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A FALLLN IDOL.
THE PROLOGUE, 3
Continued.
This was a very exclusive Idol, ..nd
a visit from It was esteemed as an
overwhelming distinction throughout
Mysore; in fact, it only went out once
a year to confer with an extremely
well-connected Idol of Vishnu at a
mandapam, or sacred rest house, half
way from their respective temples,
but on this occasion Ram Chunga’s
influence bad enabled the rule to be
relaxed In Siva’s honor.
Here it was accordingly, and a
rich pavilion was put up at. one end
of the compound, within which the
distinguished visitor was installs',
and, this done, the Brahmans entered
the temple and came out bearing the
wonder-working image of Siva, which
was hailed with acclamations while it
was being reverently deposited in the
pavilion by the side of Brahma.
And then, as the gods would neces
aarlly have many things to say to
one another, the hangings were
drawn, and the priests made a ring
round the pavilion, and stood guard¬
ing it from vulgar curiosity.
At last the gods had had sufficient
time to exchange views, and it was
time to gratify them with the minis¬
trations of the dancing girls, before
the united idols were placed upon tho
chariot and carried home together in
pomp.
So the tom-toms were rattled and
thumped with fervor, and the torches
made the compound light as day, as
the dancing girls, in robes of purple
anil orange and green, edged with
glittering silver tissue, prepared to
go through their dreamy and delib¬
erate evolutions, accompanied by
chants like tho cry of the midnight
cat, and Ram Chunga gave the sig¬
nal for the hangings to be drawn
back.
A universal shriek marked their
withdrawal, as the torchlight shed its
fierce glare upon the interior. Ram
Chunga grew green, and his teeth
chattered, as well they might; even
Acharya Chick, as he gazed from
afar, could hardly trust his eyesight.
For the sacred idol of Brahma was
broken into a dozen pieces; his arms
were planted, with considerable taste
and fancy, in various corners of the
floor; and worse still, the hardiy-won
idol of Siva was in the same plight,
its fragments arranged in a pyramid
upon the principal throne, upon tho
very summit of which squatted, with
a bland smile on its smug features,
the despised image of Chalanka, tha
least and lowest of the Jain tirthan
kars.
The haughty Ram Chunga, savage¬
ly accepting his defeat, wrapped his
shawl about him and made his way
through the shivering dancing girls
and awestruck villagers, out of the
precincts of the temple where he had
been so signally discomfited.
The Jains, realizing that their
“ugly duckling” of an idol had
proved more than a match for the
chief personages of the Hindoo myth¬
ology, now ventured boldly forth and
carried Chalanka’s image with re¬
joicing into the idol chamber, where
they were joined by Acharya Chick.
“Henceforth,” cried Murll Dass,
trumphantly, “our reverence is due
to Chalanka alone; he has delivered
us—ho has shown himself mighter
than the gods of old; mightier than
the blessed t.irthankars! Tell us, oh,
Father, is it not so?”
Acharya Chick looked at the idol
with an uncontrollable feeling of re¬
pulsion. “it is even so,” he said,
“and may he prove himself as benev¬
olent as he is mighty.”
« * *
From that hour the fame of Cha¬
lanka was established, and spreading
further with every day. The other
tlrthankars were entirely discarded
by the Jains of the locality, who
transferred their entire homage to
the last translated saint.
Thus, for some years, shrine and
idol flourished, and the village found
spiritual and commercial benefit from
the circumstance, until the bad times
came when Tippoo Sahib took it into
his ill-regulated head to force the
Mussulman faith indiscriminately
upon all his subjects.
Temples of various denominations
were wantonly destroyed, and tho
idols burled by their custodians until
brighter days should dawn; and pos¬
sibly some such fate as this befell
the shrine of Chalanka. for no rec-*
ord of it is to be found later than
the fall of Seringapatam and the an¬
nexation of Mysore by Great Britain.
Scene, London. T|me, 19th Century.
CHAPTER I.
Self-Restraint.
I love not less though less the show ap¬
That pear. love is merchandized whose rich
es¬
The owner’s teeming doth publish
where. tongue every¬
There are parts of London which
never seem to have been thoroughly
assimilated. Any one who Is at all
familiar with the metropolis will be
able to recall at least one neighbor¬
hood of this kind.
In one of the quietest and most un¬
impeachable roads in St. John’s Wood
there is a little two-storied house, or
rather cottage, with an acacia in
front, and at the back a long out¬
building whose big north light pro¬
claims its use.
U was, in fact, at the time of
which I am writing, the studio of a
young painter who was already be¬
ginning to be known in art circles,
and who was at work there on the
particular afternoon in early spring
with which the narrative opens.
Ronald Campion was too fond of
somewhat daring experiments to have
quite gained the confidence of the
British art patron, and, so far, such
praise as had been accorded him was
greatly in excess of the solid pud¬
ding.
He was not strictly a handsome
man, though his face bad a power
i and attractiveness of its own, and his
figure, would have appeared to ad¬
-
1 vantage in one of the becoming paint
ling suits in which many less well
favored men indulge, but while he
was not of the order of squalid geni¬
uses, there were no more traces of
an eye to effect in his dress than in
his studio.
So much engrossed was he that he
did not look around when the door
which communicated with the house
opened, and an elderly man with a
cross-grained walnut-colored face
made his appearance,“Mister Bab¬
cock to see you, sir,” he announced,
with a certain grim relish, as he
stood at the top of the short flight of
steps.
Campion muttered something
which did not sound like delight.
“Hang it, Bales, couldn’t you tell him
I was busy?” he said.
“Just precisely what I did tell
him,” said Bales, with an injured air;
“but It wasn’t no use; he's cornin’ in,
he is—wants to see you on important
business, ’cordin’ to him.”
As he spoke he stood aside to make
way for the visitor, who seemed to
have no misgivings as to his wel¬
come. “Well, my dear fellow, how
are you? Hard at it, as usual, I see.
Never saw such a fellow," he began,
in the tone of one who rallies an¬
other upon a rather ridiculous foible.
“I thought I’d drop in and look you
up—can’t stop long. I wanted to
see you about a little matter of
mine.”
And ho glanced at the model with
a meaning which Campion
not to understand, for he continued
to paint. “Well,” he said, "you won't
mind my going on? I can listen and
work too.”
“OB, I’ll wait till we are alone.
I’m not in such a hurry as all that.
I can take a look around till you're
ready,” said Babcock cheerfully.
He had come upon a large ease]
and canvas which had been rolled
into a corner, and which he now
wheeled out to the light. “I thought
I recognized her,” he cried. “Miss
Elsworth, by Jove—little Sybil!”
“It is Miss Elsworth,” said Cam¬
pion, rather coldly. “What of it?”
“What astonishes me is that Sybil
should never have breathed a word
about it to me—we’ve always been
such particular chums that it is odd
—she always carries all her little
troubles to me.”
“Perhaps this was too big to
carry,” said Campion.
“Ob, ah,” said Babcock, perfectly
unabashed, “that reminds me, I
pleased our dear Mrs. Staniland im¬
mensely the other day, brought a
chela to see her I had met out at
Bombay when I was over there.
You know what a chela is? sort of
budding Buddhist, sucking Mahatma.
’Calls himself Axel Nebelsen, Norwe¬
gian or Swede or something, I fancy.
Went out to India on some scientific
expedition, and turned Theosophist.
Now he’s over here, dining out and
advertising the religion. It hasn't
been started long, but it’s pushing its
way, don’t you know. And the wom¬
en run after him a good deal, queer
lookiug chap, talks till all’s blue—
ever meet him?”
“Never,” said Campion, “What
does he do?”
“Mild miracles—sort of parlor
prophet, don’t you know. Goes out
to dinner and pecks a little rice ail
the time, and then has a trance up¬
stairs over his teacup. Says he sees
everybody with an aura about him,
so have I—after dinner. And he’s
learning to manage his astral body,
but he daren't let it outside the door
yet. I think he’s a bit of a humbug
myself, but he amuses me.”
So Babcock rattled on, not much
caring whether he was listened to or
not, until he ran down, and Campion
hoped he was going in earnest.
Campion looked at him; he was
not distinguished or impressive look
ing. He was short, with dark hair
parted in the middle, a pale, rather
flabby face, a loose mouth; he had
done nothing so far except talk, and
was never likely to do more; but for
ail that, Lionel Babcock was a per.
sonage in his way; if he bored most
men, women found him both instruc
live and amusing; he was fluent and
self-assured; he was particularly well
off.
When he had gone Campion broke
into a laugh, which was rather sav
age than amused. Then he went to
the portrait and studied it. “Was
that ass right?” he was thinking;
'does that look on her face mean
boredom? isn't lsnt there mere a a touch toucn of or
something like sufferance on her lips?
It didn't strike me so while I was
painting her, and vet—and yet—con
found Babcock!”
He wheeled the big easel back into
the corner again, and returning to his
classical picture touched iu some de-
tails from the studies he had made
for them, but after a while he stopped
with an impatient sigh. "No good,"
he muttered, “I may as well stop
work for to-day—the light's getting
bad, too. I’ll go and get some calling
over; no, I’m hanged if I do, I’ll turn,
into the park.
And presently he was crossing one
of the canal bridges in the direction
of ihe park.
And, as it happened, Fate was kind
to him for this once; for while he
was inside the radius of enchant¬
ment, he saw a dainty figure coming
toward him from one of the bridges,
and the figure was that of the en¬
chantress.
As she came nearer there was the
least little dimple in her cheek; she
recognized him evidently, she stopped
and held out her hand, and even
called him by his Christian name.
Even that dull and unpleasant type
of person, the "most ordinary ob¬
server,” would have instantly sus¬
pected, from the manner of both, that
they were on terms of some intima¬
cy; and so they were, for they were
engaged.
CHAPTER II.
A Remonstrance.
There's a present for you, sir! Yes,
My thanks has to her able thrift, buy gift.
pet been to me a
—London Lyrics.
Ronald Campion had Indeed suc¬
ceeded in winning Mrs. Staniiand’s
niece Sybil, but the elder lady had
not as yet been consulted, and it was
by no means likely that the engage¬
ment would meet with her approval.
It had gone on for more than a
month now, this most unsatisfactory
of engagements. They saw one an¬
other hut seldom—indeed for part of
the time she had been away at East¬
bourne. She wrote, and her letters
were gay and affectionate; but when
be met her again she gave no sign by
her manner of greeting him that he
was more to her than others were.
It is true there were others present
at the time, and true that she con¬
trived to reassure him before he left
by some apparently careless speech,
to which her eyes and voice gave a
sweet and special meaning; but, for
all that, the strain was telling on his
self-respect, and he chafed under his
false position more and more.
What he suffered under Babcock's
reference to Sybil will after this ex¬
planation be readily imagined; and
now that by a happy accident he had
met her, he felt the time had come to
speak plainly.
She was the first, who spoke. "I
thought this was one of the things
we agreed we wouldn’t do?” she ob¬
served, though with no very great
show of displeasure.
“I didn’t know I should have the
luck to meet you just now,” he said,
“and you must let me speak to you
Sybil—there is something I want to
say.”
She arched her pretty eyebrows.
“Something serious?” she inquired.
“Yes, rather.’’
“Then suppose we find a seat
somewhere? I can be so much more
serious sitting down.”
They found a sheltered bench near
the water’s edge, where the wavelets
were lapping half-heartedly. “Now
tell me all about it,” she said, look¬
ing distractedly lovely as she settled
herself comfortably to listen.
“It's simply this, Sybil—I can’t
stand this secrecy any longer.”
“Oh, Ronald! but why? where
would be the fun if everybody
knew?”
“After all, Sybil, one doesn’t—at
least I didn’t—get engaged for the
fun of the thing; and if I had, I’ve i
had very little of it.”
"You might be serious without
being disagreable.”
"Is it disagreeable to object to
have to play an underhand part?”
“Very, because, don’t you see, papa
knows all about it—he must have
had your letter a fortnight ago.”
"But your aunt doesn’t—you know
how much she has done for me; I
never ought to have kept this from
her.”
“Ah! but you coudn't help your¬
self, you see!” cried Sybil gayly; “it
was my secret as well as yours, and
you were bound to keep it as long as
1 wished it kept.”
“And why were you so anxious to
have it kept?”
She was looking at him with med¬
itative eyes. "Will you have a lot of
little reasons, or one big one?” she
asked.
I should very much . prefer , the
real one,” he said, rather grimly.
“Well,” said Sybil, “the real one
was; I’d set my heart on having my i
portrait at the Grosvenor this year.” |
“I don't see the connection; if all j I
goes well, it must-be there now. Sir
C- , has seen ,, it, and „ , I only want) .
one more sitting to finish it.”
“And we're coming for that to-mor- 1
row. Yes, but you foolish Ronald, if j
you had told Aunt Hillary when you I
wanted to, do you suppose you would
ever havehadthechanceof finishing
it m time? Why, I should never have
been allowed to come near the studio.
till we knew what papa thought of
you—and perhaps not then—all these
weeks quite wasted! So that by that
little stratagem of mine (for 1
you
I might have known, if you hadn't been
; a goose, I never meant all I
j Sust ^ that stratagem I’ve saved you
! a whole year of fame—because I
j j have tl] at portrait quite made is going up my to mind make that
you
i famous. And, naturally,” she added,
! with a little laugh at her own vanity,
! i “I should like to be a little famous
^ _
“If that is all,” said Campion, “now
the portrait is safe, you can’t object
to my speaking out.”
“But I do!’’ she said; "don't telJ
Aunt Hilary yet, Ronald.” '-V
To be Continued.
i 1 £Tfe '—1
cuinba:j-<2?cftoof
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COM
MENTS FOR OCTOBER 31.
j
Subject: Paul a Prisoner—The Voy¬
age, Acts 27:1-26—Golden Text,
Ps. 37:5—Commit Verses 22-24
—Commentary on the Lesson.
TIME--A. D. 60, 61.
PLACE.—On the Mediterranean.
EXPOSITION.—I. Paul Tempest
Tossed. 13-19. Gentle breezes and
tempestuous winds alike await the
faithful servant of God (vs. 13, 14),
but both come from the same hand,
our Father's hand. It is He who
commandeth and raiseth the stormy
wind (Ps. 107:25). He maketh
winds His messenger (Ps. 104:4, R.
V.). Both the balmy south wind and
the fierce Euroelydon furthered Paul
on his course toward the imperial
city, where he was to give his testi¬
mony fa.’ his Master and toward the
New Jerusalem. The gentle breezes
from the south are more pleasant but
not more wholesome and useful than
the wild, howling northern gale. We
may all well thank God for that tem¬
pest, for to it we owe the precious les¬
sons of this chapter. If it should
ever be ours to face the terrors of a
cyclone, let us not forget from whom
it comes and whose loving purposes it
carries out. It was probably hard
for Paul during that fourteen days’
storm to discern the wise and gentle
hand of God in it, but it was there,
and we can see it now. It is interest¬
ing to note how, as the tempest over¬
took God’s faithless servant Jonah
(Jonah 1:4), faithful so also the tempest Paul.
overtook His servant
They were both sailing the same sea,
but one toward the duty to which
God appointed him; the other away
from the duty to which God appoint¬
ed him. God's most faithful servants
will not always find smooth sailing.
The child of God may always have
peace within (Phil. 4:6, 7; Is. 26:3;
Jno. 16:33), but he will not always
have peace without, That one who is
being fiercely tempest-tossed (v. 18)
does not prove at all that God has
ceased to look upon him with favor.
Paul was never nearer to God than at
this moment, when he was being
tossed pitilessly about by the raging
Mediterranean, and perhaps undergo¬
ing the throes of seasickness. Never
was Paul more faithful. Oftentimes
the best thing for us to do when thus
tempest-tossed is “to lighten the
ship” (v. 18). Many of us are car¬
rying too much cargo for such a
stormy voyage as this world presents,
and the tempest is God’s call to un¬
load (Heb. 12:1; Phil. 3:7, 8; Matt,
16:26).
II, ‘‘Be of Good Cheer, For 1 Be¬
lieve God,” 20-26. It was very nat¬
ural when neither sun nor stars shone
upon them for many days and no
small tempest lay upon them, that all
hope that they should be saved should
be taken away, but it was entirely
unnecessary. God is able to save in
the darkness as well as in the sun¬
shine and in the tempest as well as
in the calm. There was at least one
man on that boat whose hope was
not gone, for God had said to him,
“Thou must bear witness at Rome
also” (ch. 23:11), and he knew that
through storm or through sunshine
God would somehow get him to Rome
to give his testimony. Those were
manly words of Paul in verse 21. It
was not a mere taunt, “I told you
so,” but simply a deft reference to
the judiciousness of his former ad¬
vice that he might gain the more re¬
spectful hearing for his present
words. The darker and stormier the
night the likelier are the angels of
God to appear if we are indeed His
(v. 23; cf. ch. 18:9 and 23:11).
Sometimes they stand beside us and
we do not see them, we are so taken
up with the darkness and the howling
of the storm; Paul’s short descrip¬
tion of his relation to God (v. 23) is
full of meaning. It is a great thing
to look up to the infinite God and
say, “I am His;” to say it intelligent¬
ly and with a deep realization of its
meaning. It gives a blessed solem¬
nity to our entire life. It also gives a
sense of security. God can take care
of His own property (Jno. 10:28,
29). Paul did not stop with saying,
“Whose I am,” but went on to add,
“Whom also 1 serve.” Many say they
are His,’ but do not prove it by serv
ice. Paul loved to think and speak
of himself as the “servant of God”
(Rom. 1:9; 2 Tim. 1:3; Tit. 1:1).
It is a position of great dignity and
also of great security (Dan. 3:17,
26, 28; 6:16-20) and blessedness and
reward (Jno. 12:26). Much that is
called serving God is really serving
self. But Paul’s whole life was ser¬
vice rendered to God. “Fear not,”
that is what God's messengers are al¬
ways saying. Take up your concord
ance and look up the occasions upon
whictl Gocl says to His servants,
“Fear not,” “Be not afraid,” and sim
liar words. There may be fourteen
days' continuous storms and no sun
or stars appear, but God still says,
“Fear not.” God reveals His plan to
Paul, “Thou must stand before Cae
sar.” Well, then all the Eurocly
that ever struck the sea cannot
founder the ship on which Paul sails
until he is near enough the land to
swim ashore. His enemies thought
that. Paul must stand before Caesar
because he was a malefactor; the real
™ given there (cf. eh. ^ IsV.’Tau!
" when
b ilt tetter than he knew
j, e appealed to Caesar. It is a great
thing to have a godly man in the ship
in a storm (v. 24). It is a great
thing to have a godly man in the
home or the church or the commu
n ’ t5 ’- Mark well Paul s closing words
in verse 3o -
Process to Cheapen Ham
Told of at Packers’ Convention.
Chicago, Ill.—Ham curing by elec
taricity is one of the new wonders of
the age, as told at the conxention of
the American Meat Packers’ Associa
t i on . The idea originated with J. C.
Lincoln, of Cleveland, three and a
years ago. A ham he cured at
that time is good now.
The meat is placed in large vats
filled with a pickle composed of
sugar, salt and saltpetre, and exposed
to an electric current. The new
method will mean cheaper ham.
If (Ihe pulpit
A m mi
AN ELOQUENT SUNDAY SERMON BV
DR. ELBERT RUSSELL.
Theme: God’s Fatherhood.
Brooklyn, N, V.—The Rev. Dr. El
hert Russell, of Earlham College. In
diana, preached in the Friends’ Meet
Ing House, Sunday morning, on “The
Fatherhood of God.” There was a
large congregation. Dr. Russell’s
text was Lube 11:2: “And He said
unto them, when ye pray, say, cur
Father.” He said:
Fundamental in all our religion is
the conception of God. More or less
consistently all that we do in the way
of worship or service springs from
what we believe God to be, and what
we believe He wishes us to do and
be. It is important for us very fre
quentlv for the keeping of our re¬
ligion truly to go back to this funda¬
mental element in our religion. I
say our conception of God determines
our religion in so far as it is a con¬
sistent thing. If we believe that
God is a desnot we shall cringe and
fawn before Him. If we believe He
is a jealous God we shall walk softly
and not appear too prosperous in His
presence, lest in jealousy He smite
us. If we believe He Is an absent or
an impassive God, who neither knows
nor cares how we feel towards Him or
regard Him, then we shall go on our
way as if God did not exist, and shape
our course of action with reference to
our own desires, and we shall not
reckon with God. We shall say with
Job's friend, “Is not God in the height
of Heaven? What doth God know?”
There is a story from the East of a
certain Parsee who was performing
his devotions at the altar of fire, and
there drew near a Jew and a Chris¬
tian. The Jew, moved with jealousy
that men should worship the creature
instead of the Creator, said: “Do you
worship fire?” “No,” said the Parsee,
“we do not., we only worshin the
Great Spirit that manifests Himself
in the flame.” "What do you call that
spirit?” asked the Jew. "We cal! him
Ormuz. What do you name the in
finite One?” “We call Him Jehovah,”
said the Jew. “God of Gods and Lord
of Lords, the Great God and terrible.”
The Parsee answered, “Your name is
a great one, but it is awful.” Then
turning to the Christian, he asked:
“How do you name the Great. One?”
and the Christian said: “We call
Him Abba, Father,” and the Parsee
answered, “ Your name is the greatest
of all. but who gave you authority to
call the Infinite, Father?’’
Now, it is Jesus who teaches us
that. “Father.” robbed of its human
infirmities, of its evil, of its iimita
tions. is the name likest to God. If
ve would comprehend what is the
character of God and His attitnue
toward us we should come before Him
with the word “Father” upon our lips.
It is worth while for us to take the
conception, this revelation of Jesus of
God, and see what kind of religion is
consistent with it; how we, as chil
dren of our Father, should worship
Him and behave ourselves before Him
and talk of Him. Jesus has not left
us entirely to draw our own infer
ences. He told us to call Him Father.
I know that theologians dispute over
the question, whether it is right to
speak of the fatherhood of God to all
men. but certainly we shall be true to
Jesus if we talk of the fatherliness of
God. And we shall find that .Tesus
has something to say about God’s re¬
lation to the universe, to this world
of which humanity is so small a part.
The Pharisees believed In a distant
God, God on His throne afar off in
the seventh heaven, a majestic sover¬
eign, removed from the common
things of the world. They believed
the world was carried on through the
mediation of angels. They believed
that God once for all had given His
will for men’s conduct in the law,
that on some far off day men would
stand before Him and be examined
as to whether they had kept the law
and that only by some special provi
dence or miracle did God take a di
rect hand in the control of His uni
verse. TIiat was not the teaching of
Jesus. To Him the world was the
Father . s house. To those rabbis who
believed that God had spent six days
in making the world, He said, “My
Father worketh until now.” He could
say that His Father makes the sun
rise and sends the rain on the evil
and the good alike, clothes the lilv
and feeds the birds. God needs no
angel to tell Him what is going on
in the world. He knows our needs
before we ask and when we pray we
do not have to invoke some angel
to carry the petition, but simply say
in sincerity: "Our Father.” How
that changes the conception of re
llgion and our relation to God; bow
it fills the world with the presence of
the Divine! Far be it from me to
deny the possibility, or even the con¬
tinuous recurrence of the things we
call miraculous, but to anvone who
follows the teaching of Jesus the
miracle loses Its unique character for
our religious thinking and life. I
beiieve that Jesus turned the water
into wine (it was exceptional activity
of the Divine power), but I believe
that when the vine blossoms in the
spring and matures its fruit in the
fall, it is just as much the activity of
God as when Jesus performed the
miracle at Cana.
When Jesus teaches us to think of
God as Father, He calls attention,
first, to the likeness between our
spirits and the Spirit of God, as there
is a likeness between father and son
in nature; and secondly, to the love
that God, His Father, feels toward
taen.
We are made “in the image of
God,” whatever that may mean, and
we certainly bear a spiritual likeness
to God. Love and reason and power
of will in us, though finite and small,
mean the same in us that they do in
(jod.
We could not understand Him if
that were not true. In fact,
human sin is the unlike thing to
God.
The sinless man is the one that
most clearly shows what God is. Rev¬
elation between God and man must
be a process of man’s comprehending
God and realizing His purpose.
Avoid Trouble
Women, when threatened
with a mishap, should take
Cardni and prevent the trou*
ble irora occurring.
in your delicate condition
it will save yoa ranch pain
! and misery. Thousands have
j tried Cardni before confine¬
) ment and have found it oi
wonderful benefit.
©S3 CO
| I 1 Mrs. Fannie Nichols, cl V
Mexico, Mo., writes: *1351
| I year mishap 1 was and ihreaiened Win? oi Cardni with
1 a
helped me more than any
| other medicine. Now I have
I a fine healthy boy. 1 think
h Cardni the finest medicine I
know oi for female troubles,
1 and I wish ail sneering wo- ;>
I rasa would tryil. w
J Get Cardni.
Sold everywhere. E
41
Women! A
W,
W
1 n-wVlU B
x
fhnlipalm" i0i neaAija * 1 1 31 hiPTA ^ do W J
not Wait longer, J3Ut
._ Jaottle , r%
a Qi
iJF.OlTnnlOR.j K*
<? xr* VllXC- WT" Vv
1KLC5
VO'Ct^y . -j T-4- CUF£<»
• XL
!~lECOI T J?ilOScA CW! \ Vv ITIJLS/
lOUing rAKn-cf - wnmt) WtlfiLO, OVai»ia«. UViAt
PVm-m-TKI (^OlHliaS, « oC&IYL)' sr>s*-nTSr <ntrt OP
wrv/-xTii P pt " u<:,e mpngp q r-eiTtd Ci.HU.
a |] female t^Olx'MeS.
It is a tonic, also
pleasant *- > LO take and
WillHlElKe.yOU ,,, _ .
^
and Irealthy:
Take M.A.«5imirion,s
lxlVtii® Mp><3irinp 1 i l tV tr\
urn W Jl ( n OU ft flip e jecreuon «5£>rp<?tTnnS J
wptt.1 * mvT
U1 u ; cl l'niin
l-tonlLh “ ealU1WlU will tp ae UreU ’
Delay not. At all
druggists* * Write
CEoSiimnons Med.Gx
p JStllzcmis. Mo.
~
SOLD BY G. H. ARROWOOD,
SPRING PLACE, GA.
NEWSY GLEANINGS.
Prince Ito, of Tokio, arrived at
Dairin.
The Sultan of Morocco has sold the
Riff mines to a German company.
Four strong earth Shocks were felt
a (. jjessina, but little damage was
uone *
? res The f Company stock of the reached a * new a ‘jp.? high ri r
ievel 01 4,>y -
Commander Frederick C. Bieg, U.
S. N„ died at Washington, D. C.,
aged fifty-three.
Politics in England are still in a
chaotic state. A general election is
expected in January,
President Taft in Juarez, Mexico,
was the Mexican Executive's guest
at a | 50 0,000 banquet,
Police at Hong-Kong have re¬
vealed a plot to kill Liang-Tun-Yen,
President of the Wai-Wu-Pu.
H. A. Stevens was found dead in
his room in the Hotel du Nord some
hours after ordering a lunch of milk
an d raw eggs.
Ten thousand men—soldiers, uni
formed police and Russian and Italian
detectives—protected the Czar on his
visit to the King of Italy,
Physicians and charity organiza
tions urged the Board of Estimate, in
York City, to grant an increased
appropriation to fight tuberculosis,
Anth , ,, _ B f- .... ^ llsen ’ a .manufac
. f ^ere
„ was no
c ^ ari ce of cheaper P paper P until “ d a 6 sub- d
c v " re -
J. Eads How, "millionaire hobo,”
3 ust fr0I n Europe, says that the
problem of the unemployed would be
settled by the international congress
in Chicago in January.
Captain Cody bad a miraculous es
cape from death at the aviation meet
at Doncaster, England, when, in mak
a turn at great speed, his biplane
struck the earth and was wrecked.
,
Mrs. Clarence Maekay says that the
first thing women would do if they
had the right to vote would be to see
that the divorce laws are uniform.
The laws as at present, she says,
bring great suffering to women, and
they would have the matter regu¬
lated.