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REALITY.
+
Of Love the minstrel and drew
An easy linger o’er /He strings.
Then laughed and sv.g of other things—
•Of grass and flowers alia azure blue.
Of Love wrote, and soft
And sweet the liquid measures flowed,
Then gave his moments to an ode.
And crooks and shepherds mentioned oft.
One day the singer met with Love,
And mighty music shook his strings,
While dreams and light imaginings
His new-roused spirit soared above.
Love met the poet on his way.
And kindled all his soul to lire.
Filled all his measures with desire,
And left no room for fancies gay.
The > ninstrel sang to Love one song,
And died for iov. yet lives in this.
The poet, touched bv Love’s warm kiss,
With echoes fills the atres long.
—Oscar Fay Adams.
THE ACCUSING CONSCIENCE
Mon treason's limbs trembled be
neath him as he stood up to receive
the verdict of the jury. For three
weeks the trial had waged about him
—now an accusing witness dramati
cally reciting damning facts which
brought the murder directly to the
accused mail’s door; again one who
recited what little there was to be
told in the prisoner’s favor. The
voice of the attorney for the defense,
striving to make the worst appear
the better reason, hrd risen in con
flict with the cold, cutting accusa
tions of the district attorney. Vis
ions of life and freedom were dis
placed by nightmares of the room
with the little door —the gaunt chair
—the twelve solemn-faced, profes
sional witnesses, the sharp click of
the key, the end!
Even the presence of his wife at
his side had not served to lighten the
load that he carried. He had felt at
times as if lie should be compelled to
rry out, so ordinary and humdrum
did it seem to everyone else —so vital
to him. The pain of it all was acute,
•and the more so because of his feel
ing of utter loneliness—because of
the fact that among all of them there,
he alone, Basil Montresson, knew
whether he had taken human life
wontonly; he alone could say
whether the tortures that he had en
dured through those three tumultu
ous weeks came from a consciousness
of outraged innocence, or of remorse
over the act and gnawing fear of the
xonsequences.
“Jurors, look upon the prisoner—
prisoner, look upon the jurors. How
say you, gentlemen of the jury, do
you find the prisoner guilty or not
guilty?”
“J\ T ot guilty.”
The words seemed to come from
far off. At first he wasn't sure that
he had heard right. A low murmur
of voices in the court room attracted
his attention, and he glanced about
in confusion. Then he felt a tugging
at his coat. He was drawn into his
seat, and a woman’s arms encircled
him. A woman’s head fell upon the
shoulder.
“Basil, Basil!” she cried, “don’t
you hear? Don’t you understand?
You are free, free! Oh, thank God
that it is so. Thank God! Thank
Clod! ”
Her cries awoke him from his stu
por. He bent forward mechanically
and kissed her. A pang went through
him when their lips met. He vaguely
felt that he had done something that
he should not have done. His attor
ney took his hand and pressed it,
saying:
“Congratulations, Montresson. It
was a hard fight, but I never had any
doubt as to the result. Come along,
now. There is nothing more to hold
you here. Come out in the fresh air.
Brace up, man; brace up!”
He looked curiously at this advo
cate —the man who had wrought the
-wonderful thing, and mumbled a few
words of thanks. But there was no
•warmth in the hand-clasp with wnich
he returned the salutation of the law
yer..
The next thing that he remembered
was being in the carriage beside his
wife. She was holding his hand, al
ternately smiling and weeping, and
murmuring her thanks for his de
liverance.
"The children will be waiting for
us," she crooned. "They will be
glad. Think, Basil, if —if it had—
been —otherwise.”
She shuddered and shrank back
Into the corner of the seat.
"But it couldn’t have been,” she
hastened to say. "Oh, I was confi
dent from the very beginning. J
knew it was all a mistake. [ knew
that they would see it as I did. How
could they believe that you, my
Basil, could—Oh, it is all too hor
rible.”
suddenly, in a hol
low voice, "it is all horrible. God, if
I could only get the thing out of my
mind.”
"But you are free now,” she said,
'‘exonerated, and the world knows
that you are innocent.”
He looked down at her with great,
blood-shot eyes--peering, question
ing eyes, eyes that seemed to read
her through and through, wondering
eyes, eyes filled with apprehension,
fear, shame, remorse—for what?
"Please, please, Basil, don't look
at me like that. You frighten me
Tell me what it is.”
"What is it?” he repeated. Then
he s&rugged his shoulders, and his
lips parted in a ghastly smile.
"Nohting—nothing,” he said hur
riedly.
She nestled closely to his side once
more, and her joy reached the su
preme height in that, and in silence.
So they rode out into the suburbs
of the great city, the man’s gaze fixed
wonderingly on the old familiar
sights that now looked so strange to
him. He had been in jail but nine
months and yet the change seemed
like that of a century span.
He speculated if the world would
ever again look to him as it did be
fore that night—that night when the
gale drove the clouds in great black
masses across the night and the
hawk cried shrilly; that night when
the moon leaped suddenly into a
blaze of spectral light, showing the
house —the trader who had come to
sleeping room above the carriage
buy corn—the, up-turned face- -that
night when a stiffened grean was an
swered back by a sharp cry of the
hawk calling across the void.
He shuddered as these disconcert
ed pictures framed themselves before
his gaze. The remark of his lawyer
flashed across his mind.
“I never had any doubt of the re
sult.”
*
He wondered why. Truly it was
a wonderful thing—this justice. He
felt the warm clasp of the lawyer’s
hand and glanced furtively at his
own. Was there anything on it? He
became sensible of a feeling of an
tipathy toward the man who had set
him free. There was something in
the hearty, open, honest frankness
of the lawyer that grated on him.
He turned his gaze upon his wife,
who met it with a serene smile, her
lips half parted.
“I trusted you all the time,” she
■whispered.
There it was again. She, too. She
grated on him as did the lawyer. He
wished that she didn’t have so much
trust in him—all of this confidence
touched a cord in his nature that
cried out in mocking protest. If it
hadn't set all his nerves tingling, he
would have been tempted to laugh
uproariously.
Then suddenly his mood changed.
What was the use of all this? He
was free, acquitted by a jury of his
peers. That was a fact. He had
stood his trial—hadn’t it been fair
and impartial? And here he was—
yes, it was reality—riding back to
his home, the stain of murder wiped
from his scutcheon, privileged once
more to hold his head high.
These thoughts rushed through
Montresson’s brain, and with a great
effort he sought to cast his burden
aside. A sort of smile spread over
his face. He gathered his wife in
his arms and kissed her.
“Thank God! Thank God!” she
murmured.
They were nearing the house now.
From the door the little ones came
rushing to meet the carriage. Be
fore he knew it he was out and they
r/ere capering about him—their
kisses burning into his flesh, their
merry laughter driving his tortured
soul to desperation.
“Bad man shut darling papa in
nasty prison.” lisped the youngest.
He looked down on her with an
expression of great longing, and then
turned as the little six-year-old
scrambled to his knee.
“Papa, tell your little daughter—
you wouldn't kill a man, would you?”
His head fell forward on his breast,
and great tears coursed down his
cheeks. The mother hastily gathered
up her brood and dragged them from
the room.
And then he rose up, and with
mighty strides went out by the side
door and proceeded directly to the
carriage house. Entering, he silently
closed and barred the door, and then
mounted the stairs to the room above.
He paused on the threshold and
his eyes became riveted on the bed.
“I was mad, mad,” he murmured
fiercely. “But now lam sane. Here
he fell, struck down by me. And
here I ” he strode over to a
dresser, and opening the bottom
drawer fumbled about for a minute.
The muscles of his face tightened.
“Pitiful, pitiful law,” he mur
mured. “Blind, aimless justice. Yjou
remove the scar from a brow by
driving it into the soul.”
With a feverish jerk he drew a re
volver from the drawer, examined the
chamber to see that the cartridges
were there.
He laid the muzzle of the revolver
against his temple and pulled the
! trigger.—Boston Cultivator.
Favorite Authors.
Of lawyers—Sue.
Of thieves s—Steele. 5 —Steele.
Of the impecunious—Borrow.
Of bachelors —Chambers.
Of the young widow —Newman.
Of the chiropodist—Foote.
Of the telegrapher—Cable.
Of the doctor —Payne and Aken
side.
Of the painter—Black, White,
Gray, Green and other Hughes.
Epicures go in for Crabbe and
Hare.
The avaricious want More.
Cricket players like Fielding.
The author wants his Wordsworth.
The fisherman takes to Hook and
Hake.
And President Roosevelt to Wilde,
Woods, and Traill.—Boston Tran
script.
Labor On the land.
*
It is no good saying airily that the
tilling of the fields comes naturally
to all men. It certainly does not
come natural to half the unemployed
men to be met with in large cities,
even when these men have a sincere
desire to get jvork. For agricultural
labor requires a large measure of
training and skill, just as other spe
cialized work does. —Sheffield Tele
graph.
New York City has twice as many
telephones as London, four times as
many as Berlin and six times as
i many as Paris,
JJ Good Roads. S
*
More About Rad Roads.
When the farmers learn to econo
mize as systematically as it is neces
sary for large industrial enterprises
to economize in order to meet com
petition, and make profits, farming
will be a much more remunerative
calling than it now is. One form of
economy is the construction of good
roads.
In a recent address Allerton S.
Cushman, of the United States De
partment of Agriculture, pointed out
that there are 2,000,000 miles of
public roads in America, and that
about seven per cent, of this mileage
is improved. During a year about
56,000,000,000 pounds of products
from the farm are hauled to market
or to shipping points. The cost of
hauling a ton cf products a mile on
the country rdads is upon the aver
age tw T enty-five cents. Stone roads
in good condition reduce the cost to
eight cents. “Dirt” roads in bad
condition necessitate an expense of
thirty-nine cents, wet, sandy roads
thirty-three cents, and dry, sandy
roads sixty-four cents. About $250,-
000,000 would be saved annually by
reducing the cost to twelve cents per
ton per mile.
The saving would be, like the pres
ent loss, so widely distributed that
the computation of the totals may
seem like an idle juggling of figures,
yet it is by such figuring that rail
roads and ether large corporations
learn where and how to cut expenses
effectively.
The Washington Herald reduces
the figures quoted by Mr. Cushman
to this form:
“Ic seems easy to write the figures
$1,000,000 a day; that is the amount
of loss, or rather that is the loss
of gain the farmer would get if he
had good roads. He would get sl,-
000,000 a day more for his products
than he does now. His bad roads im
ply a loss of about S3 a year for every
man, woman and child in the United
States. If we can add that $250,-
000,000 to the purchasing power of
the farmer it is not likely that we
should hear so much about hard
times; there would be bound to be a
proportional increase in prosperity
and our agricultural assets would be
very largely increased.”
These figures do not, of course,
take into account the increased value
of farming lands resulting from good
roads being constructed in the vicin
ity. The owners of city property are
more ready to take advantage of an
opportunity for the improvement of
streets that will enhance real estate
values than are the owners of coun
try property, yet both in the country
and in the city it. is sometimes amaz
ingly difficult to awaken the interest
of property owners to improvements
that cost a dime in taxes and not a
dollar in increased values.
The farmer’s freight expense is
fixed in part by the railroad, but the
expense begins at the farm, and the
haul to the railroad is expensive or
inexpensive in accordance with the
condition of the roads.—Louisville
Courier-Journal.
Road Building Problems.
A feature of the Good Roads State
Convention on the Steel Pier at At
lantic City, N. J., was the reading of
a paper prepared by Frederick Skene,
State Engineer of New York, in
which he reviewed the work done by
the Empire State in the way of road
building.
Mr. Skene’s paper said the State is
now building improved roads in fifty
three counties. On February 1 last
nearly 1000 miles of improved roads
distributed in the fifty-three counties
had been constructed. About 1000
miles were under contract at that
date, a large portion of which has
since been completed. Three hun
dred and eleven miles were com
pleted in 1907.
The State Engineer declared that
it was impossible at this date to state
definitely how many miles of im
proved highways will be completed
in 1908, but a conservative estimate
placed the number of miles at 700 or
over, twice that of 1907, and more
than that constructed in all the years
previous to the year 1907. The Leg
islature has appropriated $11,223,-
265 to date.
Automobile traffic is thus dis
cussed :
"The advent of
has greatly changed the problem of
highway construction. As you all
know, rapid moving motor wheels
tend to destroy and injure the im
proved highways to a great extent.
The automobile, however, has come
to stay, and it is up to us as engi
neers and road builders to solve the
problem, and build a roadway at rea
sonable cost that will meet these
conditions and withstand the ever
increasing automobile traffic.
"Numerous experiments have been
conducted by the department during
the last two years, using oil, asphal
toline, tarvia, rock asphalt and other
substances, some of which have been
more or less satisfactory. lam not
prepared to say, however, that any
of these substances will solve the
problem. It will take time and fur
ther study and experiments to settle
definitely this perplexing question.”
The automobilist, the State Engi
neer said, is now, and ever has been
from the start, one of the prime mov
ers of the great work of making good
roads throughout the State.
In Austria and France the p
ision of rescue apparatus in min
5 made compulsory.
A great deal of the Oriental i
aeco trade is controlled by a BrKis
American concern.
CHARITIES BESET BY
POOR COLLEGE MEN.
Mission Workers Say Most Em
ployers Refuse iV.en With Higher
Education. i
t *
As the result of a month’s careful
observation those in charge of charit
able institutions which care for the
needy men of the city declared last
night that a surprisingly large num
ber of college men are among the un
employed. Further it was stated that
it is very difficult to find work for
such men even in minor capacities, as
employers are doubtful of their use
fulness as practical men.
More than 400 graduates or stu
dents who had not finished their
courses at prominent universities and
colleges were applicants at Bowery
missions and East Side charitable or
ganizations during the last month for
work of any kind. The employers
who take men recommended to them
by the missions almost invariably
preferred those without a college
training regardless of the physical
equipment of the college men to do
the work.
The fact in itself that so many col
lege men are seeking work has be
come an interesting study for the so
ciologists who have to deal with them
and during the last month they have
been put through a course of ques
tions.
Although each man has given an
individual reason to show' why he was
seeking work, the lack of practical
training was common to all the an
swers. Ambition in many cases took
men aw r ay from college and sent them
out in the world to seek a living fop
themselves.
In explaining the cause of their
failure to get out of college a training
that would fit them to earn a living,
the following reasons were given by
many of the men seeking employ
ment:
Too much “bossing” by instructors.
Discouragement over failure to
pass examinations.
Unhappy marriages w'hich began
with elopements from college.
Tired of the restraint of college
life.
Anxious to get out in the world for
themselves and enjoy living on the
money which they actually earned.
In a few exceptional cases the ap
petite for liquor has been confessed,
but most of the men who have ap
plied at the Bowery missions have
been splendid examples of physical
manhood.
One of the men who has been a
close observer of the unemployed said
last night that the fact that college
men were wandering in large num
bers about the East Side in search of
work was due to over-production
from the colleges. Years ago it was
aji exceptional case to find a college
man at manual labor. That was be
cause there were but few college
bred men at that time. —New York
American.
Deposited in Advance.
A young Scotch farmer, who could
not read, came into a small country
city directly after an “anti-spitting”
ordinance had come into effect, and,
as fate would have it, was walking
directly toward the single policeman
which the place boasted when the
period of release for a copious amount
of tobacco juice became due. The
profuse squirt lighted with a splash
directly in the middle of the side
walk, and the Scot was subsequently
taken in charge by the copper and
hustled before the police magistrate.
When told the nature of his of
fense he warmly protested ignorance
of the law, but was informed that
this did not shield him. At the ma
gistrate’s advice he pleaded guilty
and was fined $5 and costs. This
totalled $7.50.
With painful dignity the young
kiltie drew forth a wallet and ex
tracted therefrom a $lO bill, which
he placed upon the desk and turned
to leave the place.
“Wait a moment, my friend,”
called the officer. “Here is your
change.”
“Nae, mon, I winna tak’ it,” coolly
replied the Scotchman. “I mae wiss
to blaw my nase before 1 lea’e toun.”
—Judge.
Enlistment of Minors.
We are indebted to George C. Holt
for the copy of a decision rendered
by him in the United States District
Court, Southern District of New York,
in the habeas corpus case of a minor,
who sought for his release from the
army on the plea that he enlisted
without the consent of his parents,
it will be observed that the learned
judge holds that recent decisions give
to the military authorities the right
of which they were deprived by pre
vious decisions, to punish a minor for
fraudulent enlistment and hold him
until he has completed any sentence
imposed in his case. As Judge Holt
says: “The recruiting officers of the
army ought to be freed from the nuis
ance of enlistments which may at
any time be nullified.” While the
decision is determined necessarily by
the law in this case, it is interesting
to note the fact that Judge Holt is
familiar with army conditions, he
having served during the Civil War
in the volunteers. —Army and Navy
Journal.
Airy Persiflage.
Mrs. Cuppotee—“How could a
woman ever bring herself to marry
an aeronaut? He’s so flighty.”
Mrs. Wavpher—“Yes, and too often
he lacks ballast.”
Mrs. Marmalayde—“Then, too, he
lcok3 down on ordinary people.”
Mrs. Chilliccn-Ksarney “And
again, he moves in the civ*
cl is.” — CL A: It.. leans,
YIoHITTG J 1
tevVORTH KNOWING^
Homer pigeons, in calm weather,
can travel at a speed of 1200 yards
a minute. With a brisk wind prevail
ing and blowing in the direction of its
flight, a pigeon has been Khown to
make 1900 yards a minute.
In the total number of mammals,
birds, reptiles and amphibians (4024)
on exhibition, the New' York Zoolog
ical Park stands to-day at the head of
all the zoological parks and gardens
of the world. Berlin comes next with
a total of 3149.
John Ruskin, the great English es
sayist and critic on art, at the age of
seven wrote verses in rhyme and kept
a diary.
It is claimed that the harbor facil
ities of Montreal are almost, as good
as those of Liverpool and have cost
much less.
A great tunnel has lately been
found at Gezer, in the land of the
Philistines, in Palestine.
A locomotive engineer remarked
that he never made a run in his life
at night that he did not strike sev
eral skunks.
Asa rule the white flowers are
more fragrant than those of other col
ors.
Though Russia has much coal and
iron her industries are quite undevel
oped. Russia produces only one
tenth of the quantity of iron produced
in the United States, and only one
twentieth of the quantity of coal.
There never was but one oil por
trait of Daniel Boone painted from
life, and that was by Chester Hard
ing, a distinguished artist of Boston.
New York City has 13 3 department
stores.
Twenty million feathers are sent
from Germany to England every year
for millinery purposes.
It takes about 2,000,000 cords of
w’ood a year to make the newspapers
that go through the presses of New
York City.
There are 20,000 dangerous crim
inals in Paris who are capable of do
ing murder and 100,000 who live by
dishonest means.
HOW WHALES
: -- ARE KILLED
The feature attracting the casual
observer is the vessel’s harpoon gun,
situated forward of everything, from
which the formidable harpoon is fired
into the whale. The gun looks like
a small cannon, and about a pound
of powder is used to discharge the
harpoon, which is rammed home in
the same manner as a shot would be,
and tied from the outside end with a
small cord, this breaking, of course,
when the gun is fired. The harpoon
is a very heavy missile, weighing sev
eral hundred pounds, which necessi
tates its being fired only at pretty
close range; the lance head pierces
the whale and soon afterwards ex
plodes a bomb contained in it, while
still farther back on the shaft are
barbs, which expand on entering the
whale, making it next to impossible
for the harpoon to be drawn out
again. Each harpoon, after being
fired, has tc be straightened by a
blacksmith in order to again fit the
gun-barrel. A stout hemp rope, four
inches in circumference, is attached
to the harpoon about eighteen inches
from the point; this line is of great
flexibility and strength, and is manu
factured * solely for whaling in Nor
way. A few fathoms of this line are
coiled on a plate directly under the
gun, the remainder being below
decks clear to run. There are two
of these lines each 1800 feet in
length, and sometimes they are none
too long for the purpose.—From
“There She Blows,” by C. R. Patter
son, in the Metropolitan Magazine.
One-Sided View.
“A member of the Georgia Legisla
ture,” he remarked, “has introduced
a bill which provides tbat any man
who is lured into marrying a woman
who has by artificial means enhanced
her beauty may, if he wishes, have
the marriage declared null and void.
That is to say, if the bridegroom dis
covers that the bride is compelled
•when she goes to bed to hang any
of her supposed charms upon a chair
he may consider himself free to wed
♦gain.”
“And what about it,” asked the
lady, “If a bride discovers after the
oeremony that the groom wears a
wig or dyes his mustache?”
“Any woman who is foolish enough
not to know a wig or a dyed mustache
when she sees one ought never to
make any complaint about it.” —Chi-
cago Record-Herald.
Insulted.
The big stray dog loomed up from
behind an ash barrel.
“Look here,” he growled savagely,
“I have a bone to pick with you.”
The multi-millionaire’s bull pup
looked up with wounded dignity.
“What!” he responded, in the dog
language, “pick a bone? Why, I
never ate anything but boneless
chicken and ham in my life. Oil
your way, you tramp!”
And leaping into his master's
$20,000 automobile he was whisked
off to the park.—Chicago News.
MR. WM. F. VAHLBERG
Mr. William F. Va hi berg iuul
City Okla., writes: g ’ Uk ‘ aho ®
“One bottle of Peruna which i k
taken did more toward relieving >
aggravated case of cat irrh at #/..* 35
ac\ than years of treatment 5ft 0 *
best physicians. D '#t
“1 oad given up hopes 0 f relief
only tried Peruna as a last reß oit ’
“I shall continue using it ils i ,
isfied it will effect an entire and nS
tit anr nt cure.
*‘J most cheerfully recommend iW,,
all who may read this.” rJruto
Peruna is usually taken ns a last re*is
Doctors have been tried and failed
remedies have been used tainiariu®
have been visited, i ravel has l-™ ?
sorted to. u r *
At last Peruna is tried. Relief 4 j omd
This historv is retreated over and 0 \
again, every day in the year, u Is Sllchl !
wilts as this this give Peruna its una
Bailable hold upon the people. We coil
say nothing that would add force to gJ
testimonials as the above. That reo
-jgho have had catarrh and have trj
every other remedy available, iind relief >
Peruna, constitutes the best argument tl>*
could be made.
■ ■ SKpss Pample tres^ment
gyßtf? IS fT* Md Crow Pi]**
■ S Esa RH Insula Cure
...., . Drk .cent by *al
FREE
REA CO C-EPT.B. 4 MINNEARCUS,MINN,
■ "■ '* ——~ —_
Most people, philosophies the Dal
las News, give advice about tie
things they don’t understand and get
it about the dfoings they do.
Hicks* Cnpwdh.e Cures Servousnesi,
-Whether tired out, worried, overworked,or
what not. It refreshes the brain and
nerves. It’s Liquid and pleasant to take.
10a., 25c., and 50c., at drug stores.
Aesop In “Little Italy”
A school teacher in the Italian quar
ter of an American city told her
children the story of the fox and the
grapes. Tony waa especially delight
ed with the story, and eagerly sought
•hhs ohum, Joe, who was in another
class. By good luck, the teacher over
heard Tony’s version.
In his excited, broken English he
told the fable much as it is written
until he came to the end. This waa
his rendering of the climax:
“De okla fox he say, “De grape no
good, anyhow; alia sour! I guess I
go getta de banaa’.’ ” —Youth’s Com
panion.
Petroleum Production Is Large.
The petroleum production of the
United State® ia 1907, says the Geo,
logical Survey report was character
ized by a total output far in excess
of any previous year, an unparalleled
accumulation of stocks, in spite Oi
which the price of all grades of ct
was kept at a high lerol. Sensation
al developments were the great in
crease in the new Illinois fkdd end
the phenomenal yield of Oklahoma,
together with increase in both Q lia2
tit-y and price iu California.
total product waa 1G6.095.355 harre 3
in 1907. an increase over 1900 of--
601,399 barrels, nr more than the total
product of petroleum in any year a?
to 1889. The total value
from $fV2.444,785 in 1906 to $1- -
749 in 1907. The average P ri^ e u _
creased only slightly. —New lor,
aid.
NEW UFE
Found In Change to Right Foe •
After one suffers from ‘ aD j
sia, sour stomach, for mon "
then finds the remedy is
the right kind of food, it is
to speak out about. g J
A N. Y. lady and her yonB "J
had such an experience,
wants others to know hov.
lief. She writes: T lit
“ For about fifteen * oDths d >
tie hoy and myself had sm to
sour stomach. We Wt ' u " *
retain much of anything . or3C
“After suffering in th,s
long I decided to consui '■ J q[ pre
ln stomach diseases, in 0 a
scribing drugs, he P ut aS irnP rote
Grape-Nuts, and we began to
immediately. jife. ‘
“It was the key to a ne
found we had been eating
heavy food which we cou.a c uj
In a few weeks after com*®
Grape-Nuts I was able o
housework. I wake in , te d atd
with a clear head and 1 gjgepi
have no sour stomach. u
we* and wakes with a we} gW
“We have regained our - fof
and continue to eat G ■ . meals
- the morning and even *
We are well and happy £ •
Swape-Nuta.” “There a Rea
Name given by p “ 3! ,y” Ko ad tf
Creak, Mieh. Read
Wellvllle,” in pkgs. ? J
Ever read the above ■
new one appear* **' n .""A (u ll i
They are genuine, true,
human interest.