Ligonier Banner., Volume 24, Number 14, Ligonier, Noble County, 18 July 1889 — Page 7

v . Lo X Thve Ligonier Banner, | cT ey I LIGONIER, : : INDIANA -—--—-————-——.—_——-.— : . POLLY-PODS. e ‘Out in'my flel’ of clover which I'm savin'fer the seed, ‘ Amongst the brown heads standin', is that awk’- : ard, gawky weed: : An’ I'laf, altho’ I oughtn't, when I see it growin’ there ; A-crowdin’ out the clover, like e s if it owned & share : : “Of tho medder and its. profits an' was welcome es could be, o & An’ it knowed I'd leave it peaceful to nod 'n’ . grin at me. - It's likke astrappin’ tomboy, with its manners. all Teft out » ; 4An’ useful jes! fer nothin’ 'm’' han'some jes® fer stout; Ve But I leave it there—a beggar—only that it drinks the best ' ; | Of the dew and eats the vittals that should go to feed the rest. e . Ihain’t the heart to hurt it, fer the “Polly” of itsname Sl Keeps it-tender in my feelin's; fer my gal had jes’ the same, -~ « : : Isee herin the medder like es she'was in them days ; . v "Fore the angels coaxed her frum me—an’ they 3 must hed winnin’ ways; For I know my Polly loved me, an’ nothin' here " below Could'hev made her leave me cryin’, like my heart would break, you know. T could see her now a-standin’, ef the tears ud keep away. ; Yes, Inigh a'most can see, her as she was one i summer day ) A-loiterin’ through the medder 'n’ a-stoppin’ here and there . ‘ 3 “To pull the dead-ripe *‘pollys’’ and sow the smiHnlalr ; With the brown seeds an'the feathers; and they’ float off like a dream ; -Er a bubble es was sleepin’ on some idle, lazy _ stream; fis “Then she'd watch 'm goin’ up'ard in a kind o’ ' wishful way— ' But what my gal were thinkin’ 'of I kent, of | " course, jes' say:; . : : But when one night the angels my little pewee took, ; ; Her face were sweet with smilin” that same sweet, yearnin’ look She had thatday in summer when she blowed | the polly-pods . g An'’ fllled her arms with clover an’ lim’s of gold-ing-rods: An’so I leave 'm growin’, 'n’ I reckon that they make i My little Polly nearer, 'n’l love 'm for her sake. —S. M. McManus, in N. Y. Independent. e ettty A . MILTON DANFORTH,

The Story of a Dream -and Its Fulfillment i | Written for This Paper.] "m iy ILTON DANFORTH Y lj%h"hv’:’ | ;"b_ sat in a great arm TSR ie M iit B Übieine {2 ‘!) |8 _fév,u}g;g_. chair in bis library f@ it % r«; ~,trying to interest o '/ @ . ‘(i%; himself in a volume VRt SN M of recent poems o Q@WF /:7? {h which he had purFeAV AW f chased that da; 'ﬂm " thinking that b :‘\ 7 N\ 7/ pmight find some- | N V| T.;‘,g(‘f thing in it to divert hllﬂhﬁ M\L his mind from the unpleasant thoughts which for some time past had constantly kept him company. Try as he would, however, he could not force his mind into new «channels of thought. The wrinkles in his forehead grew deeper and deeper. Disgusted at his failure, he closed his eyes and went over the ecvents -of his past life again and again, trying to find some reason why fate had denied him the happiness he craved. At last, throwing the book on the table at his side, he rose and walked restlessly across the room to a little mahogany cabinet, and taking out a photograph which was set in a neat little pocket «case, he logked at the smiling pictured face earnestly and long, then, with a deep sigh, he went to the fire-place -and dropped the treasure into the glowing flames, muttering as hé did so: = “It.is better so. Time will not heal the wound and to keep such a reminder would’only aggravate it. w

*No,” he.continued, pacing the-room in Qis excitement, ‘1 can not understand why fate has decreed me so little real happiness while it has showered upon me what men commonly surren«der almost every good thing to obtain!’ ~ “Is this the way a_man should feel on the eve of his wedding? Oh! how: shall I hide my aching heart fromn my wife all the years to come? Ido not lové" her now, ang& I know I never shall. ‘ The sweet face of her sister will always come between us to taunt me with my | foolish love and still more foolish marv;i]%fe. I could not keep her from my I d even in the presence of my first wife, how then can I hope.to do more: with a second? O, that I were out of it:all—out of myself!” = ' |

Again his mind reverted to the past. Five years ago, he thought, I was married to as good a woman as ever lived; but I did not love her, for then as now I loved Gertrude Maybury with all my heart and soul. Three years after our marriage my wife died. Ido not think she ever knew—but what a living lie! " And how immeasurably harderit would have been had 1 not been convinced that I was doing it to save her life. e

What evil genius has been shaping my destiny that I should become entangled in a second alliance in the very presence of the woman I love and be. utterly unable to win her or to resist the influence which is soon to place her forever beyond my reach? It isasifl ‘were being carried along by the re#istless current, of a mighty river so swiftly that it is impossible for me to turn to the right or left, with certain destruction staring me in the face. = Oh! Gertrude, Gertrude, you are as Tar beyond my reach as the stars. Tomorrow’ I am to become the husband of your sister Bertha; and thenceforth be compelled to wear a mask of pleasant smiles. Why did I attempt to forget by engaging myself to Bertha when 1 knew, or should have known as well then a 8 now, that I never can forget! I was beside myself, frenzied, mad, any thing but in my right mind! = ~ With an exclamation of despair he #threw himself face dowi:};rd‘ on 71‘ a«;tz, _~ e wout of the previous thirty-six inbed. It “was 1o wonder, therefore, that with his ‘mind 80 exhausted by constant worry ‘he soon fell into a troubled sleep. At Airst he felt himselt borne, against his will, by some invisible power up the steep side of a mountain, the summit Jf it Spmichod anslbin dimoins

ment to be dashed against the towering cliffs in front or into the bottomless chasms beneath. Finding that he was powerless to escape, he ceased to struggle and became passive in the hands of his captor. After what seemed to him almost an age, he found himself upon the summit of the mountain,

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S‘OE LOOKED AT THE SMILING PICTURED FACE.”

looking down the oppesite sile from the one which he had ascended. It was almost perpendicular. Far below him" was a thick shroud of mist enveloping the base of the mountain. As far down as he could see, sharp pieces of rock jutted out from the face of the cliff; and he knew that if he stepped over the brink he would be mangled beyond ag human resemblance before he had fallen qundred feet. | ' He was given but a few seconds' to contemplate his impending fate, when his captor again seized him. This time. not to lift. him up and bear him safely over the place of danger as heretofore, but to push him slowly, relentlessly, nearer to the awful death which awaited him on the rocks below. He tried to ecry out, but no sound escaped his lips. He struggled fiercely to free himself, but his limbs seemed to be pinioned as tightly as if they had grown fast together. After a time he resigned himgself to the Inevitable and sent up asilent prayer to his Maker for mercy. The next instant he was toppling over the edge of the precipice. His captor had left him, but freedom was of little use to him now, and after one desperate, but unsuccessful effort to regain his balance, he closed his eyes, expecting to open them in eternity. At that moment a hand, gently, but firmly, grasped his arm and drew him back to the rock upon which he had been standing. Turning quickly to see who had rescued him, he beheld ’the beautiful form of his angel wife. She was changed beyond expression, yet every feature was as easily recognizable as when she was in the flesh. There was no sign of trouble or sorrow about her, no signi of ' disease, but to perfect physical form and feature was added that heavenly grace which ‘‘passeth understanding.” 'The light of the old love was in her eye, unmixed with regret or reproach. Her general appearance and the expression of her features indicated a condition superior to Danforth’s fondest imagination of heavenly l life. As he saw her now, the embodiment of happiness and contentment, ho felt a satisfaction greater than he had ever before experienced in the efforts he had made to secure her earthly happiness. : -

¢TI will henceforth,” he mentally resolved, ‘‘consider those few years of married life the best spent of all my earthly existence,” :

With & gracetul gesture his heavenly visitant bade him follow her. Taking another way,which soon' left the mountain far behind, they traversed quiet lanes and green pastures where the tinkling of little sheep bells, mingled with the music of running brooks, recalled to ‘Danforth’s mind the rural scenes of his early childhood and made him wish that he could return again in fact, as well as Tancy, and be always a boy. But they were going with the speed of the wind, and these pleasant scenes soon faded and they found themselves within the limits of the city. On and on they went, over Danforth’s home; over the business streets till they came to the Maybury mansion. Here at the lighted window in ihe second story they stopped. :

- ““Look,” she whispered as she caused the curtain on the inside to move quietly upward. s L He obeyed without question and saw on the opposite side of the room a figure reclining on a bed in an attitude of deep dejection. Soon the figure rose, and, with quickening pulse Danforth recognized Gertrude Maybury. She was pale and sad, and her inflamed face and eyes showed that she had been weeping bitterly. Advancing to a table near the light she drew a photograph from her bosom, regarded it wistfully for a moment and then, kissing it passionately, she tore it into bits and dropped them into the waste basket. ~ The curtain noiselessly resumed its ‘place and Danforth turned to hig guide. . “What does it mean?" he asked in & puzzled, anxious tone. g

- *‘You are blind,” was the reply. ‘“She loves the man who. to-morrow is ito become her sister’s husband.”’

.~ The revelation was so sudden, so unexpected and carried such an endless food of happiness into his hungry soul ‘that he awoke with a start which nearly ‘cost him his life. He was not in 'his own room, nor could he at first tell ‘where he was. By degrees he became ‘aware that he was in the open air and ‘that he was hanging from the limb of a tree. The limb which he was grasping: ‘desperately with both hands, was ‘swaying to and fro and creaking ‘threateningly. As he looked around | for some means of escape from his per- | ilous position, he saw light streaming | from a window a few feet above his | Head. He could see that the curtain | was raised several inches} but he was 100 far below the lighted space to look into the room. The‘l’cmbmto %hiqh he was elinging brushed against the building making asharp gratirig oise which evidently attracted the attention of the %‘“H?WW“” & Pl ot 1 i e e e L TR e the ya-d below, and for tha frot time

it flashed acrose Danforth’s’ mind that he bad been walking in his sleep, and had found his way into the great elm tree opposite Gertrude Maybury's window. He could understand, now, how his sudden awakening had caused him to lose his balance and grasp for support the first.thing that came within his reach. :

~ But the limb was grewing weaker at every vibration. He reached out his feet in every direction, but found nothing capable of holding his weight. Then he tried to gain the trunk of the tree by passing hand over hand along the limb. His first effort, however, was the hairon the camel’s back. With a crash that awoke the' echoes, his support gave way and the unfortunate somnambulist fell to the ground. His last thought after the limb broke was of the humiliating position he would be in if he were discovered, then his head struck a lower branch with such force as to render him insensible.

When Danforth again awoke to consciousness, he found himself in bed, in a strange room. Feeling a stinging sensation in his forehead, he tried to raise his right hand to examine it, but his arm would not move. It was broken Succeeding better with his left hand, he found his head tightly bandaged. : “Where am land what is the matter?"”’ he asked as a woman came to the bed, to adjust the covers.

“You have been sick nearly three weeks,” replied the nurse, *‘‘and you are at Mr. Maybury’s. Butyou must be quiet. They wouldn’t have you excite yourself now for the world. Take a good rest; then you will be able to talk a little.”’ L)

Thus enjeined he held his peace and soon fell ask ep. From that on his improvement was rapid. Had he been a member of the family the Mayburys could not have been more interested in his recovery. One morning he tried to explain to Mr. Maybury his presence in the yard on the night of the accident, but that gentleman, with a good, natuved twinkle in his eye, replied: : : ‘ =

“No need of an explanation, Danforth. You explained all in your delirium. I’ didn’t know- you were a somnambulist. But you were in luck that time if you did come very near breaking your neck. After you are married Gertrude will have to tie a string to you nights to keep you indoors.”’ ‘

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“Why do you say Gertrude?” asked Danforth, his pale face turning scarlet. “Oh! that's all arranged,” returned the old gexntleman, smiling and rubbing his hands. *Bertha is glad to be released. You may have suspected that the wind had changed to another quarter. So our timely discovery of your love sor Gertrude makes it possible for all of you to be happy.” | ; “What!” interrupted the sick' man, ‘‘does Gertrude love me after all?’

“Indeed, she does. Your dream, or vision, or whatever it may be called, 8o far as it related to her was perfectly true. But if she finds it out she will never forgive me for telling you. I watched with you a good deal during the first three weeks of your sickness and heard the whole story, dream and all. So I took the liberty to learn how the girls felt about it. I havesaid this to you so there may be no more misunderstandings. You will not let them know, of course.”’

“Indeed, I will not, and may God bless you, Mr, Maybury. You have made me the happiest man in the universa.”’ - LE Roy G. Davis.

WHITE HOUSE CATS.

etiiSup—" A Whole Army of Them Wage War on

JRats and. Mice.

There are aimost as many cats about. the White House as may be seen on a prosperous Pennsylvania dairy farm. The White House cats are not of especially fine breed. They are not proud nor in any way especially distinguished from other cats, unless it is in their Wreeding qualities. They are a promiscuous lot, in all colors that cats come. Most of them have attached themselves to the household apparently from a patriotic desire to serve the country, coming from no one knows where. Many new ones are said to have appeared at the mansion while Mrs. Cleveland reigned there, notwithstanding the playful habits of the dog Hector. As far as is consistent with our form of government, they enacted Mother Goose's melody. The other day there was a great squalling in the basement. A new family of kittens had appeared. .“It is pretty near time to have a drowning,” remarked one of the ushers. ‘We have to drown out a colony of kittens about twice a year.” ‘“How many cats have you, pray?” 1 asked. *O, between thirty and fifty old ones. The young no one can keep count of. When they get too numerous there has to be a wholesale killing. Two _kﬂnx;‘gqg’a year keop themdown,” = - f " » l‘ge building is so ,'§g.t§srted" with rata and mice that an army of old mousers is necessary to protect the larder and the conservatory. Most of the cats are ﬁmmwﬁmwv%rywmn underand destroy the roots of the many ﬁmwamﬁ% fion of litle tats is, marvelo %ﬁw Houss kltens” for pots. This wil furTR T Y e e RS R T Y

e » > YOU’LL REAP: WHAT YOU :SOW.: Be careful what you sow, my boy, ; For seed that’s sown will grow, And what you scatter, day by day, ‘Will bring you joy or woe. ; For sowing and growing, - Then reaping and mowing, - Are the surest things ere known, . And sighing and crying, Q And sorrow undying, = « . Will never change seed that is sown.

‘Be watchful of your words, my boy, -~ Be careful of your acts, For words can cut, and deeds bring blood, And wounds are stubborn facts, Whether sleeping or weeping, : Or weary watch keeping, , The seed that is sown will still grow; The rose brings new roses; The thorn-tree discloses P Its thorns as an index of woe.

Be careful of your friends, my boy, : Nor walk and mate with:vice: : *“The boy is father to the man;" Then fly when sins enticel The seed one is sowing Through time will be growing, - And each one must gather his own; Ia joy or in sorrow, - To-day or to-morrow, You’ll reap what your right hand has sown! —Mary M. Audersen, in Little Men and Women. e @ [ A HARD-WORKED BOY. The Reason Why Jacky Didn’t Go Fishing. “Now, Jacky, I'll tell you what chores you have to do this morning.” “*Oh, dear!” wailed Jack, ‘I want to go fishing, right off.” : ! “You can go fishing. All you have to do won’t take you more than hailf an hour, if you hurry.” *“I hate to do chores,” said Jack.

“Of course you do. Every body knows that. But chores have to be done, and it is a good thing for small boys to have something to do.” ““Yes, yes,” said Jack. ‘Every body thinks small boys ought to work all the time.” :

‘“You are to carry this pail of cream over to Mrs. Lee’s.” ; “*lt's ever so far.” :

“It is scarcely half a mile. And cut a basket of kindling, and dig enough potatoes for dinner.” ] hate to dig. It always makes my back ache. And I hate to split kindlings; I 'most cut myself the other day.” *‘Here’s the cream.”

Jack whined dolefully as he took the small pail and went through the back yard. ; v “Chores, chores!” he grumbled. “I do believe they think boys were made for nothing else but to do chores. I shall be all tired out before Igo fishing. If mother ’d ever been a boy and had to do chores she’d know."

. Hannah, the girl that helped in the kitchen, was in the yard, and Jack’s remarks had been half to her and half to himself. i

“Do you think your mother has no chores to do, then?” asked Hannah. “Of course she hasn’t,” said Jack. “Did you ever see her piling wood, or running errands, or driving the cows, or cutting kindling?”’

“Did you ever see her making bread or pies or cakes for little boys to eat?” asked Hannah. ¢Did you ever see her making butter and cheese and soft soap? Did you ever see her sweeping and dusting and making boys’ beds? Did you ever see her making pants and coats and mending stockings and sewing on buttons?” - “Here, Watch, Watch, Watch!” called Jack, as he turned into the lane.

I /believe: I'll hitch Watch to the little cart and make him draw me,” said Jack. ¢‘He'’s a lazy fellow, and ought to be good for something.” Jack set his pail down and hunted in the barn for some straps and strings. By the time he had found enough, Watch was gone, and had to be hunted up again. It took some time to harness him in, and then he showed, as he had often shown before, tha@;g‘ did not enjoy being turned into a ho¥se.

- “Get up, Watch! Behave yourself, I say.” Jack seated himself in the cart, and ordered Watch to go on. Then Watch came to a dead stand still until Jack got out and led him, when he would start off on a brisk run, and Jack would jump into the cart. But the moment he felt the small boy’s weight Watch again came to a halt. After this had taken place about a dozen times, the cream, strange to say, arrived safely at Mrs. Lee's.

Jack worked his way home as he had come, and turned his dismal face toward the wood-yard. ; : I never did like to chop kindling. I don’t see why Hannah uses up such an awful lot of it. I don’t see why she can’t cut it herself. - Stop now—there are some good pisces lying here. That'll be so much less to cut.” - . He pounced on some small bits of wood, and then began looking for more. E ;

“Perhaps I can find enough without cutting a mite.” s e '

Up and down the yard went Jack, carefully picking up chips and small bits of wood. He found a long stick, and, with much labor, broke it into. short pieces with his hands. He turned over some heavy sticks of wood to find a few bits which lay under them. He spent a good deal of time breaking splinters from the hard wood, getting many a sliver into his fingers. ' “I do declare, I've ’most got my basket full,” he at length said: ¢l'll finish with some of these dry bushes over on that heap in the corner.” The bushes were thorny and hard to get at, but in the course of time Jack had the satisfaction of seeing his basket filled. . e “Now for the potatoes. I think Joe ought to dig the potatoes. It’s dreadfully hard work to dig. I believe I'll get my bait first, and then I shall be all ready to go fishing.” P

Bait was rather scarce, and it took ‘Jack a full half-hour to get enough. This duty done, Jack looked, with a groan, into the potato patch. “It"l take three hills, anyhow. I wonder what folks want to eat so many potatoes for. Ah! there's one 'most on {top of the ground. I wonder why they“ ‘plant potatoes so deep 'under the ground, anyway. Perhaps I can find some more on top of the hills, Yes, there's one over in that row.” - For an hour the small boy walked up and down between.the rows, pouncing -upon any potato which might chance. to be peeping out;c’f gh&g’mgﬁ& Yooting deeply witli hands for others W“EM“WWMA%%

- “Well, I've got my potatoes at last!” he (sa.id. standing up to wipe his forehead, *‘and I didn’t. have to dig a bit. But it's awfully hot, and my back aches like sixty. ‘Of course, it's hard to get potatoes, even if youdon’t have'to dig. What's that? It’s the dinner-horn. But it ean’t be dinner-time. . But what would they be ‘blowing the horn for? I' do believe it’s dinner-time. There are the men coming. Dear me! I wanted to go fishing!” ' “Jacky,” called his mother, as she saw him, “why didn’t you come and get the potatoes for dinner? Hannah had to get them an hour ago. Where were you?” ; . “I—guess I was digging bait,” said Jack. [ : ; ‘‘Hello, Jack!" shouted a boy who, with two or three others, came along the lane; ‘‘you were a great goose not to come down to the river this morning. The fish bit splendid. And Mr. Grant had his sail-boat out and gave us all a sail.” *“Why didn’t you come?” asked another. “E had to do chores,” whimpered Jack.—Sydney Dayre, in Christian Union.

ALTOGETHER TOO “SMART.”. What Jack Lost Because of His Impolitaness. A few mornings since, while waiting at the station of a large country town, I witnessed a little incident that I think will interest the readers of Our Young People. / The ticket agent had gone to breakfast, leaving the office in charge of a bright-looking boy of fourteen of fifteen. The boy was reading what seemed to have been a very interesting book, judging from the reluctant manner -in which he laid, it aside to wait on passengers. : Shortly after my arrival, an old lady, oddly dressed, and evidently not accustomed to traveling, came in, and after depositing her bundles and procuring her ticket, inquired civilly of the office boy: - ;

“What time is the up train due?”

“‘Ther’s a time table_ on the wall behind you,” was the surly answer. ““You can’t read, I reckon.” :

Without a word the old woman put on her glasses, and after a long search gained the information he might have given her in less time than it had taken to give his ungracious answer.

¢7:33, 7:83. It must be that time now,” she soliloquized. “Young man, would yeu please to tell me what time it is?” she asked, timidly, glancing at the boy again. i - “Why don’t you look.at the clock?” sneered the smart lad. ¢My business is to sell tickets, not to answer questions.”

An old gentleman, very plainly dressed, who had been sitting in a corner with his’ hat pulled over his eyes, looked up quickly when he heard the boy’s impolite response; but he said nothing, and after the lapse of a few minutes sauntered slowly across the room to the ticket window. :

‘““What is . your name, my boy?” he asked, kindly, after nodding intelligently to the telegrapher. :

“I do not know that it is any of your business; but if you have a fortune. to leave you can just name Dick Morton’s kid, Jack, and it will be all O. K.” ‘“Your fa’q%er ought to be proud of such a promising boy,” returned the gentleman, dryly. ‘ls Mr. Johnson in?” he asked, a little sharply. ‘You - can find out by making useof your eyes, I guess,” said the boy, glancing around under tables and benches,apparently very much amused. Just then another boy came in with some papers for the agent, and his smart friend said, loud enough to be heard all over the waiting-room:

‘“‘Here, Fred, don't go away till Johnson comes. Attend to the tickets if any are wanted. I have been bored to death answering questions, and I want to finish this book before the boss gets round.” The new comer quitely hung up his hat and coat, and went to wait upon some ladies who were standing at the window. o

A few minutes later the old gentleman asked somewhat sharply: ‘““What time is the train due, Bub?” 447:33,” was the prompt answer. - “And what time is it now?P” demanded the same impatient voice that had spoken before. *“lt. is just fifteen minutes past seven,” replied the boy, cheerfully. - ‘““Ape,” sneered smart Jack. “Why don’t you bluff him off?” ‘ '~ “What is your name?” persisted the old man, stepping up a little closer. . “Fred Myers,” responded the boy, politely. . v :

. *ls the boss in?” was the next inquiry, in a much lower tone. "+ “No, sir. He has gone to his breakfast, but will be back in a few minutes,” was the quiet answer. “Seeing your master is not in, can't you give me cut rates to Wheeling? I'll see that you are not found out.”” My Master is always in,” was the boy’s quick reply. ] - Just then Mr. Johnson, the agent, came in and addressed the plain-look= ing stranger as Mr. Hays, and the boys both knew that the superintendent of the railroad had been talking to them, and before they had recovered from their confusion they heard him say: ‘Mr. Knox, your telegraph op'-‘ erator, has been appointed to take charge of an office in the city, and I c¢ame down to look after a suitable boy to take his plase here. Remembering the information you gave me some time ago, I had made up my mind concerning whom his successor should be, but after what 1 have witnessed thi ‘morning, I have come to'the conclusion that Dick Morton's kid, Jack, isentirely too smart for our use, and that this boy, whose Master is always in, can be trusted to take oliarge of the :%”;%ﬂi’w‘i' gers could not b toleratod, and that 1 st S96IE Bk rniploriant, atil hé loaritk) o pbiy the atall sonei

THE GREAT SOUTH AMERICAN . : . omacisLiver Lure ‘The Most AstonishugHMedmal Discovery of the , Last One Hundred Years. It is Pleasant to the Taste as the Sweetest N ectar, It is Safe and Harmless as the Purest Milk. « This wonderful Nervine Tonic has only recently been introduced this country by the Great South American yM‘edicimyt Com anyl:ogxtxlgod etmi't: great value as a curative agent has long been knowz by t&e native {nhabitants 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 %ompletply solyed the problem of the cure Aof-lndigestion, Dyspepsia, Liver omplaint and disﬁes of the general Nervous System, It also cures all | i:grms of failing I alth from whatever cause. It performs this by the Great ervine Tonic qualities which it possesses and by its great curative powers upon the %‘lgestlve organs, the stomach, the liver and tﬁé bowels. Noremed compares with this wonderfully valuable Nervine Tonic as a builder anx utrenﬁthener 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 use this' great Nervine Tonic almost constantly for the glpa_ce of two or three years. It will them safely over the danger.. This great strengthener and curative -is of 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, iy Nervous Prostration, - .Debility of Old Age, Nervous Headache and Indigestion and Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Heartburn and Sour Stomach, Female Weakness, Weight and Tenderpess in Stomach, All Diseases of Women, Loss of Appetite, o 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, g . Sleeplessness, Scrofulous Swelling and Ulcers, St. Vitus’s Dance, Consumption of the Lungs, ! Nervousness of Females, Catarrh of the Lungs, : Nervousness of Old Age, Bronchitis and Chronic Cough, Neuralgia, | Liver Complaint, ' Pains in the Heart, Chronic Diarrhoea, . Pains in the Back, Delicate and Scrofulous Children, Failinig Health, Summer Complaint of Infants. é:ll these and many other complaints cured by this Wonderful Nervine Tonse NERVOUS DISEASES. .. Asacurefor 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 ufon the youngest child or the oldest and most 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 merves, 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 %erfect nutrition, Ordinary food does not contain a sufficient quantity of the kind of nutrimens necessary to repair the wear our %resent 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. : :

& Emwmnnsvmm; Ixp., Aug. 20, ’BB, ) T'o the Great South American Medicine Co.e ‘ t DEAR GENTS:—I desire to say to you that I have suffered for many years with a very san-‘ fous disease of the stomach and nerves. I tried every medicine I could hear of but nothing done me any appreciable good quntil I was advised to try gour Great South American Nervine Tonic and Stomach and Liver Cure, and iince using several bottles of it I mustsay that am surprised at its wonderful powers o cure the stomach and general nervous system. If everyone knew the value of this reme(g as 1 do, you would not be able to supply the demand. J. A, ﬁgnmméo-Ex-Treas. Montgomery

A Sworn Cure for St. Vitus’s Dance or Chorea.

. CRAWFORDSVILLE, IND. Mai 19, 1886, My daughter, twelve years ;Jld, ad been af%llcted for several months with Chorea or St. tus’s Dance, Bhewasreduced to a skeleton, could not walk, could not talk, could not swal{?kw anythin{but milk; I had to bandle her ean infant. Doctorand neighbors gave her up. I commenced giving herthe South American Nervine Tonio,; 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 NerEine lgm grandest dn;?l&dy ever discovered, and would recommend everyone, l&‘ns. W. 8 ﬁx«men Siate of Indiana, . Montgomery Gountyf 88s Subscribed and sworn to before me this My 19, 1887, CHAS. M. TrAVIS, Notary Public,

INDIGESTION AND DYSPEPSIA. - ‘ The Great South American Nervine Tonic ' Which we now offer {gu is the only absolutely unfailing remedy ever discow ered for the cure of Indigestion, Diyspepsia, and the vast train of symptoms and horrors which are the result of disease and debility of the human stomach. No persen 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 ﬁo 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 Tonic. Sl ;

Harrlet E. Hall, of Waynetown, Ind., says: *1 owe my life to 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 %whole system, Had E;en up all hopes of geiting well. Had tried eo doctors with no Telief. The first bottle of the Nervine Tonio imaggoved me 80 much that I was able to walk ut and a few bot~ tles cured meo em I believe it the best medicine in the I cannot recommend % too highly. o : | Mrs. M. Russell, Bugar Creek Valley, Ind., AT uth . ican Nervine Tonic and say I consider it the best medicine in the world. I believe it saved the lives of two of my children, They were down and notll;lrgg apﬂeared to de them any good until I proc this rem‘d{fz It 'was very surpmtnﬁ how rapidly they both improved on its use. I recommend the wmedicine to all my neighbors, 3

EVERY. BOTTLE WARRANTED. & Sold by ELDRED & (0., and all druggigts at Ligo pier, Ind. Price of la.rge, 18-ounce bottle, $1.25. Trial size; 15 Cents. .Ve el _

nas revolutionized the world [NVENTlﬂNduring the last half century, . Not least a.mong the wonders of inventivegroxresa is a method and systemi of work that can be performed all over the country without leynmt.ing the workers from their homes, Pay liberal; anl one can do the work; either sex ymﬁf or old; o special ability required. Capital not needed; you are started tree, Out this out and return to usand we will send you free, aomethin%qt. Breat value snd importance to you, that will-Biart you in: business, whioh 'brgggiyou\ in more money .gﬁmf"l‘ way, than snything else \ﬁa '{ . mer FAD A DLV Learn heré s BRI FOOG | i 48(5 A ﬁ % W;:“i Yire F"’?{ B "Wirite YALRNTING BROS., Janearills, Wis. | Re S R R G o AT ek R RN B e SR e s G A

Mr. Solomon Bond, & member of the Societ of Friends, of Darlington, Ind., says: “I haw used twelve bottles of The Great South Amen ican Nervine Tonic and Stomach and Livg Cure and I consider that every bottle did f me one hundred dollars worth of good, be cause I have not had a good night’s sleep fo twenty years on o.u%unt of irritation, pain horrible dreams and general nervous nSnoslzm tion, which has been caused by chronic indi ‘gest.ion and dyspegisla of the stomach and by ¢ roken down condition of my nervous system ‘But now I can lie down and sleep all ntht o sweetly as a baby, and I feel like a:soun I do not think there has éver been a medi introduced into this ooun%which will at compare with this Nervine Tonic as a gure the stomach.” 3 :

. * CRAWFORDSVILLE, IND., June 23, 188%." * My daughter, eleven years old, was severe}) afflicted with St. Vitus’s Dance or Chorea. Wt gave her three and one-half bottles of Soutd American Nervine and she is completaly rer stored. I believe it will cure every case of S§ Vitus’s Dance. I have kept it in my family fof two years, and am sure it is the greatest edy i’r'l the world for Indl%esﬁon and D ; lsia, all forms of Nervous Disorders and ]?% ‘Health from whatever cause. t | Joux T. Mlsu. State of Indiana, - “Montgomery C'ounty( haa ' Subscrfbed and sworn to before me this Jund 22,1887, CuAS. W. WRIGHT, . . Notary Publis

- Mrs, Ella A, Bratton, of New Ross, Indg says: “I cannot express how much lowe to th¢ Nervine Tonio., My system was completely shatte appetite gone, was coughin s&ittinrgzl’p bll’ggd, anggu:’o I was in thg stage of consumption, an inheritance handex down t.hrouﬁh several generations, I taking the Nervine Tonic and continued i use for about six months, aid am entire cured. It is the grandest remedy for nervesy stomach and Jungs I have ever seen.” o - Ed. J. Bro drugflat..otEdm,vl!f writes: My ;xve};lnth he beenlve poor ears, was cou severely, I only weigh {lO pounds whgen { commenced &u Sou American Nervine, I have used two bo and now weigh 130 pounds,b::d am much stronger and better than have been for 5 yearn Am sure would not have lived through the Winter had I not secured this remedy. ‘ customers see what it has done for me and It eagerly. It gives great satisfaction.”

. Wheee Are You Golng? ‘73am @9 you miart? Whewe frem? How man 2EPege ha r.gl:. 1 r«a@: ~l’o:’.‘ti B iTR | An. 3 nforng- | T asssead A Sation wh 3 2 A o hits PR 4 e #&( 3 ' m %i’”’@yﬁﬁl“ ~\:¥§wﬁ i Bel dh s . - w{,&i@ st oot Rguto b bped A eriagobibe & ?s‘»@l-*;;3s'; ‘ ‘*’v\"‘r; ‘-vwe&%%~r“ ;-':;&:‘:E"ﬁ:”»&?«m’«, 3 »’z?, *”% oot LS ' — -‘-5 »,"";.\n"-‘x"‘\i:zvk‘&'izgl‘.\ "371”5‘ = ’,r,": P ‘% - ~‘(v;“ b -,\VJ; ‘*m;«%ﬂh&&m@%@mﬁ&«w*w%&mV‘“