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DR. S. W. ARROWOOD,
62 McDaniel St, gives
free treatment, free exam
ination; guarantees a cure
for dropsy, tumors, cancers,
old sores, nervous indiges
tion, rheumatism and all
diseases of the blood, lungs,
liver and kidneys; diseases
of women and children a
specialty.
THE PHILOSOPHERS AND THE
FROG.
Dr. Safford, for many years Profes
sor of Chemistry in the Medical Col
lege of the University of Nashville,
used to tell his students a fable, the
moral of which was plain. The wise
men were gathered together to ascer
tain the explanation of the fact that
when two glasses of water of equal
weight were balanced on the beams
of a balance-scale and a frog is then
put in one of the vessels the balance
remains the same, thus proving that a
frog has no weight when immersed in
water. Each wise man had his own
explanation, and there was much heat
ed argument and discussion. At
length one of the wise men said, “Let
us try it.” Os course, you know the
result.
But the fable has a moral. You
sometimes hear wise-acres say that
Coca-Cola is injurious. You ask them
why. One says one thing and another
says another. Why not try? Why
not analyze it? If you are not a
chemist yourself, then why not accept
the verdict of every competent chem
ist who has ever analyzed it? Emi
nent College and University Chemists,
Commercial Chemists, Government,
State and City Chemists, all have
analyzed Coca-Cola, and not one has
ever been able to find anything inju
rious in it. If this is true, don’t you
think it is about time for those who
have been scandalizing the National
temperance drink to be silenced. The
next time you hear anyone say that
Coca-Cola contains “dope,” tell him to
write to the Coca-Cola Company, At
lanta, Ga., for a free copy of “Truth
about Coca-Cola.”
It is the strongest and the neediest
muscle that we have. It takes
more blood and better blood to supply
this great pump that pumps the life
fluid through our bodies than any oth
er muscle or any other organ, and it
takes better blood; red blood, pure
blood, strong blood to support it; and
yet, do you know that the heart does
not receive one drop of its own blood,
not a drop, not an atom; it goes in and
is pumped out and after it gets out
into the arteries it is sent back into
the wall of the heart as it is sent to
any other part or muscle; so if the
heart should say, “I am going to keep
what I have got until I get enough,
that moment there would be heart clot
and death. It is only as the heart
gives that it lives; and this is true of
the church.
Do you know what the churches of
Georgia did for missions last year?
The gifts for Home, State and For
eign Missions last year amounted pro
portionately to about fifty cents per
person for the entire year —less than
one cent a week. It is a disgrace on
Georgia’s fair name, but Georgia is
not worse than other States. And
WE OFFER YOU A POSITION
We want 250 men right away. Must have them and will
pay good money—s3.oo to $5.00 a day guaranteed accord
ing to class of work. You need no money. Everything
done on our capital. You deliver our goods and collect.
A big opportunity. Write today for free plans, sample
outfits, etc. All free. G. H. GROUNDS, Manager, 1027
W, Adam* Street, Dept. SBBB, Chicago, IU,
it is not only of Missions that I speak;
that is only one line of our steward
ship. He has given it into our hands
to spread His Kingdom; to make sub
jects, and we should be, if we were
faithful stewards, ever ready to take
advantage of an opportunity; but, oh!
the opportunities that we waste; the
time that is fruitless; the money that
is spent prodigally! I can not close
with better words than by reminding
you of the words that have already
fallen from His lips to others and
some day must be said to you, “Ren
der an account of thy stewardship.”
*
THE LADY FROM ALABAMA.
(Continued from Page 6.)
bims of the third heaven, must have
paused, in their songs to wonder
where Israfeel, sweetest of the sing
ers of Heaven’s great choir, had wan
dered!
“Oh! Diana of the Ephesians!”
breathed the girl whose nature was so
responsive to all symbols of beauty
and harmony, “how sweet —how
sweet —how sweet!”
Under the psychic influence of the
mocking-bird’s high note, she looked,
tenderly, at a rare replica of Bouger
eau’s “Love’s Secret,” admiring Cu
pid’s artless wooing of the dark-haired
Maid of Paris. The little scoundrel,
nude, save for one ribbon, had one
bare foot poised on the curb of a well
or drinking trough, and, with one arm
laid, confidently, on the girl’s shoul
der, was whispering, behind his saucy
palm, the story that never grows
stale. And she —she was listening to
him! What normal, sanely educated
woman has not, at some springtime in
her life?
Rose felt a psychic kinship, with
the listening Maid of Paris, and, per
haps, this gorgeous, glorious spring
afternoon, full-warm with soft, seduct
ive beauty, amorous with the smell
of broken earth, the scent of April
rain, she, also, was guilty of listening
to the queer message from the Spirit
of Chance, as it came again, through
the Italinated halls of “Solitude,” and
to that visible message, that seemed
to issue from the marvelously painted
lips of the Son of Venus.
“I go a-fishing,” she said, “because
I can’t help it.”
Presently, she found herself on the
stairs, their marble whiteness, in
sharp, artistic contrast, to the rich
ebony and mahogany paneling below;
and she stared down through the
gloom, heavy with the scent of hot
house flowers, broken, at intervals, by
the vari-colored light from art win
dows, as it spilled over rare statu
ettes and bronzes, and those grim
masterpieces that embodied hei’ most
solemn dreams.
Dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-clad,
she stood, silver-handled fishing rod
clasped in brown-gloved hand, the
gray basket strapped to her dainty
waist, meditating.
Should she go back? What was the
scientific reason for her going for
ward?
Then, step by step, she slowly de
scended, through the light of gold,
the bronze gloom, a blur of feminine
beauty trailing down ghastly white
marble steps, her b’ack eyes starry;
for she saw visions rise, tike ships
above gray ocean’s verge. And, out of
the quickened cells of memory, came
moving pictures, flaming a breathless
moment, and vanishing. A cross grew
plain and a white arched gateway,
then a wall lost in verdure; and she
realized, that her mind’s eye was
viewing the Church of St. John in the
desert. Then the scene vanished, and
a single column grew luminous, and
she was vividly aware that she was
beholding the Church of the Column,
in Athens. Then, she beheld no more
swift visions of churches, but the
long, gray ruins of the viaduct at Eph-
The Golden Age for April 14, I§lo.
Ingredients of Ayer’s Hair Vigor:
Anything injurious here? Ask your doctor.
Anything of merit here? Ask your doctor.
Will it stop falling hair? Ask your doctor.
Will it destroy dandruff? Ask your doctor.
Does not Color the Hair
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EARN WHILE YOU LEARN
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MINARD’S LINIMENT MANUFACTURING CO. SOUTH FRAMINGHAM, MASS. 1
Esther Ferrall’s Experiments 1.10
15
