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A WINTER WOOING,
Gness I reckoned that I’d never
Pop that question t’ Mira inly.
First I tried to was one summer,
Settin’ on her dad’s veraudy.
Then one August, too, I thought I’d
Ask her, in the clover medder;
Had a set speech; but somehow she
looked too oold to take the header.
Next time wuz th’ slidin’ party
Out at Crawford’s; an’ Mirandy
Said she'd slide if I could find a
Extra-sized toboggan handy.
That jest set me tinglin’, so I
Asked her if she’d go a’ joggin’
Withmyarm8 around her, slidin*
Right along on life’s toboggan.
Then Mirandy smiled her sly way,
With the color all a-buddin’
In her cheeks; an’ said as how the
Question took her kind o’ sudden
Like, an’ left her without breath t’
Say a word; but guessed the (lyin’
Down th’ bill, with winter blowin'
In your face, wuz rather try in’.
But she whispered if I’d steer her,
Jest as straight an' jest as clever,
Down life’s groove as that toboggan,
She would slide with me forever
If I’d always guard her, keepin’
’Round my arms fer safe protection;
Watqhin’ fer the bumps an’ strivin’
Always in th’ right d’rection.
So we dim 1 ed th’ hill, while all th’
Stirs that winked above and hovered
Slipped behind th’ clouds an’ told th’
Other stars what they’d discovered
And with Mandy’s eyes t’ light me
Di nth’ hill, I’ve found the joggin’
Ji it uz pleasant, ’n’ as easy
A , that night on that toboggan.
—Charles G. Jlogers, in Outing.
C0Y0TE-THAT-BITES.
Not every Apache can get his fill of
blood before sun-up, and bis fill of mescal
before noon. Yet Coyote-That-Bites had
managed to achieve both these delight¬
ful ends, and of all the happy savages
on the Colorado desert he was the most
riotously, tumultuously happy. With
what keen delight he had drawn his
sharp blade across the throats of Jose
Sanchez and his wife after he had stolen
into their wagon in the gray dawn, and
what thrills of joy shot through his breast
when he silenced the yells of their two
little children with the butt end of their
father's own rifle. And then, when he
had taken what gold was in the Mexican's
bag, what mesca! was in the demijohn,
and had strapped Jose’s rather loose
fitting cartridge belt about his sun-
brown body, with what fierce pleasure
he stole away from the scene of his bloody
work, and with tho Mexican’s rifle on
his shoulder, had wandered far down
the dry arroyo, sipping from the demi¬
john the stupefying juice of the agave
from time*to time, until he felt that he
was growing drowsy.
Then he had dragged his uncertain
way along, until he had come to the
railroad track. He stared stupidly at
the bright steel rails, and ah looked up at
the humming wires in awed sort of
way. He would like to lie there behind
the rocks, he thought, until some one
should come along the track, and then
try a shot at him with his newly ac¬
quired .weapon. The demijohn was
growing light aud the rifle was growing
heavy. Well, it was getting toward
noon, and rather warm, even for an
Apache, and he would lie down in the
shade of the rocks over there and rest.
The humming of the wires is a sooth¬
ing sound, and no sooner had his head
touched the earth than sleep took a
mighty hold upon him, and wiped out
his realizing sense of joy, as sleep has a
way of doing with everybody that has
anything to be joyful for. And so he
lay, with the rifle by hi3 side, and bis
unspeakably hideous face turned up to¬
ward the blue that arched the desert.
It was quiet there and restful—no
sound save the music of the wires. Stay,
there were other sounds; but they came
some time after Covote-That-Bites had
thrown himself upon the sand, and gone
off to the Land of Nod. They came
faintly at first, and mingled with the
murmurings of the wires. Surely they
were the voices of children.
Had the red beast been awake he
might have imagined that they were the
haunting voices of the wee Mexican chil¬
dren whose blood he had so ruthlessly
shed that morning. But he heard them
not. They were very far from being
ghostly voices anyway—those tones that
now piped iorth so merrily as Dubs and
Gay trudged down the line. They were
walking in the scoop out along the road
bed—not on the track, for that was for¬
bidden.
There were other things that were for¬
bidden, too, and one of them was stray¬
ing so far away from the station. But
Dubs was “taking good care” of his
three year-old sister, and in the pride of
his six full years he was equal to the
care of half a dozen such as Gay.
To give Dubs all due credit, he did
not know he was half a mile from home,
and he really was going to turn back
pretty soou. But the children had found
manj interesting and beautiful things to
claim their attention. First there had
been a chase after a young owl that
could not fly, and that made its way
along in the most haphazard mannner
imaginable. Then a horrid toad had
been captured, and Dubs had dragged
the disgusted prisoner along by a string,
until he had tired of the sport and had
let him go again. Then, always keep¬
ing close to the railroad, they had en¬
tered a great field of cacti, where Dubs
had tried very hard to pick “toonies”
without getting the insidious, needle-
likc spines in his fingers. He was fairly
Successful, but he would not let the
fruit of the cactus go into his sister’s
chubby hands until it had been stripped
of its dangers by bis ready jack-knife.
“’F I on’y had turn matches to build
a fire wiv,” sighed Dubs, “I’d burn off
vese prickles, jus' like ve Injuns does.”
“O-ol” came suddenly from under
Gay's sunhonnet, “Wot’s dat?”
“W'y it's a jugl” and Dubs left the
“toonies” and started towards the
of rock where lay the Coyote’s demijohn,
and where also lay the Coyote himself.
The two trudged up the little slope,
and Dubs grasped the handlo of the
demijohn, only to let it drop again and
spring back quickly with Gay in his
arms. For ho had caught sight of the
Coyote, and he was smitten with a sud¬
den desire to go home.
But he saw the Indian did not move,
and so he suddenly became very brave.
Ho was certainly sound asleep, and no
more to be feared than papa, whon he
lay on his lounge in his midday repose.
Then, too, Dubs was quite sure he was
“worky Injun,” like the Yaquis who
shoveled and picked on the railroad, and
so his mind became wholly at ease,
The Coyote’s cartridge belt, which
lmd been so loosely strapped, had fallen
off, and lay by bis side. There were a
hundred very interesting bits of brass
sticking in it, and the children soon had
these scattered all about in the sand by
the snoring Coyote. In the scramble
for her share of the innocent toys, Gay
let one of them drop on the Coyote’s
leg. Perhaps the mescal’s influence was
on the wane, for a big brown knee was
thrust quickly up from the sand and a
big brown hand clutched the ugly knife
at the Coyote’s side; but the hand fell,
and the noble red man snored on.
Dubs tried on the cartridge belt and
became an Indian, all but the indis¬
pensable knife, and he concluded to
that from the sleeper, whose
fingers had lost their grip on the buck-
horn handle.
‘ ‘It’s bigger’n Mommie’s butcher knife,
ain’t it. Gay? the young savage asked,
as he grasped the handle of the ’tand devlish-
looking blade. “Now you over
vere an’ I’ll get ’hind vis wock. Yen
you turn along, an’ I’ll jump out and kill
you.”
Gay demurred.
“Oh,it’s on’y make b’leve. Vesekind
o’ Injuns don’ kill nobody,” aud he stuck
a contemptuous finger toward the inno¬
cent Coyote. “It’s on’y ’Paches ’at
kills, an’ vey’s none yound here, Mom-
mie says. I’m a ’Pache, so you better
look out.”
It was dubious sport for Gay, and
when it came to the killing part she
screamed lustily.
“You’ve woked him up an’ ’poiled it
all;” said Dubs in a tone of accusation.
“Now he’ll want his knife.”
Sure enough the Coyote That-Bites
did shake his brown legs and arms quite
vigorously,but the last two big swallows
of mescal held him down. So, after
turning over, and burying his hatchet¬
like face in the sand, be lay quiet again.
When he had thus turned over, was
brought into view the rifle, which had
been concealed by his dirty blanket.
Dubs eyed the weapon with covetous
eyes. He could not withstand the temp¬
tation of feeling it all over, standing it
up on its butt, and trying to shoulder it,
but this last feat ho could hardly accom¬
plish. Just what it was that kept bis
fingers off the trigger, and prevented a
sound that would surely have brought
the Coyote to his feet with a yell, I am
sure I cannot tell; but Dubs played with
that fascinating weapon tor nearly an
hour, while Gay poured sand over the
cartridges, hiding nearly all of them
from view.
By this time the sun’s rays were on
the long slant, and the children were
very hungry. By this time, too, the
Apache was growing restless, for the
mescal had nearly lost its grip upon him.
A train thundering by, or, much less, a
“swift” brushing against his black foot,
a spider dropping on bis leg, or even a
big fly buzzing at his eye—any of these
would have set his demon force into play
again.
But the children could not wait for
such demonstrations as these, though
why it did not occur to Dubs that the
Coyote’s ear needed tickling with a
grease-wood twig, the Lora only knows.
The wind was up, and the wires were
murmuring louder than ever. The wee
ones had sported in the black shadows
long enough—had played with the
fangs of the deadly serpent until they
were tired and their stomachs were
empty. So they set off on a trot for
home.
Just as they turned the bend and
came in sight of the low roof of the
station, a “dust-devil” swept by the rocks
where lay the Covote-That-Bites. He
jumped to his feet, grasped his empty
sheath, gave a mad whoop, and stared
about in feverish rage. There was his
knife, half-covered by the sand, and
there was his rifle, far from his side.
Here was the cartridge-belt, empty, and
all about him in the sand were countless
little foot-prints
A bewildered look stole over bis face,
but it passed away when his eye rested
on the empty demijohn. The expression
that replaced it was one of demoniacal
ferocity, and the lust of slaughter lay
heavily upon him. But the cartridges,
—where were they? He saw Gay’s
mound of sand, and kicked it, gave a
grunt of delight to see the brazen cap¬
sules that were scattered right aud left
by his foot.
He picked them all up, grunting over
eaeh one. Filling the belt and grasping
his rifle, he started off in the direction in
which the small footprints led. Like a
bloodhound, be chased along the track.
His eyes scanned the plain at every
turn, and his breath was hot and strong.
But when he turned the big curve aud
saw the station, he knew that he was
late—too late—and he gave a grunt of
disgust, and was off like the wind over a
side trail that led toward the sunset.
In the low-roofed station-house the
mother crooned to tired little Gay, lying
so soft and limp in her arms. She looked
out over the desert, saw the sun touch¬
ing the tips of the solemn giant cacti
with purple dots; saw the prickly peer
shrubs, holding their grotesque arms
above the great sweep of saud that ran
down to the low horizon, and felt the
inspiration of the scene as she had often
felt it before. For the desert has a
beauty that is all its own. She knew
that other women in the great cities,and
in the cool, green valleys, might pity
her in that desolate spot, but she felt
that she needed not their pity. Dubs
came and leaned his head against her
arm, where she sat, and little Gay nestled
down with a tired sigh. Yes, there was
much, sho thought, for which to bo
thankful.
And. in truth, there was .—Frank B.
Millard in the Overland.
The Cliff Dwellers.
The people oi Colorado are preparing
to give their young and thriving State a
good showing before the eyes of the
world at the Chicago Columbian Exposi¬
tion, and it is probable that its exhibit
will be one of the most interesting to be
seen. Mining affairs will be strikingly
exemplified, of course, for Colorado leads
the States in its output of the precious
metals, and the illustration of themodern
mining processes of drilling, boring,
blasting, lifting, separating and smelt¬
ing, with electrical appliances will be a
sight worth seeing. But mining will not
be the only Colorado feature exhibited
at Chicago. The cliff and cave dwell¬
ings, the former homes of a once active
and enterprising, and now vanished peo¬
ple, will also be illustrated in so perfect
and minute a manner as to afford to stu¬
dents and investigators all the facts that
the subject affords for the solution of the
strange problem. The canyons of Mon¬
tezuma County abound in these curious
dwellings, in which are found the still
undecayed roof and floor timbers, frag¬
ments of baskets, cloth, pottery and cook¬
ing vessels left behind by the vanished
race when they were driven in a body
from their ancestral homes by some piti¬
less foe or overwhelmed in some great
catastrope that left none to tell the story.
Some of these dwellings contain skele¬
tons also, which are being carefully col¬
lected and preserved. It is proposed to
make large models in clay of some-of the
more picturesque cliff homes, with their
watch towers and fortresses, and erect
them in the Colorado quarter of the Ex¬
position. A collection of well preserved
relics showing the mode of living and
domestic habits, and the condition of
civilization of the lost people, will add
interest to the picture—and it will be
the task then, for the archaeologists and
ethnologists of the world to tell us, if
they can, who this people were, where
they came from, how long since they
disappeared, aDd what became of them.
— St. Louis Star-Sayings.
Foibles of Notables.
Archduke Louis Victor, the younger
brother of the Emperor of Austria has
the most irritating trick of continually
snapping the fingers of his right hand
while he is talking to a person, especially
if he is any way animated. I suppose
that it is due to nervousness more than
to anything else; but when one sees him
thus snapping his fingers with his arm ex¬
tended at an angle of about forty-five de¬
grees from his body one is apt to beocme
sufficiently exasperated to long to give
him a good shaking. I may add that
there is a well-known and philanthropic
newspaper proprietor in a city within a
few hours’ distance from New York who
has a trick of manner that is somewhat
similar to that of the Archduke. Only
instead of snapping his fingers, hojie-
votes his superfluous energy to catching
imaginary flies. No matter what his
topic of conversation, or how bitterly
cold the weather, he will sweep his right
hand through the air, and suddenly close
it as if the fly was caught. He will then
carefully open it, of course without find¬
ing even the ghost of any insect. No
disappointment, however, is discernible
on his benignant featu'-es; and a minute
later tie is as actively engaged iu his
peculiar chase as ever. This strange
taste for fly-hunting appears to have been
shared by the father of the present King
of Bavaria, and it is related at Munich
that one day, when two of his Cabinet
Ministers called upon him with the draft
of a new law for which they required
his approval and signature they found
him seated in his armchair with an open
book on his knees. After reading the
statute to His Majesty, the Ministers
stood for a long time silently waitingfor
an answer. At length, when their pa¬
tience was nearly exhausted, the King
suddenly closed his book with a bang,
and exclaimed, with a look oi unuttera¬
ble triumph f* “I have got him! I have
got!” He had caught and crushed a
fly .—New York Tribune.
A Famous Miser.
Perhaps the most famous miser that
ever lived was John Ehve3, an English¬
man, who died from neglect because he
refused to incurthe expense of physicians
and nurses, though worth not less than
a million pounds. In the case of John El-
wes, his sordid character was not the re¬
sult of ignorance, for he wa3 a graduate
of a Swiss university, and later in life
was a member of Parliament. His greed
of gold was a hereditary sin. He was
the son of a London brewer, who died
when the boy was only four years old.
His mother survived, but to such an ex¬
tent did her passion for money gain a
hold upon her that, though she had
$500,000 in her own right, she actually
starved herself to death. An uncle, Sir
Harvey Elwes, was also a miser, and the
example of these two blood relatives ex¬
ercised such an influence upon John El¬
wes that he became ultimately the most
famous miser of three centuries. Alter
his return to England from Geneva young
Elwes moved in fashionable London so¬
ciety, where his prospective wealth en¬
titled him to recognition. When he
visited his uncle in Suffolk, where the
latter lived in the most abject penury,
his hopeful nephew would play a double
part. He would wear his fashionable
garments as far as a little inn in Chelms¬
ford, where he exchanged them for a
darned patched stockings pair of trousers, and clodhopper a worn-out shoes coat,
with iron buckles. In this attire he
would cnll upon ki3 un cle. The latter
would not permit a fire cold March
days, on the score of its' ' ping extrava¬
gant, and the two would Sit with a crust
of biead and odo glass of wine lietw
them until it was too dark to se ' each
other’s faces, and then they would re¬
tire to save the expense of candle. When
the uncle died he left his nephf or a for¬
tune of $500,001).— The Church, n.
BUDGET OF FUN;
HUMOROUS SICKTOHES FROM
VARIOUS sources.
An Awful Warning—A Dainty Dog—
Didn't Know How to Apply It—
A Social Catechism—Rather
Stale Dread, Etc.
He didn’t read the papers for they hadn't
any news;
At least, they didn’t coincide with his es-
And pecial views. day, with
when he caino to town one
criticism ripe,
He climbed to an electric lamp to light his
ancient pipe;
He hadn’t read the papers—but ho knew
He simply just what touched was best; and—the fluid
the wires
did the rest.
— Weekly Journalist.
A DAINTY DOG.
Tramp—“Say, guv'n'r, will yer dog
bite me?”
Owner—“Mot he. He’s very particu¬
lar what he eats.”— Judge.
MEN AND MONEY.
“Money talks,” remarked the rich Mr.
Smartellique to a young woman late one
evening.
“It goes sometimes, too,’ 3he replied,
and he didn’t understand .—Detroit Free
Press.
didn’t know how to apply it.
Lady (to rheumatic old woman)—“I
-am sorry you should suffer so—you
should try electricity.”
Old Woman—“Tbank you kindly,
mum. Be I to swallow it or rub it in?”
—Texas Siftings.
A SOCIAL CATECniSM.
“And what do you mean by a wise
man?”
“One who can do without the world.”
“And by a fool?”
“One who fancies that the world can¬
not do without him.”—
HIS VICTORY WON.
Returned Tourist—“Is Mr. Goodheart
still paying attention to your daughter?"
“Indeed he isn’t paying her any atten¬
tion at all.”
“Indeed! Did he jilt her?”
“No. he married her.”— Si. Louis
Star-Sayings.
SHE WAS PERENNIAL.
“Mrs. Trotter,” quoth Mr. T., “you
remind me of certain flowers by your di¬
rect oppositeness to them.”
“Wha-what do you mean, sir?”
“I refer, madam, to those dainty flow¬
ers that always shut up at suaset.”—
Harper's Bazar.
AN ANGLOMANIAC.
Morrison—“I hear Stivey met the
Prince, last summer.”
Jausen—‘ ‘Yes.”
Morrison—“What did Stivey say to
him?”
. Jansen—“Apologized for being an
American. ”— Life.
IIATIIER STALE DREAD.
Mrs. Slim Diet—“The boarders are
coming in. Cut the bread, Matilda.”
Miss Slimdiet—“Ma, I saw in a so¬
ciety paper to-day that bread should be
broken, not cut.”
Mrs. Slimdiet—“That’s the style now,
eh! Very well. Where’s the ax?"—
Good News.
johnny’s poor luck.
“Well, Johnny, what are you thankful
for?” asked the invited guest.
“NutkinV’ said the boy. “I ’aia’t
had any luck this year. On’y had one
cold all the fall, ’n’ that wasn’t bad
enough to keep me out of school more’n
a day. My chum’s had the mumps, V
has been out three weeks.”— Bazar.
A TOUGH OLD SPONGE.
Uncle Joe (on his second eight-month
visit lo Johnny’s house)—“Johnny, stop
pinching your uncle. What are you up
to, you little raseal!”
Johnny—‘‘Why, ma said you were a
regular sponge, and I was pinching you
to see if you would squeeze up like my
sponge that I bought down town. ”—
Pharmaceutical Journal.
HE FOLLOWED INSTRUCTIONS.
Lawyer—“Now, sir, listen to me,
and please give straightforward answers.
You say you drove a baker’s cart?”
“No, I did not.”
“Do you mean to tell me you do not
drive a baker’s cart?”
“No, sir.”
“What do you do, then?”
“I drive a horse .”—London Tit-Bits.
WANTED A HEAD l’UT ON HIM.
An old man with a head as destitute
of hair as a watermelon, entered a Man¬
hattan avenue drug store and told the
clerk he wanted a bottle of hair restorer.
“What kind of hair restorer do you
prefer?”
“I reckon I’ll have to take a bottle of
red hair restorer. That was the color it
used to be when I was a boy .”—Texas
Siftings.
THESE CLEVER IMPROMPTUS.
Bulfinch—“That was a wonderfully
clever speech that your husband just
made; and he tells mo it was entirely
impromptu.”
Mrs. Wooden—“Oh, yes; quite so.”
Bulfinch—“It is marvelous that he
could do so well when he looks so tired.”
Mrs. Wooden—“Well, I should think
he might look tired; ho sat up all night
thinking what he’d say .”—Boston Cou¬
rier.
WHY HE WAS SO GENEROUS.
Mrs. Grayneck—-“Johnny, I am very
glad to see that you gave your sister the
largest half of your apple.”
Johnny—“Ycs’m, I was very glad to
give it to her.”
Mrs. Grayneck—“My little son, you
do not know how It delights mo to hear
you soy so.”
Johnny—“Ycs'm; there was a big
worm hole in that half."— Bouton, Cou¬
rier.
A QUICK CUKE.
Wagg—“It’s too bad about the girl
that jumped oil the Washington Monu¬
ment, isn’t it?”
Wooden—“Why, what did she jump
off for?”
Wagg—“Why, you see sho was very
thin.”
Wooden—“What had that to do with
it?”
Wagg—“Why, she thought she’d
come down plump .”—Boston Cdurier.
THEY AGREED.
Capitalist—“My letting of the job for
putting up that building, sir, will de¬
pend on circumstances. I want to know
whether you and I agree on the proper
limit as to hight.”
Architect and Builder—“I have al¬
ways had decided views on that subject.
May I ask how high a building you con¬
template putting up?”
“Seventeen stories, sir.”
(With much firmness)—“In my opin¬
ion, sir, the limit for a building of this
class should be seventeen stories.” —
Chicago Tribune.
CHEAPER IN THE END.
Boutton—“So you are not going to
housekeeping when you get married?”
De Boarder—“No., We shall take
board for a year.”
“Isn’t that rather an extravagant way
to begin?”
“Not at all. I desire my wife to study
economy of my landlady. Then we will
start housekeeping, and I will make her
an allowance of as much a week a3 we
paid for board.”
“What do you think will be the re¬
sult?”
“Well, by the time wo are old she
ought to have about a million. ”—New
York Weekly.
STILL GOING.
One day a Lie broke out of its inclos¬
ure and started to travel.
And the man who owned the Premises
saw it after it had started and was sorry
he had not made the inclosure Lie-tight.
So he called his swiftest Truth and
said:
“A Lie has got loose and will do much
mischief if it is not stopped. I want you
to go after it aad briag it back' or kill
it!”
So the swift Truth started out after
the .Lie.
But the Lie had one Hour the Start.
At the end of the first Day the Lie was
going Lickety-split. The Truth was a
long way behind it and was getting
Tired.
It has not yet caught up.
And never will.— Chicago Tribune.
HE WANTED IT LIVELY.
He was an old bachelor looking for
“Is it pretty lively here?” he asked,
as the landlady was showing him about.
“I should just say it was. Now, if
you take this room there’s a man and his
wife on the right. They’re always quar¬
reling, and you can hear every word that
is said.”
“That must be interesting.”
“And on the left there's s young man
that is learning to play the cornet. He
practices half the time. And the family
across the hall have a melodeon. I have
a piano myself, and a girl upstairs is learn¬
ing the violin. I think you will find it
lively here.”
But he said if there wasn’t a zvlophone
and a calliope in the house he wouldn’t
tako the room. He was afraid he would
,be lonesone .—Detroit Free Press.
Lieutenant Bravo’s Indians.
There is a company of cavalry at Fort
Niobrara, commanded by Lieutenant
Dravo, of which ho is very proud.
“On the 21st day of April,” said the
officer, “I completed, the enlistment of
the fifty-five Indians in my company. An
Iqdian is more easily enlisted into the
cavalry, because he is allowed a horse.”
“His own pony?”
“No; he must be mounted upon a
horse as the other cavalry soldiers are.”
“Do you find it difficult to discipline
the Indians?”
“Not at all. They obey orders better
than white men, and you should see the
improvement in them. The comparison
between the Indian soldier and their re¬
latives at the agency is most favorable to
the soldier. An Indian, while he is not
round-shouldered, leans fovward and
bends his knees, but six months' ‘set¬
ting-up’ drill has changed all this materi¬
ally. Ten of my men are from the Car¬
lisle School in Pennsylvania, and the
junior corporal is a son of the famous
Two Strikes. We have a school iu the
garrison and they are at present learning
the alphabet. It is hard for them, too,
but they are very much in earnest and
learn readily. I promised them when
they enlisted that they should be as fully
equipped as the white soldiers, and I
have just returned from a nine days' trip
around the reservation, in which they
proved my words good to their relatives
and friends.”
“How did you induce them to cut
their hair?”
“It is tunny about that. I told them
they could have no uniforms until they
were clean and their hair cut. This was
Saturday; if they were ready, they could
don their uniforms Monday morning.
Sunday—the whole day—was spent in
bathing, six at a time, and on Monday
morning the entire company reported,
clean and with hair cut. I explain to
them their orders. They wish sincerely
to learn the white man’s way, and, as I
said before, are the most earnest workers
imaginable.”
Lieutenant Dravo is in Omaha under
orders to be consulted upon army mat¬
ters. He is enthusiastic upon the Indian
question, and personally cares for the
men.— Omaha World-Herald.
Over 4,000,000 peasants in Russia aic
in danger of starvation.
flow's TIil« f
V?© offer One Hundred Dollars reward
“ffiwVScK^h CHkKBr h Our C ‘““ 0t b “ CUr ° d bT
nr we, tno • undersigned, «fc Co., Props., known Toledo, O.
Cheney for the last 15 nave F. J.
years, businenH and believe him
perfectly tions, ami honorable fliinnelally in able all to carry out trimsac- ob¬
ligations made by their Arm. any
VVEST & Thuax, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo,
NYalding, Druggists Kinnan Toledo, & Marvin, Wholesale
0.
Hall s Catarrh Cure blood is lakon and internally, act¬
ing directly of upou the mucous sur-
fucoH the system. Testimonials sent free.
Price <5c. per bottle. Sold by all dru ggists.
The fear of future evil lain itaolf the great¬
est of evils.
For Dyspensia, Indigestion, and Stomach
disorders, use Brown’s iron Bitters. The Best
Tonic, it rebuilds the the system, cleans the Biood
ami strengthens muscle.-. A splendid ton¬
ic for weak and dobilitatod persons.
There is only one sudden death among wo¬
men to eight among men,
FITS stopped free by Dn. K link's Great
Neuvf, Restorer. No Fits after first day’s
use. Marvelous cures. Treatise and $2 trial
bottle free. Dr. Kline, 031 Arch St.. Phila., Pa*
For indigestion, constipation, sick head*
ache, weak stomach, disordered liver-take
Be^cbain’s Pills. For -ale by all dru ggists.
Out of Sorts
Describes a feeling peculiar to persons of dyspeptic
tendency, or caused by change of climate, season or
life. The stomach is out of order, the head aches or
does not feel right,
The Nerves'
seemed strnined to their utmost, the mind Is con¬
fused and irritable. This condition finds an excel¬
lent corrective in Hood’s Sarsaparilla, which, by its
regulating and toning powers soon
Cures Indigestion
restores harmony to the system, ghves strength of
mind, nerves and body. Be sure to get
Hood s Sarsaparilla
which in curative power is Peculiar to Itself.
FRIEND”
itfgh w To Young Mothers
m If \r/ li
k>V
Makes Ghild Birth Easy.
Shortens Labor,
Lessens Pain,
Endorsed by the Leading Physicians.
Rook to “Mothers” mailed FREE.
BRADFIELD REGULATOR CO.
ATLANTA, GA.
SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS.
lower ugust
Mr. Lorenzo F. F’eeper is very
well kno\yn to the citizens of Apple-
ton, Me.,! and neighborhood. He
says: “ Eight years ago I was taken
“ sick, and suffered as no one but a
“ dyspeptic can. I then began tak¬
ing August Flower. At that time
‘ ‘ I was a great sufferer. Every-
“ thing I ate distressed me so that I
“had to throw it up. Then in a
“ few moments that horrid distress
“ would come on and I would have
“to eat and suffer
For that “again. I took a
Horrid ‘ ‘ little of your med-
‘ ‘ icine, and felt much
Stomach “better, and after
Feeling. “ taking a little more
‘ ‘ August Flower my
“Dyspepsia time disap¬
peared, and since that sign I
“ have never had the first of it.
“lean eat anything without the
“least fear of distress. I wish all
“that are afflicted with that terrible
“ disease or the troubles caused by
“it would try August Flower, as I
“am satisfied there is no medicine
“equal to it.’’ @
GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878.
_ wTbaker & CO.’S
Breakfast Cocoa
from which the excess of oil
has been removed,
Is absolutely jnire and,
it is soluble.
f No Chemicals
are used in its preparation. It
I has more than three times the
l strength of Cocoa mixed with
Starch, Arrowroot or Sugar,
and is therefore far more eco¬
nomical, costing less than one
centacup . It is delicious, nour-
_ ishing, strengthening, easily
digested, and admirably adapted for invalids
as well as for persons in health.
Sold by Grocers ev erywhere.
W. BAKER & CO., Dorchester, Mass.
Ely’s is the best Cream refnedy for children Balml^W^ ^>LDinHS> 0
suffering fr om
GOLDIN HEA D
CATARRH Apply Balm into oa each nostril. ■Lsi .mMi
ELY BROS., 56 Warren St., S. Y.
THE SMAL LEST PILL IIS TH E WORLD! m
Z •tiny TTJTT’S pills® _
liver
have all tlie virtues of the larger ones;
MP equally Exact size effective; shown in purely this border. vegetable.
The New Drill Regulations for
INFANTRY. r bV£ SS:
It ID At (K'K 1 4 1 & Gr CO., d UHHitary Street N Goods), Y ork.
an , ew
mmm&m
$700 In Prizes. Word Contest.
For details send 2c. stamp to W. R.
KRAMER & CO., Chanute, Kansas.
__
address, wc will mail trial W WBBbn>nOTTLH g” fl" FS EL «g» ag» C.
THE OR. TAFT BROS. M. CO.,ROCHFSTER,H.Y.
PATENTSwsSS