Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 February 1892 — Page 4 Advertisements Column 2 [ADVERTISEMENT]

outlook for celebrities, or chasing the almighty dollar to its lair in the lecture bureau, suggests that the pseudo-American explorer is snapp ng and snarling at the heels of a great man. New South Wales is fortunate in the possession of a jurist who for a clear insight into the principles of justice out-Daniels Daniel. The biographical encyclopedia dodge for making money out of the vanity of men is as popular in that antipodean region as it is here. Into the court of this worthy judge came the publisher of “Australian Men of Mark,” suing a subscriber. The defendant pleaded that he had subscribed for the work on the representation that it would contain his bigraphy, but found it did not and refused to accept it. The judge, however, took a comprehensive view of the case and ruled all contracts for the work void on the ground that its title “Men of Mark” was a humbug and a fraud, as the biographies were those of nonentities willing to pay the price. Carried to its logical conclusion that decision would make life miserable for theatrical managers who advertise competent actors and clever comedies.

While the horrible and criminal railroad slaughters of late are receiving such universal condemnation, there is another matter directly connected which should be denounced, and for which prompt remedy should be provided. Immediately after the disastrous rear collision at Hastings, word that it had occurred flashed over the country, and thousands, whose relatives were imperiled in the accident, were eager to learn the fate of their loved one. Many of those who came out of the wreck alive hastened at once to telegraph assurance of their safety to those so anxiously awaiting it. But the operator at Hastings would receive no such telegrams. He coolly and unfeelingly refused them, saying that it was "in accordance with orders from headquarters. Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, were at home stricken with fear, and enduring the agony of terrible suspense, but no word of comfort could be sent them. The railroad company had ordered otherwise. Had the wires been burdened with messages for surgeons, medicines, nurses, and oUier means of relief, there might have been some excuse for the cold-blooded order, but no such explanation is offered. When a corporation becomes thus soulless, some way should be found to force upon it a semblance of feeling.

We have been inclined to give to Dr. Leslie E. Keeley no small credit for the good he has apparently done in curing thousands of inebriates of the disease of drunkenness. It makes no difference whether his remedy is truly bi-chloride of gold or permanganate of potash; it does the work he claims for it, and thousands testify to his sincerity of purpose. But there must be something malevolent in the man’s make-up, after all. He announces that he has been highly successful in the prevention and cure of the grip, and, unlike his attitude on the jag specific, he is willing to disclose to the public the remedy he uses. But horrors! It’s assafuetida! The Doctor's prominence in the medical vyorld insures that a multitude of people will adopt his suggestion.

And Just think of the stupendous joke he will enjoy! We can all remember when, in our school days, a bag of assafoetida hung around the neck was an infallible protection against measles, scarlet fever, whooping cough, diphtheria, chicken pox, or whatever else may have been prevalent. It surely was a protection, for no one with the olfactory-paralyz-ing odor was allowed to get within gun-shot distance of anybody else, sick or well, unless the second party, taking advantage of the similibi similibus curanter idea, was also fortified by the magic bag. And now Dr. Keeley proposes that four grains of the unspeakably stinking stuff should be taken four times a day, by any one who either fears or experiences the grip. And hundreds will do it. So whenever you meet a man who smells like a combination of bi-sulphide of carbon, glue factory, and the modern society girl, you may know that Keeley, the ejorciser of the drink demon, has scored another victim. After all, we shouldn’t wonder if it was along-headed scheme on his part. He may have pretty thoroughly exhausted the supply of inebriates, and be alarmed at the prospect of empty infirmaries. And if he can induce a part of sober mankind to adopt his cure for the grip, there is certainly nothing that would drive the balance to drink any more quickly or persistently.