Naturally, have a Rood appetite, keep your blood pure and your nerves strong: by taking Hood s Sarsaparilla The best—in fact the One True Blood Purifier. Hood's Pll18 t'ure biliousness, headache. 26a Conductor E. D. T.oomis, Detroit. Mlcli., says; "The oiTect of Hall's Catarrh Cure is wonderful." Writo hiiu about it. Sold by Druggists, 76c. Piso's Cure for Consumption is an A No. 1 Asthma medicine. \V. J{. WILLIAMS, AU tioch. Ills., April 11,1804. lippioraDic ignorance. Gen. John McNeil, who was a broth er-in-law of President Pierce, and ma jor-general of the New Hampshire mi litia at one time, is said to have been considerably incensed when he met any one who appeared to be ignorant of the wounds and honors lie had won on the Held of battle. During the war with Great Britain lie was shot while mounted on his faithful horse, receiving a severe wound In the knee, which caused him to walk stiffly for the rest of his life. "How did you hurt your knee, gen eral?" asked a young man whom the old officer characterized as a "whipper snapper" one day, from a certain lack of respectfulness in his air and man nor. "Did you have a fall?" "Yes. sir," snorted tjm general, indig nantly. "I fell off a horse! You never rend the history of your country, did rou. sir?" Usually a man does not have time to work on his own scheme, he is bothered so mucli by other schemers. HEEDLESS WOMEN. They Pay a Sad Penalty for Their Neglect, If women only heeded first symp toms— nervousness, backache, head ache, lassitude, loss of appetite and sleep; palpi tation, melan y(.? holy, 11 blues, n %(p**3" ( etc., and at \ once removed T the cause with But tlicy are careless, or their physician is to biauie, and they drift into some distressing female disease. The Vegetable Com pound at once removes all irregulari ties of the monthly period: inflam mation, ulceration and displacement of the womb, and all female troubles. All drug-gists have it. Write to Mrs, l'inkhnm at Lynn, Mass., if yen wish for advice, which she will give you free. "I should not be alive to-day, if it hail not been for Lydia E. Pink ham's Vegetable Compound J was suffering greatly from an attack of female weakness, and nothing I had tried could give me relief; when by the advice of a friend I began the Com pound. After using it two months i was a different girl, and now at the end of six I am entirely cured.'*— MßS. ANNUS KIKKLAXD, Patclioguc, L. I. Seaside and Country- Gowns need o Duxbak ' b,as VELVETEEN * BINDING on their skirt edges. It is rain proof, sheds water and never turns grey. If your dealer wiil not supply you we will. Sarrplcn showing I :be!s and materials ma!ltd freo. " Home Dressrnakfng Made Ea*y." a new boo!: b\ Miss EMM > M. Hooper of the Ladies' Home Journal sent for 25c,. postage paid. S. 11. Ci M. Co., P. O. Box 699. N. Y. City. Don't take substitutes to save a feivpennies. It won't pay you. Always insist on HIRES Rootbeer. Made only by The Charli 7.. li re' Co., Philadelphia. A 25c. pa:£*io wake* 6 callous. Sold *ery where. THE MIDDLE SOUTH. .T.dirvrl of th! i*\!un>ss end Developmrii: .f the "Middle SMITH. Hand somely illustrated. Subscription 6TI CMS. per year. All about the Middle South. !ts ADVANTAGES, and i[s inducements to the Hoine-oeker. Offer F.xi i nordinary. In ORDER ... introduce it in every Nor. hern Community interested in the South, we Will send it One Year for only 2I cts. to each of the HR . twenty names received from any Post office. Subscribe' quick. Time limited. Ad dress, .Hiddlc South L'nh)i*hlitu ( SOIIF iiiervllic, TCSIII. QTEA iIV w I EMlsll Uf ffS P If wB Oaf RL STAIUi IIKOTIIKK*? 1 ° Mo., Kochiior(• HI. QENSIoi S* Successfully Prosecutes Clai—>s. ■ Late Principal Examiner U S. Pension DU..UU, ™D.vtaiu lust war, Isad)udlcatinacluiiuH. atty simt* P N U 89 90 COURAOE. Hast thou made shipwreck otthy happiness? Yet, tf God please, Thou'lt find theo some small haven nonotbo loss, la nearer seas, Where thou mayest sleep for uttor weari ness, If not for ease. The port thou dream'dst of thou shalt never reach, Though gold its gates, Aud wide nud fair tho silver of its beach; For sorrow watts To pilot all whoso aims too far outreach Toward darker straits. Yet that no soul divinothou art astray, On this cliff's crown Plant thou a viotor flag ere breaks the dny Across night's brown; And none shall guess it doth but point tho way Whore a bark went down. —Grace D, Litchllcld, in Hartford Courier. HOW MY AUNT CAME OUT, DY HERBERT COPELAKD. © Y auut Mebitabel i gfr waa an maid —"anatural born BWMH #*/ 9 every I el Cm IHm I ono I \U'l//jf fl tllo sharper ton S u °d added: \\l (a 9 " fts BOfc an ' con " \ M I trfiiry ftß R k° was j— ns i oldmaidy." She I oul X. i ccr tainly was "peer," the queerness being filiown chiefly in the fact that, at the j time I first visited her, she had not been out of tho house, not oven into the dooryard, for twenty years. She lived alone in the big bouse at tbo end of tho village street, her "hired man" Jonah, who lived near by, do ing all the outside work, and she, the inside. Twenty years before, when she was about thirty years old, she had a "pre sentment," us sho called it, that if ever sho went out something terriblo would happen to her. How this pro sentiment came into her head I was never just üblo to find out, nor in just what form it came; but it cer tainly came, and that was about all that any oue, hereelf included, I al ways fancied, ever knew of it. She hail had a long sickness in which she was often delirious, and it left her mind in that dazed coudition which takes impressions readily and holds thorn firmly. When tho full vigor of mind comes back, these impressions j havo heroine so much a part of the mind that they cannot be cast asido without effort. There had been no ono to laugh Aunt Mehitable out of her "presentiment," and sho herself was not ablo to argue it away; so sho yieided, and it became a firm part of hor mental existence. I remember just how sho looked in tho Inst days of her okl-muidhood. Not that she was ever really anything but an old maid. Sho never married, but sho became "just like other folks," tbo townspeople said, and therein paid her the greatest compli ment; for iu that villogo "old maid" was a term of opprobrium. Sho was tall and pale and thiu ; her naturally fair complexion had becu whitened by long exclusion from the sun ani wind. Sho had been pretty in her youth, and tbero wero traces of tnis prettiness left, though her expression had hardened with tho ndvnucing years. She spoke slowly and not very often, and she seldom smiled; but when 6ho did smile, her face was transfigured with the sweetness of it. She always wore gowns of the pattern that was in tho fashion when sho secluded hereelf from the world. As hoopskirts wero tbea "in," she mado a quaint figure twenty years after ward when they were very much out "out." Sho was "p'ison neat," as tho ex pression went in the village, and her house was, of course, "perfect wax work." I, myself, havo many a time seen her go around with dustpan and brush after callers bad left, sweeping up tbo dirt, real or imaginary, that they had tracked iu. Sho was a lonely woman ; she would not have a servant nor pets—dogs sho did not like, and cats would make tracks on her kitchen Itoor. Tho neighbors stood a little in awe of her queerness and her neatuess, and seldom ventured to call. I was sorry for her lonely lifo aud tried to persuade hor to have a servant, or a : pet of some sort—a oat, at least; for j thoy are tho most cleauly and neat of I ail animals; but no, she would not. i "Whv, George," she said, "d'you s'poso I'd havo a cat 'round, litter in' I up things all tho time? an' spoilin' my j Au' thou, they're al'iivs bavin' j kittens an' ECCII thing.?. I've got 'long j b' myself all these years, an' I guess keu keep on dou' so. What 011 airtb d'you want me to hev a cat for?" "Why, because," I answered; "I think you must be lonesome all tho winter when I'm not around." I was making her a visit that summer. "Well," she replied, "so I be some times ; but I don't wan't no cats 'round ; they ain' much comp'ny any how. I shall miss you powerful bad when you go; but a cot wouldn't make up for you, now, would it?" 1 confessed that I didn't just think it would, but as long as she could not havo me, sho might take a oat —for half a loaf is better then no bread. I was determined to make Aunt Mehit able keep a cat by some means or oth er, and, as luck would have it, I was very soon euabled to do so. One Sunday evening not long after our talk I went to church. It was a rainy night, and I hitched the horse in the shed by tho side of the church. When I went to unhitch him and get into the buggy, I felt something furry and warm on tho seat. By the dim light of the church window I fouud that the furry object was a small and disreputable looking eat curled up i fast asleep in the corner of the seat. I I got in and sat down beside it, and we drove off. Suddenly it occurred to me that this was the cat I was looking for, and I instantly resolved that Aunt Mehitabel should keep it, wheth er or no. My only fear now was, lest it should jump out of the buggy, so I put the robe over it and tuoked it well in. When we got home I unharnessed the horse and then went for my cat. It was all safe; but I found, on exam ination, that one of its front logs ap peared to be broken, whioh doubtless accounted for its not jumping out of the buggy on the way home. "I'm glad of it," I thought; "for now Aunt Mehitabel, with her kind hoait, can't turn it away." Still, I must confess, it was with fear and trembling that I approached the kitchen, particularly as my boots were muddy and my clothes wet, and even without tho cat I should prob ably get a gentle scolding from Aunt. However, I put on a brave front and, after noisily wiping my foet, walked in. Aunt Mehitabel was Bitting by the table, looking as neat and prim as ever a mortal woman looked. "Well, Aunty"—T called her "Aunty" when 1 felt conciliatory— "l've brought you a catand I held out tho poor, bedraggled, broken legged animal. "For the land's sake! George Mars deu, what hev you got, a eat?" in hor rified tones, and speaking faster than usual. "Yon just put that dirty-look ing thing out o' my kitchen this min ute. I won't hev it here, not a min ute." "But, Aunty," I said, "it rains guns outside, and tho poor oat's got a broken log and can't walk." "Never yon mind if sho has," sho rejoined; "she ken get along now's well's she's got along b'fore, an' I won't hev her a minute. You jest take her up au' put hor out this min ute, X tell you." "Now, Aunty, you won't bo cruel, I kuow. I toll you it rains outside and the poor cat can't walk," And I put tho beast down on tho lloor to show her how lame it was. As it stood bo fore us in the middle of the floor it was not a beautiful object; it was very lamo and it looked incth-enteu. "George Marsden," ray aunt almost snapped; "you take that dirty cat off my cleau flour. I ain't novor had a cat on my floor beforo, aDd I guess 1 won't begin now." "But you will give her soino milk, won't you?" I said. "No, I won't," sho answered. "I enn't have a cat drinkin' out o' my dishes. I ain't been used to oatin' nftor animals." But for all that, sho did go and get some milk in a little tin hand basin. Tho eat was evidontly very hungry and eagerly lapped tho milk. While it was drinking, 1 saw the irritation begin to loave my aunt's face, and I determined to make tho best of my opportunity. I finally persuaded her to let tho cat stay over I night, at least; and I promised to take j it away in tho morning. Wo made a i bed in a corner behind the Btove, and I pat the cat in it for the night. In tho morning Aunt Mehitabel and \ T exaininod tho wretched beast. Its leg was really broken; but I sot it and bouud it up whilo my auut watched me. Sho was very proud of me. I was just beginning to study medicine then, and this practical example of my skill delighted her. Later in the day I offered to tako the eat away, but my aunt would not let mo ; sho would keep it till it was a little stronger. Tho nursiug instinct, that sweet instinct in all women, was aroused in Aunt Mehitabel, and 1 knew the eat was safe in its quarters till it got well, at least. And so it proved, for my aunt tended tho cat most faithfully for two weeks. When it began to limp about tho kitchen, I oftorc 1 to take it away ; but she would not let me, acknowledging, half shamefacedly, that she had grown foud of it and wauled to keep it. I saw it was safe to laugh at her, and did so. She took it all good liaturedly and laughed while she gently stroked the cat. I stayed with Aunt Mehitabel threo weeks after the cat rocovcred, audsh3 became fonder of it all the time. When I left, she said, as Bha kissed mo: "Well, George, I guess 'twas Provi dence or—somethin' that put that cat in tho buggy that night; for I'm mighty fond of Georgy (she had named him after me) a'ready, an' I'm sure I won't he near so lonesome after you're gone." She wrote me that nil the people in tho village called on her after I left. "It was not to see me though, I know," she wrote, "but to see a cat in my kitchen, making tracks on my floor." Auut Mehitabel was shrewd, and sho knew just what the people thought of her. I had several lotters during tho win tor, each one recounting some new and wondcrlultriok of Georgy's. None of them seemed to me at all remarka ble; hut my dear auut never knew how wise cats were before, and ' thought this very ordinary one a I marvel of beauty and intelligence. ! When summer came again I went to . make my aunt another visit, hoping ! this time to destroy hor presentiment i and got her out of the house. After I i had been there a week and admired | Georgy to Auut Mehitabel's full satis j faotiou—though I confess, in truth, i he wnH an uncommonly homely gray ; aud white cat—l broached the subject •of going out to her. But much as she I had softened iu many respects, on her | "presentiment" she was firm, i "Why, George," she said, "I can't ;go ouc. I'm just as sure as I'm a-sit i tin' in this chair this minute, if I was i to go out somethin' dreadful would i happen to me. I've al'ays known it, ' an' that's why I don't go out. I ain't | been out now for twenty-one years— , not fence I was sick—an' I can't go now. You ken 'pshaw' at presenti ment *a much 'a you want to; but I b'licve iu 'em, au' I know I sh'd be killed 'f I went outand she looked bo frightened that I hadn't the heart to say another word just then. Dur ing the next few weeks I touched on the subject several times, but always with the same result; and I began to despair. One afternoon when I came back from a drive, I fouud my aunt in the kitchen, with George in her arms, crooning over him aud crying. 41 Why, what's tho matter, Aunt?" I said, "is George sick?" "No, ho ain't," sho answered; "but he's most broke his leg in that pesky ol' trap o' Jonah's. I heard him cry in', an' I looked out an' seen him up by the corner of the barn, caught in that ol' trap that Jonah set there for skunks, an'l—oh, George!" and she turned perfectly white and shivered, "I—l've been out! I went after him! Oh, George, help me; I'm goin' to die; 1 feel it comin' now. Oh, George!" and the poor woman fell to the floor in a dead faint. It was the first time in her life she ha.l fainted, and no wonder sho thought she was dying. The shock was a terrible one to her. I carried her to the bed, and after some time revived her. She smiled feebly as sho held my hand, and asked if sho were "dredful sick," and if she were dying. I told her of course not, that sho had only fainted. "But I went out," she said ; "I went out's far's the barn, an' somethin' ought to happen. I ain't been out side o' my own door before for twonty one year. I wonder what'll become o' me?" "Nothing,"! said ; "you'ro all right. Come, have a driuk of tea, and you'll be as good as now." "But, George," sho said, "I can't got up. I must liev had a stroke!" aud she sottled back on tho bed with a groan. "Nonsense," I said, "you'ro all right. See! I'll help you." And I helped her to her feet, and led her back to tho kitchen. She got herself somo tea and eagerly drank it. Then sho dropped into her chair, and, tak ing Georgo iuto her lap, she cried right out. "You pretty little thing," she murmured, "you was most the death of me ;" and she rocked back aud forth, sobbiugand cryiug hysterically ; and then she began to laugh—a hard, hysterical laugh. Sho Anally quieted down, and I persuaded her to go to bed; und sho wont to sleep im mediately. In tho morning she got up as usual: but her face was paler than ever, aud she was very weak. I stayed with her all day. As she said nothing about the events of yesterday, I did not. I thought it best to let her have her own way for a timo. But in the even ing she said to me: ' 'Am I all right, Georgo? I feel sort o' shaky. You don't think I'm goin' to bo sick, do you?" "Oh no," I said; come, won't you go out with me?" "No, I can't," she answered; "1 can't tempt Providence again. I've 'scaped once, an' I ought to bo mighty thankful for that." "But it was the first timo you went out," I said, "that something was go iog to happeu. Nothing did happen, you see. You'ro all right. Come, go out with me." "No, I don't b'liovo I ken," sho said; "'twas the first time, I know, but—no, I can't go;" and nothing more was said just then. But tho noxt morning at breakfast she turuod to mo and said : "George, I'vo thought it nil over an' lam gom' out. It was tho first time somethin' was going to happen, an' it didn't; an' I'm goin' out again. Come, let's go up to tho barn." She started for tho door. At the threshold she stopped. "No, I can't go," sho said. I said "Nousonso !" and took her arm and steppod ahead out of tho door. How her poor, thin arm trembled in mine! I must say I trembled a bit myself, for I realized what an aw ful thing it was for bor as I looked at herjwhite set'face. After a minute she shut her mouth firmly, made a bold Btep forward, and sho was out. A deep sigh escaped, and sho leaned hoavily on my arm, I thought she was going to faint again ; but she braced herself, and wo walked on to tho barn, where wo sat down on au old bench aud looked toward the houso. "Why, George," sho said, "don't our houso look shabby ? I must have it painted. Who'd think ap'ison neat ol' maid' lived inside?" And she laughed a soft little laugh, and there was silence again. Present!}' she said : "Ain't tho air tine, George? S'posin' wo go up t' tho orchard." And wo went. AU tho morning we walked about tho place, visiting tho hens, the pigs, the potato patch and all the homely every-day things about the farm. Aunt Mehitabel took a childish pleas ure in everything. Jonah came along, and seeing us, stopped iu amazement. "Bless me if that ain't Miss Mehitabel ou'door!" ho said. That was all he said, but his faco was a stu ly. The news soon spread through tho village, and a regular reception Aunt Mehitabel and I had for tho noxt few days. Tho story was told over and over again; and many a pat did Georgo get, and ,mauy &u honest, homely word of good will was said to me. Aunt Mehitabel wont to church Sunday, and spent the week in driving about and makiug calls. Sho had to I hire a maid to do her work; sue could not get the time to do it herself, I sho was so busy "gadding about," as j sho siid. "But thou," she added, as i a sort of apology for beiug such a , "gadder," "l'vo got to make up /or i twenty-ono years indoor, you know." The last night of my stay with her, | Aunt Mehitabel gave a big sort of I tea, or lawn party—a thing quite un ! known in that littlo old fashioned vi'lage. Sho wanted it "ou'door, like ; sho'd read they had 'em sometimes." She iusisted on sending to tho city for Japanese lanterns, aud good things to eat of all sorts. Tho dining room and kitchen were cleared for dancing. Music came from the city; and, great est wonder of all, Miss Mehitabel ap peared in a now silk dress made with out a hoop. The whole village was invited, and everybody camo; aud nil agreed that "Miss Mehitabol's com ing-out party" was tho greatest cveut the village had ever known.—Now York Independent. Nervous Shock. Now we often hoar of obscure nerv ous derangements with no other clear cause following railway accidents, and of strange nervous symptoms compli cating such obvious physical injuries as may occur, aud many questions are apt to bo raised as to tho possibility of such phenomena being due to any known degreo of concussion or injury of the nervous centres, and not infre quently much doubt i 9 thrown on tho bona fides of plaintiffs in such cases. While, however, quite admitting tho frequency with which fraud is at tho bottom of claims against railroad com panies, it does not do to forget that something else beside mere physical injury may result from a railway acci dent. If terror, a sudden and intense horror, or, as some would say, "a mere nervous shock," without any physical injury at all, will produce long-lasting chnuges in the mental and nervous mechanism, it would ho straugo indeed if such changes wore not found in patients who, whatever the nature or extent of thoir outer in juries, have gone through the terrible sho3k of a sorious railway accident. From the moment of the first dancing on the rails, through the terrible time when passeugerß and portmanteaus aro being tossed helplessly about, up to tlio moment when, with a final orunch, all becomes still, may not be a long time, but, short as it is, it is a spell of tho intensest agony and ter ror which cau bo conceived, and it would indeed bo passing strange if it did not writo deeply on many nervous systems its note of horror.—London Hospital. A Strange Fight at Sea. Noticiug a few days ago a let tor writton in Caliioruia to tho New York Sun entitled, "A Duel Between Sword Fishes," if tho editor of tho Itopnbli cau will givo me space I will relate a truo story that came under my own observation—a light to a finish be tween a whale, a sword fish and thrasher. The sword fish and thrasher were jointly iu the fight. It was in the year 1876. Tho good old ship Richard M. Mauics, Captain John C. Beals, homeward bound from tho East Indies, wai crossing the In dian Ocean, bowling along at some eight knots, with a good southeast trade wind, deeply laden with Java sugai. I chanced to go ou dock just as tho suu was rising out of its watery bed, while musing ou my day's run and wlioro sho would bo at 12 o'clock. I hoard a sort of groan ou my weather quarter, and costing my eye iu that direction I beheld a monster whalo not a hundred yards away. It mado a breach almost clear froui tho water, spouting blood an I water, and at tho sumo timo a thrasher, a tish resembling a large porpoise, leaped into tho air and camo down with tremondoin forco on tho whale's back bofore tho whale went uuder. This operation was per formed throo times. When lost to view it was evidently a battlo betweeu a sword li h aud thrasher on oue side aud a whale on the other. The sword fish would evi dent y come up under tho whalo and stab him; the whalo would mako a breach out of the water, tho thrasher would in a !-:e a leap out at tho sumo time and come down on tho whale's back, and tho last seen of them tho battle was not favorable to the whale. Tho light was not strictly according to Queensbury rules, and no policeman tnere to stop tho fight. 1 presume they fought to a finish. As the Psalm ist has said, "They that go down t.o tho sea in ships, and do busiuess in great, waters, these sco the works of the Lord and flis wonders in the deep." —Springfield (Mass.) Republican. Be Charitable Willi Your WliccD. Mrs. Fawcett has ma lea suggestion which, if acted upon, should make tho factory girls of London bless the day when cycling became u fashionable craze. In her opinion cycling would bo for tho hard-working young foraalo toilers of the east end not only au amusement, but an iuvaluablo means of obtaining tho fresh air aud exercise of which they are continually iu such need. Tho girls would like to cycle, but machines aro expensive and be yond thoir means. Thereforo Mrs. Fawcett, at a Mausion House meeting, urged that ladies, when they purchased new "mounts," should bestow their old one upon girls' clubs or agencies which exist for tho benefit of factory girls.—London Queen. Tho Decline ol' the "Dot." Among tbo ranny changes which have taken plnco within tho lust ten years in the manners and customs of | tho French, none is more striking than tho gradual decay of the mstitu | tion known as the dot. From statistics I recently published, it appears that the dowries now given by French parents on the marriage of thoir children are | becoming more slender. French par ; cuts aro beginning to adopt our sys | tem of giving children away in mar 's riago freely, without haggling over | financial considerations.—Westmin ster Gazette. Victoria's Salary. Tho Qncon of England receives from the civil list a year $300,000 as salary | ai d there are extensive provisions made for house room, provisions and ' servants. Besides this, the Queen has , a very large private income. \ MIXSIKK>S WIFE, The Frank Statement o! the I'antor of IteThel Church. From (ha Advertiser. Fhnira , N. 3'. DR. WILLIAMS.— Dear Sir:—My WHO HAS been A sufferer from rheumatism for moro than throe years, suffering nt times with ter rible pdns iu her liiubs, an 1 other times j with a severe "crick" in hor baek which causes great agony. She spent much for physicians and medicine, but secured only temporary relief; finally she concluded to try Pink Pills. Bho has taken oight boxes and 1 cau say from the first one she has im proved until now she is almost entirely free from pain, and has grown much strougor aud fools confident that, by the blessing of (sod, they will effect a permanent euro. We lake great pleasure iu recommending thorn to our friends. (Signed.) UEV. J. 11. BUCKNER, l'astor Bethel A. M. E. Church, Eltnlra, New York. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills contain, in a con densed i?rm, all the elements necessary to I give new life an l richness lo the blood and restore shatters I nerves. They are an un- i failing specific for such diseases as locomotor ' ataxia, partial paralysis, St. Vitus' dance, sciatica, neuralgia, rheumatism, nervous j headache, the after effect of la grippe, pal pitation of tho heart, pale and sallow com- ; ploxions, all forms of weakness either in male or female. Pink Pills are sold by all dealers, or will lie sent postpaid on receipt i of price, 50 cents a box, or six boxes for $2.5') (Ihey are never sohl in bulk or by the KM), by addressing Dr. Williams' Medi-uno Com pany, Bchcnectady. N. Y Twenly-two Anamito pirates were recently hoheadod in one hatch on one of tho bridges at Hue, China. lfriy fl. 00 worth Doftttfn* Float In*-Borax Ocup of four i.Tocer, send wrappers to Dobbins Soap Mf'g Co., Philadelphia, Pn. They will send you Ires of charge, postage paid, a Worcester Pocket Dic tionary, £3B pages, bound in cloth, profusely il lustrated. Oflur good until August Ist only. The Tyrol has 1,279 taverns, with 4(1,000 beds. The number of tourists last year was 221,295, who spent 10.250,0f 0 florins. FITS stopped free ty Hit. K LINK'S GREAT NERVE RESTORER. NO fits after first, day's use. Marvelous cures. Treatise and $2.00 trial bottle free. Dr. Kline, 031 Arch Bt., Phila., Pa. Mrs. Winslotv'sSoothing SyrupforCliiltlrcn toothing, soft ens Iho gunis, reduces inflamma tion, allays pain; cure J wind colic. 25c a bottle. hriiU;'? '''., I I "The North Pole made tise of at last." 9 $ Always at the front and wherever <t I "BATTLE AX" goes it is the |* $ biggest thing in sight. It is as re- % 'S markable for its fine flavor and quality g '& as for its low price. A 5 cent piece $ fl of "BAHLE AX" is almost as © large as a 10 cent piece of any other |? equally good tobacco. ® A jAflfeii-OJ ""Wash us with Pearline! " That's all we ask. Save us from that dreadful rubbing- It's wearing us out! "We want Pearline—the original washing-compound— the one that has proved that it can't hurt us—Pearline! Don't experiment on us with imitations! We'd rather be rubbed to pieces than eaten up." <K> [VERY FARMER II Till NORTH |j CAN MAKE MORE MONEY IN THE MIDDLE SOUTH. Bg_l He can make twice as much. He can sell nis Norihern farm and get twice as many acrea for his Ka!a money down here. We -oil improved farms for 10 NtiO an ncr-. Plenty of railroads—four of them No droughts. Neither too lint nor t. 1 cold- o'i.ra> in* rutin. Northern farmers are cotuino every week. If you are uterested write for Fit MM pamphlet and a-k all the questions vou want to. I? is a pleasure to us to answer them. SOFTIIMUN lIO.MMSEKKEIIN' LAND COMPANY, Sonieivillc, Tcnu. "A Good Tale Will Bear Telling TvCca," Use Sapolio ! SAPOLIO C^dtitcs With a better understanding of the transient nature of the many pliya* ical ills which vanish before proper ef forts —gentle efforts—pleasant efforts— rightly directed. There is comfort in the knowledge that so many forms of sickness are not due to any actual dis ease, but simply to a constipated condi tion of the system, which the pleasant family laxative, Syrup of Figs, prompt ly removes. That i 3 why it is the only remedy with millions of families, andi? everywhere esteemed so highly by all. who value good health. Its beneficial effects arc due to the fact, that it is tho one remedy which promotes internal cleanliness, without debilitating tho organs on which it acts. It is therefore all important, in ordefr to get its bene ficial effects, to note when you pur chase, that you have the genuine article, which is manufactured by the California Fig Syrup Co. only, and sold by all rep utable druggists. If in the enjoyment of good health, and the system is regular, then laxa tives or other remedies arc not needed. If afflicted with any actual disease, one may be commended to the most skillful physicians, but if in need of a laxative, then one. should have the best, and with tho. well-informed everywhere, Syrup of I igs stands highest and is most largely used and gives most general satisfaction* P N U 29 OPIUM jssssr
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers