage. A month or two later—it was in June, I think—after a hard struggle one af- ternoon with some figures, all about a ship and a cargo and the profit and all that, I went out to join the other DOYS. ‘When I reached the playgreund they were gone, and there was nothing for me to do but amuse myself as best I could. I strolled about the house with my hands in my pockets—which my moth- er had told me distinctly not to do— and, suddenly remembering her in- structions, took them out again; then, for want of better amusement, I Dbe- gan to whistle. Next to the school there was a pret- ty cottage separated from the school- house by a board fence. The two houses were not a hundrer feet tpart, and I could look right through under the trees, and there on the tennis ground stood a girl a trifie younger than myself, looking straight at me. Now, when a boy suddenly finds himself observed by a girl, he feels somewhat queer. I remember that very well. My hands went right into my pockets, but remembering that that was not the correct thing to do in the presence of a girl, I took them direct- ly out again. Then I concluded that it would be a good way to show how little I was embarrassed by turning around up- my heel, a movement on which I greatly prided myself. After that, I don’t remember—it was so long ago— what new capers I cut. But one thing is very certain. I was soon hunting for something I pretended to have lost in the grass beside the fence. “If it’s your knife you've lost,” I heard a musical voice say, “it isn’t there. I picked up a knife there a week ago, but it was all rusty and no good.” “Oh, never mind,” I said, looking up into two eyes peeping out from a sun- bonnet; “it wasn’t much of a knife, and I've got another.” “Are you one of the boys at the school 7’ “Ves?” “What class are you in?’ “The fourth.” : “Do you study geography ?”’ “Yes.” “What's the capital of Austria?” I scratched my head. “I don’t remember that,” I admitted, reluctantly. “I'm first rate on capitals, but I can’t recollect that one.” “Why didn’t you go off with the boys?” +I was behind with my sums. I sup- pose they’ve gone to the river. I like the woods pretty well; squirrels.” “And lizards,” she added. afraid of lizards.” I they're full of “T’'m not suppose you're *No, I'm not.” = #9f gou. want to go there now, and sare: afraid;. I don’t: mind: going with you, just to keep off the lizards and things.” She looked wistfully out at the wood. I can see her now leaning on her wicket, deliberating—if such a pro- cess can be called deliberation where the conclusion was determined—the straight, lithe figure poised between the racket and one foot, one little leg crossed on the other—peering out at the forest. Suddenly, without any warning, she dropped the racket and started for the wood. We were not long in crossing the field, and were walking in the dense shade when she stopped, and looking at me with her expressive eyes, said: “How still it is in here! It seems {0 me I can almost hear the silence.” “Yes, it is pretty solemn,” I replied. “Let’s go on; the river winds about down there, and we can see the water go over the dam.” I heard a distant voice ealling “Julia.” It was very Taint: she did not hear it. I stood a moment hesitat- ing. “Come, let's go,” forward. “Julia,” 1 heard again, than before. I hurried on, fearing she would hear the voice and turn back. Presently we emerged from the wood and stood by the river. I was familiar with the ground, and led my friend directly to the dam. “Most of the boys are afraid to gvalk out on that dam,” I said. “1’d be afraid.” “But you're I said, starting more faintly only a girl; a oughtn’t to be afraid.” Vith that 1 started boldly out, occasionaily stand- ing on one foot, and performing sun- dry antics to show what a brave boy I was. Then I retraced a few steps and called to her to come. “Oh, no,” she said: “I'm “Afraid! You little goose! to hold on to?” Between her fear and a disposition pliable to a boy older and stronger than herself, it was not long before I was leading her out on the dam. “Don’t you see it's quite safe?” I said. She shrank back as I led along. 1 determined that she should £0 to a point where the water poured over a portion of the dam lower than the rest. I turned my back to step up on the post. It was but a moment. I heard a cry, and saw Julia in the flood. The expression that was in her eyes is to this day stamped clearly on my memory—an expression of mingled re- proach and forgiveness. I could scarcely swin a dozen strokes, but uot a second had elapsed before I was in the water. I swam and struggled and buffeted afraid.” With me to reach her; ail in vain. An eddy whirled me in a different direction. My strength was soon exhausted. 1 was borne down the river, sinking and rising. till I came to a place where 1 caught a glinipse, as 1 rose to the surface, of a man running along some pianks extending into the river, and raised above the water on Posts. My feet became entangled in weeds. I sank. I heard a great roaring in my cars, then oblivion. When T came to IT was lying on my back. I remember the first thing i saw was a light cloud sailing over the clear blue, There was an air of quiet and peace that contrasted with my own sensations. Then I saw a man on his knees beside something he was rubbing. I turned my, head aside and say it was a little figure—a girl, Julia. She was cold and stark. My agony was far greater than when I had plunged after her into the stream. Then I hoped and believed that if she were drowned I would Le also. Now I saw her beside me life- less, and I lived. Then some men came, and the man who was rubbing Julia said to them. ‘Take care of the boy; the girl is too far gone.” They took me up and car- ried me away, and laid me for a while on a bed in a strange house. Then I was driven to the school. The next day my father came and took me home. I was ill after that, too ill to ask about Julia, but when 1 recovered what a load was taken from my mind to know that by dint of rubbing and rolling, and a stimu- lant, she had been brought to and had recovered. I also learned that the ‘man who cared for us had seen Julia fall and had rescued her. When I saw him running along the planks it was to his boat chained to the end. That summer my father removed with his family to Western Pennsyl- vania. He was obliged to wait some time for my recovery, but at last I was able to travel, and left without again seeing the little girl whom I had led into danger. I only heard that I had been blamed by everyone. - * * * * oR ne % Ten years passed, during which I was constantly haunted by one idea: that was to go back and find Julia and implore her forgiveness. The years that I must be a boy and depen- dent seemed interminable. At last I came of age, and received a small for- tune that had fallen to me, and, as soon as the papers in the case were duly signed and sealed, I started. It was just about the same time of the year, and the same hour of the af- ternoon as when I first saw Julia, that I walked into the old school grounds. I had fully intended to go in next door and call for her, but my courage failed me. I bad heard noth- ing of her for years. Was she dead? Was she living? Was she in her old home, or far away? These thoughts chased each other through my mind, and I dreaded to know. I was standing at the school en- trance, with my ‘hand on the bell when 1 heard a door in the next house open and then shut. moment I could feel near me, She came out of the house, a sien- der, graceful girl of nineteen, and, picking up a tennis racket, commenced to knock the balls about. I wanted to make myseif known; but dreaded the horror with which she would re- gard me when she should learn who I was. “I beg your pardon,” I my hat, From that that Julia w as said, raising “can you tell me if the school little | boy | is still there?’ pointing to the house. “It was moved some years ago,” { she replied, regarding me with the id, steady gaze. “1 was one of the scholars.” “Indeed!” She spoke without any further encourage ment for on. “I see the wood has been cut away,” I added, giancing toward it. “No; it does not seem to be.” “Were you ever there?” me 80 “Oh, yes, often.” “And is that old dam still across the river?” “1 believe it is.” She looked at me curiously. I went on without waiting for a reply: “Would you mind showing me the way to it?’ It is a long while since I was there.” : She drew herself hauteur. Then, thinking that perhaps I was unaccustomed to the conven- tional ways of civilized life, said, pleasantly: “You have only to walk through the wood straight, at the back of the house and you will come to it.” “Thank you,” 1 replied; .'but } hoped you would show me the way.” She looked puzzled. “Miss Julia,” I said, altering my tone, I once met you when I was a boy here at school.” “I knew a number of scholars,” she said, more interested; ‘who are you?” 1 dreaded to tell her. “If you will pilot me to the dam,” I said. “I will inform you.” She thought a moment, up with slight she then turned and 1 looked out at the wood. With the quick motion with which she had made the same move as a child, she started forward. We walked side by side to the wood, through it out on the river bank. There was the water and the dam; everything as it had been ten years before, “Did you ever try to walk out there? I asked. Once, whan I was a child, 1 came here with a boy, and we walked to where the water pours over. 1 met with an accident. 1 fell in.” “The boy overpersuaded you, I pose?’ It was diflicult for me to conceal a certain trepidation at the mention of my fault. *No, I went of my own accord.” “He certainly must have been to blame. He was older and stronger than you.” On the contrary,” she sligh rising irritation, after me like the noble that he was.” I turned away on pretense of exam- ining a boat down the river. “At any rate, he must have begged your forgiveness on his knees for per- mittiug you to go into sucia a danger:”’ “I never saw him again, He went away.” I fancied--at least, I hoped— I could detect a tinge of sadness in her voice. “I have cften wished,” she went on, “that he would co:ne back, as the other senolars soraetimes do, as you are new, and let me tell him how much I thank Lima for nis noble effort.” “Julia,” 1 said, suddenly turning and facing her. “This is too much. I am that boy. I led you into the wood. I forced you to go ont in the dam: with me. I permitted you to fall in.” “And more than atoned for all by risking your life to save me!” Ah, that look of surprised delight which accompanied her words! It was worth all my past years of suffering of fancied blame; fdr in it I read how dearly she held the memory of the boy who had at least shared the danger for which he was responsible. I do not remember if she grasped sup- said, with a “he jumped little fellow my hand or I grasped hers. At any rate, we stood hand in hand, looking into each other's faces. I blessed the Providence that ended ‘my punishment; I blessed the good for- tune that had led me to a knowledge of the kindly heart beside me. Of all the moments of my still count it far the happiest. life, 1 Then we walked back through the woods, over the intervening field, and stood together leaning against the fence between the old school and her hose. * = * * * * = We did not part after that for an- other ten years, which she spent as my beloved wife. Then she ieft me to. go whence 1 can never recall her. Yet there is. a irysting place in the woods, through which: we once passed as children, and often afterward as lovers, There I watch the, flecked sunlight, and mark the quietness, and it seems to me that I can “hear the silence.” More than that, IT know the pure soul looks at me through her honest eves.—New York Weekly. A Detective Fox Terrier. The story of the dog which receatly caused the discovery of a tragedy at Brigend by barking outside the house in which it was committed recalls a sensational incident that took place in Grand Canary a few years ago. A young American was ratrdered for his money in cne of the Spanish inns near the harbor, and his fox terrier was carried off to a plantation in the hills by cne of his accomplices. Two years later the dog was brought back again to the town, and it immediately went to a certain spot in the road, tried to scratch a hole in it, and howled so piteously that it attracted the attention even of the Spanish policeman. This led to the discovery of its master’ body and the final conviction of his murderer.— London Chronicle, S A Poer Chicken, little boy, who one day appeared in his father’s study, clasping a forlorn little chicken. “Willie,” said the father, “take that chicken back to its mother.” “Ain’t dot any modder,” answered Willie. “Weil, then, take it back to its father,” said the professor, deter- mined to maintain parental authority. “Ain’t dot any fader,” said the child, “Ain’t dot anything but an old lamp.” —New York Times, A well-known professor has a bright o A NEW CAME or ‘DECEIT. Passing Confederate Money pecting Foreigners. When you see a bill fluttering to the ground from the pockets of a pedes- trian don’t pay any attention to it, and if the finder volunteers to split it with yeu hang on to your money. Michael Arzmann wishes he had followed this advice. Michael had a bad streak of luck yes- terday. He is a hard working empioye in the rolling mills. For two years he has been saving his money to bring his on Unsuse wife from Germany. She arrived in Milwaukee a few days ago. Michael had found a suitable flat and paid $3 down to clinch the bargain. Clutclking £7.50 in his hand he started off to pay the balance of the first month's rent. Crossing Sixth street viaduct he saw a man ahead of him drop a bill which appeared to be money. He picked it 1p. thought it was $50, and was in the act of calling to the stranger to notify him of his loss when another ap- proce hed him and said: the guy trying to show off money. I know him well. Used to pal with him. He would not thank you if you, returned the He has stacks of that. I'll tell vou what. You keep the bill and just give me one-half in change and no one will be the wiser.” “Good God, do I look as if I had that et on to that Le has evel money much money about me? This is all that I have,” showing the $7.50. “You seem to be an honest chap, and on second thought I do not need the $25 as bad as you, seeing that your wife has just blown into town. Give me what you've got and I'll call around for the balance later on.” Michael turned over his money pocketed the bill. Michael hurried to his landlady. With a profound bow he handed her the newly found bill. “Man, wnat are you trying to do!” exclaimed the landlady fiercely. “I'll teach you,that I am not to be trifled with.” She jumped upon the next car and saw Inspector Riemer, After he had heard her charges against Arzmann, whom she accused of trying to pass counterfeit money on her, he sent for the unsuspecting Slavonian. As soon as the inspector saw the scrap of paper he smiled: “That's over.’? and Confederate. The is —Milwaukee Sentinel. ir Trail Siguos. First among the trail signs that are used by Indians and white hunters, and most likely to be of any use to the traveler, says a writer in Country Life in America; are aXe blazes on tree trunks, These may vary greatly with locality, but there is one everywhere in vse with scarcely any variation. This is simply the white spot, knicked off by knife or axe, and meaning “Here is the trail.” war The Ojibways and other woodland {rihes use twigs for a great many signs. The hanging broken twig, like the simple blaze, means, “This is the trail.” The twig clean broken off and laid on the ground across the line of march means, “Break from your straight course and go in the line of the butt end,” and when an especial warning is meant, the butt is pointed toward the one following the trail and raised somewhat in a forked twig. If the butt of the tavig were raised and pointing to the left it would mean. “Look out, camp,” or ‘ourselves, or the enemy. or the game we have killed is out that way.” Y The old buffalo hunters had an es- tablished signal that is yet used by mountain guides. It is as follows: “Two shots in rapid succession, an in- terval of five seconds by the watch, then one shot, means, ‘*Where are you?’ The answer, given at once and exactly the same, means, “Here I am; WwW hat do you want?’ The reply to this may be ome shot, which means, “Al right; I only wanted to know where you were.” But if the reply repeats the first, it means, “I am in serious trouble. Come as fast as you can.” Artificial and Natural Silk. Several processes are now employed in Germany, Switzerland and Frauce for the manufacture of artificial silk, and one’ of the German associations is said to be negotiating for the estab: lishment of a factory in the United States. In one of the latest processes cellulose dissolved in ammoniated oxide of copper is directly separated from this solution in the form of threads by the aid of an acid. Under the microscope all artificial silks ave seen to differ from natural silks by possessing thicker threads. The artifi- cial silks are also distended by water, the threads increasing from one-third to one-half in thickness, while natural silks do mot perceptibly distend when wet. Artificial silk is used instead of straw for making hats. It serves well for passementaries and cmbroideries, and produces an exceilent quality of human hair. A Cute Oklahoma Woman, The women of the Yankee States may think that they are clever at driv- ing bargains, but the claim is made here now, without evasion or equivoca- ticn,. that in Guthrie lives ‘a woman without a parallel for commercial wit. Severat months ago she entered a large department store in New York City to buy a yard of silk, which .the .clerk told her would cost her thiriy-five cents. Her purchase left a remnant of one and one-half yards. The clerk sug- gested that she buy the What will you take for it?’ asked the Guthrie woman. “Twenty - cents, Madam,” replied the clerk politely. “Well, I'll take it, but you can keep the yard you've just torn off.” The clerk was staggered for a moment, but appreciating the humor of the proposal smilingly made the exchange. Not the least merit of this story is that it is true.—Kansas City Times. ’ remnant. { KEYSTONE STATE CULLINGS SAND-BAGGED AND ROBBED West Penn Railroad Conductor Re- lieved of Considerable Muney cn Street at Freeport. Henry Brombach, a freight conduct- or employed by the West Penn rail- road was sand-bagged and robbed of $147 and his ring while passing the Guckenheimer distillery at Freeport. Mr. Brombacu was painfully, but not seriously hurt. He notified the police as soon as he regarded consciousness. A young man named Edward Petsing- { er was arrested on susplejon. To increase its fr eight classification yard facilities the Pennsylvania Rail road company has purchased four of the largest truck farms in ‘Central Pennsylvania, located in South Hol- lidaysburg, for $162,000. The pur chase almost wipe out the trucking industry in Blair county, and Altoona and Hollidaysburg must hereafter de- pend upon the Baltimore and Phila- delphia markets for v table pro- duce. The Horwindgvui Coal and Coke company has taken an land in East Hol liday sburg the new freight classification yard of the Pennsylvania Railroad company. It is stated that a large pressed steel car constructing and repair plant wil] be erfcted on this land, which is an ideal location for that purpose. While answering an alarm of fire the truck became unmanageable go- ing down the hill on Forty-sixth street, near Plummer street, Pittsburg. In an effort to step the team the hors- es were pulled from the road to the sidewalk at the southwest corner of Forty-sixth and Plummer streets, crashing into the house of W. H. Briggs. Men, women and children were knocked down and trampled on by the fire horses. Sixteen were in- jured, two of them so seriously that they were taken to St. Francis hospit- al. An attempt option on was made to blow up the general store of the Alexandria Supply Company at Crabtree, West- moreland County. It is said defective dyramite was all that saved the building and several persons who were sleeping on the premises from destruction. Only a small portion of the dynamite was ignited by the slow fuse placed under the building. The building was damaged, but no one was hurt. Censtable James Martin ar- rested John Kermiffo and Mates Haito on suspicion. A deal in real estate believed to make certain that tht Fennsylvania railroad will build the proposed new four-track line from Beatty to Greens- burg has been consummated. The farm of Lee Swaney, of Youngstown, which lies to the north side of the railroad’s present line, was sold to Recorder of Deeds James Gallagher, who it is believed is acting for the railroad company. The proposed line runs through the farm. The consid- eration was about $7,500. While surveying for the nw ovens at Grays Landing James A. Kennedy, of the Fayette Engineering company, found the remains of an Indian chief. The bones were all in a good state of preservation, especially the jaw- bone. In the midst of the bones were found 44 beads, each about two inch- es long, which were evidently made from bear tusks. The beads were at- tached to a chain around the body of the chief. During a severe which passed over Fayette county electrical storm Connellsville and one man was killed and several places were struck by lightning. The man killed is un- known and was on Division island, in the Youghiogheny river, with three companions. All his pockets contain- ed was a Baltimore & Ohio waybill containing the words; “pick up at Barnestown, W. Va.” Martin Shultz, a coke worker, was beaten to death while on his way to work in Continental mine No. 1 near Uniontown. Justice of the peace M. B. Clifford found the body about day light Shultz’s head was mashed so badly that he could hardly be recog nized. County Detective: Alexander McBeth has made information against’ Andrew Masticheck. charging with the killing of Shultz. Dr. O. L. Blachley, of Wilkinsburg, received a telegram notifying him of the drowning of his son at Jack- son’s Point, Canada, on July 4. The young man had gone to Canada with his brother, Stephen, and Mr. and Mrs. I. Thomas, of Wilkinsburg, a week ago. He was a sophomore at Washington and Jefferson College. The Connellsville Machine Car Company, one of the oldest manufacturing concerns in the coke region, has been reorganized with a capital] of $150,000. Its plant burned several months ago. The new plant will be built on the site of the him land old one. In the Legionville district, Beaver county, Snyder & Co., have drilled their test on the Simon Phillips farm through the 100-foot sand and have a light show of oil. They will tube and test. A considerable flow of salt water was encountered. James D. Moffat, Jr., and Jefferson student, son of Presi- dent James D. Moffat, was shot in the right arm by a colored man, who had been angered by an injury in- flicted upon him by another person. Patrick O’Rourke, a fireman in the employ of the Lehigh Valley railroad for the past 36 years, was struck by Delaware and Hudson railroad freight engine and killed. He was 51 years old 1. B. Flet a Washington cher of Pittsburgh chased the Peerless lead glass works of Ellwood City at publie¢ sale, the purchase price being $10,150 Fletch- er will operate the plant, which em- ploys over 150 men. A masked man entered railroad ticket office at and at the point of a revolver held up Night Operator R. F. Rose and robbed the cash drawer of over $100. The robber escaped. Rural free delivery was ordered established September at Mosgrove, Armstrong county, 8Llv 490 persons and 98 houses pur- the Erie Greenville, route. No. 2 ing adjoining was ; A "WOMAN'S MISERY. iaterson Mrs. John LaRue, of 115 Avenue, Paterson, N. J., says: “I was troubled for about mine years, and whac "1 suf- fered no one will ever know. 1 used about every known reme- dy that is said to be good for kidney plaint, without deriv- ing permanent relief. Often when alone in the Bouse the back ache has been so bad that it brought tears to my eyes. The pain at fimes was so intense that I was compelled to give up my household duties and lie down. There were head- aches, dizziness and blood rushing to my head to cause bleeding at the nose. The first box of Doan’s Kidney Pills benefited me so much that I continued the treatment. The stinging pain in the small of my back, the rusbes of blood to the head and other symptoms disappeared.” Doan’s Kidney Pills are for sale by alt dealers, 50 cents per box. Ioster-Mil- burn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. Quebec's New Fortifications. The Dominion government is about to enter upon the construction of gi- gantic military works in the city and district of Quebec. . The old citadel is to be overhauled, and the three forts at Point Levis, and big guns put on all of them. At Beaumont, nine miles from the city, on the south shore, two large fortresses aret to be con- structed, commanding a full view of the channels up and down i river and costing about $3,000,00 ‘When they are done Quebec can pe. to sleep at night with an added sense of secur- ity, though it is a question whether it will be a bit safer than it is now and has been ever since Woife and Montcalm, for the time being, settled its status on the Heights of Abra- ham. T.aliag Can Waa» Shani One size smaller after usin» Allen’s Foote Ease, a nowder. It makes tight or new shoes easy. Cures swollen, hot, sweating, aching feet, ingrowing nails, corns and bunions., At all druggists and shoo stores, 25c. Don’t ace cept anv substitute. Trial package Frer by mail. Address, Allen 8, Olmsted, LeRoy, N.Y. Russia has eighty-six general holidays in a year. . The Jews celebrate this year the. 250th anniversary of their settlement in the United States. BABYS TERRIBLE SORE Body Raw With Humor-—Caused Untold Agony=Doctor Did No Good—Mother’ Discouraged—Cuticura Cured at Once. “My child was a very delicate baby. A terrible sore and humor broke out on his body, looking like raw flesh, and causing the child untold agony. My physician pre- scribed various remedies, none of which helped at all. I became discouraged and took the matter into my own hands, and tried Cuticura Soap and Cuticura Ointment with almost immediate success. Before the second week had passed the soreness was gone, not leaving a trace of anything, Mrs. Jeannette H. Block, 281 Rosedale Sti, Rochester, N. Y.” Hidden Money Produced. Not very long ago William Mar- tin, a business man of Martinsburg, Washington county, has brought into New Albany a considereable sum of money, which consists entirely of old ‘“‘greenbacks’” issued before 1865. A great part of this money had evident- ly been secreted for many years, as it was covered with mold. It had ap- parently not been in circulation. Sev- eral hundred dolars of the money was in compound interest notes issued during the last years of the Civil war. The money, Mr. Martin said, was a part of a large sum left by a wealthy farmer of Washington county, Ky., who died a few years ago, and was being put in circulation by the heirs of his handsome estate. = While not at all miserly, he was careful and prudent, and, being distrustful of banks, he had kept his money secret- ed about his house. The greater part of his accumulations had been on hand for more than forty years, and had the money been put at interest it would have more than doubled it- self during the years it had lain idle. —Iouisville Courier-Journal, Longest Tunnel. The Simplion is the longest tunnel in the world, and has been finished in the face of tremendous difficulties, most of which were entirely unex- pected, and many of which presented new problems for engineers. It ex- tends from Brieg in Switzerland to Iselle in Italy, the total length being a little over 12% miles—21,576 yards in fact. COMES A TIME When Coffee Shows What It Has Been Doing. “Of late years coffee has disagreed with me,” writes a matron from Rome, N. Y,, “it’s lightest punishment was to make me ‘logy’ and dizzy, and it seemed to thicken up my blood. “The heaviest was when it upset my stomach completely, destr oying my ap- petite and making me nervous and irri- table, and sent me to my bed. After one of these attacks, in which I nearly lost my life, I concluded to quit and try Postum Food Coffee, “It went right to the spot! I found it not only a most palatable and refresh- ing beverage, but a food as well, All my ailments, the ‘loginess’ and dizziness, the unsatisfactory condition of my. blood, my nervousness and irri- tability disappeared in short order and my sorely afilicted stomach began quickly to recover, I began to re build and have steadily continued until now. Have a good appetite and am rejoicing in sound health, which I owe to the use of Postum Food Coffee.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. There’s a reason. Read the little book, “The Road to Wellville,” found in each pkg. i | ! |! ” otis 71 A SCHO DR. W Subj i Brook] the mo “Church was fro : saw no man sai Amon; apocaly] derstood out wit! that is church, same cl and suf white al Here w There t know ir are kno divine 1 mation essentia of God capital God. FE bol are learn as negativ ly. Th gold ar glass al tiful tl that is SOITOW, There | cedon} sardon topaz and a is, w ship ' God Him in tr ings tem deat she
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers