Newspaper Page Text
6
We meet and part—the ■wgyld,js wste;s
We journey onward side by sMe
-A little while, and then again
Gur pc
A Silent.yearAuig of the jhearl
For what has grown of life a part; "
A chado v passing o’er the sun*
gone, and-lifd'ftgnin has come,
'We meet and pari, and then forget;
And life holds blessing; for us yet,
—Hester Freeman, i;i the Current.
BIAB/S BACKSLIDING.
T>sar Gillett—Tobiah, by baptism—
drove down the muddy road and stop
jgcd at Steuhen Finney's front gate. It
in eatly spring.
jTEc m-st thaw in; the sun shone
down warmly, and the roofs of the
• houses and barns and the few dirty drifts
of snow; in the appeared
' . .-ly bright beneath it. The wheels
#JMars*tWo-s<ated bhggy dripped with
mud, and the tail red horse was well
spattered,
Stephen Finney’s place was severely
-neat in all particulars. The square house
was wingless; the yard was nndecorated
save for an ey ergrec $ bjsh set with geo-,
metrieat* preciMoli on each side of the
brick walk, and an elliptical flower-bed
whoS 1 !? bareness was atoned for by the
large jiink seashells which bordered it;
the green paper shades in the front win
clown were rolled up as nearly as possible
to the same point, and gave a glimpse of
:,pt clo/e against the wall.
The-door opened before JJiar could
alight, and a girl came out. She wore
a red-and black checked shawl over a j
black alpaca dress, and she came down
the wadi with u stiffness •which indicated
a corrtciousnoss of being dressed up.
Iter thin, frockk’d face wore a pleased
look.
, w “Gohd-afternoon, Louise,” said Biar.
“(lood-afternoop, Biar,” the girl re
'sftoidcL -“I was idFready, and I thought
there Vrasn’t no heed of your getting out
and coming in.”
She climbed iut,> the buggy unassisted,
and sat down on the front seat beside the
long-legged, light diaired, serious-visaged
TlOnud splashed up-on them as they
But Bia! was ‘‘keeping
eonqiany” with Louise Pinney, and it hAd 1
not entered their heads to omit their
a|t esnopa dijve because the
®tv;w*l>afiff, “Keither wire they dis-j
inrbed by their lack of a single buggy. |
The twe sfliited oae wnis all that Biar pos
sesFcdj, except a lumber-wagon, and they ■
would not hive stopped at that if it had
been a condition of their going.
“Mis’ Baldwin’s got a visitor,” Louise
*®id. tw they came in sight of a long, yel-.
low painted house. “She’s got her cousin
from over in Dodsonville; Mandy Saw-f
yer’s her name. Her folks are away from i
home, and sho’s staying to Mis’ Baldwin’s !
while they’re gone. I was down to Mis’ j
Baldwin’s yesterday, and she introduced I
me. fine’s a real lively actidg girl.”
“Is that her?” said Biar.
guziug udnprybly at a young
girl who was standing at the Baldwins’
n,nt J| al & &h« was4lftten at the
tart sS; >ns tan and phnnp, and there
*®? 1 Itark-d pretention to style and
gMvW jfi her blue, silk-trimmed*lre»s.
ner wnlte beads and the ribbon on top of
b<-r herd. She had red cheeks, sharp
blue eyes smd a prttfttsion of light curls,
wlwh Tc.'t-Hliotrt hoßnßind face irt tSie
manner of an old-fashioned china doll.
“H<JW d’ yyu do Mis* Piuney?’? she
vaßed ottt. *
Bair was staring at her broadly, and
•he gave lutn u pert little nod.
Hr ‘ trtrne I to look back at
her as they drove on, and she returned
.Ms pnzdbdlflly,’ shaking back her curls
jauntily and swinging herself on the
gate.
“She's pretty good-looking.” said
Biiir; but that was it feeble expression of
the admiral ion with which Mist Mandy
fhwyer*s b’ootnhig charms had overpow
' • ered him.
Iliur generally dropped in at Stephen
Finney's two or three evenings a week;
it wtw a net e sury part of keeping com
party.
That week he did not come. Louisa
put on her black alpaca every evening,
and took it oil at 7:30. lhar never c.nne
tati-r t’ai 7:30, and there was no need of
i W*‘WWiW >a ' llii't time, und wear
i»g it out. S’li did rot know why he
8d not rttfte: Iftt die had hill hint ip
in. ..nd hia r m-.ippiarame did not
t&3 net siHpiein.wr, Ibv layman Bitk'r
■vmi'.e in toward the end of the week with
a Wfi&g of news
Izunan Biker find been mildly atten
tive to Louis • before Bi.tr Gillett's sue-
He had nnt admired her p.a -
he fluttered himself that l.e
knew ago >d-todkb.?g girl when he saw'
one; but he had established unenviable
-reputation as a lady s tnnn. and t» keep
it untarnished it was necessary that ther •
ahoidd be no girl in the neighborhood
who hud not *‘gxnt? with'* him. He had
bedewed his preference on Tilly Billtng
biau el late; but he was leaving 'Till v
severely alone at prerent because she hi.il
bad ' other c.Huanny" when he had in
vited her to the la<t‘ sociable, lie was a
«b.o-t bony young m tn, with small dark
•yes and a prominent tooth. Ik* had
clerked lor a month or ' n in a shoe store
ioCx nuiird town, and th\ nwtropoli-
Un experience showed itself in his spot
ted oravnt and his celluloid ruff-buttons.
, ‘There's a sma-hing girl down to
Baldwin’*." was lymaa’s opening re
waarit, It wss a term which had been
frequently rmployel ut the shoestore.
Ftrpheh Piumy. his wife and the
*‘luu<i gid” werj? in the &ii ting -room.
. If i: l.r.d been War they would have r>-
tired to thebm k pirt of the hottae.be
owe War was * sternly company,” and
«t«a<h tothpasiy was n-ver infringed up n
by tin Lmih in gvn ral.
"14»*et hrrnnd Bmr GiUrtt out walk
tag u»t iMViv,'* Lym in pursued. ' "They
a»y thty're gmn» to-ither."
Loafer locked at him. He - thin cheeks
grew h-'t and col -Hess. Stephen Fiaucv
and h, s w ilt and the hired girl looked at
Jk‘''a»",xfeu»?y.” and the tomer adtbessod
♦ remark t« Lyman Biker concerning the
wwk'mg imtnf taxes, on the road Ue
hims -,f wit* rc-»»l luii'icr, and he didn't
j’vdeuUir to have «uy shirking this
Lo.s re sat sifent. »«• Muhing down her
bbw h ■ ;a a l.yntva had cwitt? Before
Lalf |.'.‘t 5e.,,1 and Mijlng noikiug.
iMit hr fmd'y got up ’e gu. she
. .ruse ni»
“Be you certain it was him!” she
said.
Who?” slid the young man.
“Be you certain it was Biar?”
“That I met walking with that girl
that’s to Bakiwm’ii? Oh, land! yea,*'
Lyman re spond 3J.
Louise did not give up all hope. Sun
day afternoon she put on her black al
paca and her red and-black shawl, and
stood watching for him in the front win
dow. She could not believe that he
would not come: and when she
saw the two-seated buggy coming
down the road, with Biar’S lanky form on
the front seat, the dull -weight at her
hea t lifted,and left herin a joyful glow.
The mud was dried to-day; the wheels
of Biar’s buggy were black and shiny;
Biar,himself had an unusual air of smart
ness, and wore a new hat—a widc
hrimmed felt. Bit he drove straight by
without turning his head.
Lyman Baker came in the next even
ieg, and again three days afterward. On
that Occasion Mr. and Mrs. Pinney and
the hired girl Went out into the kitchen;
it looked as though Lyman was going to
be steady company.
The young man sat in a large rocking
chair with figured calico cushion's and a
crocheted “tidy.” Louise had been sit
ting at the table, with its stamped oil
cloth cover and its red-wicked kerosene
lamp, with a small pasteboard box before
her, whose contents she had been sober
ly fingering over. It held all that Biar
had ever given her: a plaid silk hand
kerchief. a small tin-type of himself, and
a red cornelian bracelet. She put the
cover on the box and dropped it into her
lap when the visitor entered.
She knew quite well now that Biar
j had deserted her; that he was drawn
i away and held fast by the superior
| charms of another girl, and that he was
“going with” her steadily; that there
was no hope of regaining him. She had
settled down into a hopelessness which
wafj worse than the first sharp pang; and
’ her despair had developed a quiet pas
j sivity. She was not troubled by Lyman
I Baker's visits; she had not the jealousy
I for her trampled hopes nor the self
i assertion necessary for rebelling against
■ him, 'even in thought. She accepted
I him ns a part of her misfortune.
Lyman broke the long opening silence
I by a remark concerning the weather,
i lie said they had had a middling fair
, spell. lie followed it up, after another
pause, with a piece of information.
i “They say that Biar Gillett and that
girl to Baldwin's—whnt’s her name!
; “Mandy Sawyer,” slid Louise, raising
i her eyes in quick apprehension.
“They say they’re going to bemarri'd.
• They say Biar’s been over to the Centre
and got a license, and they’re going to
i be married next Sunday night after meet-
■ ing’’
“You don’tsayso!” said the girl. But
she felt no astonishment. The sudden
ness of the consummation was a fit ele
ment in the crude young courtship; and
she felt it vaguely. Her hands were un
steady, and she rubbed them up and
down the little pasteboard box. Then
she put it on the table and shoved it awav.
vithout anger. It did not seem to be
ongto her now.
Lyman looked at her nndhturb
idhr. ffe knew that she ami Blar Gillett
md been keCpihg company, but. he had
io Misjiicion that she could have given
Biar Gillett more than a passing thought,
.a the face of his own superior attrac
nM I
A sudden idea occurred to him—an
dea which was encouraged by recollec
.ioiisof Tilly Dillingham and the last so
'lftble. He moved about briskly on his
jalico cushion, staring at Lousie. The
dea, considered in the abstract, pleased
lim; hissmall, dark face reddened ex
ritedly, and his mouth drew back in a
nnilr over the prominent tooth.
“1 guess Biar Gillett don’t suspicion
.rat whit you're worrying some about
dim and that girl to Baldwin's,” he said.
He was thinking that perhaps Tilly
Dillingham flattered herself that he was
worrying about her.
“It'd be a pretiy good one on him if
rou sh’d—if you wai to—’’ l.e rubbel
xphis hair,and cleared his throat. “S’pos
ug I run over to the ('enter and get a
icense, and you cn 1 me was to get tnar
•’.cd next Bunday night after meeting,
sirncashhn? Igu as he'd be consider
ible surprised.” It was Tilly Diiling
latn'a figure, however, which he pic
anod vividly to himself.
l.o.Hse stared at him.
“I s'posQ it'd be pretty sudden,” the
roung m m pursued; he was < niboldened
jy fit r evident :ur.azc:ftont and awe. and
le spoke patronizingly. "But I’d jest as
ief doit a; not.” He was moved to
ilmiratioa of h’s own magnanimity.
'I d ft't as lief r.s not,” he repeated,
Hi' k;t. n r heard him dumbly. Her
find V..4S confused; but it wa- not with
pee ;t!t;ons concerning her own part in
he burlesque. Her chief sensation us
egarded herself was a quiet conviction
hat nothing would make much diifer
•icc to her. She koked across at this
udden suitor, in unresisting silence.
“I’ll apeak to your folks,’’said Lyman,
le went into the kitchen, and Louise
;eard his.voice for a brief space.
"Wnl, I'll go over to the Center to
iorrow, said Lyman, coming back into
he sitting room and shutting the kitchen
oor after hinu “And I’ll come around
or you Bundav night and take you to
leeting. I s'posv exerybody 'll think it’s
retty sudden; but I'm willing, if -o
on be. I a'pese you be? Your pa and
an h'ain’t no objections.”
“Wall” said Louise, drearily.
There did not seem t > be anything
tore to *ay on th ■ subject, an I Lyman
o:»k up his hat. He was feeling highly
omplacent: he had thought no further
han of Tilly Dillingham's astonished
hagr'u.
Tm're was an unusual attendance at
■meeting’’ Sunday evening.
There had never been a church in the
mall < > mnmuity. The two Sanday ser
i<e and th? Friday evening pn.yer
leeting were held in the school-house,
'o-u'.gh: the rough wooden sett*,
watched and notched, and carved with
nithds were full; for everybody had
; ant shat Bur Gillett and the girl at
Uldw'ui's w ere going l » be matrfed a:
he close of ihe sorvicK*.
Lym.m Faker aiul I ouhe Piuney s:t
ogvther on a front b. arh. Tl»e young
tan was flushed and fislgvty; the girl -a*
t »:ioab ss. She kt'i» ht r hands cfe'qu’d
og». tber under her tej-u;d-black dtawl.
mi she lookvd shtinkirgy toward the
loor; Biar Gillett and Mandy Sawver
lad not yet arrived.
'I he minister, a mild old man with dim
ayes and a feeble voice, held the lamp
>ver his Bible while he read the text,
tie had preached for half a century, bus
. sled about from post to post and taking
ns buildings meekly. Now he had
,uund a comparative calm in the little,
ipa'sely attended, unorganized church;
re had settled into a pleasant piaceful
icrs.
The door opened, and Biar Gillett
walked in, aione. His face took on a
darker tinge as he met the eves of the
congregation turned upon him in a frank
stare. He sat down in the nearest seat,
fingering the rim of his hat.
Louise Pinney gave a gasp. Her face
grew white, and she pressed her hands
tightly together under her shawl to stop
her trembling. He was alone; she was
not with him; she had not come. That
was all she was conscious of. She sat
staring across at him; she saw nothing
else, and the words of the preacher were
a vague murmur in her ears.
Ihe discourse wandered on to its end.
The last hymn was given out and sung
through. Lyman Baker prevented the
benediction by striding up the room,
mounting the platform and slapping a
folded paper down on the table. He was
red and excited, and he was keeping an
eye on Tilly Dillingham.
“If you'll jest do me the favor to ex
amine that paper,” he said, with an off
hand air which he had acquired at the
shoe-store. “Its a license,” he added,in
explanation to the gaping assembly, “and
the name o’ the lady—”
But Louise had stood up, clinging
tremblingly to a desk.
“I can’t—l can’t!” she cried, faintly.
The blood rushed back to her white face,
and she sank down -weakly on her seat.
There was an excited hum, and then
the formality of the meeting melted
away. It became a social gathering—
sympathetic, inquiring and judicial.
A knot of women promptly surrounded
Louise. They had immediately compre
hended the entire case, and they -were
ready to discuss and advise.
Lyman Baker stood open-mouthed.
“I wouldn’t urge her, Lyman,” said
one of the women, putting into words
the popular conclusion. “I guess Louise
hadn’t really made up her mind. I
wouldn’t do nothing more about it jest
now.”
Somebody brought the tin dipper with
some water to Louise; but she did not
take it. She got up and went to the
door, and Biar Gillett, after a moment of
hesitation, followed her out.
The meeting dispersed by lingering de
grees, Lyman Baker with the rest. He
was looked upon, strangely enough, as
something of a lion, and he was compos
edly aware of it. He went home with
Tilly Dillingham’s elder sister, as a first
step in a gradual and dignified return’to
Tilly Dillingham herself.
Louise Pinney looked up into Biar's
face as they walked along.
“Ain’t you going to rnarrv her?” she
said.
“Wai. no,” Biar responded: “I was
calculating to. I s’posfl you heard we
was going to be married to-night?” . r' <
“Yes,” said the girl.
“Wai, we was c.'dculating
her folks come home, and mina wrep to
Mis’ Baldwin’s after her, an< I they didn’t
favor it ; they thought »he was pUTty
middling young. They took her home
with ’em. 1 ain't expecting to see her
again,” he added, with soma faint con
ception of the tumult in the girl’s heart.
“Oh, Biar!” she said. She wiped the
liappy tears off her freckled face,— Emma
A. wner,
■— algo
The Champion Lazy Ulgif.
The champion lazy man lives across
■ the street from me, writes Clara Belle in
■ a New York letter to the Cincinnati Ah
quirer. I have watched him on and off
for months, and he is the only man I
ever knew who didn't do anything at all.
It is true th -.t he filed his nails once, but
he looked at them for hours at a time
every day for a week lx?fore he began
work, and then he was the greater part
of another week getting them in shape.
i Since that time he has been placidly ad
miring them whenever I have glanced
across the way at him. He is large,
fat and heavy-eved. and I don't think
he goes out of the house once a month,
lie has the appearance of perfect- health,
and about the only exercise he takes is
that involved in tire movement of turn
ing his head sideways so that he can
look out of the window. He lives in
the front window of his big ho. se—he
is a widower and a man of large means—-
where he has constructed a curious
sort of a divan. The low win
dow sill has been widened and
extended, and heaped with cush
ions and rugs. Two iron arms or
brackets extend fiom either side of the
window. They art? designed to hold
books. Outside of the window and at
tached to the easement are mirror.; ar
ranged at such an angle that one within
the room may look out and see up and
down the street. There are thick por
tieres across the windows. At eleven
o'clock every day a servant draws these
curtains aside, mid in about an hour from
that time the ehampion lazy man waddles
up to the window and stares sleepily out
at the street. He usually wears a bath
robe, or dressing-gown, though his attire
is otherwise neat and conventional. He
is then scarcely out of it until he sinks at
once into his luxuriant cushion at the
window. His heavy eves ere turned upon
any object that may interest him in the
street, und he solemnly aid soulfully
stares at it until the servant appears with
the breakfast tray. He fe
too much fatigued to sit at
the table and cat. and so the
tray is placed beside him .and lie sits
there and he munches his food lazily for
the next hour. After that he sits and
looks out of the window until it is time
to cat dinner. I have known him once
or twice to sit up to dinner, but this is
only on rare occasions. Itegularly every
day hisearri ige comes round to take him
out for a drive, and regularly he stays at
home. II? seems to be rather amused,
however, by the horses as they walk up
and down before tin* house. There arc
a lot of complacent old family servants to
attend to him. He never goes to the
theatre or the opera, has no family tics,
and simply lives in solitude and magnifi
eence in a big city house ami vrorship
i :g' but one i.od -hirasv f It isn’t a
particularly noble life, perhaps, b.jt then
he seems to like it, and I don't know
FEATHERY PETS. :
THE TRADE IN TUNEFL’b TITRES
OF BRILLIANT PLUMAGE.
Something Also About Monkeys and
Other Gentle Pets Without
Wings—Rare Birds that
Bring Big Pi kes
•VF ■■ ■ Iff t , '•
A reporter for the Tribune recently ,
visited a number of the pl 'COs where the i
demand for household pe„s is supplied. ;
Entering a store where a number of !
cages were displayed in the window, and |
in front of which several street urchins ’
were en joying the sight of the gay y- j
plumed bii ds in brass and painted cages, i
lie -was met by a chipper young- woman, !
who readily responded to his inquiries. ,
The first batch of information was lost I
to the seeker after it in a pandemonium j
e.f howls, yells and screeches. However, i
becoming somewhat accustomed to the :
uncanny noises, he comprehended that j
she was bewailing the paucity of trade. '
“Monkeys?” went on the young wo- I
man, in response to further inquiries, j
“No, we haven’t one in the store, and I i
hope I may never see one of them again
as long as I live. They’re just a nuisai.ee,
and that’s all. I never co uld sec nothing
funny in them. We haven’t had one in
the house for a month. I et’s see, the
last one was a Capuch’n, and we sold it
to a newly-married couple who live in
Denver. They were awfully rich, and
had a conservatory for flowers, you
know, and the lady said she th night a
monkey in the ccnservat >ry would look '
just too cute for anything. And the j
husband—well, 1 could see that anything j
she wanted she could have. They bougiit ,
the monkey. I’m perfectly sure of one I
thing: by this time they either haven’t j
any monkey or they haven’t any conserv- j
atory. A "‘monk’ is death on p’ants of j
any "kind. Why, this same monkey we'd
sold once before to an artist on Monroe
street, who said he wanted it for an orna
ment for his st idio, whatever that is.
The artist lent the beast to a man who
was growing a century plant on the lake
front, together with a museum. 1 hat
monkey consume* the century plant one •
night for alate supper, and it didn't d;s- ,
turb hi; digestion any more than if it l ad .
been a Welsh rarebit. I don't know wh it ’
kind of a century plant it was. It might j
have becu a young plant. _ Any- ,
how, back went ‘monk’ to the artist and .
then back h -re, when the owner of the
shop bought him in again at h<lf price. ;
We had a monkey here once tha’: 1 a l a ;
broken aim. He couldn't u e it, but a 1
man bought him just the same. He said |
he was a doctor. So I suppose he wanted .
to experiment on him.”
The reporter was tired of monkey talk i
and turned to the occupants of the erges, j
“Those love birds there,” said the ac- [
compli-h?d young woman, “don’t, sing,
but we sell ’em for $5 a ] air. That ;
there’s a Toucan. He’s worth $35.” The
bird alluded to i ppcared to the unini
tiated eye neither valuable for its beauty I
of plumage nor sweetness of voice. It is j
a native of Central America, and, though ;
in appearance qu’te as revolutionary as !
most "o,f the denij.ens of that part of the
globe,-has the one redeeming virtue of
being gentle and incapable of the ferocity j
whick its villanous-looking. beak would
suggest.
“That bird,” said th© reporter’s in
formant, pointing to a fat little creature
I contentedly warbling to itself, ‘ that bird
F is a Japanese robin, and the price of it is
I $3.” This art c'.e in the feathered line i
i resembles the ordinary robin in appear- ’
! an r c, except in the fi’”t tint it is nearly
as bright-hued a» a
The demand, the TriLitne's rtpics;ft* 1
tativowas infonnc.l, is greatest for ca
naries, after xsh'ch come mocking-birds.
The s-ile ofb’aok caps, a bird who? e title
betrays its chief characteristic, be was
told, came next in the estimation of fan
ciers, to the nightingales as tong-birds.
The only further icformiticn volun
teered war that Guinea-pig; were rated
in the house hold-pot maiket at from $2
to $2.50 p.-r j air.
At another establishment, similar to
th? cne just describe j, there were the
same rows of cage*, cont ruing canaries,
parrots doves and pigeons; the : ante as-
Eortnjent of aquarian; :, ab v.nding in
gold and silver fish. la a c rn~r of a
cage fully fifty tiny white rii; e were hud
dled clos.ly together. Gray pigeons
and while dovi s cooed plaintively from
dark pla.es under t’c eott r. Cn a
high ptrch sat a most Inr.g'.ly looking
parrot, evidently proud of i:s brilliant
plumage and yet oblivions to the fact
that its tail fetuhris were d s r. c< fully
defl iont in numb.r. C'.h?r ? .irr. t < there
were whose feat’:ers wer? c flored by na
ture with hues the Lkuding o which
rucae. sfuly defies man’s cm c idei of the
proper harmony o' ti..tg. Th:e - ditniau
tivg marmosets looked forth fiom the’.r
rc'reat with their bright, spa king ( y<*s,
seemingly full of good natlrie. As a
matter of fact they are al no t untama
ble. As they darted about the ir cage
they resembled so many hairy comets,
the disproporti rate size of their tails to
their bodi<s producing that elect.
Like the first store visfeed the not-es
were iod'.s ribible. Let one in.mngino
sounds composed of commingled aha,
ees, suhm, oo and uuus. which were
shrieked from every nook and corner.
Away from all light fully a dozen little
parrots were wasting their
in dark, dilapidated cages A dis?enso
late and solitary rnooKey scrarihedhis
cheek in nn embarrassed way a* the re
}>ortcr approached its cage und added
evid -nee to the “origin bf-'pocies 5 doc
trine by his perfect frenzy of fear and
anger when he tint got n glimpse of the
reporter. Before the reporter had left,
how<'ver. the animal had so far suc
cunil el to th?* usual course of coaxing
adopted by interviewers that he betrayed
a v\ ry evident curiosity as to what kind
of a queer bird his visitor might be. He
even went so far as to attempt to relate
hi- personal grievances in doleful chat
ter, His confidence will never be be
t ayed.
» n mn'.oye stated that the foreign
bi ii-are all brought frou New York,
whsie the jobbers buy them as they are
b '■. tU'ht from the slips. L‘.'<-«yi> 7‘ri-
A citizen of Burlington. lowa, has ap
p?a led to his will a bpquest of SIOO to
the newspaper man wh > will write,at his
death, th?
tie , his wife t > co&'t It ate the lommittee
of award.
AURAiTJI
Most of the diseases which afflict mankind are origin
ally caused by a disordered condition of the LIV ER,
For all comnlaints of this kind, such as Torpidity cf
the Liver, Biliousness. Nervous Dyspepsia. Indiger
tion, Irregularity of the Bowels, Constipation. Flatu
lency. Eructations and Burning of the Stomach
(sometimes called Heartburn) Miasma, Malaria,
Bloody Flux, Chills and Fever, Breakbone Fever,
Exhaustion boforo or after Fevers, Chronic Diar
rhoea. Loss of Appetite, Headache, Foul Breath,
Irregularities incidental to Females, Beari-. g-d-iM n
»££STADIGER S ftURAWTH
is Invaluable. It is not a panacea for al! disease’,
but all diseases of the LIVER,
will WUtAR STOMACH and BOWELS.
It changes the complexion from a waxy, yellow
tinge, to r ruddy, healthy color. It entirely removes
low. gloomy spirits. It is one of the BEST AL
TERATIVES and PURIFIERS OF THE
BLOOD, and Is A VALUABLE TONIC.
STADiCER’S AURANTSi
Eor sale by all Druggists. Price 81.00 per bottle.
C. F.STADiCER, Proprietor,
140 SO. FRONT ST., Philadelphia, Pa.
I p wSwi II
I I
• i 1
i
' f rfl
id
K' 1 - ■ - -
For easy ii-onitig us© “ K’<'ctr’c Y-untra*
?S Starch. It. is all prepared tor Immediate
ts tt-e in One Found Unc kajrcN. which
jf go tts far as two pounds cf uuy other Starch,
g Ask your Grocer for it.
| Tie Eleclric Lustre Starch Co.
204 Franklin St., New York.
ESCIfE NIGH BENTS IND THE GOST OF
HEATING A BOOM BY USING
the ■sp
ross Table Bed.
Ten Styles, from §l3 to |3O.
l OPEN—FvII bed C ft. 2 in. lon®,
FULL BED
SINGLE BED
CHILD’S
ASK YOUR FURNI-
TURE DEALER >
> FOR IT. ■’
CLOSED-With ft n lulling inriiia,
FOREST GITY FURNITURE Gd,
WHOLESALE FUBNITCRE MANTTrACTHBEM.
Rockford, 111.
AV|BY
SWIFT
C W||k® SURE
simple
X HTW SILENT jKlii
ill STRoNG f^ffl i ii
New Improved high arm,new mechanic*!princi
pled and rotary movement, automatic, direct and
perfect action .cylinder
positive feed, bo eprings, few parts, minimum
weight, no friction, no noise, no wear, no fatigue,
~.0 “ tanrruma,” capacity unlimited, always in or
der. rich:.? ornamented, nickel-plated, and gives
jx-rfect estisfacUou. Send for circulars. Address,
AVERY MACHINE CO.
9 812 Brodway, New York.
THE Jtl J2IILS IMPROVED JU9W LAW
Cotton Seed Planter and Guano Distributor.
ThisPlanterhaMakcamore ...
premiums than ar.y j- ‘ : U
ever invented. Morecftbeui • trZ\
are in use and sold every sea* && <A jS
son 1 haix all <*htr makes com- ~ 5'
i’iiifd. This ’.:1.-.;:L 39 has -
■ ' ,r ■••'■•'■■ '■•■ l ■ ■’ra*’•' 2' 'Jn”j
'■>'i n ar<'"'’’s < :' ;Le ><.■■•,
:-r i....ny v •* rs ’ c !: ' : 1 "t?:• --i- laEaF”
i<; j -pui rity. )IC .; i;' '■
■•: k.itisfoctiou t> tho
planter. ~ 1 > * 1 11 WW JlLUiUfer
We Lave just ? ateute.l an r ttachment for this planter for drilling corn, peas, or
nny o?her se l which can }»„• drille I, which makes a combined seed planter which
we guarantee to Im superior to anything ever put up jtf the market. Prices very
io*. For inioimition and n ices, ad Iress, * * e
E. F AVER? & PONS. Jtonisvflle. Sv.
•CH BCACO
COTTAGE
©RCA IM
i lias attaiu&! a standard of cxCeilrince wh. h
1 . knits ol no f aperior.
-Mxxntau)r» ’-’vciy improvement that invent i / _
l (jcuiiufl, skill tuid money cun produce.
' jf&l A
| vtc»v*x*caraa=3 LgTg 11 Mir 11 11 Ir llirr
OUT. ® ■ every
!•ORGAN
W AR-
IS ZtANTHD
s ’° ii
ZXOHb. YEARS.
— —
j These Oiwns are celebrated for volume,
I quality of tone, quick rieSpnnse, aitistie design,
iMniuty in finish, perfect construction, riaking
I the.n the most desirable organs tor homes,
I schools, churches, lodges, societies, etc.
ESTABLISHED REPUTATION.
VNEQUALED FACILITIES,
SKILLED WORKMEN.
BEST ISATEEUAL,
COMBINED, MAKE THIS
j THE POPULAR ORGAN
Instruction Books and Plano Stock.
J iialogces and Price Lists, on application, r'liny.-
CHICAGO COTTAGE 08GAH GO.
■er. Randolph and Ann Sts., CHICAGO, H-
The above Orgin is represented in
. Douglas County by Ch as. O. Peavy,
I who will sell von any kind ot organ
; you want, CHEAP! \_
i
I A PSEPER BREECH
LOADING
cus ‘
ThsMOSTGUN for the least mosey
ever offered to the public.
For sale by all first-class stun
Z*t Wholesale only by- (send for
SSKOVErtime, DALY & GALM
81 & SJ Chambers St., New YorlW ';
, WoV/nr.tC , ■: > ’'oie Otnto *J
• Th© Personal History ©f«'‘
U. s. Bum
i uS 1
'WH jaWel -j J
?xc
she book embraces th© General’s entire military,
' ivll service, and private career, and lg the most
complete and reliable history of him extant, A largq. -
handsome octavo volume of 680 pages, superbMllw,-
trated with 38 fnll page engravings, on woOT Mad
THBrass!’’'*'’’'
“Amonp ail the Ikes 0“ Grant this slantjs
foiemost.—HAßTFSjrt,
Whoa* ivubt the best hie of Grant puWhed,”
~<JOSTOh COffOBiexTIOUALtBT. .
I ”As fine and correct a biography as jyver can be
written.”—N. Y. Tbibvxb. ’■
•• Th© moat correct and complete record of Gen.
, Grant published.”—Chvkch UmI0».
I “It covers the entire career of the great soldier.”
—llbbaud.
1 T MT AGENTS WANTED.
In every town there are numbers of people wno
will bb glad to get Tins book. It sells to Mer
chants, Mechanics, Farmers, and th© .
VETERAN SOLDIERS OF THE LATE WAR.
Thus every Agent can pick ovt fifty ob mobs is
a towh to whom he can feel sure of selling It to.
tWAirr pebboK with this book can become a svo-
CKB6FVI. Agent. Wo give full Instructions to new
beginners. Many of our Agents who never can
vassed before are earning from $25 to SBO per week.
Wo want one Agent in every Grand Army Postand
xu every township. Bend for full particulars and
SPECIAL TERMS TO AGENTS, or secure territory
* at once by sending 80 cts. for outfit. [Mention this
Baper.l Addr>s’.
I. A. WINTER & HATCH. Hartford, Lt.
I L ILLv I
5o Cabbing! !h Backache! Ro Sere Fhgen! *
IFiirranlfii not to Injure the Clothti.
Ask your Gsoccr tor It. Ji )«* cannotetrp.
ply yon, ouc rake « , til b« mailed fuse on receipt
of six two rest stamps for o'«eigo. A beautiful
Bine-colored •‘Chrwrno” '.vitb three bare. Deal
er. and Grocers sficcld write for particulars.
C. A. SHOUDY & SON,
ROCZf-OXID. ’