Decatur Democrat, Volume 42, Number 4, Decatur, Adams County, 7 April 1898 — Page 6

The INFLUENCE of the Mother shapes the coutse of unborn generations—goes sounding through all the ages and enters the confines of Eternity. With what care, therefore, should the Expectant Mother be guarded, and how great the effort be to ward off danger and make her life joyous and happy. MOTHER’S FRIEND /apgVy allays all ' Nervous- ~ ncss - rc " l‘ eveS t^lC Headache jiW Cramps, T - uh an d Na usea, and so fully prei - pares the system that Childbirth is made easy and the time of recovery shortened —many say “stronger after than before confinement.’’ It insures safety to life of both mother and child. All who have used “ Mother's Friend ” say they will never be without it again. No other remedy robs confinement of its pain U A cnstomer whose wife used ‘Mother’s Friend.’ says that if she had to go through the ordeal again, and there were but four bottles to t>e obtained, and the cost was SIOO.OO per bottle, he would have them."’ Geo. Layton, Dayton, Ohio Sent by express, on receipt of price, JI.OO PER BOTTLE. Book to ’ EXPECTANT MOTHERS’’ mailed free upon application, containing valuable information and voluntary testimonials. The BRADFIELD REGULATOR CO., Atlanta,GaSOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS.

C(EUR D’ALENE. BY HARY HALLOCK FOOTE. (Copyright, 1894, by Mary Hallock Foote.] ‘“Do you think,’ says she, confiden-tial-like, ‘that if thelboys did want him they couldn’t get him?’ •’ ’Well,’ says I, ‘him an’ me is workin’ pardners; whin they want him they can have Alike, too. We goes by pairs, like the cap and the fuse; if ye meddle wid wan, ye’ll likely hear from the other.’ ‘‘Thin she laughed. ‘Do you go sparkin' in pairs?’says she. ‘Fori think the lady business is not in wid the two av yez.’ ” “Mike, what are you giving me now?” said Darcie, sternly. * “It’s God’s trut’ I’m givin’ ye, in the very words av her mouth—and maybe there was a kiss or two t’rown in, but that’s not for me to mintion. I brung the word straight as she gev it me.” ■ “What is the word? Who does it come from?” “It comes from the parlor at the Big Horn by the way- av the kitchen, which is not always the safest way, thinks I, but that’s no business av mine. And whin I chaffed her about the ‘lady,’ she answered me plain, lookin' me in the eye. “‘You’d betther not be monkeyin' wid this message,’ says she, ‘there’s more in it than you know. And if he thinks we’re puttin’ up a game on him, tell him this: The word is (torn her he called the Mountain Lily.’ ” “Alike,” said Darcie, flushing, "I don't know what to make of this. Are you all right, old man —honor bright? How many friends did you meet down at Pegleg’s saloon?” “I’m as straight as a string,” Alike asseverated, “Ye know well enough I itUve no truck wid any o’ that crowd. Faith, 'twould be as much as my life is worth to be seen in town wid a jag on. By the cross —and 1 niver take me oath on that but I’m tellin’ the trut’ — I'm givin’ ye the very words; and where she got thim how should I know? Mabby you know yourself who’s your lily?” “Where did you say I was to meet lier?” “In a quare place entirely, yet not so onhandy to the mine. On the fringe o’ the tamaracks, up the gulch, where ye niver will meet wid a soul, passin’ up or down; and by token, there’s a big, lone cedar standin’ in a bit av a clearin’. If ye go there to pluck lilies, I’m wid ye, Darcie dear.” “Go along with your blarney! When did she say I was to be there?” “The hour is the quarest av all; be’ chune half afther tin and eliven o’clock next Chuesday night. ‘An unwholesome hour.’ says I, ‘and a great wish she must have for him, to be pacin’ the woods at that hour!’ “ ‘Hut!’ says she, ‘don’t you be scared. It’ll all be proper, for she'll have me wid her.’ “Thin I’ll be tlhere, darlin',’ says I 'You may bet on me. But me own notion av that meetin’ is that we’ll shmel' powdher before we'll get so much as a scent av the lily.’ And she tossed hei “ ‘l’ll tell the lady he’s afraid to conn widout little Alike to purtect him.’ “‘I dunno fwhat he'll be,’ says I, ‘nor where he'll be next Chuesday night; but where he is, little Alike will be. And don’t fail me,’ says I, ‘for the joys av life is fadin’ on me.’ ” “Mike, you've ruined me! It's like your blazing impudence to answer my messages for me. Y’ou will go straight back to your girl, whoever she is, and get another kiss, and tell her I’ll be there if I’m alive and can get there; and you will not be with me!” “I wouldn’t put me fut on that road again to-night for the kiss av peace in Paradise,” Alike drawled. “Then I must go myself. Are you sick? Are you afraid? What’s the matter with you?” shouted Darcie. “I'm thinkin’ what size boots the Mountain Lily weans. I bet she wears thirteens, and the print av her fut is

i studded wid nails.” V. A CUP OF TEA. Mr. Frederick Bingham, of the Big I Horn mine, was the detrimental member of an old New York family, far too | proud and united to be willing to own to the world that it had failed in the I person of its eldest son. Therefore his I brothers, sagacious, responsible men, and conscientious, for the most part, in the use of their name, had never questioned but it was their right to use it for Fred —to repair his mistakes, and cover up his failures, and procure him another chance; and for years, with constant devotion to the private before the public obligation, to sentiment before principle, they had saddled the family problem, in the person of their •’ ‘ls this Mike McGowan?’ says she.” unremunerative brother, upon one hopeful young enterprise after another of the broad and charitable west. His little daughter’s letters followed him, from this remote mining camp, or . cattle station, to the next one, inclosed : in long, iluent, circumstantial epistles | from her aunts, explaining and apolo- i gizing concerning matters relating to ■ the child to which he had never given : a thought, or had forgotten all about. I These he glanced over and smiled at, and often did not trouble himself to ; read. After a time his brothers were I informed, in dignified phrases, that he had “resigned” from the disappointing affairs of the new scheme which he had last had in charge, and he presently returned, and was on their hands once more; a little older and fatter, a little harder in the expression and looser in the structure of the face, and a trifle less sure of himself in the company' to which he was bred; and his | sisters winced and blushed at his free i comments upon themselves, the life of the home and of the east, as it appeared to him after an interval of absence; and his mother wistfully took note of her boy’s gray hairs and his old, tired, unspiritual appearance, but would not discuss him or hear him criticised; and his brothers pointedly requested him to pay a visit to their tailor, and they sometimes forgot to mention to mutual dinner-giving friends that Fred was in town. Yet they thought he might be presentable enough, according to western standards. He had, at his best, a good manner, a trifle out of date, to be sure; he had the indurate remains of ■ an expensive education; he drank too much, undoubtedly, though that was notan exceptional failing with the men of their set. l&ey did not conceive the ' manner of his drinking when he was at his lonely posts of unwatched responsibility; how he drank alone, and continued idiotically replenishing, in solitary' boredom; how he drank with his inferiors lest they should think him proud, and with his subordinates, of I course, because at an isolated mine the ] manager’s ‘‘Loys" are his sole companions and sometimes better-bred men than himself; nor the perilous, stuff that a man drinks, at those altitudes, who is careless of himself. These things the mother’s heart divined, shrinkingly, without a question or a fact. But the prosperous eastern brothers, sensible of the continental scope and importance of their own affairs, thought that a second-rate man might do well enough for such places as they sought for Fred. It could not be expected that first-class men would be willing to exile themselves to holes and corners of the earth, at any price. So the good name, and the good manner that was not quite up to date, and the 1 family influence, were in requisition once more to cover up the inner facts of Fred’s latest failure (what the facts were his brothers hardly- knew, and they had not been very particular in their inquiries), and he was passed on, like a counterfeit coin, to his next op- i portunity, at some other person’s expense. Os late years friends of the family had hesitated to ask: “What is Fred doing now?” He changed his occupation so often—or it seemedioften to persons who thought of him only once in three or four years; and: they said to one another: “What a mercy that he has never married again!” and they bethought theip that they must “do something” for that pretty creature, his daughter, and perhaps were a trifle relieved, on casting up her years, to remember that she could not be more than a schoolgirl, and there was plenty of time. And her aunts were such verysensible women—no doubt they were bringing her up to a fit sense of what her father’s daughter might have to look forward to; which they were not doing at all, but were petting her, and making as much ado over the child as if all thegood fairieshadmet at herchristening. They were not even attempting to revise her innocent impressions of a parent known to her chiefly through his munificence in gifts and pocketmoney. Her aunts never toldiher of the carelessness that went with the munificence; of the lapses, when there were no remittances even for shoes and school-bills; nor how often their own private means had been drawn upon, to

spare the little inheritance that they held in trust, from their sister to her child. This money, they were resolved, should not be touched, neither principal nor interest, while they were its custodians; and in this way alone they showed their prudence. For why should she need to know, poor child., what the world said of her father? They themselves dad not pretend to know or to judge him, but always, for the sake of their sister who had known him and had been silent to the last, they too were lilent. What the child’s own mother would never have told her, they believed that they-, who stood in the mother’s place, had no right to tell her. When at last they were startled by their brother-in-law's unexpected demand: that his daughter should follow him into the far west, they knew not what to say. They had no objections that they could dare to offer now, and they- had no rights in the child herself, that they could set against the right of a father; and Faith, as any be, was wild to go. They watched and prayed, feeling as if some unhallowed bargain, transacted long ago, in which an. unconscious life was the innocent forfeit, had been fatally foreclosed. And they- had made no effort to prepare the girl for whatever surprises, or shocks, or ordeals, this foreclosure involved. They could not have said just what it was that they feared —simply they did not trust the man, her father, and they greatly feared the life to which he was taking her. But they never questioned that she must go. Those gentle, unassertive, maiden mothers who, with more than maternal unselfishness, had •fulfilled every duty and made every sacrifice for their sister's child, yielded: her up to the natural tie, and every one said-that it was welt done. A few outspoken old gentlemen who had no daughters of their own. and one or two defrauded young ones, declared it was a shame; but the wives and mothers generally- said that it was the right place for Faith; all the more if, as was hinted, her father was not in all respects just what he should be. So, with no more preparation for the experience before her than girlshave who go to the altar with men they are expected to reform, Faith had journeyed blithely westward, to cast in her life, in the somber solitude of the Big Horn, with that of the dull, hard, careless, coarse old man on whom her instinct had conferred every grace and dignity of fatherhood. And now, with her first trouble, her woman's defensive strength of silence came to her, and her letters to her aunts were models of pious deception. To one person only had she uttered a word of all her heart’s shame and indignation, and that one, as she remembered with a burning face, had been all too ready to listen. At the Big Horn mine on Tuesday night, there were indications that- the manager was expecting guests to dinner. He had put on hissenatorial black frock suit, a white stiff shirt, and a light tie, with a large diamond sparkling on the full-blown folds of silk. Faith was reluctantly lovely in the most reserved of her simple, dainty dinner dresses. Her simplicity annoyed her father. He would have had her come before him like Esther before the king. The table was set for six persons, and there were three wine glasses at each plate. There were no flowers, nor any little feminine touches about the rooms, to show that the fair daughter of the house had taken either pride or pleasure in preparing for her father's guests; nor was there in her face any of the brightness of happy expectancy. Mr. Bingham was reading in the library off the dining-room, when Faith entered by the curtain-draped door, which half revealed the table, aglow with candles and gleaming with glass and silver. The manager was a luxurious provider; he loved that his household should fare sumptuously and dress bravely, and he was not behind in setting a prosperous example. “Father, may I speak to you about something?” Mr. Bingham turned to his daughter with a slightly forced look of amiable interest. "Certainly, my dear. Nothing unpleasant, I hope.” “Oh, yes: it is unpleasant. It is about Abby. I wish you would tell me what she did do before I came. I can never ask her to do a thing but she is perfectly amazed. She says she never waited on tables when you gave dinners — never! ” “Oh, yes, she did, but —a —you needn’t say I said so. She makes a distinction in her own mind, very likely, between waiting on men—who are supposed to be helpless creatures, anyway—and waiting when a lady sits at table and gives orders. You haven’t struck her right, that’s all.” “Why, father, I cannot speak to her! I positively cringe to her, now. She has the most extraordinary manners! If I meet her she never steps aside; she pushes ahead, and I simply retire to avoid a collision. She goes out and in at the front door, and sits on the. front porch; she doesn’t think of rising if I happen to come out—she doesn’t see me. She answers the (bell or not, as she pleases. I have opened the door, myself, to men who have asked if ‘Miss Steers’ was in, evidently expecting that I should call her; which I did! I thought it a joke at first —on the country and the way we live. But it’s getting past a joke. To-night, with four men to dinner, I took it for granted that she proposed to make herself useful. I didn’t, ask her to wait on table; I thought it safer to assume that she would condescend that much. But I gave her a few hints which she certainly needed. —I was as pleasant and as careful as I could be —and she flew up in a perfect rage. I was obliged to leave the. room. “Now, what are we to do? Y’ou kn»w what a scramble it is when Wan has to come in; he has all he can possibly do with his dinner. I would wait on table myself, but, father, for your sake, I cannot do such things with Abby in the house. Send her away, and I will do her work—l almost do it now—but 1

cannot do it. for your own sake, father, AM..-.™*' pose 1 want my daughter to do the work of the house?" ‘•Your daughter does, a good deal of it I don’t know whose work ’ ... .. 1.- I'“' » “S one day about something that right in my bedroom; since then she has never entered the room. Ido myself, or I did, until Wan saw me, and ‘took the work out of my hands. What did. Abby do. before I came . "Well, she pretty much ran the. house, that is a fait, and I was too lazy j to keep her in order. I'm too .azy to discharge her now. "They are all pretty much of a muchness," Mr. Bingham expatiated, uncomfortably. “They all make a point, the American ones, of sitting at mea s with you, or being asked to. If you bad thought to ask Abby to sit down with you to luncheon, sometimes, when you were alone, that would have mode it all right. Now she thinks you set yourself above her, which the more you are the less she'll acknowledge it, of course. She’s on her ear, now, about some trifle. I suspect you are a bit too particular about trifles. Young housekeepers are apt to be. I know she slams around the house as if she d been brought up in a boiler-shop, but she has her good points. You’ll get used to her.” “There seems to be no question cf her getting used to me,” said laitli, with rising temper. “If she makes any distinction at all between us, it s entirely in favor of herself. And, father, I'm ashamed to have such a looking woman about the house, so frightfully dressed, and so made up. Mhy, she doesn’t look respectable!” [TO BB CONTINUED.] ‘I Was Weak, Nervous and Run Down.” 1 want to testify to the good Brown’s Cure lias done me. I was weak, nervous and run down in vitality when I commenced taking it; it has done everything for me and I am now a new lieing. A number of my friends also speak with gratitude of the good your medicine has done them—it is indeed a grand remedy. Yours Gratefully, Mrs. L. V. Criig, 907 Mass. Ave., Indianapolis, Ind. Such is the testimony of thousands concerning Brown’s Cure, a Perfect Family medicine, the best remedy known for the liver, kidneys and bow els, a positive cure for dyspepsia and all bowel troubles, sick headache, nervousness, constipation and loss of sleep. If you suffer try this great remedy and find health and happiness. Sold by Page Blackburn. Price 75 cents. Yi-Ki cures coms and warts 15c. Educate Tour Bowels With CascareU. Candy Cathartic, cure constipation forever 10c. 25r If C. C. C fail, druesrists refund money Will History Repeat Itself? The safety drove the apparently permanently established ordinary out of sight within a single year. Is it possible to imagine a similar fate for the presen* pattern? Verily, it seems impossible.—American Cyclist.

boritJnvite • Sickness

Which is better, to thoroughly cleanse and purify the blood just now, or make yourself liable to the many dangerous ailments which are so prevalent during summer? Impurities have been accumulating in the blood all winter, and right now is the time to get rid of them. A thorough course of Swift’s Specific is needed to cleanse the blood and purify the system, toning up and strengthening it all over. Those who take this precaution now are comparatively safe all summer; but to neglect it is to invite some form of sickness which is so common during the trying hot season. It is now that a course of Swift’s Specific S.S.S. r Th.Blood will accomplish so much toward rendering the system capable of resisting tho evil influences which are so liable to attack it during the summer when sickness is so abundant. It is the best tonic and system-builder on the market, because it is a real blood remedy and is made solely to search out and remove all impurities, and supply an abundance of pure, rich and red blood. S. S. S. is made exclusively of roots and herbs, and is Nature’s own remedy. It is purely vegetable, and is the only blood remedy guaranteed to contain no potash, mercury or other mineral. Be sure to get S. S. S. There is nothing half as good.

Purify the Blood

Young Girls Fading Away. Symptoms that seem like consumption; a lack o f blood; friends feared one girl would Jail dead on the street; restored to health by a sensible woman's

suggestion. _____ M, nv girls of sixteen years seem to have consumption, although they have it n °Their anxious parents and friends watch them slowly fade away. A death-like pallor, transparent complexion and listlessness are Signs of this condition. , The body lacks blood. Mrs. John Tansey knows the meaning of these symptoms, and the cure. She lives at 130 Baker Street, Detroit, advice to mothers has been of great value to her neighbors. She tells the story to help others who are at a distance. She said: , “ Wher my daughter was sateen years old she began to waste away. “Had 1 not known there was no taint of consumption in the family I would have believed her lungs were affected. “ She grew thinner and thinner every day. She lacked only the hacking cough to show all the outward signs of consumption. “Our doctor called the disease by an odd name, which I learned meant simply weak “ No treatment seemed to do her any good. “She was fading away before our eyes. “1 was induced to try Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People, and the change they made was almost magical. "Before she had taken half a box there was a great improvement in her looks, appetite and weight.

IMPLEMENTS Tnela: -est> li:.e of farm nuu-lauwy manufactured by a. . . igle v. i rnintlcwor < I ibrace- Osborne Columbia Hors? Hoe and Cultivators, ' Adjustable Peg-Tooth Harrows, Sulky Spring-Tooth Harrows, I s Osborne Combination Harrows, Spring-Tooth Harrows, \ f Columbia Flexible & Reversible Disc Harrows, Rival Disc Harrows, ) I Columbia Inclined Corn Harvester & Binder, Ail-Steel Tedders, i \ Columbia Mower, (1 & 2-horse) AH-Steei Seif Dump Rakes, I # Columbia Grain Harvester and Binder, AH-Steei Hand Dump Rakes, ’ I Columbia Reaper, Ever;' machine is fully warranted and Is (he beat >f Its class that ' ) Un n c e can be produced with material, < nm;il-'. , patent,«u. / no. a tP-ape. , cc. pprior skin nnd )ona pxppr)pn ,. p A i The Gut shown here is that of our oseorue T M COLUMBIA HORSE HOE AMD CULTIVATOR, 1k which, takenas a whole is ono* f perfett /.irm i;npleJ Ift tuentu tnade. It is an ideal implement for cultivating all kinds of / kook InL hoed crops. We make it in five patterns, each with 5b < th. \>.l ba / f Q/ , \ simple cultivator with hand s<-rew adjustment < f th-- spreading fl nus \ device. No. 2is the same aa No. 1 but has front wh« «I. No. o has U Ari \ VwßfijJwX. n-» wheel but has lev.-r spreading na ‘ j-i- 1 lever for spreading shovels, and No. 5, (see cut 1 ‘- l»oth wheel ■3% an( l spreading device with levers for n-j ilating both. weetf. I.ntll wma They are ail istabli-b:any r I Uo p f au -Y unt,l y°U width of r A Ma,i-entin- I / 1 > |a> rv hswe »een cur of nialhable iron and I It -A Wfc, focal Agent. steel except the handles. I •_^ r lstw PifTerent kinds of shovels for diff-nn indo.f work. 1 Handy fJoofc on >’«»*»»» and FFFF. 1 - 0. M. OSBOREE A CO., CHICAGO. UAL 1 Ellsworth, Myers A Company, Local Agents. Decatur. Ind. f IF' k , LVAMT ’ is To buy a paint that has stood 1 the test for TWENTY-FIVE j YEARS, then buy J THE SHAKER PAINT Sold by Stengel & Giaig, i : Bertie? Indiana- : 1 With purchases of $5, $lO, sls, S2O, $25 and S3O, a large picture complete with frame is given our customers. Both picture and frame are handsome in design and can be appreciated by everybody. We are still selling dry goods, notions, carpets, lace curtains, queensware and groceries at the lowest market price. JACOB FULLENMMI Mrs. Bremerkamp’s Old Stand.

“She gained strength rapidly ■was in perfect health. 7 ‘ “Since then 1 have kept D, »•„. Pink Pills for Pale People m thi wavs and have done much pood “One example: g W ’ h «X®. “There is a young gi,[ friend o[ „ daughter who seemed almost tranl? She was white and very thin. afraid she would fall dead ta tb when she went out. “1 begged het to take Dr. , Pills for Pale People, and finM* her to try them. They heltvH derfully, probably saved heAh stored her to perfect health. recommending them to other young I earnestly advise mothers wituS’ ing daughters to keep Dr. WilhantfTi Pills always on hand as a household renj Many women’s lives are miserabfeL' cause such symptoms as Mrs. Tw, daughter showed were neglected while|U were developing into womanhood. DuJ that period of rapid development the bS needs the highest degree of strength tot pair the tissues that are rapidly wasted. These needed elements are suctliriu Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale Peopb The vegetable ingredients of these riE like magic in restoring strength to the am. des and roses to the cheeks of growiMSdi or adults weakened by overwork. AU druggists sell Dr. Williams’ Pinkie for Pale People. They cost 50 cents a box; six boxes $2.50.