Ligonier Banner., Volume 24, Number 13, Ligonier, Noble County, 11 July 1889 — Page 3

. o Tle Ligonier Sanner, LIGONIER, : : INDIANA. -———_m ——-——————————————-———‘—q———— NEIGHBORS., ' Your name is Hglen: are you dark or fair? Deep blue vour eyes, or black as shadows are That lie in woods at midnight? Tell me, sweet, ‘What form you wear—large, medium, or petite? I never saw you, nor you me, I ween, L And yet our verses on the self-same sheet . " Are printed in the last new magazine.. I fain would know, fair neighbor, if your song * -Came from the woodlands, or the city’s throng From mountain fastness, or beside the sea? * - Breathed it in chambered solitude, or free As birds on wing, amidst some sylvan scene? I pray you grow acquaint, and let us be 5 Neighbors in thought us in the magazine, Somay I ask if you are déeply blue ' ) (As to the hose, T mean), or just a true, Bright little woman—nothing Bostonese—‘Whose song is sung without a thought to please Aught but the singer? May Iread between | ‘The lines, and ask such things as these, L Hoping they’ll print them in the magazine? Did hope deferred—that is the weary time, Betwi .t acceptance and the printed rhyme— Make your sweet heart, like my old battered | soul, ¢ Endure long agonies, and curse the whole Confounded tribe of editors whose keen, "~ ©ool, business sense would not once enroll Our burning thoughts in their next magazine? And did you anxiously each month e'er track, From leading articles to Bric-a-Brac, ; Each page, lest haply they had hid your verse Between some dreary kind of prose?—or, worse, . Lopped off a line to pad a page, and then Misspelt your name, the tender poet’s curse? Alas, for poets in a magazine! : ¢ / b ’ I question idly. Chance, and chance alone, Upon one page my verse and yours has thrown. But, let me whisper e’er I drop my pen, I am the steadiest of all married men, And write these lines—oh, may they yet be seen By your bright eyes !—in hopes they’ll bring me ten : Or twenty dollars from some magazine. —R. T. W. Duke, Jr., in Century. —— ] s ; ; AN AWFUL PLACE.

That's What Mr. Rufus Thinks of

New York City.

It was not very often that Mr. Rufus gave himself a holiday; his business demanded his time; and he was a very devoted. family: man. But the time came, as it does to most over-busy men, when the family doctor looked solemn, and said to Mr. Rufus: ,

“My dear friend, you must take a little rest—you really must. A holiday will do you all the good in the world.”” “What shall Ido with a holiday?” replied Mr. Rufus. :

“Go dewn to the city and enjoy yourself for a week; see the sights, and have a Turkish bath or two, and you'll come back another man,”’ said the doctor. “I don’t want to have you on my hands; Mrs., Rufus doesn’t want to nurse you—l tell you that.” g Every body liked the doctor for his affable manners, and his pleasant way of talking. Mrs. Rufus smiled and shook her head; Mr. Rufus laughed and promised to take his holiday. “I suppose I ought to rest myself,” he said; “and I'll take a fortnight. Cousin Barker can go into the offlce while I'm gone.” . ; “] shall be unhappy while you are gone,” said Mrs. Rufus. . “I shall miss you, and I do wish it was so that I could go, too; but I'm very well. Have a real good time, Job, and don’t hurry ‘home; and' promise me you'll take the Turkish baths right away.” For several days the whole family, servants included, werebusy, doing up linen, ironing silk cravats, seeing to buttons, packing a trunk and a portmanteau, seeing that Mr. Rufus had pins on a pin-cushion, plenty of cologne for his handkerchief, his night-caps and his little prayer-book. Had he been going to a desert island he could not have been more carefully provided with. every thing; and although Mr. Rufus was a wealthy man, well up in the topics of the day, and not past his prime, it was now fifteen years since he had left his native town. Sy . At last the hour came. Wife and children went with him to the depot. He jumped into the train, and flew away. There wasa sense of adventure and freedom about this sort of thing, to be sure; but as the platform receded into the distance, and the well-known forms of his family became so many small blurs, he put his ecru silk kerchief to his eyes, and felt desolate. ’ “However, I'm going for their sake,” said to himself. *I don’t want to break down at fifty, as so many men do.” Then he got up and went into the smoking-car, and there fell into a conversation with a person of dreadfully communistic views, who wanted to have all' the rich men’s property divided equally amongst the poor. The rich men to have none, ‘‘to show 'em,” the communist said, “how it felt;” and ‘was 8o completely horrified that his journey ended before he thought it half over. He was in New York, and amidst a howling band of cab-men and porters. He was dragged into a vehicle, and saw his trunk strapped on behind, and his portmanteau on the seat opposite him., :

~“Where to, sir?’’ yelled the cabman at/the door; and conscious that he was a little old-fashioned in his ideas, Mr. Rufus faltered out:

“Oh—ah—well, really, what do you consider the best hotel?”’ ~ “Sure, there's no better than the O'Dowd House, sir,”’ cried the cabman, remembering, with all the warmth of Irish friendship, a cousin who kept a .small hotel somewhere near the docks. +‘No better anywhere.”’ : © “Very well, drive me there,”’ said Mr. Rufus. ' . “I'm afraid New York is a very nasty place,”” he sighed, sniffing the odor of the garbage boxes as they drove along, * and looking out at the dingy tenement-~ houses just lighting up through the dusk. ‘““And, dear me, this isn’t what the Astor House used to be,” hesighed, a 8 he alighted, and walked up the L T dingy girl was washing up 4 very - shabby hall oil-cloth, and the tablecloths o the little tables inthe dining- . enteted the mipd of Mr, Rufus; but it 'l B St B et e s R ; @ww.wmfwa@ R S L 7:' ey o g,es,u B s;, G *w;gu-;gz,wr»m;;r H . & oppwealade oy e it e Wity

and envelopes, so carefully bestowed on top of his trunk by his wife, and left Iffhem‘on the bed. : - |“Hang it!” he said. *What a fool I was, to be sure! Waiter, have you paper and envelopes?”’ i “I'll get ye some, sur,” said the waiter, “but it's an extry.” : - “Very well,” said Mr. Rufus.

And the man ran away, and soon returned with an envelope bearing on it the name of the O’'Dowd House, and a sheet of paper on which the artist had drawn from his imagination a palatial hotel, up the steps of which thronged 1 mJ'my gorgeous guests, and over the !- door of which shone this inscription: | i THE ODOWD HOUSE, . . b ey o G B. O'DOWD. o Hastily scribbling upon the latter a statement of the fact that he had arrived, and was safe in the inn, he addressed and dispatched it, ‘took his supper, and went to bed. It was a comfortable bed enough, and he slept dike a top, and early in the morning, true to his country habits, arose with a firm determination to have a Turkish bath before breakfast. He had the direction of the baths in his pocket, and a car took him to the door. Having bought a ticket, he was introduced into the public room, and toa private dress-

‘i_n;?,‘ room, and went throu—gh his ordeal.

Afterward, as he reclined on a sofa, he came to the happy conclusion that his inner man had not escaped through the pdres of his skin, and that when he solidified again he should be himself once more. = There was only one early bather in the place, and he did not pause to rest. He was off as soon as he had put his clothes .on.

So Mr. Rufus was able to depart also. He went to the little room where he had left his garments and essayed to clothe himself, but something had happened to his garments; they were too small. Had heswollen in the bath? No. They were' not his garments. Yet he was sure of the number of his dressing-room. He rang a bell. An attendant appeared. A search was made. The polite proprietor was summoned.

- The gentleman who had just departed had evidently changed the clothes. The same key fitied both doors, and yet the garments left were not shabby. They were in fact, almost new; a short cutaway coat, a light, greenish-colored overcoat with tre.me?ndo;u buttons, trowsers of a very broad %la.id. a very sombrero of a soft hat, all at least two sizes too small for Mr. Rufus.

Ihave known abstracted gentlemen, but never one so abstracted as this gentleman must have been,’’ said the proprietor. “Probably he'll discover his mistake and returp.”

But Mr. Rufus, sitting disconsolately

in his blanket, had no such hope. He ~waited a long while and was at last informed that the ¢‘ladies hour” had come, and that all gentlemen bathers must depart; and cramming himself into the garments we have mentioned,; departed, a comical sight enough, with sleeves that left his wrists bare, and at least a quarter of a yard of ankle between cloth and shoe.

- As he descended the steps of the house, he saw on the: opposite side of the way a large sign bearing the words ' J; - CRASH & COBBLE, Aol Clothiars, ! Jp‘Tha,nk Heaven, I shan’t be obliged to go far, he sighed; and crossing the street as hastily as a man might who could not bend a joint, he entered the store. - : » j “I want some clothes,’” hesaid to the clerk who approached him. ‘‘Some ra{scal has changed mine for these in ﬂllf Turkish bath house yonder. I was obliged to wear them so far, for I'm not at home. I live out of town.”

- “Yes, sir; very annoying; very annoying,” said the clerk. ‘‘Certainly, they're not what we might call a fine fit, sir. What shall I show you, sir?”’ The best you have,”’ said Mr. Rufus. " 1’"""” . -

Here he dived into his pockets, and pulled out some keys. ] &

~ “Hang it!” he said. ¢“The rascal has taken my pocket-book! However, I'm Job Rufvus, of Rufustown. Been in business there thirty years. You'll let me have them, and I'll send you down a check; or, rather, I'll bring it in tomorrow. ‘I shall have to telegraph home at once for a. money order.” “We don’t do business that way in New York,” said the clerk, instantly growing stony and folding away the 'g?,rments_ he had taken down just then. - *See here,”’ said a voice at his ear, “come along quietly unless you,want a row. There are two more of us. I'm aimed and have handeuffs in my pocket. My name is Burke.” | “Good: heavens!” cried Mr. Rufus, retreating, ‘‘has it come to this, that highwaymen attack one openly at noonday? ' Help! some one. Heip! ﬂihieves! Murder! Help!” . . |ln an instant more a pair of hand‘cLzﬂs were on his wrists.

' The clothing clerks gathered around him. A patriarch with a flowing white beard. who would have done for Moses in a tableau, but who was really the proprietor of the place, joined the group. - ‘ “Venerable sir,” cried Mr. Rufus, “don’t see me murdered before your eyes. I'm Job Rufus, of Rufustown. I've been robbed already. Mercy! H}elpl”- : ; : ; | But\arl\ljhe patriarch did was to injq%x;le of~one of the two desperadoes: "Whats hedone? - . . .. 0 “A bank was the last thing,"”’ sald the man who had first spoken, ‘l've béon on his track & week. I'm Détéo- - ‘And Mr. Rufus was hustled into cab. He was beginning to understand k& smlopgice Tad bor iiide, S #WWho 40 Yo thinks T am? b fae L T L gnmninil replisd it geniie man.: - Anere 18n'L a suly llKe vnab in -

‘T doubt if there is, sir,” replied Mr. Rufus, quite calmly. -Shortly after, in some stronghold of the law, he discovered that he was supposed to be one Knowing Bill, of Baltimore; that Detective Burke had never seen his face, but had followed the hat and overcoat from description, and despite his wrath and the miseries of a day and night passed in durance vile, it was a joy to him when at last he heard a portly, white-haired gentleman remark: :

- “Detective Burke, you are an idiot. Couldn’t you see that this gentleman'’s story was true? Knowing Bill has changed clothes with him in the bathrooms, and so eluded you. Why, the fellow is twenty-eight, as dark as an Indian, and half this gentleman’s age. Very sorry, Mr. Rufus, that this has occurred.” :

Poor Mr. Rufus! he uttered a furious phillipic, and afterward pinned together the garments which the action of his strong knees and elbows had already ripped, and hurried down stairs. To return to his hotel and telegraph for money from home was his only course. He could not take a cab. Cabmen must be paid, and—— < ‘“Lord help me!” said Mr. Rufus. “I've forgotten where I stop.” Indeed, after standing on the curbstone for half an hour, he found that the name of his hotel was utterly gone. He had never noticed in what street it was located, and only that it had an Irish name. S

The O'Gorman, the McManus, the O’Brien—what,‘was it? Alas! it was gone. | :

“I'm gging mad,” thought poor Mr. Rufus. “I'd better go home and be locked up there.”

And as he knew the way tothe depot he hurried up Broadway, the pins in his knees' flying out at every moment a xhibiting the red flannel beneath, his big\sombrero shading his eyes, his tight little overcoat bursting up his back.” Who would have recognizedMr/Job Rufus, of Rufustown, as he hurried into the depot? © “tWell?"’ said the ticket clerk, peeping jout at the remarkabple figure that stood before his window. “I'm sob Rufus, of Rufus Brothers, Rufustown,” replied Mr. Rufus. ¢l've been robbed. liwant a ticket down there. I'll pay at the other end.”

‘“You will, eh?” asked the clerk. “‘Get it at the other end, then.” “But, sir—"’ exclaimed Mr. Rufus. The window went shut in his face. Mr. Rufus clasped his head with both hands. = What should he do? He went to the door and stood there for a moment. Suddenly his eye rested on a sign opposite: RUFUS & CO., Agents. : A wild hope urged him. He rushed across the street, and bolted into the office. Two very ill-tempered looking gentlemen looked up from newspapers, and inquired his business with their eyes. « ; ‘““Your name is Rufus, sir?”’ said Job. One of the men nodded. *“A Rufus of Rufustown?”’ inquired Job. s ¢ =

“_No,"’ replied the gentleman.

‘I thought I might perhaps discover g cousin,” faltered the hapless Job. “So many of our family have settled in New York. I'm Job Rufus, of Rufustown; and although I feel greatly embarrassed, I will tell you my dilemma; I came .down yesterday. I—l've been robbed—all my clothes taken, and these left. I want to get back home, and if you'll lend me the price of a ticket I'll return it at once, and be greatly obliged also—greatly—and if I can ever do any thing for you at Rufus-towhß=-c

‘‘Look here, my friend,” replied the man addressed; ‘“‘when 1 was young and fresh confidence men often took me in. They can’t do it now. You tell too old a story. I have sworn to have the next fellow of the sort arrested, ‘but you may go, if you'll go at once. You're an old man, and you look as if you had been a decent fellow once. There's the door.” *“A confidencer man!—l?” roared Rufus. ‘Lord forgive you! Lord forgive you! There’s nofellow-feeling left in the world!” > ; : He staggered out of the office, weak with hunger and crushed with mortification. - ~ , : “Could he walk to Rufustown?’’ he asked himself. ‘‘Could he beg a ride on the baggage cars?’ He went back into the depot and sat down; he felt nearer home there.

A train was coming in; people hurried by; he watched them dreamily, A boy was crying the papers for sale: *‘Mys-te-rious dis-appearance of a gentleman!” - “0, dear! O, dear!”’ sobbed a voice near him, ‘*he means your pa!”’ }

Mr. Rufus started up. A youth of fourteen, whom he recognized as his second son, was passing behind him, supporting on his arm a lady, whom he knew at'once to be his wife.” “Emma Jane!” he roared, ‘“Emma Jane and Washington!”

O, how that lgoo'r little woman clung to him; how sh® sobbed. - :

“They telegraphed to us. They said you'd mysteriously disappeared,” said Mrs. Rufus. ; .

*‘So I'have, my dear;'’ and in a cab, which- Washington had the presence of mind to call, all was explained. O'Dowd had telegraphed to the poor wife, and the morning paper had a long account of how Mr. Job Rufus, of Rufustown, had ordered breakfast, gone out to bathe, and returned no more.

. “Sure, we thought you'd been muridered, sir; and. I'm proud to see you ‘alive again!” said Mr. O’Dowd; and looking upon him as his best and truest {riend, Job Rufus shook him by the hand, and poured out thanks and )blesslngs. : : ' “But for that man,” he declared to Mrs. Rufus, on his way home in the cars, ‘“but for that man, I'm not sure that I should not have mysteriously aisappenred forevar. New York is an st N Tidelets | —Lemon Flapjacks: One pintof milk, hras oges, juloe of oo lamon, onefourth of & teaspoon of soda dissolved: Sy Mot ot ol mih.

| POLLY'S ADVENTURE. Dear brother Ben, I take my pen ; 'To tell you where, and how, aad when I found the nest of our speckled hen. She would never lay ina sensible way, - Like other hens, in the barn on the hay, But here and there, and everywhere, : On the stable floor, and the woodhouse stairs And onceon the ground her eggs I found; * But yesterday I ran away, | ‘With mother’s leuve in the barn to play.

The sun shone bright on the seedy ﬁoo'r,‘ _ And the doves so white were a pretty sight, And they walked in and out of the open door, With their little red feet and their feathers neat, ; ! Cooing and cooing more and more,

‘Well, I went out to look about - On the platform wide, where, side by side, I could see the pig-pens in their pride; And beyond them poth, on a narrow shelf, I saw the speckled hen hide herself Behind a pile of hoes and rakes, And pieces of board and broken stakes.

Ah! ha! old hen, I have found you now, But to reach your nest I don't know how, Unless I could creep, or climb, or crawl Along the edgq of the pig-pen wall.

And while I stood in a thoughtful mood, The speckled hen cackled as loud as she could, And flew away, as much as 1o say: “For once my treasure is out of your way.”

I didn’t wait a moment, then; I wouldn’t be conquered by that old hent But along the edge of the slippery ledge I carefully crept, for the great pigs slept, And I dared not even logk to see 3 If they were thinking of eating me.

But all at once, oh, what a dunce! I dropped my basket into the pen— The one you gave me, brother Ben; There were two eggs in it, by the way, That I found in the manger, under the hay.

Then the pigs got up and ran about ‘With a noise between a grunt and a shout; And when I saw them rooting, rooting, Of course I slipped and lost my tooting’ And tripped, and jumped, and finally fell Right down among the pigs, pellmell.

For once in'my life I was afraid; For the door that led out into the shed Was fastened tight with an iron hook, And father was down in the field by the brook, Hoeirg 2nd weeding his rows of corn, And here was his I§ol‘ly, so scared and forlorn; But I called him, and called him, as loud as I

"« ocould. : I knew he would hear me—he must, and he

] should. : ; *O father! O father!—get out, you old pig! O father! oh! oh—" for their mouths are so big— ; Then I waited a moment and called him again: ‘O father! O father! I am in the pig-pen!” And father did hear, and he threw down his hoe, And scampered as fast as a father could go. The pigs had pushed me close to the wall, And munched up basket, eggs and all, '‘And chewed my sunbonnet into a ball, | ‘And one had rubbed his muddy nose : Allover my apron, clean and white; And they snuffed me and stepped upon my toes, But hadn’t taken the smallest bite, ‘When father opened the door at last, And oh, in his arms he held me fast.] ! : B —The Voice. e _ “A STILL ALARM.” A Brave Little Girl’s Presence of Mind—- - S A True Story. - £ : ; Bertha’s dull pencil left awkward figures in its track across the slate. This would not do, for Miss Elvo insisted upon neatness as well as accuracy in the work of her pupils. Bertha, therefore, with a distressed little pucker between her dark eyebrows, raised her hand. ;

“Well,” said Miss Elvo, looking at her. ; [

“My pencil is very dull—may I go out and sharpen it?’ “she’said. It was the custom within this great, brick school building, known as ‘No. 4,” to have, the ‘pencils put in perfect working condition before school was called in the morning. Then they were passed around in a neat box, and each pupil took out her own. In some mysterious way Bertha’'s pencil had escaped the sharpening process, and its hard-worked point of the previous day was unfit for use. Miss Elvo looked in the box for an unclaimed pencil, but a rare occurrence—the box was empty. She therefore granted a somewhat unwilling consent to Bertha's petition. Bertha tip-toed across the floor, shut the poor softly and went through the long hall to the back door and into the chill winter air. Standing in a sheltered corner on the back porch, she began to sharpen her pencil. While working away busily she took her eyes 8 moment from her task and immediately discovered a thin curl of smoke issuing from one of the basement windows. It could mean but one thing—the bui'ding was on fire! Her decision was immediately ' taken. Only the night before she had heard her father explain to her brother hew to give a “still alarm.” How glid she was that she had listened attentively to his instructions, for it was now, above all things, necessary to have the fire company arrive quietly without alarming the pupils. There was a telephone in the store on the corner, and in less than five minutes the message had reached the chief of the fire department, and Bertha was speeding on her way back to the school building. She paused a few moments in the hall, near the door of the room where she belonged, to quiet her rapid breathing and calm her frightened face. When she entered her room, instead of going to her seat, she went straight to the teacher’s desk. Miss Elvo admired and loved her; she was one of those delightful children who are always heartily in earnest in ’their undertakings. There was nothing unusual in her appearance now save a glint in her dark eyes and a small red spot on either cheek. From these signs Miss Elvo, who was a keen observer, allowed her to step upon the rostrum unchecked. She turned her back upon the school and said in a low, but distinct, whisper: Pt e e e

. “Miss Elvo, there is a fire in the basament; I have been to thd corner and sent in a ‘still alarm.” " Sri

Miss Elvo’s cheek paled 'a little, but she took a pencil immediately and wrote on a scrap of paper: “Dismiss your pupils quietly, but as speedily ‘OB possible, e Miss ELvo.”

She handed this to Bertha, saying in _a low voice: . Pt s l ‘““You are a brave girl. Show this -paper to each teacher in the building as quietly and promptly as you have .doup ‘the rest. and’all, 1 trust, will be LT e ' Bhe then turned 10 tho desk and gave the signal for closing. work. . The pupils, who were poring over their -problems in fractions, were surprised, ‘bt wged g Woll Aplied. 10, ire, Shs, b prompt. ohodions e mple‘ments of work were put by, the pupils j ‘vose, filed out, and in five mintes the i ekl s e B R TNI R

When the last pupll was gone, her thoughts reverted to Bertha. She looked in the dressing-room belonging to the division. Yes, there hung the well-known gray “‘pussy” hood with its blue trimmings, and the long warm sack that belonged with it, but where could Bertha be? |

“She has proved that she gould take care of herself,” was Miss Elvo’s consolatory thought, and as she had privately told the teachers to assemble in the lower hall when the pupils were gone, sne hastened down to meet them. They were all there, and the story of the sudden suspension of school duties was soon told.

’ “We must do something,” said the first assistant, looking vaguely about and wringing her hands, but at that moment they heard the fire-engine roll up. 'The chief alighted from his horse, and was met in the hall by the bevy of teachers. When, after a respose to his inquiries, he started for the basement they.followed him. : There, smeared and wet, and surrounded by the now decreasing smokse, stood Bertha throwing water upon the burning woodwork and joists. It had caught from a defective flue leading from the furnace to the register above, the temporary closing of which had prevented the escape of the smoke into she hall. She had carried the water, in a large tin pail, from the hydrant-in the yard, but a few steps from the door leading down to the basement. Although she had not succeeded in quenching the fire entirely, she had prevented it from spreading by keeping the surrounding woodwork wet, and with a very little effort on the part of the firemen it was soon entirely extinguished. > Much praise was showered upon Bertha for her bravery and wisdom, but I think her first wise step was in giving careful attention and picking up a new scrap of knowledge, for without it even her bravery would have been useless perhaps.—ClaradJ. Denton, in Christian at Work. : :

e A PRIZE FUOR GOOD DEEDS. It Is Awarded to a Little Girl Who Was Too Busy to Try For It. King Kriskross had just come home from the royal races. There had been a gala time, but he was not quite satisfied. He had seen trials of speed, trials of strength, and trials of skill, and these he liked; but he had also seen a great many things he did not like at all. And now he was thinking it all over. His kingdom was not large. You might easily have walked around it between sunrise and sunset of the shortest day. So he knew all his subjects very well, and took a fatherly interest in every one of thems :

“I'm getting tired of all this,” he said to himself that day. ‘‘We have trials of skill, but how do people use their skill? They make the most of it to cheat and fool each other. We have trials of strength, but the strong impose upon the weak. We have trials of speed, but the swift are not helpful to the slow. I'll have no more such nonsense! I'll have a trial of good deeds, and see if that will set people thinking in the right way. I'll give whatever the winner may choose for a prize, and let all try for it, little and big.” So King Kriskross summoned a herald, and this great offer was duly proclaimed forthwith. A certain day was set for the trial, and on the next day all the people were to assemble at the palace, and one by one were to be admitted, to tell the King what good they had done. When this day came, the King heard many queer stories. One said he had searched the kingdom over and could not find any good deed to do. “H'm!” said the King, “If you had mended your own garments somewhat, it would have been better than nothing.” 4

Another owned that he had seen many little things to do, but had hurried on all day in search of some great thing, worthy to win the prize. “Stupid!” cried the King. *“Not to know that you could have come to the great only by way of the little!” One declared that he had given half of his property in alms.

“And if laward the prize to you, what is your choice?”’ asked the King.

“May it please your Majesty,” he said, eagerly, ‘it is my dearest wish to possess yonder stately castle.” “Which, as you well know, is worth a hundred times all you have given,” said the King. = ¢The prize is no’ yours.” i

And so'it went all day. King Krlskross repented having offered a prize for good deeds, for he saw that they can not be counted good deeds that are done for a prize. ; : Last of all came a little girl that lived with her mother at the foot of Rosebud Lane. And as she stood before the throne, in her plain, clean frock, with her neat hair and honest blue eyes, the King felt sure she had done better than all the rest together. P

«“Well, little daughter,’” said hs, ‘what good deeds can you claim?"’

“May it please your Majesty,” she replied, ¢I had no time yesterday to do any good deeds.” N ¢No time to do good deeds!” cried the King, ‘but what did you do?” ’ “Why, my mother was very busy indeed, so 1 fed the chiekens, and picked up chips, and swept the porch, and set the table, and played with the baby to keep him still.” , : : “Good!” said the King. <«But didn’t you wish to try for the prize?” , _ “Oh, very much!” said she. “There was something I wanted very much, but 1 had to give it up, for I was too busy. And Idon't 'think I know how to do good deeds, anyway.” - “But I think you do," said the King: “and lam going to give you the prize ﬁm‘&m’*’" el Aol mie *’ iE ; 7 \ i E‘i"f’.‘ a 8 ‘ e s ‘s was only bpoause: of har great degire foftly: +‘May it please your Mujesty, T G T e

THE GREAT SOUTH AMERICAN @ @@ @ l/@ E uﬁe\ The Most AstohishiugHMedical Discovery of the Last One Hundred Years. ' It is Pleasant to the Taste as the Sweetést Nectar. - Itis Safo and Harmless as the Purest Milk. X This wonderful Nervine Tonic has only recently be this country by the Great South Amaﬂmyﬁeedicinz (.‘,o‘xaxlxl in?;oggged etml't: great value as a curative agent has long bheen knowxs by &a: native ¥nhab--Itants of South America, who rely almost wholly upon “its great medicinal powers to cure every form of disease by which they are overtaken. This new and valuable South American mediaine possesses powers and qualities hitherto unknown to the medical profession. This medicine has completel{ solved the problem of the cure ofplndig&stion, Dyspepsia, Liver Complaint and diseases of the general Nervous System, It also cures all forms of failing health from whatever cause. It performs this by the Great Nervine Tonic qualities which it possesses and by its great curative powers upon the %}gestwe organs, the stomach, the liver and tggebowéls. No remed compares with this wonderfully valuable Nervine Tonie as a-builder anx str_engthener of the life forces of the human body and as a great renewer of & broken down constitution. It is also of more real permanent value in the ‘treatment and cure of diseases of the Lungs than any ten consumption remedies ever used on this continent. It is a marvelous cure for nervousness of females of all ages. Ladies who are approaching the critical period known as' change in life should not fail to usethis great Nervine Tonic almost constantly for the slpace of two or three years. It will ca.rri them safely over the dan%er. his great strengthener and curative oft inestimable value to the aged and infirm, because its great energizing properties will give them a new hold on life. It will add ten or fifteen years to the lives of many of those whowill use a half dozen bottles of the remedy each year. Nervousness and Broken Constitution, Nervous Prostration, Debility of Old Age, Nervous Headache and Indigestion and Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Heartburn and Sour Stomach, Female Weakness, ' Weight and Tenderness in Stomach, All Diseases of Women, Loss of Appetite, Nervous Chills, . Frightful Dreams, ; Paralysis, ' Dizziness and Ringing in the Ears, Nervous Paroxysms and Weakness cf Extremities and Nervous Choking, : Fainting Hot Flashes, Impure and Impoverished Blood, Palpitation of the Heart, Boils and Carbuncles, . Mental Despondency, Scrofula, Sleeplessness, Scrofulous Swelling and Ulcers, St. Vitus’s Dance, ‘Consumption of the Lungs, Nervousness of Females, : Catarrh of the Lungs, A Nervousness of Old Age, Bronchitis and Chronic Cough, Neuralgia, Liver Complaint, | - Pains in the Heart, Chronic Diarrheea, ‘ Pains in the Back, Delicate and Scrofulous Children, Failinig Health, Summer Complaint of Infants. é‘n these and many other complaints cured by this Wonderful Nervine Tonss NERVOUS DISEASES. _ Asacure for eveﬁy class of Nervous Diseases, no remedy has been able to compare with the Nervine Tonic, which is very pleasant and harmless in all its effects upon the youngest child or the oldest and mosg delicate individual, Nine-tenths of all the ailments to which the human family is heir, are dependent on nervous exhaustion and imlpaired digestion. When there is an insufficient supply of nerve food in the blood, a general state of debility of the brain, spinal marrow and nerves is the result. Starved netves, like starved muscles, become strong when the right kind of food is supplied, and a thousand weaknesses and ailments disappear as the nerves recover. As the nervous system must supply all the power by which the vital forces of the body are carried on, it is the first to suffer for want of t%erfect'. nutrition, Ordinary food does not contain a sufficient quantity of the kind of nutrimens necessary to repair the wear our %reecsent mode of living and labor imposes upon the nerves. - For this reason it becomes necessary that a nerve food be supplied. This recent production of the South American Continent has been found, bg analysis, to contain the essential elements out of which nerve tissue is formed. This accounts for its magic power to cure all forms of nervous derangements. G |} o T as

#r<. CRAWIORDSVILLE, IND., Aug. 20, ’BB, ) T'o the Great South American Medicine Co.: ¢ DEAR GENTS:—I desire to say to you that I have suffered for many years with a very serfous disease of the stomach and nerves, I tried every medicine I could hear of but nothing done me any appreciable good until I was advised to try gour Great SBouth American Nervine Tonic and Stomach and Liver Cure, and iince using several bottles of it I mustsay that am surprised at its wonderful powers to cure the stomach-and general nervous system. If everyone knew the value of this rem‘e?h as I do, you would not be able to supply the demand. J. A, Hgnnn%o‘ Ex-Treas, Montgomery

A Sworn Cure for Bt. Vitus’s Dance -or Chorea.

CRAWFORDSVILLE, IND,, Ma{ 19, 1886, My daughter, twelve years old, had been af%lcted for several months with Chorea or St. itus’s Dance. Shewasreduced to a skeleton, could not walk, could not talk, could not swal{?kw ,anythin%hbut milk; I had to handle her ean infant, Doctorand neighbors tfm her up. I commenced giving hertheSBouth American Nervine Tonic, the effects were very surprising. In three daysshe was rid of the nervousness, and rapidly improved. Four bottles cured her completely. I think the South American Nervine the grandest remedy ever discovered, and would recommend it to everyone, = Mgs, W. 8. ENSMINGER.

Blate of Indiana, ”» . Monigomery Counlyy ™ Subscribed and sworn to before me this My 19, 1887. CHAs. M. TrAvIS, Notary Public.

INDIGESTION AND DYSPEPSIA. The Great South American Nervine Tonic e Which we now offer {gu is the only absolutely unfailing remedy ever disocow ered for the cuzre of Indigestion, nyspepsia, and the vast train of symptoms and horrors which are the result of disease and debility of the human stom-~ ach. No person can afford to pass by this;jewel of incalculable value who is affected by disease of the Stomach, because the experience and testimony of thousands %o to prove that this is the oNE'and ONLY ONE great cure in the world for this universal destroyer. There is no case of unmalignant disease of the stomach which can resist the wonderful curative powers of the South American Nervine Toniec. : : Coow

Harriet E, Hall, of Waynetown, Ind., says: *I owe my lifeto The Great South American Nervine. Ihad beenin bed for five months from the effects of an exhausted Stomach, Indigestion, Nervous Prostration and a general shattered condition of my whole gstem. Had E;en up all hopes of getﬁl}.g well. Had tried ee.doctors with no relief. The first bottlg of the Nervine Tonic_ improved me so muc that I was able to walk agont and a few bottles cured me entlreﬁ. I believe it the best medicine in the I cannot recommend % too highly, o Mrs, M. Russell, S Orek Valley, Ind., &;llteo: I have nse!g several bottles of The th American Nervine Tonic and will say I consider it the best medicine in the world, I ‘b:leleve 'fl?h sav:ge th?l lives \oé :wo of my chil- . ey were down and nothin aﬂmed' to de themanyzmnmlpmmstg Telhedy. It was very rMnlrihcwrapldlnhoy both improved on its use. . I recommend the wmedicine to all my neighbors, S

EVERY BOTTLE WARRANTED. §&-Sold by ELDRED & (0., and all druggigts at Lige nier, Ind. Price of large, 18-unce bottle, $1.35. Trial mige; 10 Cont .oy v o 0 i

nas revolutionized the world [NVENTI“Ndnﬂng the iast half century, ot . Not ‘l.e:st untn!;)gg tn% won%eero nyentive progress method and system of work’thag can be gqrtamed allov‘{:th‘o Lountry without seKstns: the 'workers from their homes, Pay liberal; any one van do the waork; either sex yo;::n{or oui d; ?,pw;gomaablk ity required, Capital not needed; you -are started free, Out this out and return tous and Sl s S 0 B Z Q. R e e Hght awa; an - in the world; @rand ouyth; free. Aﬂiﬂ;’%ﬂ iw fusta 'mn&’, £ ‘“»\, - 1 'Wate YALKNTTNE BEOS.. Jeacerille, Wis.

Mr. Solomon Bond, & member of the Societ} of Friends, of Darllhgton, Ind., says: “I hawn used twelve bottles of The Great South Ames ican Nervine Tonic and Stomach and leg Cure and I consider that every bottle did fo me one hundred dollars worth of good, be cause I have not had a good night’s sleep fo twenty years on account of irritation, pain horrible dreams and genéral nervous ugrosl:m tion, which has been caused by chronic ind} 'gestion and dyspe&sia of the stomach and by ¢ roken down condition of my nervous system But now I can lie.down and sleep all nﬁ;ht a 4 sweetly as a baby, and I feel like asoun I do not think there has ever been a medi introduced into this countr{rwhich will at compare with this Nervine Tonic as a gure the stomach.”

. * CRAWFORDSVILLE, IND., June 22, 1887, My daughter, eleven years old, was severe} afflicted with St. Vitus’s Dance or Chorea. Wit gave her three and one-half bottles of Soutl American Nervine and 'she is completaly re: stored. I believe it will cure every case of S Vifus’s Dance. I have kept it in my family fof two and am sure it is the greatest rem edy &mworld for Indl%estion and Dyspep sia, all forms of Nervous Disorders and qu Health from whatever cause. - L ~ Jorx T, MisH, BState of Indiana, - g ® | Monigomery Countyl *¢ ? ; m'Sumbsorf'z bed and sworn to bet%'e ‘%mth!s Jum s . CHas. W. WRIGHT, Notary Pu.bflo.

Mrs, Ella A, Bratton, of New Ross, Indy gays: “I cannot express howmuch lowe fo the Nervine Tonie. My system was completely shatte appetite gone, was coughing an: sgttinréex'p b’iggd, anﬂug'e I was in the stage o consumpt‘i;l):ian inheritance hand down througlh Bev generations, I taking the Nervine Tonic and continued use for about six months, and am entirel cured. It is the grandest remody for nerves stomach and Jungs I have ever seen.” big Ed. J. Brown, dmgflat. of Edina, M writes: “My health had been very poor fx years, wasooughlnf soverely. I only weigh 110 pounds when I commenced 8%?‘3 | American Nervine,: I have used two bo and now ‘weigh 180 po“nd"bg: am much stronger and better than have for 5 years Am sure would not have lived through Winter had I not secured this remedy. customers see what it has done tormort it eagerly. It gives great satistaction,

-~ Wheo Are You Golng? Bl R e 7o 7be e 19 of sspanen, WU enadie ba Snswet S5O sS I O mwygfﬁmudwmﬁg*ﬂ . ,g«, RSR WIS W T e %“’m% :&' " h- B e ‘Z%,— it A.::%.»,ﬂ‘* @5;l-,, e ‘J% Eh% y. LA ey R TR, 1! i 56 JOBU, NS e