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