Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

V, irrrn The Coiffure of Refinement (0) m Four Pretty Styles and as Many Pretty Girls <B> <is> Specially Pused for This Page by Members o) “The Madcap Duchess” Company Aa. ♦**o ♦ o ♦ ''TON of the 1 aTf■«: styles in eoif- . .i;■(/<•]y tineH with rejoicing o da.\ oi the grotesque hay- of i’lt® i« passed, and that the |'i , coiffure i* iioming hack into Boeinning: with left t,o right, a ven effect- ive and simple style of hair-dressing is shown y Miss Ann Swinburne as Serapliina in the itle role of “The Madcap DnenessThe ef feet is that of a Psyche knot with the added jfracefnlness achieved by a braid worn over •he forehead with the *id* hair brought low over the ears The style adopted by Mis* Margaret An drews is in direct contrast, with the effect al most as simple. The hair is bunched at the '•rown with the effect of a soft drooping pom pa dour in front. The style so well suited to the piquant face of Miss Peggy Wood is simplicity itself. The hair is parted in the middle, allowed to fall -♦ <>+■ THE FAMILY CUPBOARD A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in Ne%u York fNovellzed by! ♦ <3 ♦- ♦“0-4 loosely over the ears, and ia gathered in a tow knot at the back. , Miss Glen Ellis has the perfectly rounder bead that permits of the hair being drawn into a low bunch at the hack, with a fluffy ef fect in front redeeming it from the trying severity this style would otherwise become Meeting the Difficulty A GOOD story is told of a worthy Quaker who lire. in a country town. The man was rich »nr, benevolent, aud bis means were put In frequar requisition for purposes of local charity or usefulne*, The townspeople wanted to rebuild their parish churci and a committee was appointed to raise funds. It rai agreed that, the Quaker could not be asked to subsorlb* toward an object so contrary to his principles, but that on the other hand, so true a friend to the town might take it amiss if he was not at least consulted on a nat, ter of such general interest. So one of their nmr.br went and explained to him their project—the old chumb was to be removed and such and such steps tafer toward the construction of a new one "Thee wa3t. right, seid the Quaker, “in supposing tha mv principles would not allow rue to assist in building a church. But didst thee not say something about put ing down a church? Thee m ay at put my name dewv for a hundred pounds to pull it down.” severing of the question on which fate wan balanced. “You did not love her! Ken, It Is THE MANICURE LADY 'NeveTlzed m Owen Da via* play now being pre- ••»pu at the Playhouse, New York, by '.Mum A. Brady. -Copyright, 19115, by • : ationul News Service.) VO DAY'S INSTALLMENT ws« a pause. Emily Nelson trembling with emotion such as i forgotten to know through long t.i. . yearn of life that had made ■i moment come relentlessly t her gast. The instrument was held c'one • > her ear—-as she waited for Charles Nelson's voice—while her gaze never left the room behind whose curtains her eon and his was making prepara tion for—hie—long journey. Could she •are him—now at lust / Could anything now be saved from the wreck of love and honor—and zest to live? At last a voice. His voice—her bus- •and was there ut the ether end of the title wire that might be the Instrument . o' saving their boy. “Hello! Charlie! It Is Emily! I am at Kenneth's! He is In dreadful troublel He I* polng to—Oh. I can't tell you, Charlie. Come to me! Come to suve , himl How long?—Five minutes?—-I'll i try and keep him! No morel No! No! j l love you, Charlie! Come!" She dropped the instrument .hat | gTii >et be of aivatlon and fell Into■ ' e chair sobbirg wildly—*her strength) almost pent • Kenneth came into the room—walking 1 iAS in » daze b e a sleep-walker He field s ie letter* in hie hands—with the most minute care ho was tearing these nto small pieces. As ho heard his mother nob he dropped the paper to the floor <• whit* sLower—and went to her side. "Don' I)ond do that! ’ lie said in a 'one §n frosen by the horror of all he • ad come to know of life that it eound- ed remote—like a voice from another plane Emily Nels-on looked ip. Five min* te»! Could she hold her son that long7 “What are you going to do, Ken* eth"’ “Just going aw a ^ can’t stay here, you know. 1 am not fit. I can't face it! 1 can’t face—life.” he mumbled almost to himself. But her heart defined what her ears could not hear Emily Nelson rose and followed her hoy toward the door. "It Is my fault I van a baa mother!” ' "We did not understand—any of us." I said Kenneth, in that quiet voice of j doom. "Dear, 1 have suffered! I think 1 understand now. s.xi.i - hi* mother, nbt sorrow I see In your eyes—It is bit terneas”' "Perhaps. I don ? know." Th# boy spoke in a sort of lethargy of indiffer ence. TTe felt that nothing that had passed mattered now all that counted was what was coming. "What differ ence does 1*. make? Are you coming ; down? I can': wait." He did not call her by the sacred j name of mother—it was scarcely to his mother he spoke--just to some one who was, strangely enough, Showing interest In him, now that it was too late, and trying to change his plans—too late! He turned courteouslj—but impatiently —to the door. An he started Emily Nelson put her hand on hi* arm very gently—she scarcely dared to caress him—he seemed to lier like one In some strange trance— r.he dared not waken him too abruptly— le. t reason totter—lest he push her roughly aside and go on with what he had determined. "Jujt a rnome . t. dejfr’ When did she At last she reached her otyn room. She tore from, her the polluted gar ments that the master of pollution had touched —the poisoned things she had worn in the rooms of Evil. She flung j them In a heap on the floor; they could 11 t:.*• play by George Scar- not be touched now; her maid would borougn, now; being presented at the j hang them away. And In flinging aside Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. I . , ,,, , . . . , ... Serial rights held and •'opyrighted by babi iments of that dark night International News Service.) Aline forged another link in the chain Tv?c»ri! r , that must soon bind Ifer fast. At last 1 O - 0A^ S IhiS i. ALLM Jliui i. ! her soft white "robe de nuit” encased The chief and the Inspector looked at | her cold form and she tumbled into the each other Well, Flagg, invulnerable I sanctuary of her white bed. Dike a gently. Fighting the Moments. .gain -that In the boy’s face was that grim sor row that seemed to be bearing his soul sway frotn life and light and any hu man consciousffes* what f * He Mid that I should see myself and her as we really are—and—I do. It Isn’t a pretty sigh;..*’ His eyes deepened—and then i ■•• re came across them that film faraway look. "I want to get rid of It—mother, so- I am going." One step farther from her—one step nearer the door—and after that—what? "Walt!" The mother came hastily between her son and the door—that door she must not let him pass. Could She hold him? Could she hold him? Her agonized brain kept reiterating that question even while she was bending every en ergy. every power, to the successful an- CASTOR IA For Infants and Children. The Kind You Have Always Bought “.lust now.” “Why V" "She was tired She couldn't stick. That'a what the old man said—poor old beggar—she couldn't stick. Well . . I must go!" Again lie started for fchat door of st ange doom. Afcaln the frantic mother seized upon any pretext to stop him "Did -d'd she go alone”” "No.” "With whom?" “Please! f CAN'T LIVE IT OYER AGAIN' 1 CAN’T LIVE IT A EE OVER AGAIN! EFT ME GO!" The mother heart knew that be could not live It all over again—that with that memory searing boyhood and hopo and idealism from his nature he could scarcely bear to live at all for these few extra moments that she was trying to hold him—to save his sanity—to Have hie life itself! And yet she must an swer him as If she knew nothing—sus pected nothing of the wild storms that were sweeping through his agonized young-old mind. Elfe bad offered Ken neth Nelson a rude awakening would ho Indeed interpret his knowledge in terms of dealt: "Yes, dear, of course.’ said Emily, soothingly. He passed her on. on toward that door. There seemed nothing to say— nothing to do- -all had been tried In vain. Would the mother give up hope, and ceaiiMi lighting her battle against the odds of u disordered brain'* "Oh, Ken!” He stopped. "Yes.”’ "Mar: Bur: was— "Mother, dear: I am—ver> tired — and- and—I have a lot to do." Emily strove for an easy tone. If only flvme stra\ gleam of love for the girl whose unselfish devotion for the boy »'..•• had been coldly told was "too good for her—was worlds above her”— could brighten tho gray gloom of Ken’s outlook on life and love and woman Mary wa . as Emily Nelson had com4 well to know, the one rose in the tan gled and weedy Nelson garden If only she might yet be the "Hose of the Woii< " for Ken! And Emily Nelson's growth in w-‘manhood was measured by her simple judgment that her penniless social secretary’s love was the one g earn of hopo in the life and for the life of the wayward boy whom both women loved. Perhaps Mary's name would be the talisman to save Ken! “I am very tired—and I have a lot to do*,” said Ken. "Naturally—go dear—how silly for me to keep you. Poor Mary’s troubles are nothing to you." There was deep subtlety in that! “Mary's troubles!" The boy came back to his mother’s sice “Y’o* But it doesn't matter. She she »e g-dna to leave me. Since to all state weapons that bad searched for the vulnerable spot in the armor of his evil deeds, had been reached by a higher law. And tho dealer of justice must be meted human justice now and pay the penalty to human law—the pen alty for spilling the blood of this base brother. “Inspector, I’d swear on a staclc of Bibles that I saw a tin box sett In' right a top of that there cabinet," said Don nell, rubbing his eyes to make sure that iome strange magic was not all that kept him from seeing it now. "Well, who moved it?" asked the in spector sternly. "I don’t know, sor. "Who’s been !n the room sir.ee >ou eaw the box?" "Only ourselves, sor." There was a moment’s pause. Then the flinty smile played about the firm mouth of Chief Dempster. There was a trail plain for his ej'es to see. Only lie could not see ,1ust. where it would leau. and well for him, and fQr the friendship he had ever had for the Dis trict Attorney of the United States that he could not see that the trail led to the white-faced girl who was the daugh ter of his friend. "Only ourselves.” repeated the In spector. child that shuts out darkness, .she pulled the covers over her eyes; warmth and comfort must lie there. But warmth and comfort lay nowhere. The girl lay shivering in fear and horror of all she had learned this night—and all she did not guess. For the full terror of her visit to her enemy Aline did not know; she did not realize that Judson Flagg— had died! Suddenly she heard the jangle of the door bell—loud talking—she must know what it portended—she must have real ity Instead of this numbing terror of what might bo. She leaped from her bed and crept to the top of the stairs. Aline Graham had become an eaves dropper in her father’s house! She came on down the stairs and stood trembling at the library door. She listened—and new terror tore at her face like a monster with evil claws. Like a fugitive thing she crept back to her room at last—and stealthily, lest any might hear her, she began dressing In street clothes. Then In the alnlstei black of the midnight hour Aline Gra ham again left the protection of her father's house—and crept out Into the streets. The captain produced ( a queer little wooden thing from his pocket and put it on the table. Off came his dinner coat and draped its well-cut blackness over a chair; then the captain's hands slipped through the unaccustomed opening in hi« shirt sleeves, leaving the cuffs standing away ffom his arms Just below the elbows. He picked up the curious thing that was a plate-holder and van ished into an inner room. Barney looked ufter Ms master speculatively, touched the black box with a long, curious linger —shook his head** and picking up the topcoat and fedora marched into anoth er room. Had Larry Hoi brook forgotten the emerald brooch that lay in telltale care lessness In the pocket of that coat that he had so idly hung over the back of the chair? For a moment there was stillness In the deserted room. Then the captain's voice called, "Barney! Barney!” No answer. £5ack came Holbrook carrying a red lamp unlighted and a pan for a photographic plate. The Missing Hypo. "TEA!" Repeated Captain Holbrook late of the U. F. A. and late and soon of the w r orld. There was something in this brief dialogue to suggest that tea was not a beverage for the preparation of which Bamadino had a vast num ber of calls. “Yis, sir,” said Barney in a chastened tone. The Captain took the plate and went into the dark room that would soon give him light that should be as sinister and dark as the ruby-lit gloom In which the mysteries of the camera come to life. Barnadino went, back to his book and the formula, "E-two L’s-I-O and two teas!” “3-8-1 Main." The Captain came back to the door way for a brief second. "Tell him I’m near dead.' The door slammed after him with a tone of finality—and Barney was lefl alone with the) room and its precious contents. "Yis, sir,” said Bamadino. in the pause of waiting for the mysterious pro ceedings that made that little black thing at his ear talk to him. in my )ok was chief Dempster put a grin period A man's room will often tell what he Is. Tn one of the side streets of Wash- to the sentence. "And Holbrook.” said he quietly. But Holbrook was speeding through the nlght--speeding on to his cham bers speeding to the final revelation of ington—in one of the luxurious a^art ment buildings of Washington—where secretaries of legation and young for eign diplomats, where dilettanti at liv ing. where Washington’s eligible bach elors prove how homelike may be a that tell-tale platehohler he had filched ‘ home even without woman’s magic from the camera Donnell held In hands that, should never have been trusted with such valuable evidence. A Night of Terroi\ The victims of the scourge Insom nia call a night of sleeplessness a "white night"—they dread even through* the golden day the coming of the long stretch of hours when all life sleeps and they alone wake. A “white night” measures horrors of twitching nerves and unresting mind—of weariness and despair too great for normal man, wrapped in sweet slumbers, to meas ure. But the terrors of such a night are multiplied a thousand fold—are raised to the power of desperate agony when they come to a girl w hose past is a degradation, whose present Is a liv- touch* Lawrence Holbrook had h!s quar ters. To-night a white-clad, black-haired, Oriental-eyed Filtpino boy stood with Eastern stoicism and patience and gazed out of a high studio window Into the blackness of the midnight streets. Master would come soon—and In the meantime the "boy” would stand and gaze into the same blackness that held his Island jungles. Back of him and his window lay a huge living room wainscoted high in panels of soft brown Circassian walnut. Above the wood was a wall covering of forest green burlap. Ag&Jnst this background were hung half a dozen time-mellowed and rare hunting prints. Above tho fireplace was a fine moose head, and on the breast of the mantel lug horror of death Itself —and whose were shining barreled guns. Over door- future is only a pitiless toll extorted ways and hung above the monster buf- frem her own mistakes. j fet and wide book shelves were swords. Like a mad thing Aline had gone j knives, A Manila kriss, some foils, a through v'oo streets after that, scene ; travel-worn knapsack and wavj daggers of strangling and clicking and strug- j of a rar- Spanish make. Sconces lit ling—and striking—in the den of the * spider. In fear she had left her own home to enter tho web she had allowed to be woven about her six years be fore by the summer sea. But fear was an upmeasured thing—fear was a weak word to picture the tortured agony she must endure as she fled back to what could no more be a refuge for her—to what whs called Home—Home whose snored precincts she had dollied. Aline rushed from the spider’s do main—she ran from that writhing thing theories about Oriental slowness, that had latel: been called a man— Home lie dark wainscoting and shone on the heads of elk and caribou and on hunt ing horns from far German forests. A “world-man” indeed was the dweller In this great room. Suddenly tne keen-eared Filipino boy turned—arranged glasses and decanter on the great tab’e in the center of the room—drew the deep Russian chair closer to the gleaming fire and stood at attention at the open door with a quiet dispatch that seemed to disprove all "Barney!” "Yes. sir," and the servitor with nar row, twitching black eyes catpe at the* call. "There was a bottle of hypo in cupboard. Where is it?” Holbrom now quite intent on lighting the lamp. "What, sir?" "The stuff you’ve ?-»en me pour in this pan." “Bah-tle?" queried Barfaej, with great precision. "Yes." "Don* know. Captain. "You must find it, Barnej. "Don* know!” IIo started across the room, shaking his head gravely and repeating his for mula, "Don’ know ’ "It’s not there!” cried the captain in exasperation—he must, have the means of developing- this plate—he must know —the worst—the very, very worst. He spoke with slow patience. * “Big bottle—aays H-Y-P-O on the label—big Poland water bottle." Barney bobbed his head vigorously ; he went over and knelt at the buffet. "Oh, yis sir—yis. sir." The captain dropped the work of his hands and straightened up to the oc casion. "My word—in the buffet!” "These. Captain?’’ "That’s it . . . Barney, did you give anyone a drink of it?” “Not ylt, sir,” answered Barney re spectfully. "Well, wait till I tell you before you do!” "Yis, sir The captain started back to his own private sanctum to Immerse the plat© that would tell all in its hypo bath. "And, Barney—don't drink any of It yourself." "Yis. sir.” The captain lingered at the door and spoke with the 'grave emphasis he used In training this ignorant “boy”—and yet there was in eye and voice the twinkle that had won him the friend ship of women and savages. To Be Continued To-morr*ow. The Only Seat. A famous pianist uaed to be greatly bothered by requests for free seats at his concerts. On one occasion his sppeax-ancs had been advertised for weeks, and on the day of the concert every seat was booked. Just before he was shout to go on to the platform an excited lady made her way to the artists' room and begged for a ticket., saying that all her efforts to buy one bad proved futile. “Madam,” answered th* musician, “thsre Is but one seat left in th© whole building. If, however, you care to take It you are welcom© to do so ” "How can I thank you!" answered she. "It makes no difference to me where the seat in.” “Then, madam,” said he, "come thi* way!” Leading h«r to the steps up to the platform, he pointed to the seat, at the piano. When he turned round she had fled. 9y WILLIAM F. KIRK. HOPE to goodness we don't | never have a, real war with them Mexican fellows.” said Che Manicure Lady. “That Is about all the talk I have heard up to the house for the last week, and I am getting- kind of scared and nervous about 1L My father’s father fought i In the Civil Rebellion, George, and ; got one of his legs shot clean off at ’ the battle of Missionary Ridge. I, used to see him hobbling around the house when I was a little kid, and I couldn't help thinking when I seen his wooden leg that war was every thing Mister Sherman said it was. I suppose the scars of war Is honorable •cars, George, but you got to admit that there ain’t much class to on© of them old fashioned wooden legs, big in the calf and little In the ankul and no instep on them. “Every time the old gent get© a little lit up he tells that he is of fighting stock, and you would think to hear him go on that his ancestors had all went to West Point and served Uncle Sam all over th© world. His old man was the only one that ever smelled gunpowder, and he didn’t come out of It with no flying colors except the wooden leg, as I was say ing. I think he got that leg shot off In the only battle he was ever in. But the old gent is full of the war fever now, and he has even got brother Wilfred talking war and strategy. Wilfred wouldn’t make muoh of a boy in blue, with that gentle, shrinking poet nature of his. but he thinks that if war broke out with Mexico he would be right down there with bells on. I don’t believe they would take him for a soldier at all. on account of his lamps being weak and his small size being against him, but between him and the slj gent all wa hear now Is war. wir, war. "It kind of grates on mother and us girls, because we ain’t of a fight ing nature, and the only fun me and Mayme gets is kidding the life out (. M ilfred when he tells how he would charge the ramparts of the enemy ..... save the country's fl agr . We told hjm last night that the only thing he could charge was his board bill. „., B Mayme fo und a war poem that he had wrote and was going- to send to the Washington Heights Flour and Feci Courier. This is how it goes. George. Don’t read it if It is long,” said the Head Barber. “Me and the Mlssu? had a few words before I left hone this morning, and I don't feel none like listening to poetry.” ‘It ain’t much, George. Lister “Oh, Mexico, thou land of heat And cactus thorns and creeping things. You most assuredly will be beet If Uncle Sam on you bis soldier* flings I shall volunteer for U»« Stars aoe Stripe* And fight like * her* oar flog to save, And tf your navy with ours does riwk You will surely go to a water* grave. And if J die on th© battlefield The world will sey that I deoe best, And my greatness It will be revealed When my hands are folded on nv breast" ‘He ain’t giving himself aey ’he worst of it in that poem," said worst i*. in iiiw-i. poem, saw rnc Head Barber. “It sounds kind of fool ish to me.” Internal Evidence. His Turn. Bear© the SigMjturs ef I I gave lip the house there nothing for her to do—and she knows I can’t afford to keep her. But it will be hard for Mary to hunt ’’ she fled from insult and degrading in nuendo—from that leering face and silky voice that dared ask of her, nay. de mand of her. ”a hundred day* strung throughout the year.” Now running like a hunted thing— j like the hunted thing she must soon become; now hiding in shadow at th# terror of a crackling twig, now doub ling on her tracks that the inevitable pursuer might be thrown off the trail— '•■!■>• reached ier own doorway at last. With the easy grace that was his Irish heritage—with the smiling at- homeness with the world that had al ways beer, his—up to the time of dan ger—Captain Holbrook swung into his own domain. The servitor he had trained to wear livery instead of Fil ipino skins and fiber took his hat and coat with a military precision. “Wait a minute. Barney. Ho’.l on. 1* ye dor.’: mind, I vu go. something up T# Vs C©ntinus4 Ts-msss**. But there was one enem> she could I Si0Cve - not *hake off - one danger she could not j u >'»v that loi.g black box of Jap- i flee. That was herself—and her own anr ‘ wl metal from his sleeve. Barney 'black knowledge of Alins Graham, 'looked curiously at' the other slee\e. A New Plan. “That’ll send you back to Manila, Barnadino—in a pine box. . . . Now get Dr. Elliott on the phone and tell him I'm 3ick—to come as fast os ever he can ” A new plan was hatching 1n the pro lific brain of this soldier of fortune. “Docker Ell-yut,” repeated Barna dino gravely. "Yes. His number's in the little book. E-tw ? o L’s-I-O and tw-o teas!" Barney’s nose was buried in the lit tle book while yet he knew that precious formula. "Yis, sir.” "And after that get me a pot of tea.” Barney dropped the book—and gaz^d master in something akin to Two motorists, having almost ruined their tempers—and their tires—in a vain attempt to find a hotel with a vacant ed. were at last forced to make the best of a small inn. Even then they had to share a bed. which was—and on this th© lsndiord laid great stress—a feather bed They turned in. and one of the patr was soon fa*t aaleep; the other wai not. He could not manage to dodge the bumps and heard hour after hour strike on the church clock until 8 a. m., when he also struck. He did this by violently shaking his snoring friend "What’s the matter?” growled the other. “It can t be time to gtt up jar” No, it isn’t," retorted his friend, continuing te shake him, “but it’s my turn to sleep on th© featk©ri’‘ At a certain college custom ordains that at examination time each of the candidates shall write the following pledge at the bottom of his papers: "I hereby declare, on my honor, that I have neitTTer given nor received as sistance during the examination.” Now. recently. It so happened that a young fellow, after handing in one of the papers, suddenly remembered that in his haste lie had omitted to write the oath. On the following day, therefore, he sought out one of the examiners and told him that lie had forgotten to put the required pledge on his paper. The old man looked at him over the top of his glasses and dryly remarked “Quite unnecessary. Your paper In it self is sufficient evidence J've lust been correcting it.” Lovers CHICHESTER S PILLS . TKWiMM, RRiSD . will appreciate the In viting fragrance and exquisite flavor of Maxwell Houw Blend Tea It meets every requ^ ment of quaUty and purity. ./rrt'.O’ii'W.rEB'* 1‘ktNU flM.I, Int S(> bnictet, niAMONO SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFP5 Ck©#k*Nea) C#H«« C(*np*» 7* Crr ' ....*><>* *—• E* tfyvudr ‘ * A Friend of Quaker for Twentv-Two Years vr,• r* i3 eo *i.. ..... at his horror. "TEA!" We have moved to our new store. 97 Peachtree Street. ATLANTA FLORAL CO, Mr G. R. Howder, 63 years of age, who lives at 110 Center street, this city, lias been u friend of Quaker Ex tract for twenty-two years. When he first became acquainted with its won derful virtues he had been ailing for years from stomach troubles, and had used quite a few of the many remedies on the market at that time, but found nothing to give real permanent relief until he at last found the first pack age of Quaker Herbs, put up at that time in a dry form. He was cured by a few weeks’ use of them, and since then each year, usually at the spring time, he gives himself and all th© fam ily a course of the great medicine, and if more healthy-looklng and vigorous- feeling man at the age of 63 can be found in xtkinta it will take more than the normal eyes to find him. Mr. Howder has raised two children on ' Quaker. ' and they have never had the puny. pale, sallow complexions of the average child, nor have they suf fered from the many ills that’beset the (frowinK child, more especially the hundreds of worms and other intesti nal parasites that Infest the human system of those who do not properlv cleanse the digestive tract each year When Mr. Howder first began to use' the Quaker medicine himself he weigh ed Just exactly 130 pounds Now he tips the beam at 198. and it's all good, healthy muscle and sinew and steady nerves, not a lot of bloat. This gen tleman called at Courser Muon's store and, after talking to the Quakers a while took three more bot- S u ? ker fcxtra, 't, which he In tended giving to a friend who Is be ginning to manifest some of the simp- toms of pellagra. He knew that the same remedy ban already cured a case Mariciia. and 1« doing yeoman mer- vk-(? in *ux or seven other ca - right 1U Ailunta Now. those of you who iV e ta Ji Unod t0 d <>ubt that the Quaker Remedies are permanent in their cura- Vj iue ' °r wh ? think that when once the remedies have made a friend they are easily shaken off, Just tak* a walk over to Mr. Howder’s residence on Center street and ask him person ally what he knows of the Quakers medicines He'll be only too glad to explain why he has used them for jo many years, when there are over -w other remedies that are sold on tn© druggists’ shelves to-day. And re member, too, that If you suffer from any possible branch or stomach, kidney or blood troubles, or yon ano your little ones have worms of •»' kind, here Is a cure, one that has cre ated over 300 permanent cures flff * here in your own city, right on jour very threshold so to speak, Wher© you have the privilege to lnvestlg*** them at your will. Thrift wonderful remedies— E':t.-a« i, 6 for So.00, 3 for S2.60 or fl.0* a. Lottl**.: Mi: of Balm. 2oc. or 5 f<F ‘ " la- Mbtalned at Course?' f Munn’s Drug Store, •'$ Marietta etreaV v .. xpresh chargee on all ders of $3.00 or over.