Newspaper Page Text
4^4
8
THE SUNNY SOUTH.
A UNIQUE ENTERTAINMENT.
Novel entertainments are always eager
ly sought, and one of the best was de
scribed in an exchange the other day. A
table was arranged with twenty-one num
bered places, in each place being some
thing to represent the name of a well
known book.
The guests were given all the time they
wanted to guess the book designated by
their number.
The plan brought out a deal of merri
ment and made the affair charming.
For those hostesses who are on the look
out for new'things and bright, this may
suggest a happy evening.
Here are some or' the hooks meant and
the symbols used. Better cut it out for
future reference.
A nickel represented “Hard rash.’’ by
Charles Reade.
A rabbit with the syllable printed in its
ears for Cooper’s ‘'Pioneers."
A vase containing a full blown rose rep
resented Miss Alcott's "A Rose in
Bloom."
A slipper, whose heel was dangling
loose, personated "Lucile," by Owen
Meridith.
A picture of a befrizzled coon, with a
smile of happy content, was the “Black
Beauty.”
The letter O, printed in the reddest red,
represented Hawthorne’s "Scarlet Bet
ter.”
A card bearing date March 16 claimed to
be George Eliot’s "Middle March."
The figure 1 followed by the word wait
ing represented Edna Lyall's "Won by
Waiting.”
T'ne cross-bones of a chicken's shanks
represented "Drumsticks," by Captain
Charles King.
A doll, with head twisted around, with
averted gaze, represented Bellamy's
“Booking Backward."
A representation of Cuhan and I'nited
States flags with a match beneath,
Ouida's “Under Two Flags."
A candle with a toothpick wick, upon
which were impaled some papers, gave
Dickon's "Pickwick Papers."
A tall, slim letter A. with a macron
above to indicate its long value—in no
sense A broad—for Mark Twain' 'Inno
cents Abroad. ”
Put the clever members of the family
together and you can get out many more
like these.
The American habit of osculation is the
present bee in the British bonnet, and
what between errors of judgment and
errors of English, so Ineffable a thing as
a kiss seems liable to become imbedded
in the criminal code.
About three weeks ago Miss E. Mar
guerite Bindley before the Household
Economics association of New York di
lated on the evils of promiscuous kiss
ing. The welded tenderness of two pairs
of lips, she urged, was simply a senti
mental fashion of conveying contagion.
Bet ween women it was indicative of in
sincerity. It was uncleanly, unwhole
some—what not? Children were but inno
cent victims of this obnoxious custom. In
conclusion Miss Bindley’s friends were ad
vised. on pain of her instant displeasure,
to withstand the temptation to kiss her
at any time.
“I shall resist it to the utmost." she
said. "I simply won't have it."
The next day’s papers commented on
the passing of the kiss. The English
and French papers copied the comment,
and the radical view taken of our woman
kind and our kissing may he judged from
the following extract from the Bondon
Sun:
“The various American state legisla
tures are considering a number of pro
posals for the extension of the penal code.
The latest proposal is by one Mrs. Mar
guerite Bindley, representing the Wo
man's Rights association, who has intro
duced a bill into the New York legisla
ture to prohibit kissing as immoral and
dangerous.”
Anti-osculatnrs are deluging the bewil
dered Miss Bindley with letters.
ARCHERY IN AMITY’S STREETS
The military students of Tung-Chou
(China) are a conspicuous nuisance. They
have a way of using one of the main
streets in the city as a convenient spot
for practicing archery, and we have been
repeatedly obliged to edge up to the ex
treme edge of the footpath to avoid the
possible eccentric flights of arrows.
Charasteristically, it never occurs to
them to suspend operations for others’
safety or convenience, and minor acci
dents must not be uncommon. A lad was
brought to the hospital the other day
who had been struck by an arrow just
below the eye as be wi,edging f 1 .->ng
the highway. He was n.jt badly hurt,
and probably regarded his injury as in
cidental to the ordinary risks of travel
on city streets.
JACK THE INVENTOR
BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
“Yes, but that—that ” hesitated the
young man, his face flushing.
"I know what you mean,” replied Jack,
quickly. “To deprive you of what's yours
is a crime punishable by imprisonment,
and you hate to have such a thing con
nected with any one in your family. But
it's not your fault, and you ought to have
your rights.”
es, but the publicity?” faltered Mont.
“Oh. pshaw! you don't owe the public
anything!" exclaimed the young machin
ist, somewhat impatiently, so anxious was
he to see Mont get his rights. "Perhaps
the affair can be settled privately.”
“I wish it could,’ 'returned the young
man, eagerly. “I would sacrifice a good
deal to have it done in that way.”
Mont's nature was a shrinking one. Had
he been less diffident it is probable that
he would have*lemanded an account from
Felix Gray long before this.
“How will you approach your uncle?”
asked Jack. “Have you any proofs to
show that all is not right?"
"I think I have. During the fire I help
ed carry out a desk from the library, and
the other fellow let his end fall, and hurst
open one of the drawers. The contents
rolled out on the ground, and in putting
the papers hack I came across a bundle
marked with my father's name. I was at
first going to put it with the rest, but as
matters stand, changed my mind, and
pocketed it. I took it down to the office,
but haven't been able to examine it, ex
cept in a general way. And then those
documents from the yacht ”
“Here they are,” replied Jack, produc
ing them. “You have some, too,"
"Yes, quite a bundle."
Mont undid them, and tried to read some
of the faded manuscript.
“It's too dark to see much.” he observ
ed. “If I'm not mistaken, my father
wrote everything that is here.”
"It’s queer that Pooler should leave all
those things on the yacht undisturbed,”
returned the young machinist. “One
would think that such a man as he would
have ransacked the boat from stem to
stern."
“He certainly must have a reason," said
the young man. “Or else—I've been
thinking—he may be a little off in his
mind. Did you notice what a restless look
his eyes had?”
“Yes. as if he expected to be nabbed by
some one.”
“What Mosey and Corrigan and my un
cle do there heats me.”
“And then the yacht. Was your father
on board when he died?”
"I don't know. I always supposed he
was at home, and never asked about It.”
Both felt that for the present at least,
the solution of this question was beyond
their power to reach, and they lapsed
into silence.
They ‘were now near the old mill, and
remembering the kit he had dropped when
I he discovered Mosey, Jack made a search
I for it.
"What aro you looking for?” asked
Mont.
“My tools. I dropped—gracious, listen!"
A shrill, girlish voice penetrated the air,
6: >'2iri. ruc-k b: .) n _'th A hcar^
“Help! Jack! Help!"
“It's Deb!" he ejactulated. “She is in
trouble!" and he ran toward the old build
ing, closely followed by Mont.
It took hut a few seconds to reach the
place. The door was tightly closed, but
with one heavy kick the young machinist
burst it open.
They were astonished at the sight with
in.
There was Corrigan—his red face red
der than ever with rage—and in his arms
her hair flying, and her dress plainly
showing the effects of her terrible strug
gle for liberty, was poor Deb!
(To Be Continued.)
Author of "Under Dewey at Manila, 1 * "A Young Volunteer in Cuba,”
"Young Auctioneers/' "Richard Dare's Venture."
COPYRIGHT 1892 AND 1899 BY THE AUTHOR.
Ckaptor XIK.—Mont’s Btory.
As Jack and Mont journeyed on the way
to Corney, the young machinist noticed
that the young man was rather silent,
and when spoken to only replied in mono
syllables.
"I suppose he’s speculating about those
papers and stranded yacht.” thought
Jack "Perhaps they will be valuable to
him when he comes to settle up with his
uncle. I'd just like to know what inter
est father had in that tool machinery.
Perhaps the patent is stil! ours, or a roy
alty on it. As soon as I find Deb, and
things are settled a bit. Pm going to in
vestigate the whole subject.”
Jack's surmise concerning Mont was
correct.
“What do you think of my uncle?” ask
ed the young man, after a long period of
silence.
“What do I think of him?” asked the
young machinist in turn. “In what way?"
"M hy, as to his dealings with people in
general.” t
"Well, I—I—really, Mont, I don't want
to say anything that will hurt your feel
ings," stammered Jack, not wishing to he
harsh with so dear a friend, and yet de
termined to speak only the truth.
“Never mind my feelings. Just speak
your mind.”
Jack was silent a moment.
“I think he's outrageously mean and
close!” he burst out. “He doesn't treat
you. nor any one else in the tool works,
fairly! He’s the hardest master to work
for In the town!"
The young machinist could he blunt
when the occasion demanded, and he did
not mince matters now.
"I guess you are right.” replied Mont,
shaking his head affirmatively. “And yet
” he hesitated.
“What?”
“I hardly dare say what is in my mind,
Jack. But I want a friend's advice."
‘“And I’ll give it willingly.”
“And keep the matter to yourself?"
"Certainly, if you wish it.”
“Then I've got this to say about ray
uncle, Felix Gray,” declared Mont. “He's
either treating me first rate—which I
don’t believe—or else he is the worst
scoundrel in Corney!”
Jack was dumfounded.
“The worst scoundrel in Corney!” he
repeated almost breathlessly. "You sure
ly don’t mean it!"
"Yes I do.” replied the young man, de
cidedly.
“Don't think I say so hastily. I've
thought over the matter a long time.
Things can't go on as they do much long-
yrso-’ s ■
jtn’
IfUritj TTnlnt ALL tloc r.illo.
Best Cough Syrup. Tasies Good. Csc
in time. Sold by druggist*.
Sprnsmmmxir
er. and when the break comes. I want
somebody to know my side of the story.”
“Yes, go on.”
In the first place, you must remember
that Mr. Gray is not my full uncle. He
and my father were only half brothers,
so we are not so closely connected as
people imagine."
"That's so,” replied Jack, trying to
catch a glimpse of what his friend was
driving at.
"My father was ten years younger than
his step-brother.” continued Mont, slow
ly. “He was quite well off, having been
left considerable money by an old aunt,
who always took a great interest in him.
My uncle Felix induced him, shortly after
receiving his inheritance, to locate at
Corney, and both became equal partners
in the tool works.”
"On your father’s capital?”
"So I always believed; his brother put
ting his experience and command of trade
against my father's money.”
"Then you really own a half interest in
the works!” exclaimed Jack, in surprise.
"So I always believed. But listen. My*
father died suddenly, it was said. I re
turned home in time to hoar*his will read.
In this, his property, was left to me as
the only surviving member of the family,
with Felix Gray as the sole executor and
my guardian.”
"It was a good deal to trust in his
hands.”
"I suppose my father had unlimited con
fidence in his brother. I trusted him, too,
and continued at school for three years
longer.
“When seventeen years old I returned
home, and asked him if I was not old
enough to take an active position at the
works, and then he offered me my pres
ent clerkship, and astonished me by as
serting that my father had sqandered
most of his wealth by extravagant living,
and that several hundred dollars was all
there was remaining of my share.”
"And you think?" began the young ma
chinist, who was beginning to see through
the situation.
"What would you think. Jack?” asked
the young man, earnestly. "My father
lived well—owned the yacht we just left,
and all that—but was on the whole, I've
been told, a prudent man. Now you know
my uncle, what do you make of the mat
ter?”
"Did Mr. Gray ever offer to let you ex
amine the accounts?"
"Only those at the tool works, but not
the private ones at home.”
“Then, to say the least, he is certainly
not acting as a guardian should." declar
ed Jack. "And I think you would be per
fectly justified in demanding an examina
tion."
"That's your honest opinion?”
“It is, Mont. If he is acting right he
won’t mind it, and if he isn't why the
sooner you find out the better. From
my own experience I am sure he would
stoop nretty low to Increase his wealth or
position.”
Chapter XX.—Corrigan Makes a
More.
Both Jack and Mont had had surpris
ing adventures in plenty, but both of them
agreed that none of them equalled the
present one.
The noise in the room prevented Corri
gan from hearing their entrance, and it
was not until Jack's strong hand grasped
his arm that he realized the sudden in
trusion. and let go his hold upon Deh.
As for the poor giri. she was too ex
hausted to speak, but with a glad look
of recognition, sank back in a faint, sup
ported by Mont, who sprang forward to
prevent her from falling to the floor.
“You miserable coward!" exclaimed the
young machinist, his blood boiling at a
fever heat. “What do you mean by beat
ing my sister in this way?”
With a strong push of his powerful arm
he sent the man flying into a corner. It
was lucky that he had no weapon in his
hands, or Corrigan's career might have
received a severe set hack.
“Are you hurt?" asked Mont of Deb, as
the girl presently opened her eyes and
gave a little gasp.
“I—I think not.” she replied, slowly.
“Oh. how glad I am that both of you
came when you did!”
“What brought you here?” asked the
young man.
“I was looking for Jack.”
Meanwhfle Corrigan had risen to his
feet, and stood in a corner, his chagrin at
being caught showing itself plainly upon
his face. Jack faced him, his hand
clenched, ready to strike instantly, if
necessary.
“Well, what have you got to say for
yourself?" demanded the young machin
ist.
Corirgan offered no reply. The sudden
turn in affairs was something he could
not understand. He bit his lip and tried
to put on a bold and careless front, but
the effort was a failure.
“He stole your model. Jack!" cried Deb.
“go I heard.” replied her brother. "What
have you done with my property?" he
added to Corrigan.
“I haven't anything of yours,” was Cor
rigan’s cool reply. “It's all a mistake."
“No. it isn't. Jack; it’s the truth,” reit
erated the girl earnestly.
“You went into my house and took that
model by force,” continued the young
machinist. “You see, I know all about
it, so you might as well give up the thing
{ft once.”
While speaking. Jack had unconscious
ly stepped to one side. With a sudden
movement Corrigan slipped past him, and
made for the door.
But the young machinist was on the
alert, and before the man could realize
It. he was sprawling on the floor, with
Jack on top of him.
By intuition, he appeared to feel that
it would he useless to struggle, and so
lay perfectly still.
“I’ve a good mind to bind .you. hands
and feet,” said Jack. “Close that door,
will you, Mont?” he added to his friend.
“Will you let me go if I give up the
model?” panted Corrigan, who began to
feel the weight of Jack’s heavy body upon
his chest.
“I don’t know, but you’ve got to give
it up, anyway.”
“I suppose it's hidden here,” put In
Mont. “That’s probably the reason he's
hanging around the place.” •
“Wherever it is you will never find it
without being told,” broke in Corrigan.
For well known reasons he was anxious
to get away. . . ^ .
“Oh. let him go. Jack!” exclaimed Deb.
“I don’t care, now I’ve got you—and
Mont"—the last words with a grateful
look at the young man, that caused him
to blush. Jack thought the matter over
carefully. He was not of a vindictive na
ture, and bore no personal ill will against
Corrigan.
“What do you think of it? he whisper
ed to Mont.
"Might as well let him go if he gives up
your property," replied the young man.
"It would be rather hard for us to manage
him.”
“Then give up the model and you can
leave,” said the young machinist to Cor
rigan. “But I never want you to come
around me again.”
“Give me your word on letting me go it
I give it up?” asked the man, with an
eager look.
“Yes.”
“Come on, then.”
Corrigan led the way to the upper room
of the mill. Unlocking the bolt of the
door, the little parry of three entered.
“There it is,” said the man, pointing to
a corner; “you will find it up there, back
of that beam,” and he pointed to an
angle in the roof, about eight feet from
the floor. , . .
“Give me a boost up, Mont," exclaimed
The young man caught him by the hips,
and held him up as best he could.
“It's here, sure enough!” cried tne
young machinist, and from out of a dim
recess he brought forth the model, cov
ered with dust and cobwebs.
So interested were the two that they
did not notice Corrigan back out from
the room and close the door behind him.
“I'm glad it's safe!” exclaimed Jack,
as he placed the precious burden upon
the floor. .
“I was afraid—Hello—what’s that.
The. creak of the holt sounded in his
ears, and in an instant he noticed the
closed door.
“He’s gone!” ejaculated Mont, in aston
ishment.
The young machinist sprang to the door
and shook it vainly.
"Trapped, by Jinks!” he exclaimed.
“Here, quick! we'll break it down!”
With all force hoth threw themselves
against the wooden barrier.
Unfortunately the door was an old-fash
ioned one, thick and solid, and it stood
firm.
“We’re caged, and no mistake!” cried
the young man, nearly breathless from
his repeated exertions. “Hist! Bisten!
Pale as a sheet. Jack did as bidden.
There was a struggle going on below.
They heard Deh shriek several times.
“Great heavens, what is he doing?”
continued Mont.
“We must get out," exclaimed Jack, de
terminedly.
“Now! One, two, three!”
Bang!
The door groaned. It bent out at the
bottom, but still held its own.
“Try it again! Now!”
Bang! Crash!
A thin split through one of the panels,
but that was all. Jack jumped over to
the model.
“What are you going to do?" asked
Mont, perplexed.
“Cut our way out." was the reply.
Taking a small screw-driver from his
pocket, the young machinist loosed one
of the sharp knives of the miniature plan
er. As he dkl so there came a scream
from beyond the road.
Jack was again back to the door. How
rapidly the chips flew! Hurrah! he had
made a hole through!
He put in his finger.
i yor reach the bolt?" asked the
-> •
Not quite.”
Again the chips flew. The hole grew
larger.
“Here. Mont, try your hand. It's small
er than mine.”
The young man did so. With a painful
squeeze he pushed through the opening,
and catching the bolt by his thumb, threw
it back.
Jack then opened the door, and rushing
out. jumped down the steps four at a
time.
“Come on!” he called back to Mont, who
was vainly endeavoring to release his
hand. “I think he's gone down the
road.”
The young machinist was not long In
reaching the outside. But once there he
came to a full stop.
Neither his sister nor Corrigan were
anywhere to be seen!
In a few seconds Mont appeared, the
back of his hand bleeding from the
scratching it had received.
"Where are they?” he gasped, tying his
handkerchief over the wound.
"Blessed if I know!" exclaimed Jack.
He ran to a bend in the road, and then
back again. Not a soul to be seen any
where!
Meanwhile, the young man examined
the river bank. All was quiet and undis
turbed. The sun had set fully an hour
before, and the twilight, especially under
the trees, was fast deepening.
"We can't trace them in the dark.” re
marked Mont, as they stopped for consid
eration.
“We’ve got to do it.” declared the
young machinist: “I’m going to find Deb
if it takes a week.”
"Then I’m with you. Jack. Come on.”
"It turns in my mind that they must
have taken that road.” said Jack, as he
pointed to one that led down the riv»r.
“Well, we might as well take that as
any other.” returned Mont. "He must
certainly have carried her in his arms.
an d_*vell. I declare! Isn't that her hair-
ribbon?” and he picked up a streamer of
brown from the roadside.
Jack examined it.
“You’re right.” he replied. “We are on
the direct way to overtake them. Come!"
Both started on a run. They soon pass
ed the falls, and came to a clear spot
on the bank of the river.
Mont uttered a cry.
"Book! Book!" he exclaimed, pointing
out in mid-stream. “There they are in a
boat: Corrigan is making for Blackbird
Island!”
(To Be Continued.)
ADVICE TO PARENTS.
(Continued from Page Twelve.)
cent piece. Children are taught to reduce
morals and religion, time and eternity, to
vulgar fractions. It seems to be their
chief attainment that 10 cents make a
dime and ten dimes make a dollar. How
to get money is only equaled by the other
art, how to keep it. Tell me, ye who
know, what chance there is for those who
6tart out in life with such perverted senti
ments.
The money market resounds again and
again with the downfall of such people.
If I had a drop of blood on the tip of a
pen, I would tell you by what awful trag
edy many of the youth of this country are
ruined.
Fn«hion’i Hollowness.
Further on thousands and tens of thou
sands of the daughters of America are sac
rificed to worldliness. They aro taught to
be in sympathy with all the artiflcialties
of society. They are inducted into all the
hollowness of what is called fashionable
life. They are taught to believe that his
tory is dry, but that 50 cent stories of ad
venturous love are delicious. With ca
pacity that might have rivaled a Florence
Nightingale in heavenly ministries or
made the father’s houso glad with filial
and sisterly demeanor their life is a waste,
their beauty a curse, their eternity a dem
olition.
In the siege of Charleston, during our
civil war, a lieutenant of the army stood
on the floor beside the daughter of the ex
governor of the state of South Carolina.
They were taking the vows of marriage.
A bombshell struck the roof, dropped into
the group, and nino were wounded and
slain, among the wounded to death the
bride. While the bridegroom knolt on the
carpet trying to stanch the wounds the
bride demanded that the ceremony be com
pleted that she might take the vows be
fore her departure, and when the minister
said, “Wilt thou be faithful unto death?”
with her dying lips she said, “I will!"
and in two hours she had departed. That
was the slaughter and the sacrifice of the
body, but at thousands of marriage altars
there are daughters slain for time and
slain for eternity. It is not a marriage.
It is a massacre. Affianced to some one
who is only waiting until his father dies
60 he can get the property; then a little
while they swing around in the circles,
brilliant circles; then the property is gone,
and, having no power to earn a livelihood,
the twain slink into some corner of so
ciety—the husband an idler and a sot, the
wife a drudge, a slave and a sacrifice. Ah !
Spare your denunciations from Jephthah’s
head and expend them all on this whole
sale modern martyrdom 1
A Mlfditr Influence.
I lift up my voice against the sacrifice
of children. I look out of my window on
a Sabbath, and I see a group of children
unwashed, uncombed, un-Christianized.
Who cares for them? Who prays for them?
Who utters to them one kind word? When
the city missionary, passing along the
park in New York, saw a ragged lqd and
heard him swearing, he said to him: “My
son, stop swearing! You ought to go to
the houso of God today. You ought to be
good. You ought to be a Christian. ” The
lad looked in his f,»ce and said: “Ah, it
is easy for you to talk, well clothed as
you are and well fed. Butw^ chaps hain’t
got no chance!” Who lifts them to the
altar for baptism? Who goes forth to
snatch them up from crime and death and
roc? Who today will go fru-rh and bring
them into schools and churches? No; heap
them up, great piles of rags and wretched
ness and filth. Put underneath them the
fires of sacrifice, stir up the blaze, put on
more fagots, and while we sit in the
churches with folded arms and indiffer
ence crime and disease and death will go
on with the ngonizing sacrifice.
During the early French revolution at
Bourges there was a company of boys who
used to train every day as young soldiers,
and they carried a flag and they had on the
flag this inscription, “Tremble, Tyrants,
Tremble; We Are Growing Up.” Mightily
suggestive! This generation is passing off,
and a mightier generation is coming on.
Will they be the foes of tyranny, the foes
of sin and the foes of death, or will they
be the foes of God? They are coming up!
I congratulate all parents who are doing
their best to keep their children awnv
from the altar of sacrifice. Your prayers
are going to be answered. Your children
may wander away from God, but they will
come back again. A voice comes from the
throne today, encouraging you, “I will be
a God to thee and to,thy seed after thee.”
And though when you lay your head in
death there may be some wanderer of the
family far away from God, and you may
be 20 years in heaven before salvation
shall come to his heart, he will he brought
hundred miles
An Hour To Be Made on This New
Single Rail Railroad.
An English inventor lias built a railroad
on which trains run regularly at the rate
of 100 miles an hour, and frequently at
tain a speed ofYrnm two to three miles a
minute. And it is a practical achievement
with full sized cars capable of carrying
inn passengers each, go practical indeed
that P. B. Behr, the inventor, has just
formed a syndicate for constructing a line
on his new system between Biverpool and
Manchester He calls it the “Bightning
Express Railway.” It will make the dis
tance of about 30 miles in 20 minutes, in
cluding stops. Between stations the cars
will frequently attain a speed of two
miles a minute.
The trains run on a single rail set sev
eral feet above ground on trestle work,
and the motive power is furnished by
electricity. The. cars somewhat resemble
a big oblong bun. turned upside down,
with wheels set thick along the part that
answers for the bun crease, and hedged
about with guide wheels, so that it can
not jump the track along which it is pro
pelled.
Work on the Biverpool and Manchester
road will begin within a few months. The
first line, of the kind built by Mr. Behr
near Brussels, Belgium, has been in oper
ation several months.
I CATARRH I
CONSUMPTION
At I hav« spent nearly fifty years in the treatment of
the above named diseases, and believe I have efferted
more genuine cures than any specialist in the history rj
of medicine. **As I must soon retire from active life 99*
I will, from this time on, send the means of treat- Ofi
men* and cure, as used in my practice, F l( I.E and .W
post-paid to every reader of tnis paper who suffere
from these annoving and dangerous diseases. This is
a sincere offer which anyone is free to accept. Address, ^
_. Prof. J. H. Lawrence. 114 W.82d St.. New fork d»
FREE “
A. positive, quick and lasting cure for Constipation,
indigestion. Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Kidney ana
Liver Diseases, Poor Blood, Rheumatism, Corpulency,
etc. Thousands of testimonials from grateful
people who have been cured. We send the Medicine
free and post-paid. You Save Doctors’ bills and get
well. Good Agents wanted. Write to-dav. Address
EGYPTIAN DRUG CO..Box X.New York.
ICUREFITS
When I say I cure I do not mean merely to
stop them for a time and then have them re
turn again. I mean a radical cure. I have made
the disease of FITS, EPILEPSY or FALLING
SICKNESS a life-long study. I warrant my
remedy to cure the worst cases. Because
others have failed is no reason for not now
receiving a cure. Send at once for a treatise
and a Free Bottle of my infallible remedy*
Give Express and Post Office.
Prof. W.H.PEEKE, F.D., 4Cedar St..N.Y.
into the kingdom, and before the throne ot
God you will rejoice that you were faith
ful. Come at last, though so long post
poned his coming. Come at last!
I congratulate all those who are toiling
for the outcast and the wandering. Your
work will soon be over, but the influence
you are sPtting in motion will never stop.
Long after you have been garnered for the
skies your prayers, your teachings and
your Christian influence will go on and
help to people heaven with bright inhab
itants. Which would you rather see,
which scene would you rather mingle in
in the last great day, being able to say,
“I added house to house and land to land
and manufactory to manufactory; I owned
half the city; whatever my eye saw I had,
whatever I wanted I got,” or on that day
to have Christ look you full in the face
and say, “I was hungry, and ye fed me: I
was naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick
and in prison, and ye visited me; inas
much as ye did it to the least of these my
brethren, ye did it to me?”
INSUFFICIENCY.
What shall we say then ? That our brother’s
crimes
Augur our own diseases; that his hurts
Imply our shames; that the same bond en
girt s
Alike the man who lapses and who climbs;
That formulas and credos, when divorced
From the great spirit of all pervading ruth,
Leave still the lean and thirsty world athirst
For the deep heart and blessedness of truth;
That in the noblest there is something base
And in the meanest noble; that behind
The sensual darkness of the human face,
Not to be quenched by any adverse wind.
Enough of God’s light flickers for a sign
That our best possible is his divine.
—Richard Realf.
Carter’s new. mill, near Lakeland, Fla.,
has just been completed and is the larg
est saw mill in south Florida.
DAYS’
FUEE
TRIAL
GIVES
SlREiiSTH
AND
VIGOR.
PROF. A. CRYSTAL.
To men who have battered their stom
achs with drugs I want th^m to exercise
their judgment and consider that elec
tricity is the greatest power on earth.
Quickly puts life and force into whatever
it touches. Gives instant relief and never
fails to cure Rheumatism. Backache.
Kidney Troubles. Early Decay, Night
Rosses. Back of Nerve Force and Vigor.
Nervous Debility, Ur.development and
Bost Vitality. You may not have faith
in it now, but wear it for 30 days free on
trial and you will then realize why I
have such confidence in it as to send it
to you on trial as I do. Remember, if
after the thirty days’ trial you are not
satisfied return the belt to us and it
will cost you nothing. Write today for
illustrated Pamphlet with references and
signed testimonials. Sent free in plain,
sealed envelope. Prof. A. Crystal. In
ventor. 505 Postoffice Block, Marshall,
Michigan.
STOPPED FREE
Permanently Cured
insanity Prevented b*
DR. KLINE’S 6RZAT
VERVE RESTORER
Posit! vs sore fbr *11 Ksvuous Lia fasts, Fits, Epilepsy,
*pasms cmd Si. Vitus' I>ance. hoFitaorNervousase*
•ftcr first day's use. Treatise and $8 trial bottle
free to Fit patients, they psyin*express cbyResonly
when received. Send to Pr Kline, Ltd. Kellemo*
Institute of Medicine. 931 Arch St.. Philadelphia. Pa,
D
R. DIX’S
Celebrated Female Pow
ders never fail. lo,o<y> La
dies declare them safe and
suro [after failing with Tansy and Penny-
roj«al PillH.] Particulars 4 cents.
Dr. S. T. Egan, Revere, Boston, Mas3.
FREE TO LADIES.
! We will give one lady In each town or village a fall
i tfzed $2 ease of LlXfRA, the only Toilet article In
; the world that will develop the bust or any part or tns
i female form, remove wrinkles, ete. Write to-dav fot
I It. G. SI. WIGGINS. 112 West S2d Street. New Stork.
HENRY D. CAPERS.
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
(Piedmont Insurance Building.,
Charlotte, N. C.
Practices In the Supreme Court of tht
United States, and the State and Feder
al courts. Jy 2-tt
— PHOTO GOODS —
OF EVERY DESCRIPTION.
KODAKS, CAMERAS, LENSES, CHEMICALS. MOUNTS, ETC*
GLENN PHOTO-STOCK CO.,
4 WHITEHALL STREET.
ATLANTA, GA.
FROM THE
MANUFACTURER
At wholesale prices,and save two or three profits. This pic
ture represents our No. A. LEATHER TREE SADDBE, the
only genuine leather tree saddle made. The tree in this sad
dle will last a lifetime.[Prize] It is almost indestructible. It is
the most comfortable saddle ever ridden, and the only one
that will not hurt any horse. PRICE $12.00. For men
weighing more than 150 pounds the price will he from $1.00
to $1.50 extra. SEND US $1.00. and we will ship you this
saddle C. O. D. Examine it at your station, and if satisfac
tory. pay the balance with the express charges to the
agent. WRITE FOR OUR FREE CATALOGUE OF
SADDLERY' AND HARNESS; it will open your eyes on
goods and prices.
KENTUCKY SUPPLY CO., 719-721 W. Hain St., LOUISVILLE, KY.
YU
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