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THE SONGS OF BIRDS.
DR.
TALMAGE ON NATURE’S MINIS
TRY IN SONG.
Tlie Feathered Warblers Slug of Love anti
Hope and Family Life, and the Season Is
Now Hero to Learn of Them—Marvolons
Melody It* Nature.
Brooklyn, Juno 25.—Rov. > Dr. Tal-
inngo this morning chose for the subject
of his sermon “The Song of Birds.”
This, like many of his sermons, is suited
to the season of tho year in which it is
preached. It is well fitted to be read un
der tho trees and has in it tho health of
outdoor life. Text, Psalms, civ, 12, “By
them shall the fowls of tho heaven have
their habitation, which sing among the
branches.”
There-is an important and improving
subject to which most people have given
no thought and concerning which this
is the first pulpit discussion—namely,
“The Song of Birds.” If all that has
been written concerning music by hu
man voice or about music sounded on
instrument by finger or breath were put
together, volume by tho side of volume,
it would fill a hundred alcoves of the
national libraries.
But about the song of birds there is as
much silence as though a thousand years
ago tho last lark had with his wing
swept the door latch of heaven and as
though never a whippoorwill had sung
its lullaby to a slumbering forest at
nightfall. We give a passing smile to
the call of a bobolink or the chirp of a
canary, but about the origin, about the
fiber, about the meaning, about the
mirth, about the pathos, about the in
spiration, about the religion in the song
of birds the most of us are either igno
rant or indifferent. A caveat 1 this morn
ing file in the high court of heaven
against that almost universal irreligion.
First, I remark that which will sur
prise many, that the song of birds is a
regulated and systematic song, capable
of being written out in note and staff
and bar and clef as much as anything
that Wagner or Schumann or Handel
ever put on paper. As we pass the
grove where the flocks are holding matin
or vesper service we are apt to think
that the sounds are extemporized, the
rising or falling tone is a mere accident,
it is Sung up and down by haphazard,
the bird did not know what it was
doing, it did not care whether it was a
long meter psalm or a madrigal. What
a mistake!
mony ns well as a hundredfold of more
volume to sacred music.
Further, I notico in tiie song of birds
that it is a divinely taught song. The
rurest prima donna of all the earth could
not teach the robin one musical note. A
kingfisher flying over the roof of a tem
ple aquuke with harmonies would not
catch up one melody. From the time
that the first bird’s throat wan fashioned
on the banks of the (lihon and Hiddekel
until today on the Hudson or Rlriuo tho
winged creature has learned nothing
from the human race in the way of carol I
or anthem. The feathered songsters
learned all their music direct from God. I
Ho gave them the art in a nest of straw
or moss or sticks and taught them how
to lift that song into the higher heavens
and sprinkle the earth with its dulcet en
chantments. God fashioned, God tuned,
God launched, God lifted music! And
there is a kind of music that tho Lord
only can impart to you, my hearer.
There have been depraved, reprobate
and blasphemous souls which could sing
till great auditoriums were in raptures.
There have been soloists and bassos and
baritones and sopranos whoso brilliancy
in concert halls has not been more fa
mous than their debaucheries. But
there is a kind of song which, like the
song of birds, is divinely fashioned.
Songs of pardon. Songs of divine com
fort, Songs of worship. “Songs in tho
night,” like those which David and Job
mentioned. Songs full of faith and ten
derness and prayer, like those which the
Christian mother sings over the sick cra
dle. Songs of a broken heart being
healed. Songs of the dying flashed upon
by opening jiortals of amethyst.
Songs like that which Paul com
mended to the Colossians when he said,
“Admonish one another in psalms and
hymns and spiritual songs, singing, with
grace in your hearts, to the Lord.” Songs
like Moses sang after the tragedy of the
Red sea, songs like Deborah and Barak
sang at the overthrow of Sisera, songs
like Isaiah heard the redeemed sing as
he came to Zion. Oh, God, teach us
that kind of song which thou only canst
teach and help us to sing it on earth
and sing it in heaven. It was the high
est result of sweet sound when under
the playing of Paganini one auditor ex
claimed reverently, “Oh. God!” and an
other sobbed out, “Oh, Christ!”
Further, I remark in regard to the
song of birds that it is trustful and
without any fear of what may yet come.
Will you tell me how it is possible for
that wren, that sparrow, that chickadee,
to sing so sweetly when they may any
time be pounced on by a hawk and torn
from wing? There are cruel beaks
birds is a family song. Even thoBe of
tho feathored throngs which have no
song at all make what utterances they
do in sounds of their own family of
birds. Tho hoot of the owl, the clatter
of the magpie, the crow of tho chanti
cleer, tho drumming of tho grouse, the
laugh of the loon in the Adirondack's,
the cackle of tho hen, the scream of the
eagle, the croak of the raven, are sounds
belonging to each particular family.
But when you come to those which have
real songs, how suggestive that it is al
ways a family song! All the skylarks,
all the nightingales, all the goldfinches,
all tho blackbirds, all the cuckoos, pre
fer the song of their own family and
never sing anything else.
So tho most deeply impressive songs
we over sing aro family songs. They
have come down from generation 1o
versation, for many u concert in and out
of doors has been ruined by persistent
talkers, and then sit down on a mossy
bank— ,
Where a wild stream with headlong shook
Comes brawling down a bed of rock,
And aftoiMK-rhaps a half an hour of in
tense solitude there will be a tap of a
beak on a tree branch far up, sounding
like the tap of a musical baton, and then
first there will be solo, followed by a
duet or quartet, and afterward by doxol-
ogies in all the tree tops and amid nil
the branches, and if you have a Bible
along with you. and you can without
rustling the leaves, turn to tho one hun
dred and forty-eighth Psalm of David
and read, “Praise the Lord, beasts and
all cattle, creeping things and flying
fowl,” and then turn over quietly
to my text and read, “By them
generation. You were sung to sleep in j shall the fowls of tho heaven have
your infancy and childhood by songs ! their habitation, which sing among
that will sing in your soul forever, i the branches,” or if under the power
The musician never put on tliemusic ™“ icket and ' in aky read y to slay the
rack before him Mendelssohn’s “Elijah”
or Beethoven’s “Concerto” in G or
vSpohr’s B flat symphony with more def
inite idea as to what he was doing than
every bird that can sing at all confines
liimself to accurate and predetermined
rendering. The oratorios, the chants,
the carols, the overtures, the interludes,
the ballads, the canticles that this morn
ing were heard or will this evening be
beard iu the forest have rolled down
through tW ages without a variation.
Even the chipmunk’s song was ordained
clear back in the eternities. At the gates
of paradise it sang in sounds like the
syllables “’Kuk!” “Kuk!” “Kuk!” just
as this morning in a Long Island or-
*chard it sang “Kuk!” “Kuk!” “Kuk!"
The thrush at the creation uttered
sounds like the word “Teacher!” “Teach
er!” “Teacher!” as now it utters sounds
like “Teacher!” “Teacher!” “Teacher!”
In the summer of the year 1 the yel-
lowliammer trilled that which sounded
like “If!” “If!” “If!” as in this summer
it trills “If!” “If!” “If!” The Maryland
yellowthroat inherits and bequeaths the
tune sounding like the words “Pity me,
pity me, pity me!” The white sparrow’s
“Tseep, tseep” woke our great grandfa
thers as it will awaken our great grand
children. The “Tee-ka-tee-ka-tee-ka” of
the birds in the first century was tlie
same as the “Tee-ka-tee-ka-tee-ka” of the
nineteenth century.
nature’s unchanging song.
The goldfinch has for 6,000 years been
singing “De-ree-dee-ee-ree.” But these
sounds, which we put in harsh words
they put in cadences, rhythmic, soulful
and enrapturing. Now if there is this
order and systematization and rhythm
all through God’s creation does it not
imply that we should have the same
characteristics in the music we make or
try to make? Is it not a wickedness that
so many parents give no opportunity for
tiie culture of their children in the art
of sweet sound? If God stoops to edu
cate every bluebird, oriole and grosbeak
in song, how can parents be so indiffer
ent about the musical development of
the immortals in their household?
While God will accept our attempts to
sing, though it be only a hum or a drone,
if we can do no better, what a shame that
in this last decade of the nineteenth cen
tury, when so many orchestral batons
are waving and so many academies of
music are in full concert, and so many
skilled men and women are waiting to
offer instruction there are so many peo
ple who cannot sing with any confidence
in the house of God because they have
had no culture in this sacred art, or
while they are able to sing a fantasia at
a piano amid the fluttering fans of social
admirers, nevertheless feel utterly help
less when in church the surges of an
“Ariel” or an “Antioch" roll over them.
The old fashioned country singing school,
now much derided and caricatured (and
indeed sometimes it was diverted from
the real design into the culture of the
soft emotions rather than the voice),
nevertheless did admirable work, and in
our churches we need singing schools to
prepare our Sabbath audiences for
prompt and spontaneous and multipo-
tent psalmody. This world needs to be
stormed with halleluiahs.
We want a hemispheric campaign of
hosannas. From hearing a blind beggar
sing Martin Luther went home at 40
years of age to write his first hymn. In
the antumn I hope to have a congrega
tional singing school here during the
week which shall prepare the people for
the songs of the holy Sabbath. If the
church of God universal is going to take
this world for righteousness, there must
he added a hundredfold of more har-
Where was it, my brother or sister,
that you heard tho family song—on the
hanks of tho Ohio, or tho Alabama, or
the Androscoggin, or the Connecticut,
or the Tweed, or the Thames, or the
Raritan? That song at eventide, when
you were tired out—indeed too tired to
sleep, and you cried with leg ache, and
you were rocked and tuny to sleep—you
hear it now, the soft, voice from sweet
lips, she as tired, perhaps more tired
than you, hut she rocked, and you slum
bered. Oh, those family songs!
Tho songs that father sang, that moth
er sang, that sisters and brothers sang.
They roll on - us today with a reminis
cence that fills tho throat as well as the
heart with emotion. In our house in my
childhood it was always a religious song.
1 do not think that tho old folks knew
anything but religious songs. At any
rate I never heard them sing anything
of the bird voices you are trails
ported, as when Dr. Worgan played so
powerfully on the organ at St. John’s
that Richard Cecil said ho was in such
blessed bewilderment he could not find
in his Bible the first chapter of Isaiah,
though he leafed the book over and over,
and you shnH ho so overcome with forest
harmony that you cannot find thePsalms
of David, never mind, for God will
speak 1 o you so mightily it will *nake no
difference whether you hear his voice
from the printed page or the vibrating
throntof one of his plumed creatures.
THE SEASON TO STUDY NATURE.
While this summer more than usual
out of doors let us have what my text
suggests, an out of doors religion. What
business had David, with all the advan
tages of costly religious service and
smoking incense on the altar, to be lis
tening to the cliantresses among the tree
else. It was “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” i branches? Ah! lie wanted to make him-
song birds. Herods on the wing. Mo-
docs of the sky. Assassins armed with
iron claw. Murderers of song floating
up and down the heavens. How can the
birds sing amid such perils? Besides that,
how is the bird sure to get its food? Mil-,
lions of birds have been starved. Yet it
sings in the dawn without any certainty
of breakfast or dinner or supper. Would
it not be better to gather its food for the
day before vocalizing?
Besides that, the hunters are abroad.
Bang! goes a gun in one direction. Bang!
goes a gun in another direction. The
song will attract the shot and add to the
peril. Besides that, yonder is a thun
dercloud, and there may he hurricane
and hail to he let loose, and what then
will become of you, the poor warbler?
Besides that, winter will come, and it
may be smitten down before it gets to
the tropics. Have you never seen the
snow strewn with the birds belated in
their migration? The titmouse mingles
its voice with the snowstorms as Emer
son describes the little thing he found in
tempestuous January:
Here was this atom in full breath,
Hurling defiance at vast death;
This scran of valor, just for play,
Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray.
SONGS OF HOPE AND TRUST.
For every bird a thousand perils and
disasters hovering and sweeping round
and round. Ypt there it sings, and it is
a trustful song. The bird that has it the
hardest sings the sweetest. The lark
from the shape of her claws may not
perch on a tree. In the grass her nest is
exposed to every hoof that passes. One
of the poorest shelters ol’ all the earth is
the lark’s nest. If she sings at all, you
will expect her to render the saddest of
threnodies. No, no. She sings exultingly
an hour without a pause and mounting
3,000 feet without losing a note. Would
God we all might learn the lesson.
Whatever penis, whatever bereavements,
whatever trials are yet to come, sing,
sing with all your heart and sing with
all your lungs.
If you wait until all the hawks of
trouble have folded their wings and all
the hunters of hate have unloaded their
guns and all the hurricanes of disaster
have spent their fury, you will never sing
at all. David, the i/ursued of Absalom
and the betrayed of Ahithophel and the
depleted of “sores that ran in the night,”
presents us the best songs of the Bible.
John Milton, not able to see his hand be
fore his face, sings for ns the most fa
mous poem of all literature, and some of
the most cheerful people I have evqymet
have been Christian people under phys
ical or domestic or public torment. The
songs of Charles Wesley, which we now
calmly sing in church, were composed
by him between mobs.
Further, in the sky galleries there are
songs adapted to all moods. The mead
ow lark is mournful, and the goldfinch
joyous, and the grosbeak prolonged of
note. But the libretto of nature is vo
luminous. Are you sad? You can hear
from the bowers the echo of your grief.
Are you glad? You can hear an echo of
your happiness. Are you thoughtful?
You can hear that which will plunge you
into deeper profound. Are you weary?
You may catch a restful air. So the
songs of birds are administrative in all
circumstances. And we would do well
to have a hymnology for all changes of
condition. You may sing your woes into
peace and rouse your joys into greater
altitudes. Upon every condition of body
and soul, let us try the power of song.
The multitudinous utterances of grove
and orchard and garden and forest sug
gest most delightful possibilities.
Further, I notice that the song of
Rock of Ages,” or “There Is a Foun
tain Filled With Blood,” or “Mary to the
Saviour’s Tomb.” Mothers, be careful
what you sing your children to sleep
with. Let it he nothing frivolous or
silly.
Better have in it something of Christ
and heaven. Better have in it something
that will help that boy 30 years from
now to bear up under the bombardment
of temptation. Better have in it some
thing that will help that daughter 30
years from now when upon her come the
cares of motherhood and the agonies of
bereavement and the brutal treatment
of one who swore before high heaven
that he would cherish and protect. Do
not waste the best hour for making an
impression upon your little one, the hour
of dusk, the beach between the day and
the night. Sing not a doleful song, hut
a suggestive song, a Christian song, a
song you will not be ashamed to meet
when it comes to you in the eternal des
tiny of your son and daughter. The ori
ole has a loud song, and the chewink a
long song, and the bluebird a short song,
but it is always a family song, and let
your gloaming song to your children,
whether loud or long or short, he a
Christian song.
These family songs are about all we
keep of the old homestead. The house
where you were horn will go into the
hands of strangers. The garments that
were carefully kept as relics will become
moth eateu. The family Bible ciin go
into the possession of only one of the
family. The lock of gray hair may be
lost from the locket, and in a few years
all signs and mementoes of«the old home
stead will he gone forever. But the
family songs, those that we heard at 2
years of age, at fi years of age, at 10
years of age, will be indestructible and
at 40 or 50 or GO or 70 years of age will
give us a mighty boost over some rough
place in the path of our pilgrimage.
THE LOST RESTORED 11Y SONG.
Many years ago a group of white chil
dren were captured and carried off by
the Indians. Years after, a mother who
had lost two children in that capture,
went among the Indians, and there were
many white children,in line, hut so long
a time had passed the mother could not
tell which were hers until sho began to
sing the old nursery song, and her two
children immediately rushed up, shout
ing, “Mamma!” “Mamma!” Yes, there
is an immortality in a nursery song.
Hear it, all you mothers, an immortality
of power to rescue and save.
What an occasion that must have been
in Washington, Dec. 17, 1850, when
Jenny Lind sang “Home, Sweet Home,”
the author of those words, John Howard
Payne, seated before her. She had ren
dered her other favorite songs, “Casta
Diva” and her “Flute Song,” with fine
effect, but when she struck “Home,
Sweet Home,” John Howard Payne rose
under the power, and President Fillmore
and Henry Clay and Daniel Webster and
the whole audience rose with him. Any
thing connected with home ransacks our
entire nature with a holy power, and
songs that get well started in the nur
sery or by the family hearth roll on after
the lips that sung them are forever silent
and the ears that first heard them for
ever cease to hear.
I preach -this sermon just before many
of you will go oirt to pass days or weeks
in the country. Be careful how you
treat the birds. Remember they are
God’s favorites, and if you offend them
you offend him. He is so fond of their
voices that there are forests where for a
hundred miles no human foot has ever
trod and no human ear has ever listened.
Those interminable forests are concert
halls with only one auditor—the Lord
God Almighty. He builded those audi
toriums of leaves and sky and supports
all that infinite minstrelsy for himself
alone. Be careful how you treat his fa
vorite choir.
In Deuteronomy he warns the people,
“If a bird’s nest "chance to be before thee
in the way in any tree or on the ground,
whether they be young ones or eggs, thou
shalt not take the dam with the young,
that it may he well with thee and that
thou mayest prolong thy days.” So you
see your own longevity is related to your
treatment of birds. Then go forth and
attend the minstrelsy. Put off startling
colors, which frighten the winged song
sters into silence or flight, and put on
your more sober attire and move noise
lessly into the woods farther and far
ther from the main road and have no con-
self and all who should come after him
more alert and more worshipful amid
the sweet sounds and beautiful sights of
the natural world. There is an old
church that needs to be rededicated. It
is older than St. Paul’s or St. Peter’s or
St. Mark’s or St. Sophia’s or St. Isaac’s.
It is the cathedral of nature. That is
the church in which the services of the
millennium will be held. The buildings
fashioned out of stone and brick and
mortar will not hold the people.
Again the mount of Olives will be tiie
pulpit. Again the Jordan will be the
baptistry. Again the mountains will be
the galleries. Again the sides will he
the blue ceiling. Again the sunrise will
he the front door and the sunset the
hack door of that temple. Again the
clouds will he tiie upholstery and the
morning mist the incense. Again the
trees will he the organ loft where “the
fowls of heaven have their habitation,
which sing among the branches.” St.
Francis d’Assisi preached a sermon to
birds and pronounced a benediction upon
them, but all birds preach to us, and
their benediction is almost supernal.
"While this summer amid the works of
God let us learn responsiveness. Surely
if we cannot sing we can hum a tune,
and if we cannot hum a tune we can
whistle. If we cannot he an oriole, we
' can be a quail. In some way let us dem
onstrate our gratitude to God. Let us
not be beaten by the chimney swallow,
and tiie humming bird, and the brown
thrasher. Let us try to set everything
in our life „o music, and if we cannot
give the carol of the song sparrow take
the plaint of the hermit thrush. Let
our life he an anthem of worship to the
God who created us, and the Christ who
ransomed us, and the Holy Ghost who
sanctifies us. And our last song! May
it he our best song! The swan was
thought by the ancients never to sing
except when dying.
In the time of Edward IV no one was
allowed to" own a swan except he were
a king’s son or had considerable estate.
Through 100 or 200 years of life that bird
was said never to utter anything like
music until its last moment came, and
then lifting its crested beauty it would
pour forth a song of almotf matchless
thrill, resounding through the groves.
And so, although the struggles of life
may be too much for us and we may
find it hard to sing at all, when the last
hour comes to you and me, may there he
a radiance from above and a glory set
tling round that shall enable us to utter
a song on the wings of which we shall
mount to where the music never ceases
and the raptures never die.
“What is that, mother?” “The swan, my love;
He is floating down from Ills native grove.
No loved one, no nestling nigh—
He is floating down by himself to die.
Death darkens his eye and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last lie sings.
Live so, my child, that when death shall come,
Swanlike and sweet, it may waft thee home!"
ODDS AND ENDS.
No man is a hypocrite in his pleasures,
—Johnson.
Rub a creaking hinge with a very soft
lead pencil.
Cut roast beef thin and other meats
rather thick.
In a poor country the first want is tiie
want of money.
Marshal Ney was a cooper's son, and
himself a notary.
Among tiie people of Java cockchafers |
are a favorite food.
There are two sorts of philanthropists, I
tiie mechanical and tiie sympathetic. |
Horses must-ho cheap in Buenos Ayres,
where even the beggars can afford them.
Blond were the throe representative
theological virtues—faith, hope and
charity.
Them that lias china plates themsels
is the maist careful no to break the china
plates of ithors.
Twenty-five million dollars’ worth of
rough diamonds wero found in South
Africa last year.
A Spanish adage tells ns that "woman
is like a chestnut, beautiful without and
decayed within.”
Every time a man scolds the neigh
bors leauu the troubles his family are
trying to conceal.
Knowledge that is not clearly com
municable by its possessor is almost a
useless possession.
Tiie first record taken by American as
tronomers of an eclipse was ou Long Is
land on Oct. 27, 1780.
In 21 of the firms engaged in tiie prac
tice of law in this country husband and
wife are professional partners.
Ten of Missouri’s governors and near
ly all of Illinois' great men, except Grant
and Douglas, were of Kentucky birth.
The microscope made by the Munich
Optical institute for the Chicago fair
magnifies 11,000 diameters and is worth
$8,750.
A bruise may be prevented from dis
coloring by immediately applying hot.
water, or a little dry starch moistened
with cold water.
Hood’s Cures
Annie L. Armen
Of Augusta, Ky.
Pleased
With Hood’s Sarsaparilla—For Tet
ter and Blood Impurities
Stronger and Better in Every Way.
“I have been more than pleased with nood’»
Sarsaparilla. I liavo suffered with tetter break
ing out on my face and alt over my body all my
life. I never could find anything to do It good
until I began to take Hood’s Sarsaparilla. I
have now used about eight bottles, and Oil, It has
done me so much good that I have the utmost
faith in It and recommend It to everyone. Beside*
purifying my blood, it has made me so much
stronger and better I do nut leel like the same
person at all.” Annie Arnes, Augusta, Ky.
Hood’s Pills act easily, yet promptly and
efficiently, on tho liver and bowels. 25o. ,
Fad For Fargo Portraits.
The proper caper just at present is to
have one’s portrait done in oil, a very de
lightful caper if one can afford it. It is
about the costliest fad, however, which
has fastened itself on the money lockers
of the fashionables. Still society, so
called, is always willing to amuse itself
with fads. None of the fashionable
portrait artists care to devote their time
to a portrait for which they will receive
less than $1,000.
Porter, whoso exquisitely painted Mrs.
Duncan Elliott when she was Miss Sallie
Hargous, has just completed one of Mrs.
Abram S. Hewitt. Mrs. Theodore Have-
meyer caught tiie craze and has hanging
at tiie end entrance to the art gallery in
her town house on Madison avenue a
life size portrait of herself, for which tiie
is said to have paid tiie artist, Muller-
Vry, over $5,000. The same artist’s por
trait of Dr. Depew cost tiie latter gen
tleman nearly $4,000. Mrs. Havemeyer’s
is life size, and the canvas, together with
the frame, covers a space fully 15 feet
in width and length.
Mr. Vry is very shortly to commence
a portrait of Mrs. Charles Yerkes, and
apropos of this it is said that in the lum
ber room of her house in Chicago there
is stored away a portrait of this hand
some woman for which she paid the ar
tist some $15,000. The story of the pic
ture is similar to that regarding Mrs.
Mackay’s picture by a famous artist—it
too truthfully resembled her.—New
York Press.
MW
I,'"
I KEEP COOL*
inside, outside, and all the way through,
by drinking —- ,
HIRES’
This great Temperance drink;
is as healthful, us it is pleasant. Try it*
FOR r>YSPKFRIA,
Indigestion, and Stomach disorders, take
BHOWK S IRON RITTERS.
All dealers keep it, SI per bottle. Genuine has
crude-mark and crossed red lines on wrapper.
A beauuuil ittyiish Shoe
for Ladies.
Ribbons ami Their Uses.
Apart from "the enormous use of rib
bon in millinery of this season, this fas
cinating kind of garniture is also im
mensely displayed on dresses of all
kinds, whether for tiie street or house,
daytime or evening, morning robe or
dancing gown.
The names bestowed njjon the ribbon
bows which- gaylv decorate the fashion
able gowns are as fanciful as the shapes
of these hows themselves.
Among them there are “donkey’s ears,”
“windmills." “butterflies,” “satyr’s
horns,” "choux or cabbage hows,” tor
sades or twists, rosettes, “loop clusters”
and triple and quadruple as well as sin
gle “streamers.” Then there are “ra
ven's wings” of black satin ribbon for the
decoration of bright pink, scarlet and
light green growns, and “bat's wings”
of black gauze ribbon for the purpose of
artistic contrast with bright orange and
vivid yellow. The effects produced are
very striking and greatly heighten the
appearance of the fabrics worn.—Do
mestic Monthly.
A Designer of Battleships.
Lieutenant Nixon, who designed the
cruiser New York, which beat all rec
ords the other day, is a graduate of the
Annapolis academy, but left the navy to
ehter the shipyards of the Cramps. The
battleships Indiana and Massachusetts
are being built from his designs. Lieu
tenant Nixon was sent to England to
study naval architecture, but seems to
have surpassed his teachers.
IT FASTENS ITS IIOLB
—upon you before you know it. It
is sure to be in the air we breathe,
the water we drink. The germ of
Consumption is everywhere present.
The germ begins to grow as soon as
it readies a weak spot in the body.
Catarrh, Bronchit is, and a scrofulous
condition, furnish these weak spots.
The way to fight these germs—begin
early—render the liver active and
purify the blood with Dr. Pierce’s
Golden Medical Discovery. Besides,
it builds up healthy flesh.
It’s guaranteed in all bronchial,
throat and lung affections; every
form of scrofula, even Consumption
in its earlier stages. If the “Dis
covery ” fails to benefit or cure, you
have your money hack.
Fortify yourself against disease
by making the body germ-proof,
then you will save yourself from
grip, malaria, and many of the
passing diseases.
Is mnde to expand with every motion of the foot;
it retains its stylish shape when other shoes give
way and break. It is the best shoe made.
PRICES, $2, $2.50, $3, $3.50.
Consolidated Shoe Co., Mfrs., Lynn. Mass.
For sale by the loading Shoe dealers in West
Point, Ga.
ADAMS & BROTHER.
(Agents wanted everywhere.'
WHAT DO YOU take medicine
■® for? Because you want to get well,
or keep well, of course. Remember
Hood’s Sarsaparilla Cures
FRAY BENTOS
is a town in Uruguay, South Araerlcaon the
river Plate. It would not Oe celebr ed ex
cept that It Is where the celebrated
Liebig Company’s
EXTRACT OP BEEF
comes from, and Id the fertile grazing fields
around It, are roared the cattle which are
slaughtered—1,000 a day—to make this fa
mous product, which Is known ’rouni the
world as the standard for
QUALITY, FLAYOR AMD PURITY.
BEATTY’S ORGANS and PIANOS *83 up.
Want agent. Catalogue Free. Address
DANIEL F. BEATTY, Washington, N. J.
It cures Catarrh in
Head — perfectly and
manently — Dr. Sage’s
tarrh Remedy.
the
per-
Ca-
1b... now it’ll liS ll»., . n-/fl
(faction ol 15S It*., and I feek a
91,000 and b. put bMk where I
of th* chance. 1 recommend
obeelty. WUli
PATIENTS TREATED BY MAIL. CONFIDENTIAL
Htrwlma, ud with mnafarrl**, Inconvenience, or bad effect*.
For particular* addr***, with 6 cant* fa tumpe,
BL 0. W. r. SNYDER. N VICKtl’S UEATCr. CIICISO. ILL
JfefkOPk Agent’s profits per month. Will
prove it or pap forfeit. New ar-
I cles just out. A $1,60 sample and terms free
ry us. CHID ESTER & SON, 28 Bond st„N.Y
All First-Class Druggists.
From present date will keep on sale the Im
ported East India Hemp Remedies. Dr. H.
James’ preparation of this herb on its own
soil (Calcuuttt),"will positively'cure Conminp-
tion, Bronchitas, Asthma, and Nasal Ca
tarrh, and break up a fresh cold in 24 hours
$2.50 per bottle, or 3 bottles $6.50. Try it.
CHADDOCK <fe CO., Proprietors,
1032 Race Street, Philadelphia.
ORS. COLEMAN & MITCHELL,
(Graduates Philadelphia Dental College,)
Having purchased the practice of Dr. J. A.
Chappie, are prepared to perform all opera
tions pertaining to the practice ofDentisfc*Br
and respectfully solicit the patronage of the
people of LaGrange and surrounding country.
Teeth extracted without pain by the use of
Nitrous Oxide Gas. Specialties—Crown and
bridge work and operative dentistry.