Newspaper Page Text
s
© The Truth, Children Dear, Is That Santa Claus Is an Imposter; the Real Christmas Saint Is a Woman ©
the family
CUPBOARD
.jt Beauty S
A DELIGHTFULLY DIFFERENT TALK WITH MME. YORSKA
A Charmingly Unique Short Story, Complete.
te(i from the Big Broadway Succe.s
By Owen Davla.
[Novelized byl
WIHii
TO
DAY’S INSTALLMENT
"PI pa
A Charming Evening GolXm
Fully Described by Olivette.
, ,. v pn Davis’ play now being pre-
:I,p playhouse. New York, by
Brady—Copyright, 1913, by
nnal News Service.)
Don't let me hurt you! Let
be r.tic, but I can’t stay. I can't
tear any more."
He loosened her clinging arms—sor-
rowfulb almost, as one impelled by a
(orff great lor himself. He held
lards In his cold ones for a mo
ment and looked at her in pity.
mere, dear—there. Forgive me!"
He half led. half carried her to a chair
and plarrd her in it as if she had been
h eipi,.ss child. And, Indeed. Emily
X el ion «as almost helpless now. Half
falntipfr sobbing—collapse imminent,
S he fell away from his. arms. She had
tough' (or the life of her first born—
and lost
"God bless you, mother. The boy s
v „iee ttrs tender now. He was speak
ing his farewell—his final farewell.
After all he had once loved his beautiful
vfJun g mother- and he would never see
her again And never again would he
Me , hl i father, who had given him life—
the father be had estranged past all for,
jrfvenras. His father would never know
hew the blow on his cheek had seared
t, red path of torture Into the heart of
the son who had strt»k him.
"God Mess you. mother—and good
bye!"
With one last scourging of her wilt
Emily Nelson cried out—she struggled
for her boy's life and her own sanity.
NO, KEN! NO! CHARLIE!"
"Charlie!”
In the hour of death she called the
name of the man she hed loved—her
boy a father—the man to whom .she was
bound by fetters past pride’s breaking
-the man she must always love now
‘Relentlessly Kenneth went his self-
appointed way—to the blood atonement,
le could not face life and the long
days and hours. Death was but one
moment--and then—oblivion.
He stumbled to the door—wrenched
it open—and there In the portal stood
Charles Nelson.
Charlie’'' cried the mother. Then
nature exacted her dues of outworn
nerves and aching heart. Quickly so
that the two men brought face to face
di«l not know she had succumbed to
emotion. Fzmily Nelson slipped back in
her chair swooning
"Father' cried the - "son in a broken
voice of mingled joy and pain. In his
eyes was the dawning light of sanity—
of new day.
"I have been waiting for a long time.
Ken' said the man with tender
strength in voice and earnest-eyes.
He opened his arms. Kenneth--stum
bled forward into his father’s welcome
embrace He had found his refuge.
* * *
And the family skeleton slunk from
the room abashed, defeated by the
deathless power of forgiving love.
Fn a sordid Bohemian hotel there was
the glow of twilight calm—of peace. In
Emily Nelson’s apartment nearby stood
Mary Burk waiting—waiting for the
home-coming of which her loyal heart
felt strangely well assured.
Sunset- and sunrise! For In Kenneth
Nelson’s room a boy was kneeling at
his father’s feet, while a man and wo
man came again Into the?r kingdom—
the Kingdom of Dove. And perhaps
one day Kenneth would find his King
dom, too, in the rose-garden of Mary’s
love
THE END.
I N a corner of one of the most quiet
streets In Sevastopol in the burn
ing sun sat an orange seller, a
Tartar, motionless and half asleep. In
front of him stood a flat basket half
filled with big oranges.
Everybody else was half dead with
heat, but the Tartar felt nothing.
What was he thinking, as he sat
there with his basket of oranges,
worth, perhaps, one rouble and a half.
Mme. Yorska in Two Charming Poses.
By MAUDE MILLER.
W HAT 1 s the secret and how do
you tell? Oh, it Is an absorb
ing topic, and a very difficult
question to decide. But Madame
Yorska, that dear, elusively dainty
little French actress formerly of the
Theatre Sarah Bernhardt, Paris, whp
seems to be well versed In the sub
ject, has whispered some very Im
portant secrets which will perhaps
help those who are more inexperi
enced.
Of course, It isn’t given everyone
to have so many admirers. And now
for the secret. The most important
thing in the world for a girl to know
about. Far more important than any
beauty hints; they are of secondary
importance. What is it? The secret :
of understanding a man.
“O, mon Dieu, these men,” said
Mme’ Yorska. who at present is ar
tistic director of the French Drama
Society of New York, clasping her
hands and leaning forward from the
big couch where she was curled up
among the cushions. "They are like
children; they come to us all flushed
with health and the joy of living, and
often they have not an idea in their
heads. But do they enjoy life any the
less? Ah, no. and why? Because
they are unconscious of the fact. And 1
we women. Do we in our funny su
perior way look at them askance?
Ah, no; we laugh very humanly, and
long quite shamelessly to pet them
as we would a good child or a favor-
ite Newfoundland dog.
NOT difficult.
"You must not mind any feeling of
ennui, remember, as you funny Eng-
Most likely he was thinking of noth
ing at all, for why should a Tartar
'think when his whole world of thought
is limited to half dozen commonplace
'ideas? This is permitted; that is for-
| bidden. The Tartar is satisfied to
take things as he finds them.
So lazy had he grown that he did
not even care to hum to himself the
beautiful Tartar tune which the Tar
tar boy plays on his flute Sundays,
as he saunters along the aisles of the
bazaar in the wake of the fat, opu
lent wholesale dealer in fruit, who
walks along looking as important as
if he were a Roman conqueror whose
praise is being sung by singers and
musicians.
The Tartar sat half asleep, dozing
over his oranges and feeling so com
fortable that he did not even want to
'raise his head to look at the elegant
carriage passing along the street.
Otherwise the street was nearly
empty, but in the distance was a
man in a dark blue suit and a straw
hat tottering along, affected by heat
and wine.
When he reached the Tartar he
stopped and stared down into the has
ke-t with his dull eyes Then with
acme exertion he ask^d:
"Do you sell oranges?"
"Certainly.” drawled the Tartar as
he raised his eyebrows lazily. "Do
you want some?"
“Are you a Tartar?"
“Of course I am,” the Tartar said
good naturedly.
NO VODKA
"A man
has got
to he
something
Some are
Ta rtars
and
some are
Greeks.”
"Yes—and. aay,
do
you
drink
vodka?”
"No, we
do not drink.
It
is for-
bidden.”
"Why, in Heaven's name.
is that
forbidden."
asked
the
pasaer-by.
lish put It; it’is all in k good cause.
The^e clever men, they are so funny
they get drunk Qn their gonius if they
have any, but they are no match for
the clever woman. She knows intui
tively that even if he is clever most
of his manner is a pose.
"A poseur is very uninteresting, all
the time thinking-of himself and his
charm. But there is no man who is
too clever to lose his hand to a woman
if she has learned how to play her
best card. She must appear indiffer
ent to him at first, and gradually al
low him to arous^ her interest. Real
interest, or seeming interest, it is all
the same. He will be too absorbed in
himself to v notice. And by and by
when she finds that she' mus^ tear
nerself away, he will say ,to his
fi lends, "Such an interesting woman,
so much temperament, so sympathetic.
I must see her again.” Not a word
about the color of her eyes, or the
straight line of her aristocratic little
nose, or the maddening curve of her
mouth. Not that I mean to imply that
a man (joes not care for beauty. Not
at all, but a clever wom^n can make
a man think she is beautiful.
"Then there is the kind man. One
often finds the kindest men among
the bourgeois class. It takes brains
to he an intelligent bourgeois. And
with the kind man you need not play.
It would hurt your heart to be any
thing but natural when he Is willing
to play the game so fairly.
"But be careful lest, you lose your
heart in, a game like this, for it Is
the most dangerous kind to play, al
though it is generally true thqt the
kind man is too straightforward, too
honorable to engage In a game of
hearts for his own amusement.
‘The very young man is very much
the same as the older man with a
pose, although he is not so clever.
Rut he studies charm and makes a
dash to be what you call a lady killer.
He does not know that he is very
funny, he is too egotistical, and it is
often a very good plan to give him
some very rude awakening Jt de
velops his manhood and in the hands
of a very clever woman any latent
possibilities can easily be developed
after the foolishness has somewhat
evaporated. ’
"You have enjoyed my little talk?
Yes? Merci, beaucoup I have en
joyed it much. I hope T have given
you all. what you say, good advice.”
"Does vodka -do you harm?”
"Yes. it is written in our law that
we must not drink. It is a great
®In.”
"Nonsense. What harm could that
do you? I am sure you must have
misunderstood the Koran Hand it
to me and I will show you a place
where it says you may drink.”
The Tartar shrugged his shoulders
He was offended and was trying to
think of an answer
"When a man is drunk he stutters.
Is that as it ought to be?”
"You don’t know what you are
talking about. A man does not stut
ter because he wants to. The vodka
makes him do that against his will.”
"And then he totters, s gs and
brays like a donkey enough to scare
cats and dogs away. Is that proper?"
"Why shouldn’t a person sing when
he feels like it?”
"If he sings well, I do mind, but
a drunken man yells."
"My dear friend Tartar, what does
it matter to him If others don't like
his singing? If it annoys them let
them drink, too.”
Again the Tartar was thinking, try
ing to find an answer. At last he said
with a triumphant smile:
"When a man is drunk, he falls In
the middle of the street and while he
sleeps like a dead man. thieves plund
er him.”
"That Is not so.” cried the cham
pion of vodka. "Do you hear. Tar
tar? That is a lie. W'hen a man has
fallen like that, no one can rob him.”
"Why not? How can you say such
a thing? There are plenty of thieves
who would do it.”
"But how can ♦hey steal anything
from him. you fool of a Tartar? When
a man is that drunk, he has nothing
lert that anybody can steal.”
MORE ARHIMENT.
"Perhaps! But then they may steal
his shoes.”
"And what does that, matter, when
it is as hot as to-day? It will only
make you feel cooler.”
The Tartar was in a dilemma once
more. No answer occurred to him.
At last he said:
"But the mans boss will say to
him 'We don’t want a drunken
monkey like you. Get out!’"
"A marr should drink intelligently
and not let himself be caught by his
boss."
"A man should not drink at all.
Everybody knows that vodka has a
bitter taste.”
"Nonsense! If you don't like the
bitter, drink something sweet.”
"But why should 1 drink when 1
don’t feel like drinking at all?"
A very impressive argument, but
the champion of drink did not give in
"How is it possible not to feel like
drinking? Besides, a Russian drinks
even if he does not feel like it. At
first it seems a little hard but you
*oon get used to it. Did you ever
read any statist!—statistics?'
"Now what la that?"
Well if you had you would know
that according to stast—statistics
every man In Russia drinks a litre
and a half of vodka a year. Do you
understand? Is It your duty then
to drink—or not?”
The Tartar sighed, scratched hla
head and admitted: "Of course,
naturally it is"
"That is how it Is." said the pas
serby and walked on. When he
reached the harbor. h« stopped,
leaned against a pillar and gazed at
the limpid bins water of the bay.
He was thinking
"That Tartar Is a sensible fellow."
he muttered to himself. He Is right,
Vodka is no good. He say s it ruins
your health and robs you of your
money and your job. I know what
I am going to do. I am going to
chuck drinking—Shut up. don’t con
tradict me!”
He raised his hand and stood as
if he were listening to dim voices
within himself.
"I have chucked it,” he said.
• • •
The man was barely out of sight
when the Tartar began to feel an
unpleasant sensation. He nodded
his head repeatedly, smacked his
tongue and tugged at his full trouo
ers. Then he said to himself:
"WhRt that man said was true. He
is quite right. If I drink and like
it, it is nobody else's business."
He Jumped up, picked up his
basket, walked quickly down tow
ards the harbor and entered the inn
"The Jolly Tars."
*'I haven't seen Hemmandshaw for
a week."
"No; he hasn’t been out of the house
since his accident.”
"Was he seriously injured?”
"No; but he feels the disgrace
deeply.”
"Disgrace?"
"Yes. After living in the heart of
j the City all his life, he went to the
country one day last week and was
' run over by a milk wagon.”
• • •
Secretary Bryan, at a luncheon In
Washington, said of a man who
through modesty, had declined an
Important and useful office:
"So he wants to hide his light
under a bushel, eh? Then perhaps
the country is Just as well off with
out his services. When a man talks
of hiding his light under a bushel, I
usually think that a thimble would
answer the purpose Just as well."
• • *
Jim—"Honesty is the best policy,
1 arter all."
Bill—"How?"
"Remember that dog I stole?”
“Yes."
"Well, I tried two hull day* to sell
'im, an' no one offered more’n fire
dollars; so I went, like a honest man.
an' guv him to th’ ole lady what
owned Mm. and she guv me ten.”
S
1MPLE dinner dress in vervalne brocaded charmeuse. Vervaine
is one of the glorious new purples brought forth by the new’
season.
The richness of color and (he simple elegance of line are respon
sible for the beauty of this stunning dress. The full bodice crosses
in a V front and back and outlines the low r neck.
At. the armhole the full material tightens to take the place of
sleeves. At the waist again the fullness tightens under a girdle.
Extremely chic Ir this wide girdle of very pale green liberty silk
which ties in a great soft how just at the crossing of the surplice.
The plain skirt is slightly gathered round the waist and closes down
the front.
Directly in front It is caught up under a button of the material.
The skirt is quite long in back and is raised by its own line of
drapery in front.
For the woman who objects to the sleeveless effect, the gown
may be improved by a short angel sleeve of the green liberty or of
self colored tulle.—OLIVETTE
Thr safest railway line in the world
ought to bp the Illinois Central. No
other railway certainly has carried Its
Precautions against accident into such
miqute detail. A general order has just
oeen issued prohibiting drivers, firemen
and conductors everyone, in fact, who
‘3 concerned with the actual running of
trains from carrying on their
watch fare- pictures of sweethearts,
babies. Such pictures, it is
xplamed. are likely to distract the at
tention of employees from their work.
Some suggestive experiments have
, P ia ^ r on German warships with
anted projectiles, which it is thought
may take the place of the electric
Jwj-’hlight. The projectile, which is
•led with calcium carbide, is fired from
cannon and. since it is lighter than
a ^ Pr striking it comes to the
ia • liuring its immersion water is
a/.I? r ? a ' ,ra H- admitted and produces
i,mV" en ,° pa ‘ which burns with an il-
dles nation equal to that of 3,000 can-
flew as a passenger in an
i.ttiJ. 1 i " fr ° m fr'trasburg to Metz the
lirm ‘ ay . The animal is the pet of a
rw r V[ ri:i ’ ,ary airman, who acted as
• (j , 1 ’ p at first refused to be
n " machine, but submitted af-
u : ' **»on. Through the flight
tv p <nd trembled, and when
f rnm anded he was so paralyzed
o/ oJ r . L ’^ at be had to be helped out
Round trip holiday
fares between
POINTS IN SOUTHEAST
VIA
THE WEST POINT
ROUTE.
SALE December 17,
UV :,. 20 ’ 21 * 22. 23, 24, 25 and 31,
LMit Ja " uar y 1. 1914. RETURN
Fol n nua 7 6 ' 1914 '
cai| 0n ,n f° r mation write to, or
r J. P. BILLUPS,
F D VH0Mp r S0N aSSen9er ASent '
S r ' C * , Pass ' n 9er Agent.
ATLANTA, GA. Advt.
Should the inkpot be accidentally
upset on tablecloth or carpet, pour a
little cold water over it at once. Tin-
ink will float on the water, and when
cloth or carpet is rubbed dry no stain
will show.
In wet weather clean the windows
with chamois leather In the usual
.way, then sprinkle a little flour on
the pollshintr duster. The result will
be an easy and brilliant polish.
Used in water as a daily aargle,
borax keeps the throat healthy. Used
in water for cleansing the teeth, it
"disinfects” them and prevents their
decaying.,
Oh, the Perils of Pretence!
Only last week that infatuated
pretender, Augustus Perkly, on en
tering a ballroom said to the footman
in a loud, peremptory tone of voice:
"Please tell my coachman to bring
the broughman back in three hours.
'The footman went, and two minutes
later, as Perkly was standing up to
dance with Miss Blond, he returned
to say, in a voice audible throughout
the room:
"Your coachman says he can t come
back In three hours, sir, because he's
got another fare for then. sir.
Exit Boreleigh.
“So vou don't object to late call-
ers?” gratefully responded Boreleigh,
who had been delayed. •
“No,” she replied. "Its the^late
leavers who nnnoy me ‘
CASTOR IA
for Infanta and Children,
The Kind You Have Always Bought
AT BAY A Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers
(Novelized by)
Bears the
Signature of
(From th* play by George Scar
borough, now being presented at the
Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
Serial rights held and copyrighted by
International News'Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
•He found the little red morocco book
—the hook that would tell him the sari
reason why the girl he loved -the girl
whose eyes said, "I love you,” had de
nied In words the message that gave
him hope.
"Address— indexed—Initial G. Yes
. Graham, Aline—daughter of Gor
don Graham. District Attorney. One
letter—own hand and signature ”
The box dropped to the floor and Cap
tain Holbrook rose to his feet with the
lines of hopelessness forming a net
work of pain across his face. In hor
ror he voiced his bitter discovery: "SE
CRET MARRIAGE!—ALINE. . .”
And in a broken tone of despair, he
voiced his pain in one word—“Aline!"
Would his faith die? Would he voice
the cynic’s answer to knowledge such
as this burning blast from the hell
like furnaces of the world’s own *pur-.
gatory? "Women—they’re "all alike—
all of ’em—after all?’’ Would he say
this, think this—and leave Aline to her
doom?
He picked up the little packet of all-
revealing, all-betraying letters as if to
search for what had taken Aline Into
the toils of destruction.
Then he straightened up like the sol
dier he was. ,
"No, by Jove! I can t look a! any let-
that i - I el*s She killed Flagg to
try to gei it- h»s hand on her throat,
poor little lady!”
And then Captain I>awrence Holbrook
walked over to the fireplace and ground
that glass plate with the story of
death printed on it beneath the iron
poker. He did not desist until it was
shattered to very atoms. And then he
raised a transfigured face and said his
creed with the devotion of a worshiper
at some pure altar:
"NO! SHE IS A GOOD WOMAN—
OR I NEVER MET ONE!”
"Tea is here. Captain," spoke Bar
ney’s precise voice.
Holbrook started.
"Pour me a cup and let it cool a
little."
“Cream, Captain?"
"No cream, and no sugar. Just tea.”
"Yis, sir."
The Captain thrust his hands again
through their accustomed place in the
cuffs of his shirt, he put on his coat
and slipped into its pockets the packet
Of letters and the tell-tale morocco book.
The phone was again In demand.
“Hello—hello! Give me Main 724—
Barney, clean up that mess I made on
the hearth and put the pan and the
red lamp away.”
"Yis, sir."
‘ Hello—724° Your night editor, please!
Hello—night editor? This is Captain
Lawrence Holbrpok—yes. sir, same. You
promised Mr. Graham this afternoon to
publish a denial of the engagement of
his daughter, Miss Aline Graham, to
me. WELD, NEVER MIND THE DE
NIAL- that’s it, exactly—let the matter
go as it lays. Yes, sir, this is Hol
brook, himself. Exactly PREMA
TURE BUT QUITE RIGHT, and I’m
sorry to have troubled you at all. sir.’*
Those black brews had lifted at the
corners to their quizzical triangle—and
the bit of a brogue had deepened as
it always did in moments of determina
tion. excitement or Just mischievous be
devilment of the powers that were soon
to close in on hhn and the girl ha loved
supremely, in spite of all the evidence
against her. •
When A line’s father had objected to
Holhrook because they knew so little
of his past, the girl had championed
him with the warmth of love and the
knowledge of her own bitter memories:
j "He is interesting, unusual, a traveler,
a world man, a real man: he is genial
and frank—no one can interest me any
more, father, than my past—interests
him."
But Alina’s past must Interest Hol
brook now—for on it hinged her fu
ture- perhaps her life!
The Captain smiled with the genial
ity Aline had commended and concluded
his chat with the night city editor:
“Thank ydu—the same to you and
many of them.”
He hung up the phone with a sigh
of relief. The statement of his en
gagement to Aline Graham—taker of
life—and another man’s wife—or dis
carded love —would “go as it lay.”
Holbrook stirred his tea and prepared
for a draft of 1L
The Confession.
H OLBROOK walked over and lifted
the spring lock. The "sick man”
smiled. “Ah, doctor, thank you.
You're prompt.”
The man who entered was a slender,
gray-haired, keen-eyed man of forty-
five. with all a boy’s inquiring interest
in life. But Francis Elliott stood with
firm, manly prominence at the head o f
his great profession, surgery. A secret
service chief, an Episcopal father and a
great surgeon—these were the chosen
friends of Aline Graham’s “world man
If Holbrook was to be judged by his
friendships, he must rank high But the
rnan would soon prove what were his
real companions his thoughts
The doctor smiled his gentle, kindly
smile—the smile that always won the
hearts of the little lame lads whose
poor legs he knew well how to
straighten.
"You 111, Larry?”
“Not a bit,” said Larry as cheerfully
as If getting a man out of bed at this
hour of the night or morning were a
matter of no import.
"Your boy said " remarked Elliott
in puzzlement.
“I know—I told him—I wouldn’t a
bothered you, only IT IS ‘life and
death.’ Doctor, sit down. Here's some
whisky. I'll Just see to the doors a bit.
This is a matter of an extremely con
fidential nature."
He picked up his own cup.
"What’s that?" asked the doctor in
an amazement that gave final testi
mony that this was not Holbrook’s reg
ular beverage.
"Tea—I need something, and r can't
risk THAT to-night. But help yourself
—I’m no fanatic.”
"But I am not drinking at such an
hour—or when 1 have been called pro-
fessionall> ” Then gravely he added:
“What can I do for you, Captain?"
"Judson Flagg, the divorce lawyer—
the blackmailer of women—and helpless
girls- has Just ’’
His tense voice broke and stopped
suddenly as Barney entered. "Go to
your room. Barney, until I call you."
"Yis, sir."
‘Barney?’’ queried the doctor, with
an amused smile at the serious Oriental,
who suggested no whit of Irish ease or
the brogue-tipped name to which he
bad Just answered ■
To Be Continued To-morrow.
AH TlAT, Mother, is a diplomat? I
W read so much of them these
V V days
A diplomat, My Child, is one whose
manners are so highly polished that he
can rail another man a liar and the
other man will never know it.
What. Mother, is meant by Pa
tience?
I'atlence. Little One. is that senti
ment whic h so soon ceases to be a vir
tue when displayed toward the faultH
of thf.se you dislike. It is also the best
investment a married woman can make.
Are ail. Mother, who talk about oth
ers to be rlaese*l as gossips?
No, no. My Child: those you dislike
are gossips; those you like a "well in
formed."
Is It so wicked, then, to listen to gos
sip?
There is nothing more wicked, Little
One. than to listen to gossip, but it is
th< popular thing never to condemn the
gossip till one has heard all he has to
tell When his talk Is exhausted, it is
then quite noble for his listeners to
show their contempt for a tattler by
leaving the room.
What, Mother, is Hope?
The answer. Little One, depends upon
the age of the person in whose breast
it is inspired. In mothers. Hope is that
sentiment which, when they see other
boys slight, abuse and disown their
parents, prevents them from giving
their own boys away.
What. Mother Mine, Is meant by ‘get
ting back to Nature?"
It is an expression. My Child, used
by those who are figuring on loafing for
a while and want the loafing dis
guised.
Why, Mother, is Christmas time called
"the holidays?"
Because, My Child, it is that season
of the year when every one is worked
almost to death.
FRANCES L. OARSTDE
A KODAK.
Of all the timely gifts, the very
thing It will appeal to every mem
ber of the family and make this
Christmas memorable. John L. Moore
& Sons have them from $1 to $100.
!Let them show you. 42 North Broad
street.—Advt.
Cheap and
Easily Made, But Ends
a Cough Quickly
How to Make the Very Bezt Cough
Remedy at Home, Fully
Guaranteed.
This pint of cough syrup Is easily
made at home and saves you about
5L’ as compared with ordinary cough
remedies. It relieves obstinate coughs
-even whooping cough—quickly, and
Is splendid, too, for bronchial asth
ma. spasmodic croup and hoarseness.
Mix 1 pint of granulated sugar with
Vfc pint of warm water, and stir for
two minutes. Put 2^ ounces of Pi-
nex (50 cents’ worth) in a pint bot
tle, and add the sugar syrup. Take
a tcaspoonful every one, two or three
hours. Tastes good.
This takes right hold of a cough
and gives almost instant relief It
stimulates the appetite and is slight
ly laxative—both excellent features.
Pinex, as perhaps you know, Is a
most valuable concentrated com
pound of Norway white pine ex
tract, rich in guatacol and the other
natural healing pine elements.
No other preparation will do the
work of Pinex in this mixture, al
though strained honey can be used
instead of the sugar syrup, if ce-
sired.
Thousands of housewives in the
United States and Canada now use
this Pinex and Sugar Syrup Rem
edy This plan has often been imi
tated, but the old successful combi
nation has never been equaled. Its
low cost and qujck results have made
It immensely popular.
A guaranty of absolute satisfac
tion or money promptly refunded
goes with this preparation. Your
druggist has Pinex. or will get it for
you. If not, send to The Pinex Com
pany, Fort Wayne, Ind.