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HYPOCRISY REBUKED
WHAT WAS IT THAT CHRIST WROTE
IN THE DUSTt
Dr. Talmaca Explain* the Story ot the
Saviour and the Sinning Woman—Sym
pathy For the Penitent Boundleu
lloean of Divine Morey.
(Copyright, 1818, American Frets Ano-
WASHISGTON, July 81,—In this dis
course Dr. Talmage gives heroic treatment
of a delicate subject and applies to mod
ern society th® lesson taught by Christ on
a memorable occasion ; text, John viii, 6,
“Jesus stooped down and with his finger
wrote on the ground. ”
You must take your shoes off and put
on the especial slippers provided at the
’ door if yeu would enter the Mohammedan
mosque which stands now where once
stood Herod’s temple, the scene of my
text. Solomon’s temple had stood there,
but Nebuchadnezzar had thundered it
down. Zerubbabel's temple had stood
there, but that had been prostrated. Now
we take our places in a temple that Herod
bqjlt, because he was fond of great archi
tecture, and he wanted the preceding .tem
ples to seem insignificant. Put eight or
ten modern cathedrals together, and they
would not equal that structure. It cov
ered 19 acres. There were marble pillars
supporting roofs of cedar and silver tables
on which stood golden cups, and there
were carvings exquisite and inscriptions
resplendent, glittering balustrades and
ornamented gateways. The building of
this temple kept 10,000 workmen busy jO
years. <
In that stupendous pile of pomp and
magnificence sat Christ, and -a listening
throng stood about him when a wild dis
turbance took place. A group of men are
pulling and pushing along a woman who
had comitted a crime against society.
When they have brought her in front of
Christ, they ask that he sentence her to
death by stoning. They are a critical,
merciless, disingenuons crowd. They
want to get Christ into controversy and
public reprehension. If he say, “Let her
die,” they will charge him with cruelty.
If he let her go, they will charge him with
being in complicity with wickedness.
Whichever way he does they would howl
at him.
Then occurs a scene which has not been
sufficiently regarded. He leaves the lounge
or bench on which he was sitting and goes
down on one knee or both knees, and
with the forefinger of his right hand he
begins to write in the dust of the floor,
word after word. But they wore not to bo
diverted or hindered. They kept on de
manding that he settle this case of trans
gression, until ho looked up and told them
they might themselves begin the woman’s
assassination if the complainant who had
never done any thing wrong himself would
open the fire. “Go ahead, but bo sure
that the man who flings the first missile
is immaculate. ” Then he resumed writ
ing with his finger in the dust of the floor,
word after word. Instead of looking over
his shoulder to see what he had written,
the scoundrels skulked away. Finally the
whole place is clear of pursuers, antago
nists and plaintiffs, and whon Christ has
a finished this strange ohirography In the
* dust he looks up and finds the woman all
alone.
A Divine Judge.
The prisoner is the only one of tho
courtroom left, the judges, the police, the
prosecuting attorney having cleared out.
Christ is victor, and he says to the woman:
“Where are the prosecutors in this case?
Are they all gone? Then I discharge you.
Go and sin no more.” I have wondered
what Christ wrote on the ground. For do
you realize that is the only time that he
ever wrote at all? I know that Eusebius
says that Christ once wrote a letter to Ab
garus, the king of Edessa, but there is no
good evidence of such a correspondence.
The wisest being the world ever saw, and
the one who had more to say than any one
who ever lived, never writing a book or a
chapter or a paragraph or a word on parch
ment! Nothing but the literature of the
dust, and one sweep of a brush or one
breath of a wind obliterated it forever.
Among all the rolls of the volumes of
the first library founded at Thebes there
was not one scroll of Christ. Among the
700,000 books of the Alexandrian library,
which by the infamous decree of Caliph
Omar were used as fuel to heat the 4,000
baths of the city, not one sentence had
Christ penned. Among all the infinitude
of volumes in the libraries
of Edinburgh, the British museum or Ber-
* lin or Vienna or the learned repositories of
all nations not one word written directly
by the finger of Christ. All that he ever
wrote he wrote In dust, uncertain, shifting
dust.
. My text says he stooped down and wrote
on the ground. Standing straight up a
man might write on the ground with a
staff, but ’if with his fingers he would
write in the dust ho must bend clear over.
Aye, he must get at least on one knee
or he cannot write on the ground. Be not
surprised that ho stooped down. His
whole life was a stooping down. Stooping
down from castle to barn. Stooping down
from celestial homage to monocvatlo jeer.
From residence above the stars to where a
star had to fall to designate his landing
place. From heaven’s front door to the
world’s back gate. From writing in round
and silvered letters of constellation and
galaxy on the blue scroll of heaven to
writing on the ground in the dust which
the feet of the crowd had left in Herod’s
temple. If in January you have ever step
ped out of a prince’s conservatory that had
Mexican cactus and magnolias in full
bloom into the outside air, 10 degrees be
low zero, you may get some idea of
Christ’s change of atmosphere from celes
tial to terrestrial. Hojv many heavens
there are I know not, but there are at least
three, for Paul was “caught up into the
third heaven.”
Christ came down from the highest
heaven to the second heaven and down
from second heaven to first heaven, down
swifter than meteors ever fell, down amid
stellar splendors that himself eclipsed,
down through clouds, through atmos
pheres, through appalling space, down to
where there was no lower depth. From
being waited on at the banquet of the skies
to the broiling of fish for his own break
fast on the banks of the lake. From em
blazoned chariots of eternity to the saddle
of a mule’s back. From the homage che
fublc, seraphic, archangelic, to the paying
of 62% cents of tax to Caesar. From the
deathless country to a tomb built to hide
human dissolution. The uplifted wave of
Galilee was high, but he had to come down
before with his feet he could touch-it, and
the, whirlwind that arose above the billow
was higher yet, but he had to come down
before with his lip he could kiss it into
quiet. Bethlehem a stooping down. Naz
areth a stooping down. Death between
two burglars a stooping down. Yes, it
was in consonance With humiliations that
went before and self abnegations that
h< ' HOOPed |
How Christ Writes.
I YWW 1 » • I
In Greek or Latin or Hebrew, I cannot
say, for he knew all those languages, but
he Is still stooping down and with his fin
ger writing on the ground. In the winter
in letters of crystals, in the spring in let
ters of flowers, in summer in golden let
ters of harvest, in autumn in letters of Are
on fallen leaves. How it would sweeten
up and enrich and emblazon this world
could we see Christ’s caligraphy all over
it! This world was not flung out into
space thousands of years ago and then left
to look out for itself. It Is still under the
divine care. Christ never for a half sec
ond takes bis hand off of it, or it would
soon be a shipwrecked world, a defunct
world, an obsolete world, an abandoned
world, a dead world. “Let there be
light,” was said at the beginning, and
Christ stands under the wintry skies and
says, Let there bo snowflakes to enrich the
earth, and under the clouds of spring and
says, Come, ye blossoms,and make redolent
the orchards, and In September dips the
branches in the vat of beautiful colors and
swings them into the hazy air. No whim
of mine is this. “Without him was not
anything made that was made. ” Christ
writing on the ground.
If you could see his hand In all the pass
ing seasons, how it would Illumine the
world! All-verdure and foliage would be
allegoric, and again we would hear him
say, as of old, “Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow,” and we would not
hear in the whistle of a quail or the caw
ing of a raven or the roundelay of a brown
thrasher Without saying: “Behold the
fowls of the air. They gather not in
barns, yet your Heavenly Father feedeth
them,” and a Dominic hen of the barn
yard could not cluck for her brood but we
would hear Christ saying, as of old, “How
often would I have gathered thy children
together, even as d hen gathereth her
chickens under her wings, 1 ’ and through
the redolent hedges we would hear Christ
saying, “lam the rose of Sharon.” We
could not dip the seasoning from the salt
cellar without thinking of the divine sug
gestion, “Ye are £he salt of the earth, but
if the salt hath lost its savor it is fit for
nothing but to be cast out and trodden
under foot of men.”
Let us wake from our stupidity and .take
the whole world as a parable. Then, if
with gun and pack of hounds we start off
before dawn and see the morning coming
down off the hills to meet us we would
cry out with the evangelist, “The day
spring from on high hath visited us, ” or,
caught in a snowstorm while struggling
home, eyebrows and beard and apparel all
covered with the whirling flakes, we would
cry out with David, “Wash me, and I
shall be whiter than snow." In a picture
gallery of Europe there is on the ceiling
an exquisite fresco, but the people having
to look straight np, it wearied and dizzied
them and bent their nocks almost beyond
endurance, so a great looking glass was
put near the floor, and now visitors only
need to look easily down into this mirror,
and they see the fresco at their feet. And
so, much of the high heaven of God’s truth
is reflected in this world as in a mirror,
and things, that are above are copied by
things around us.
What right have we to throw away one
of God’s Bible A-aye, the first Bible he
ever gave the race? We talk about the Old
Testament and the New Testament, but
the oldest testament contains the lessons
of the natural world. Some people like
the New Testament so well they discard
the Old Testament. Shall we like the New
Testament and the Old Testament so well
as to depreciate the oldest—namely, that
which was written before Moses was put
afloat on the boat of leaves which was
calked with asphaltum—or reject the Gen
esis that was written centuries before
Adam lost a rib and gained a wife? No,
no I When Deity stoops down and writes
on the ground, let us read it
The Bible In Nature.
I would have no less appreciation of the
Bible on paper that comes out of the paper
mill, but I would urge appreciation of the
Bible in the grass, the Bible in the sand
hill, the Bible in the geranium, the Bible
in the asphodel, the Bible in the dust.
Some one asked an ancient king whether
he had seen the eclipse of the sun. “No,"
said he. “I have so much to study on
earth I have no time to look at heaven.”
And if our faculties were all awake in the
study of God we would not have time to
go much farther than the first grass blade.
I have no fear that natural religion will
ever contradict what we call revealed re
ligion. I have no sympathy with the fol
lowers of Aristotle, who after the'telescope
was invented would not look through it
lest it contradict some of the theories of
their great master. I shall be glad to put
against one lid of the Bible the microscope
and against the other lid of the Bible the
telescope.
But when Christ stooped down and
wrote on the ground what did he write?
The Pharisees did not stop to examine.
The cowards, whipped of their own con
sciences, fled pellmelL Nothing will flay
a man like an aroused conscience. Dr.
Stevens, in his “History of Methodism,"
says that when Rev. Benjamin Abbott of
olden times, was preaching he exclaimed,
“For aught I know therp may be amur
rierer in this house.” And a man rose
from the assemblage and started for the
door and bawled aloud, confessing to a
murder he had committed 15 years before.
And no wonder these Pharisees, reminded
of their sins, took to their heels.
But. what did Christ write on the
ground? The Bible does not state, yet as
Christ never wrote anything except that
once you cannot blame us for wanting to
know what he rbally did write, but I am
certain he wrote nothing trivial or nothing
unimportant, and will you allow me to
say that I think I know what he wrote on
the ground? I judge from the circum
stances. He might have written other
things, but, kneeling there in the temple,
surrounded by a pack of .hypocrites who
were a self appointed constabulary and
having in his presence a persecuted wom
an, who evidently was very penitent for
her sins, I am sure he wrote two words,
both of them graphic and tremendous and
reverberating, and the one word was “hy
pocrisy,” and the other word was “for
giveness.”
From the way these Pharisees and
scribes vacated the premises and got out
into the fresh air as Christ, with just one
ironical sentence, unmasked them I know
they were first class hypocrites. It was
then as it is now. The more faults and
inconsistencies people have of their own
the more severe and censorious are they
about the faults of others. Here they are,
20 stout men arresting and arraigning one
weak woman! Magnificent business to
be engaged In! They wanted the fun of
seeing her faint away under a heavy judi
cial sentence from Christ, and then, after
she had been taken outside of the city and
fastened at the foot of the precipice, the
scribes and Pharisees wanted the satisfac
tion of each coming and dropping a big
I as ixx.'S' [
Os saying that Christ never laughed, but I
think as he saw those men drop every
thing, chagrined, mortified, exposed, and
laugh to read of It. All of those liber
tines dramatizing Indignation against Im
purity! Blind bats lecturing on optics!
A flock of crows on their way up from a
carcass denouncing carrion I
Rebuking Hypocrisy.
Yes, I think that one word written on
the ground that day by the finger of Christ
was the awful word hypocrisy. What pre
tensions to sanctity afo the part of those
hypocritical Pharisees i When the fox be
gins to pray, look out for your chickens.
One of the cruel magnates of elden times
was going to excommunicate one of the
martyrs, and he began in the usual form
—“ln the name of God. Amen." “Stop!”
says the martyr. “Don’t say ‘in the name
of God!’" Yet how many outrages are
practiced under the gartj of religion and
sanctity I When in synods and conferences
ministers of the gospel are about to say
something unbrotherly and unkind about
a member, they almost always begin by
being ostentatiously pious, the venom of
their assault corresponding to the heaven
ly flavor of the prelude. About to devour
a reputation, they say grace before meal.
But I am sure there was another word
in that dust. From her entire manner I
am sure that arraigned woman was re
pentant. She made no apology, and Christ
in nowise belittled herein. Bather sup
plicatory behavior and her tears moved
him, and when he stooped down to write
on the ground he wrote that mighty, that
imperial word, forgiveness.
When on Sinai God wrote the law, he
wrote It with finger of lightning on tables
of stone, each word cut as by a chisel into
the bard granite surface. But when he
writes the offense of this woman he writes
it in dust so that it can be •easily rubbed
out, and when she repents of it, oh, be
was a merciful Christ! I was reading of
a legend that is told in the far east about
him. He was walking through the streets
of a city, and he saw a crowd around a
dead dog. And one man said, “What a
loathsome object is that dog!" “Yes,"
said another; “his ears are mauled and
bleeding." “Yes,said another; “even
his hide would not be of any use to the
tanner." “Yes," said another; “the odor
of his carcass is dreadful." Then Christ,
standing there, said, “But pearls cannot
equal the whiteness of his teeth. ” Then
the people, moved by the idea that any one
could find anything pleasant concerning
the dead dog, said, “Why, this must be
Jesus of Nazareth!" Reproved and con
victed, they went away.
Stirsly this legend of Christ Is good
enough to be true! Kindness la a« his
words and ways and habits I
Word of 11 letters, and some of them
thrones and some of them palm branches.
Better have Christ write close to our names
that one word, though he write it in dust,
than to have our name, cut into monu
mental granite with the letters that the
storms es 1,000 yteGci cannot obliterate.
Blshep Babington had a book of only
three leaves. The first leaf was
seeond leaf red, the third leaf white. TThe
black leaf suggested sin, the- red leaf
atonement, the white leaf purfflsation.
That * the whole story. God wRI abun
dantly.ptfrdon.
Sympathy Ear the Penitent.
I must not forget te say that as Christ,
stooping down, with his finger wrote on
the ground it is evident that his sympa
thies are with this penitent woman and
that he has no sympathy with her hypo
critical pursuers. Just opposite to that
is the world’s habit. Why didn’t these
unclean Pharisees bring one of their' own
number to Christ for excoriation and
capital punishment? No, no! They over
look that in a man which they damnate in
a woman, and so the world has had for
offending woman scourges and objurga
tion, and for just one offense she becomes
an outcast, while for men whose lives have
been sodomlo for 20 years the world swings
open its doors of brilliant welcome, and
they may sit In high places. Unlike the
Christ .of my text, the world writes a
man’s misdemeanor in dust, but chisels a
woman’s offense with great capitals upon
ineffaceable marble.
For foreign lords and princes, whose
names cannot even be mentioned in re
spectable circles abroad because they are
walking lazarettos of abomination, some
of our American princesses of. fortune
wait and at the first beck sail out with
them into the blackness of darkness for
ever. And in what are called higher cir
cles of society there is now not only the
imitation of foreign dress and foreign
manners, but an imitation of foreign dis
soluteness. I like a foreigner, and I like
an American, but the sickest creature on
earth is an American playing the foreign
er. Society needs to be reconstructed on
this subject. Treat them alike, masculine
crime and feminine crime. If you cut the
one in granite, cut them both in granite.
If you write the one in dust, write the
other in dust. “No, no,” says the world;
“let woman go down and let man go up. ”
What is that I hear plashing into the Hud
son or Potomac at midnight? And then
there is a gurgle as of strangulation, and
all is still. Never mind. It is only a
woman too discouraged to live. Let the
mills of the cruel world grind right on.
But while I speak of Christ of the text,
his stooping down writing in the dust, do
not think I underrate the literature of the
dust. It is the moat tremendous of all
literature. It is the greatest of all libraries.
When Layard exhumed Nineveh, he wan
only opening the door of its mighty dusk
The excavations of Pompeii have only
been the unclasping of the lids of a volume
of a nation’s dust. When Admiral Farra
gut and his friends visited that resurrected
city, the house of Balbo, who had been
one of its chief citizens in its prosperous
days, was opened, and. a table was spread
in that house which 1,810 years had been
burled by volcanic eruption, and Farragut
and his guests walked ovte the exquisite
mosaics and under tho beautiful fresco,
and it almost: seemed like being entertain
ed by these who 18 centuries ago had
turned to-dust. -ft t -•
Literature of ttse Dust.
Oh, thia mighty literature of, the dust!
Where are the remain* Mfwpacherib and
Attila and Epaminondas and Tamerlane
Bnd Trajan and Philjp Os Macedon and
Julius Gresarf Dust! Wfrarer ate'ihe he
roes who fought on both sides at Chaer
onea, at Hastings, at Marathon, at’Cressy,
of the H 0,650 men who fought Agin
court, of the-250,008 men wHb faoej death
at Jena; of the. 400,000 Whose armoKgllt
tered la the sub at'Wagram’, of tbe.1,000,-
000 men under Darius at Arbela, ’of the
8,641*,000 men under Xerxes at Thermep
yle? Dust! Where are the guests who
danced the floors of the Alhambra or tho
Persian palace of Ahasuerus? Dust!
Where are tho musicians who played or
the orators who spoke and the sculptors
Who chiseled and the architects who built
tn all the centuries except our own? Dust!
Where aro tha most of the books that onoe
90 books of history; all lost. The wort of I
dies of Plautus all gone but 20. Euripides
wrote 100 dramas; all gone but 19.
lus wrote 100 dramas; all gone but seven.
Varro wrote tbs laborious biographies of
700 Romans; not a fragment toft. Quin
tillanj wrote his favorite book on thooor
ruptlon'of eloquence,* all lost. Thirty
books of Tacitus lost, Dion Cassius wrote
80 books; only 80 Remain. Beroriiu* his
tory all lost. ■ Whhro there is one living
book there are a thousand dead books.
The greatest library in tho world, that
which has tho widest shelves and longest
aisles and the most multitudinous vol
umes aid tho vastest wealth, is the under
ground library. It is tho royal library,
tho continental library, the hemispheric
library, the planetary library, the library
•f the dust. And all those library oases
will ba opened, and all these scrolls un
rolled, and all these volumes unclasped,
and as easily as In your library or mins
we take up a book, blow the dust off of it
and turn over its pages so - easily will the
Lord of the resurrection pick out of this
library of dust every volume of human life
and open it it and display it, and
the volume will be rebound, to be set in
the royhl library of tho king’s palace or
in the prison library of the self destroyed.
Boundless Morey.
Oh, tills mighty literature of the dust!
It is not so wonderful, after all, that
Christ chose instead of an inkstand the
impressionable sand on the floor of an an
cient temple, and instead of a hard pen
put forth his forefinger with the same
kind of nerve and muscle and bone and
flesh as that which makes up our own
forefinger, and wrote the awful doom of
hypocrisy, and full and complete forgive
ness for repentant sinners, even tho w ( orst.
Wo talk about the ocean of Christ's mercy.
Put four ships upon that ocean and let
them sail out in opposite directions for
1,000 years and see if they can find the
shore of the ocean of the divine mercy.
Let them sail to the north and the south
and the east and the west, and then after
the 1,000 years of voyage let thorn come
back and they will report, “No shore, no
shore to the ocean of God’s mercy I"
And now I can believe that which I
read, how that a mother* kept burning a
candle in the window every night for ten
years, and one night very late a poor waif
of the street entered. The aged woman
said to her, “Sit down by the fire.” And
the stranger said, “Why do you keep that
light in the window?" The aged woman
said: “That is to light my wayward
daughter when she returns. Since she
went away, ten years ago, my hair has
turned white. Folks blame me for worry
ing about her, but ypuyse I am her moth
er, and semetimes mU- a dozen,times a
night I open the door i*d look apt into
the darkness and cry, ‘Lizzie!’ -Lizzie!’
But I must not tell you any mere about
my trouble, for I guess from the way you
cry you have trouble enough of y.our own.
Why, how cold and sick you seem I Oh,
my! Can it be? Yes, you are Lizzie, my
own lost child I Thank God that you are
heme again!” And what » time of re
joicing there was in thaf house that night!
And Christ again stooped down and in
tho ashes of that hearth,-now lighted up,
not more by the great blazing logs than
by the joy of a reunited household, wrote
the same liberating words that had been
written more than 1,*09 years ago in the
dust of the Jerusalem temple. Forgive
ness! A word broad enough and high
enough to let pass through it all the
... armies of heaven a million abreast on
< white horses, nostril te nostril, flank to
flank.
An Ordinance.
Be it ordained by the Mayor and Coun
cil of the City ot Griffin that from and
after the passage of this Ordinance:
Bee. Ist. That it shall be unlawful for
any person to damage, injure,' abuse or
tamper with any water meter, spigot, fire
plug, curb-box, or any other fixture or
machinery belonging to the Water Depart
ment of the City of Griffin; provided That
a licensed plumber may use curb 'service
box to test his work, but shall leave ser
vice cock as he found it under penalty of
the above section.
Sec. 2nd. It shall be unlawful for any
consumer to permit any person, not em
ployed by them, or not a member ot their
family, to use water from their fixtures.
Sec. 3rd. It shall be unlawful for any
person to use water from any spigot or
spigots other than those paid for by him.
Sec. 4th.. It shall be unlawful for any
person to couple pipes to spigots unless
paid for as an extra outlet.
Sec. sth. It shall be unlawful for any
person to turn on water to premises or add
any spigot or fixture without first obtain
ing a permit from the Water Department.
Sec. 6th. It shall be unlawful for any
person to allow their spigots, hose or
sprinkler to ran between the hours of 9:00
o’clock p. m. and 6:00 o’clock a. m., sot
any purpose whatever, unless there is a
meter on the service. Spigots and pipes
must be boxed or wrapped to prevent
freezing; they will not be allowed to run
for that purpose,
■Bee. 7th. The employes of the Water
Department shall have access to the
premises of any subscriber for the purpose
of£readlng meters, examining pipes, fix
tures, etc., and it shall be unlawful for any
person to interfere, or'prevent their doing
a».
Sec. Bth. Any person violating any of
the provisions oftheabovdordinance shall
be arrested and carried before the Criminal
Court of Griffin and upon conviction shall
be punished by a fine not exceeding one
hundred dollars, or sentenced to work on
the public works of the City of Griffin for
a term not exceeding sixty days, or be im
prisoned in tfee city prison for a term not
exceeding sixty days, either or all, in the
discretion of the court.
Sec. 9th. The employees of the Water
Department shall have the same authority
and power ot regular policemen of ths
City of Griffin, for the purpose of enforc
ing the above ordinance.
Sec. 10th. All ordinances and parts of
ordinances in conflict of the above are
hereby repealed.
ft aW Epilepsy, without
■mm ■ ■ W doubt treated and cur
-1 H. IQ ewuisate
gg years’ sundiag
Cure®
large bot
tle of his abeohrte care, free to aay sufferers
who may send their P. O. and Express address.
aaoaane*
Tn MOTHERS
■ v I I IlmlAWi
WE ARE ASSERTING IN THE COURTS OUR RrrtiT
'THE EXCLUSIVE USE OF THE WORD “CASTORIA," AND
“PITCHER’S CASTORIA,” AS OUR TRADEMARK.
Z, DR. SAMUEL PITCHER, of Hyannis, Massachusetts,
was the originator of “CASTORIA,” the same that
has borne and does now bear on enery
the sac-simile signature of wrapper.
This is the original “CASTORIA” which has been used in
the homes of the Mothers of America for over thirty years.
LOOK CAREFULLY at the wrapper and see that it is
the kind you have always bought on
and has the signature of wrap-
per. No one has authority from me to use my name except
The Centaur Company, of which Chas. H. Fletcher is President.
Do Not Be Deceived.
Do not endanger the life of your child by accepting
a-cheap substitute which some druggist may offer you
(because he makes a few more pennies on it), the in- ’
gradients of which even he does not know. *
“The Kind You Have Always Bought”
BEARS THE SIGNATURE OF
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Insist on Having
The Kind That Never Failed You.
YMC OKRTAUR ORMPARV, TT MURRAY RTRCCT, NtW YO«A CITY.
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—GET TOJJK —
JOB PRINTING
DONE A.T
The Morning Call Office.
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We have just supplied our Job Office with * complete line 01 StaUcnery
kinds and can get up, on short notice, anything wanted in the way at „
LETTER HEADS, BILL HEADS
STATEMENTS, > IRCULARB,
ENVELOPES, NOTES, ,
> MORTGAGES, PROGRAMS
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JARDB, POSTERS’
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DODGERS, E.J., EU
We Wj ue 'xet ine of ENVEIZTER ya ;Trtd : this trad*.
An ailracdvt POSTER cl aay size can be issued on short notice '
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Our prices for work of all kinds will compare favorably with those obtained *o»
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any office in the state. When yon want fob printing of*>ny ;<k»< lij tk n five
call Satisfaction guarantees.
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JLTala WORK DONE
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With Neatness and Dispatch.
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Out of town orders will receive
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prompt attention.
J.P.&S B.Sawtell.
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