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T T ,~ - . T THE TRIPLE TIE A Story for Baseball Fans That Will Interest Every Lover of the National Game. $250 in Prizes for Best Solution of “The Triple Tie” Y OU read the first twelve installments of the f?reat baseball mystery story of "The Triple Tie” and now you have a fair Idea of the simplicity of the offer The Georgian makes—how you may win $100 by working out the solution of the mystery as nearly as its au thor, A. H. C. Mitchell, has done as you can. Mr. Mitchell has written the last chapter, but his copy is sealed up in a vault at the American National Bank. When all but this final chapter has been printed, The Georgian readers will be asked to submit to three competent Judges, none of them connected with this newspaper, their version of what the grand denouement should be. To the person who most closely approximates Mr. Mitch- ell's final chapter $100 will be awarded. Other prizes, making the total prize list $250, also will be distributed. Here Is the list pf the awards: No. 1 $100 No. 2 $50 No. 3 $25 No. 4 $15 Nos. 5 to 16, each 5 Read thirteenth installment of the great mystery story and you will not need to be urged to read the succeeding chapters. The story will grip you. As you read, try to follow the author’s channel of thought and when the time comes for you to sit down and write that final chapter, be ready to win one of the big cash prizes in The Georgian's great offer. By A. H. C. MITCHELL. Copyright. 1913, by International News Service. TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. “Why, er—” stammered Gordon, “you see. anytime you are gracious enougli to .allow me to see you 1 consider that a particular matter.” Gordon was talking like* a bashful schoolboy now. Mildred saw his embarrassment and bantered him for some little time before he found him self on an even keel once more. At parting, she said: “When are you coming around again to tell me all about your bus iness affairs as you have this even ing?” “Now you are having fun with me^ Miss Deery, I haven’t told you any- thing - about my business affairs." “I know you haven't, but you start ed to and then changed your mind. 1 don’t believe you have any business affairs at all. You just wanted an excuse to come and see me.” said Mildred, with an adorable smile. Gordon laughed. “You’re a wizard 1 own up. I confess. I plead guilty and throw myself on the mercy of the court. What is the sentence, please? “Let me see." She pondered deeply. “I think I will defer sentence until next week. You are ordered to ap pear before me on Monday evening at 8 o’clock. Fail not at your peril.” “No fear of that.” he answered earnestly. Gordon Kelly walked home on air again, but with a vague feeling that he had simply postponed the crash that was bound to come. He be rated himself for his cow-ardice in not telling Mildred frankly just what was occupying his time. He was like the man with an aching tooth w'ho puts off a visit to the dentist. When Kelly had gone. Mildred Deerv seated herself in a chair, cross ed her hands in her lap and gazed for a long time at nothing in par ticular. “There's something on that younR man's mind that Is troubling him, she murmured at last. "X wonder what It is?” t CHAPTER XIV. A ND now came what might be called the semi-final test for Gordon Kelly. The big league clubs of the North had finished their hard training grind and were wmrking back home in easy stages, playing ex hibition games in the Southern cities on the way. Several of these big league clubs had games scheduled with the Atlanta team. Bain in the past week bad seriously interfered with the training plans of Manager Billy Smith and his team was not in as good physical condition as he would have liked to have had it. But the stormy weather had prevailed throughout the South and all the Clubs training in that territory had suffered alike. The exhibition games were needed by all the clubs to put on the finishing touches, before the championship races in the various leagues began. The first of the big league clubs to put in an appearance in Atlanta, was the Boston Nationals, under the man agement of George Stallings, a Geor gian himself by birth and with a warm spot in his heart for all native Southern ball players. Stallings’ team lacked several of the ingredi ents which go to make pennant win ning combinations on the ball field, so that astute manager had his eyes peeled for any likely looking talent that might show itself on any of the opposing teams his club might run up against. Kelly’s Debut. The Boston and Atlanta Clubs were to play a series of three games. When the Atlanta players went to the field fo preliminary practice on the first day. Stallings singled out Gorden Kelly in about ten seconds and what time he didn't devote to directing his own team he put in sizing up the "phe nomenal ball player who had never played a game of ball." It was to be Kelly's debut as a bail player in a real game. The fact had been widely advertised. The newspa pers printed the batting order and Kelly’s name was in it. Bill Smith, manager of the Atlanta team, had decided to put him in left field and place him fifth in the order of bat ting. Under ordinary conditions 1 here would not have been more than . 1,000 spectators out to see the open ing exhibition game of the season, hut the magic name of Gordon Kelly While on the Pacific Coast read the San Francisco Examiner drew a crowd of more than 8,000 to Ponce DeLeon Park. Atlanta lost that first game, 4 to 2, but Gordon Kelly’s debut was of the most sensational kind. His side was retired in order in the first inning and he did not go to bat. nor did he have a chance in the field, as no bait went in his direction. In the second inning VVelchonce, who had just join ed the Atlanta Club, led off with a safe hit that landed over the Boston shortstop’s head, and it was then Kelly’s turn at bat. A tremendous outburst of applause greeted him as he stepped to th£ plate, as cool, apparently, as a piece of ice. With Welchonce dancing off first base, Bill Smith became a live wire in the coaching box and im plored Kelly through his megaphoned hands to “pick out a good one. kid.” Kelly stood calmly facing the oppos ing pitcher, in the Anson-like pose, and allowed three balls to go past him without making a move. Then the pitcher tried, to sneak over a curve-ball for the second strike. It was a fatal move. Kelly stepped forward and his bat crashed into the ball. There was a sound like that of a shingle on mamma’s pet and the sphere sailed far over the Boston cen- terflelder’s head. Long before it could be relayed back to the diamond Kelly had circled the bases with Wel chonce ahead of him. Around the Bases. With the crack of the bat pande monium broke loose in the stands and deafening yells followed Kelly around the bases and across the plate. Bill Smith ran up and patted him on the back. “That’s the stuff, kid; you're all right,” and as the applause continued to thunder from the stands, the man ager added: "Take off your cap to the crowd.” Not knowing the professional ball players’ way of acknowledging ap plause by giving the vizor a per functory Jerk with the hand and looking as solemn as a stage tragedi an, Kelly bared his head completely and bowed, and a smile that lit up his face radiantly and showed his rare set of teeth bespread his fea tures. The cheers did not cease un til Kelly had made himself as small as possible on the players' bench. The next time up, in the fourth in ning, Kelly started the uproar again by driving a three-bagger to right, but there were two out at the time and he was left on third without being able to score. In the sixth in ning the opposing pitcher was either afraid of him or couldn't locate the plate and he received a base on balls. His last chance to shine at the bat came in the eighth Inning. The Bos tons had in the meantime scored four runs, and the score was 4 to /2. Two men were on the bases when Kelly walked to the plate and the crowd arose and .cheered ham like a con quering hero. His response was sud den and terrific. He drove the first hall pitched like a rifle shot on a line toward right field, but it went directly at Sweeney, the Boston sec ond baseman. That old warhorse was nearly knocked down by the force of the impact of the hall, but he clung to it and then tossed it to first, completing a double play and retiring the side. The stands groaned at this piece of hard luck. That was the last chance Atlanta had that day. Stallings Gets Busy. As soon as the game ended. Man ager Stallings, of the Boston club, sought out Manager Smith, of the Atlanta club. “What do you want for that fel low?” demanded the Boston man. “What fellow'?” asked Smith in re turn. “You know w r ho I mean—that mys- terioso that never played a game of ball before to-day. What will you take for him?” “Nothing doing on him, George. I’d like to oblige you, but I can t let that kid go." Stallings used all his wiles as a baseball diplomat, but Smith wouldn't budge. Not satisfied to let the matter rest there, how r ever, Stallings sent a telegram to the president of the Bos ton club, James E. Gaffney, urging him to take the first train for At lanta on a deal of the utmost im portance. Within thirty hours Mr. Gaffney was in Atlanta. There en sued a series of conferences between Gaffney and Stallings on one hand and President Callaway, the directors of the Atlanta club, Messrs. A. G. Ryan and C. T. Nunnally, and Man ager Smith on the other. But Gaff ney’s hasty trip South was in vain. Bill Smith wouldn’t give his consent to the transfer of Gordon Kelly to the Boston club, in spite of the most liberal kind of offers, and the direc- ors of the club stood by their man ner. other big league clubs came to At- 'iiia, played their scheduled exhi- tlon games and departed. All of rn made determined efforts to se- *•< the services of the great Gordon ,iv. All offers were refused. To be Continued To-moi'row. FOOTPRINTS ON THE RESTAURANT FLOOR Have You Ever Watched 'Em? Maybe You Look Just as Foolish! MARITAL BONDAGE By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER. A By LILIAN LAUFERTY. W HEN you sit down to the gentle art of eating, how much do you remember about the gentler arts of grace and beauty? Oh, no, I am not insinuating that you are one of those "gobble, gobble, git” people, or even our old friend, the Goop—do you remember the immortal verse: "The Goops they lick their lingers, The goops they use their knives; They spill their broth on the tablecloth, They lead such nasty lives!” Now, ho v about you—do you "sit at meat” or do you dispose of yourself as if you were a collection of arms and legs to be draped over the linen napery and around the chair rungs? Silks and satins In the hands of clever dressmaking artists drape well, but the human frame doesn't drape to any advantage; and if you have been in the habit of twining your legs confidentially and affectionately around those of your chair, or of weaving them in and out of the chair rungs, or of practising steps of the toe-dance, just gaze on the picture above and. see how very elevating you are on the level!—even when you are* looking pretty alluring “over the teacups.” As for the statuesque poses that go on up in the open, your chin Is probably a better curve as nature chiselled it than indented by the coy pressure of your clasped hands. The more you lean on your elbows the better chance the hard table has to help you to a few cubes and hard angles, Instead of the round, dimpled surface you started out to own. Just stt down at table some day minus a loll or a pose or an anatomical drape and see if the perfectly desirable “other fellow,” who happens to be off at another table where he can get a fine per spective on inartistic drapery and simple statuesqueness as well, does not show a desire to he at the same table with your unaffected- graceship some evening in the pleasantly immediate future! Advice to the Lovelorn Practicing Golf “I By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. CERTAINLY NOT. TAEAK MISS FAIRFAX: I am nineteen and have known a gentleman several years my senior for seven months. I know' he likes me very much, but do not know whether he is serious or not. On the other hand, I like him as a friend and would not care to marry him. He calls on me about twice a month and has taken me to places of amusement and has treated me very nicely in every respect. We often sit alone for a few hours. Under.the above circumstances, is it proper for me to allow him to kiss me? J. H. B. I am surprised at the question, since you say you like him only as a friend. Save such marks of affection for your betrothed. MOST CERTAINLY. ni:.\R MISS FAIRFAX: ^ I am sixteen and in love. Some few nights ago I saw my sweetheart with some other girls standing on the corner. Do you think I should stop keeping company with him? ANXIOUS. Stop keeping company with him, of course. But not because you saw him with some other girls. A better reason is that you are only sixteen and too young to have a lover. YOU WILL NEVER BE THAT. T~\EAR MISS FAIRFAX: I am seventeen, and in love with a man of twenty-five. I consider my self too young to acknowledge my love for him. Will you please tell me how to act when w-ith him. My pa rents think me foolish, but I shall soon be eighteen, and then I shall feel that I am at liberty to do as he asks. ANXIOUS VIRIENNE. You will never be old enough to do as he asks, for men have always been prone to ask the wrong thing. You are right in this: You are too young to tell your love. Act toward him as you would to a good friend who never may be anything more. REFUSE TO TAKE NO. TAEAR MISS FAIRFAX: ^ I am German, twenty-five years of age, and in love with a girl sev eral years my senior. I think she loves me. and I proposed twice, but she always says she will never marry me because of the difference in our ages. FRANK. The difference in your ages is imma terial. and if you are persistent you will overcome her objections. So long as she l<jves you you have no reason for being discouraged Wouldn’t Cost Much. A solicitor called upon a profes aional brother one day and asked his advice upon a point of law. The law yer whose opinion had been sought said: “I generally get paid for what I know.” The question thereupon took ha.f a dollar out of his pocket, handed it to the other, and remarked: “Tell me all you know, and give me the change!” ITATE to expose my ignorance.” Gartmore said, fondling his brand new golf clubs. "Say, I don’t like to begin practicing out at the club before all the other fel lows who have played for ages!” “Can’t you practice at home?” in quired Mrs. Gartmore. whose ideas of the g*wne were beautifully vague. “Oh, yes!” said Gartmore, with* heavy sarcasm. “I can make a 150- yard drive in the living room and fol low it with a 200-yard spurt in the hall! Easy!” • Saying which he began to think over the suggestion, after the manner of men. That night when starting to retire Gartmore carefully put on the bed room floor a pair of socks rolled up in a ball and Mrs. Gartmore found him standing over it, belligerently swing ing his driver. “Whatever ” she began. “It just occurred to me.” explained Gartmore, “that there is no reason why I can’t get the motion and swing of a drive right here! See, you swing the club like this—there is everything in getting the right shoulder motion — and then you hit and follow through!” With a tremendous swing, Gartmore swatted the soft ball of socks. It flew with surprising vigor straight out of the bed room door into the bath room, whisking off its perilous perch a bottle of violet water, which crashed wholesouledly against the bath tub and scattered glass all over the floor. Gartmore did not realize the extent of this catastrophe at first, because in letting his stroke follow through the iron head of the driver had made too big a curve and landed straight against a framed watercolor of Lake Lugano, to the great disturbance of those sunny waters. “Wow!” gasped Gartmore, sitting down hurriedly on the edge of the bed and ducking his head under the shower of Lake Lugano and its glass front. ”1 seem to have bit some thing!” He Was Amazed. “Hit something!" exclaimed Mrs. Gartmore, from the corner whither she had fied. “The neighbors will think you are trying to wreck the house! They'll tell all around to morrow that you were beating me and hammering my head against the partition wall! And, look here, Wil lis Gartmore! If you haven’t knocked a great chunk out of the Oriental rug where your iron club struck it! Do vou realize what rugfl COSt?” “Aw. I’m sleepy,” said Gartmore, with the masculine dignity that men assume when in a tight situation be fore the domestic bar. “Don’t make such a fuss over a mere trifle: I’ll do my practicing out in the yard after this!” “I should say you will!” Mrs. Gart more declared, thoroughly aroused to the perils of the seemingly innocent game of golf. Two or three days later Gartmore took a rubber ball of the baby’s out into the back yard, because he could not face the neighbors’ probable com ments on the ball of socks. Making a nice little mound of earth, he poised on It the rubber ball and then sur veyed the iurroundlngr. Working out the angles mentally, he so placed hini- sel f that the ball would travel in no direction but toward the little garage in the rear of his lot and would do no damage. A man certainly has a right to make dents in his own garage if he so chooses. ‘Oh, I’m going to like this game!” Gartmore breathed, as he made a few swings. Then he landed on the little rubber ball. When an amateur first hit* 1 a punch • ing bag he is always amazed and pained at the marvelous rebound of the thing smitten. His amazement, however, is nothing compared with Gartmore’s emotions over the antics of the baby’s rubber ball. That mis sile, as ho had neglected to ascertain before hitting it, was hard instead of soft. It hit the garage and then it vhot off at a tangent and darted in at the kitchen window of the Billingses next door. There followed a shriek. Then the Biilingses’ cook conveyed to Gartmore in emphatic language her opinion of men who fire bombs through windows and land them in the exact middles of newly-baked custard pies. Gartmore had no doubt about its being custard, because the cook carried most of it distributed over her person. She said she was a hard-working girl, not ac customed to being treated that way, and. with eggs so high, she couldn’t imagine what Mrs. Billings would say! “I’m going out to the golf club,” Gartmore defiantly told Mrs. Gart more a few seconds later. "I cap muss up the scenery there, because that’s what I pay dues for!” Getting His Own Back. Jones strolled into the post-office to send off a telegram, but, being in no real hurry, waited patiently while the clerk attended to the wants of an other man who had entered the office in front of him and was in need of a penny stamp. The little piece of paper was duly handed across the counter. Then: “Don’t you want to post a parcel?” inquired the clerk. "Not to-day,” came the reply . “Then what abouf a few registered envelopes or some postcards? We’ve got a new supply just in." “But I don’t want any!” The man was beginning to grow angry—a fact which made the clerk smile sweetly. “Well, well, well,” he remarked, “postal orders are always useful. So are money orders. We can provide them to almost any value, you know. And, for that matter But the man had gone. So the clerk, still smiling, turned to Jones. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, sir.” he apologized, “but that chap’s my barber. I vowed I’d get square with him to-day somehow.” Up-to-Date Jokes A physician tells a story of a man who moved into a dilapidated old cot tage, and was found by the doctor busily whitewashing it inside and out. “I’m glad »to see you making this old place so nice and neat,” said the physician. “It's been an eyesore in the neighborhood for years?” “’Tain’t nothing to me about eye sores,” was the reply. “The last cou ple what lived here had twins three times, and I hear whitewash is a good disinfectant. Ye see, we’ve got ten children already.” * * ♦ Mrs. Young has been station mis tress at Alverstone station, in the Isle of Wight, for the last twelve years. Her husband Is a platelayer on the line, her two brothers crane and engine drivers, her uncle a fire- •man, her two elder sons clerks, and her brother-in-law a crane driver. It is from Alverstone. which is a charm ing village a mile or two out of San- down, that the Lord Chief Justice of Great Britain takes his title. * * * “Did Agatha enjoy her trip abroad?’’ “Immensely. Excepting part of the journey from Naples to Berlin.” "What was the trouble?” "She lost her suit case.” “Dear, dear, that mu^t have greatly inconvenienced her.” “Yee, it did. She had nothing to paste her suit case labels on.” * * * The lady with the floating hair was being conducted round a famous Scotch cathedral by a guide. “Ah, yes, Gothic, is it not?” she murmured, with ecstatic admiration. The guide regarded her with pity mixed with horror. “Certainly not. madam,” he replied. “Presbyterian.” Neighbor—Hi! Come quick; your Mary’s fell in t’ponc. Farmer (excitedly)—What has? Neighbor-*— Mary; your wife. Farmer (relieved)—Mary! Lor, you did give me a turn; I thought you said mare. CLEVER man once said of an other that he had “a great deal )f taste and all of it bad.” This remark often occurs to me when 1 hear husbands Jest about what they smilingly term their "marital bondage. ” To do men Justice, when they are really dissatisfied with the women to whom they are married they seldom ac knowledge this fact to other people At least nice men do not, though cads may. One must confess with regret that a woman is more prone to discuss seri ously the faults of her husband than that husband Is to discuss his wife’s failings -except with herself. Women who are close friends are, I fear, some times guilty of telling each other of the latent indiscretions or inconsistencies of their life-partners. A man does not often do this—at least not as long as he intends to live with the woman of his choice Yet it must be acknowledged that he does make fun of his wife in a good- natured way, and pretend always laughingly—to be a somewhat abused individual. Few Henpecked. It has- been, said that the man who calls himself henpecked is the one who has his own way in his own house, while no-man who is absolutely ruled by his wife ever acknowledges this fact. It this statement be true, one may infer that there are few henpecked husbands. Matrimony seems to be a fair target for the Jeers of humanity. Such Jeers are pardonable if perpetrated by one who has never married. But if one is happy, or unhappy, speech is rather un necessary. One may exclaim truly: "I were but little happy could I say how much!” and if one finds marriage a fail ure one certainly would prefer that the turf should lie smooth and undisturbed over the grave of a buried hope. So I say that Jokes at the expense of one’s own married experience are in poor taste, even while acknowledging that men—whom I like—are the chief offend ers along these lines. Not the dissatis fied married men—ah. no! As I have said, they know how to be silent. But the nice, comfortable, comparatively contented Benedicts have a way per-, haps they consider It a witty or amus ing way—of talking of the time before their marriage as a period when they were care-free and happy. Yet, if a man’s wife spoke of her girlhood, or spinsterhood, as if she regretted it, would her husband like it? No, he would .disapprove of it. In fact, all men ! do disapprove when their wives mention with a sigh their days of freedom. Sacrifice of Each. While I agree that it Is not kind or in good form for a woman to do this, it is in quite as good form as for a man to do it. Really, a husband has sacrificed no more in marrying than has his wife; n fact, perhaps he haH sacrificed less than she. What has she gained that he las not gained, too? There may be for her the greatest Joy that a woman can know—that of motherhood. (I am al ways sorry for men when I remember hat they can not be mothers.) But a n.an can be the next best thing to a mother—and that is a father, tio this night he partial compensation to him for relinquishing his freedom. And 1 would like to remind the husband that he lines not gain his consolation prize by physical anguish and danger, does not go to the door of death to win it. Perhaps men think I am a bit rabid on this point. I hope they will forgive me, hut 1 hear with wearying frequepey the jest which has as its object the poor, downtrodden man, whose wings have been clipped by matrimony'. We all know these Jokes—In fact, we have all probably been at one time or another guilty of laughing at them. We have smiled at the story of the man who was | going abroad and who. when asked, if he intended to take bis wife, replied: “What! Take a ham sandwich to a banquet! No!” We have, if we possess but little appreciation of music, lis tened amusedly to songs that have re frains such as “My wife’s gone to the country! Hooray! Hooray!” and “I’m a poor old married man, so please don’t take me home!” Would Protest. But would we tolerate little Jokes with regard to wives—at least, would the husbands smile at them? Would they like to hear their wives utter them even in a spirit of innocent (?) fun? In imagination I can already hear some man saying to his wife when they are alone after a gay evening, in which she has laughingly' spoken of herself as on “overworked and underpaid house keeper.” or as “so busy doing the me nial lasks of the home that she has no time to do the big works of the world”— can, I say, hear her husband protesting with forced gentleness, using some such words as: "Really. Mary, if you do find that you have made a mistake in mar rying a poor man, it would be pleasanter for me if you did not advertise the fact!” . I insist that any' self-respecting mar ried man would thus protest were his wife to complain, even in fun, of her life with him. And* one could scarcely blame him for doing so. In the first place, for a wife to jest in this way is not agreeable to a man’s dignity, or van ity. and, in the second place, he does not want to feel that a woman sacri ficed anything when she married him. Has he not given her a comfortable home and his society, and does he not , love her? Then it is in wretched taste In her to speak of marriage as a state of bondage. I agree with him fully, and think it Is in equally poor taste when he claims that he regrets the Joys of bachelorhood. The world allows to a man a freedom that is not allowed to a wife. Mar riage does not interfere with his coming and going as he pleases. But the very nature of woman’s work in the home makes such freedom impracticable for her. Yet, as a girl in her father’s home, she probably' came and went as she pleased. So, on this point, she re nounces more than does her husband-^ though she renounces it willingly, if she is a true woman. He Admitted It. Patient’s Wife—If you can not de cide what is the matter with my hus band, hadn’t you better call in some other physician for consultation? Family Doctor—Oh, no, madam! My ideas are confused enough already. SS. 'eIvi ST When You Crave Sweets eat Velva, that good syrup with the RED Red Velva Molasses LABEL, on a muffin, a biscuit or even on a slice Candy of bread. Velva is not only a sweet—it is a Bring one quart of food. An ounce of it carries more nutritive RED VELVA to a qualities than an ounce of beef—not a theory, IJ I < L..<< , . but a fact. boil; add beat butter, keep atirring until ayrup hardena when dropped into cold water. Greaee pane, pour candy on them to cool. When cool enough to handle, pull candy from tipa of finger a until it be- comea a golden color. is great on all kinds of griddle cakes and just as good on waffles or pop- overs. Just you try it on a rice fritter and you’ll say, “That’s syrup." Ten cents up, in the clean, sanitary red can—or in the green can if you prefer it. Send for the book of Velva recipes. No charge. PENICK & FORD, Ltd. New Orleans, La. Overwhelming Proof Continues to Convince The Real Reason. Ferd—There seems to be a lot more fuss made of Miss A -’s singing than Miss K s, and I am sure Mmj K hast by far the richer voice. Jack—Ah, yes; but Miss A has j by far the richer father. Quaker Herb Extract Giving Results. Mrs. R. H. Nix Tells How She Was Cured of Stomach Trouble. TONS OF ROOTS AND HERBS Are used annually in the manu facture of Lydia K. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, which is known from ocean to ocean as the standard remedy for female ills. For nearly forty years this fa mous root anti herb medicine lias been pre-eminently successful in controlling the diseases of women. Mqtft alone rould have stood this test of time. S If the cures of people published In \ this paper were really true, then Quaker Herb Extract must indeed be a wonderful remedy. There were cures of rheumatism, catarrh, kid- ( ney, liver and stomach troubles re- ) ported by people who live in this | city. Their names and addresses | were given so that it was an easy ; matter to ascertain whether the < published reports were really gen uine or not. ^Everybody was asked to investigate. The proof was there fore overwhelming and undeniable. These people were actually cured by Quaker Herb Extract and Oil of Balm after many other remedies had failed. Now’ if you suffer from any of the aforementioned com plaints will not Quaker Herb Ex tract and Oil of Balm cure you also? Is it not worth a trial? The price is moderate, the remedies can not harm, results must be quick and you can call at Couraey & Munn's Drug Store at all hours to tell you anything you wish to know' about the remedies. If. therefore, you are still hesitating, come and have all your doubts explained. If the cures already published have not yet eon- Munn’s Drug Store and spend a little time listening to the reports of the people who are taking the remedies. Mrs. R. H. Nix. of 139 South Ave nue, said: “I had a case of stomach trouble a long time. I have taken several bottles of Quaker Herb Ex tract and I can now gladly say that Quaker Herb Extract has com pletely cured me. 1 was advised by several to haVe an operation, but this medicine has accomplished the results I desired.” This wonderful Quaker Herb Extract,, $1.00 per bottle. 3 for $2.50, or 6 for $5.00. Oil of Balm. 25c, or 5 for $1.00. Call to-day at Coursey & Munn’s Drug Store, 29 Marietta Street, and obtain these remedies. We prepay express charges on all vinced. you, come to Coursey & I orders of $3 00 or over.