Pike County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 8, Petersburg, Pike County, 3 July 1884 — Page 4

vSX.ir-’vUOL. Fabluhed Every Thursday. PETERSBURG. r<. INDIANA. (A ONE DEAR LITTLE WOMAN. One dear little woman, - With eyes of true blue, A face like the sunlight And breath Hue the dew, A wealth of brown hair . Possesses my heart. •wsSfen. "-'i.t '- ■ ' No angel or fairy — " This darting of mine. But oue quite As human As she is divine. With liandsjust as busy As busy can be. This dear little woman T7T :fioj$recrt>l*8to me. She may hare a Will As our way we pursue; But her bidpment is good, ■...... ,_And she'softtu tne right, - "*PhH dear little wdtnan Who kgpps my home bright. She .flits through the house “tike-thesuiMhlne eaoh day. And home is not home - When-mydarlings away: WttXVXnshe-sgone, Ttodear little woman t ety heart So antes on. Some say 5 is magic, ' Some say it is love; 1 know it's the latter, _ AidHnrre from above; I , l,j>romjso'<J to cherish' - Jim love MB I died, This dear little woman— My helpmeet, my bride. r -Mrs. M. A. Kidder, in If. T.Lcdjef,

, THE TRAINED HORSE. A Defective’s Story. From Clayville to Booneton, in the U nited States, is about fifteen miles, a'eiog1-, a rolling prairie, and the road mris very near east and west. Halfway between the two towns the road, is .Attached by a point where a heavy growth of pine trees swoop away to the northward into a dark, dense forest. In the spring of 1812 a’ man left Clay vi lip in the morning, bound for Booneton. __ His name was registered at the inn as Rielta d Bizbee, "of New York, and he was supposed to have money with him. He loft Clayville upon horseback in fine health and spii'its, but he was never seen in Bonheton. Perhaps ho had, unnoticed, gone part of the way and then returned.3 At all events he ,„was never heard of more in that district. About a month after that a man from' St. Louise left Boonpville for Clayville. He was also on horseback, and started off well and hearty; but he never reported himself at the p'ace of his destination. Within a fortnight after this second disappearance two more travelers were missed. What did it mean? The road * between the two towns was direct, and not .even a by-way was there to lead any one astray; so that to wander from 4 true path was impossible. During the month of July three travelers were missed, and the people turned out ih a Body to search. Of course attention was turned to the wood, and the search >vas extended.for miles and miles, but ,* Without success. On thfc 4th of August a yonng mdn, who gave his name at Clayville as Michael Dupont, of New Orleans, left .the place for Booneton. He was on horseback, and when he was told of the dangers of the road he only laughed at them. He said he had a good horse and good weapons, and he was not afraid. But Michael Dupont never reached Booneton. \ It was on the 19th of August that 11 arrived at Clayville, and put up at the village inn. I was on the track of two rogues who had robbed the bank in Jackson: and I had not been at the inn an hour before I made myself sure that the men I sought had passed that way only .three days before. And then I heard this other story ?of the travelers who had so mysteriously disappeared *■. twfin the road that lay before me. When 1 had gone” some five or six miles the next morning, I noticed that my horse began to falter, and in a little while afterward he came to a walk and seemed to be in great pain. Imagining that he wonld soon fall, I slipped from the saddle and led him out upon the grass at the side of the road. As I stood thus, wondering what in the world! should do, I saw a man coming toward me from the direction of Booneton. He was seated on a powerful black horse, without any saddle, and his only bridle was a piece of rope passed around the animal’s nose. He was a simple-look-ing fellow, dressed in an ordinary farming garb, and behind him were what ■<* appeared to ne some empty bags. As he came near to where I stood, I saw him gather his halter, as though he meant to put his horse into a rhn. “.Hello;” I cried. Stop a moment,” ’ The fellow seemed to consider upon (it and finally turned his horse’s head toward me and soon dismounted by my side. *Tve hecr’ a good deal ’bout this road,” he said, eyeing me from top to toe, "and I like to be kcerful, Met with a fnlh eh, stranger?” “Not exactly a fall,” I said. "My horse; seems to have given in.” The fellow walked around my quivering beast, and when he came back he put his hand upon the animal’s throat and gave a sliaro punch. The horse started back with a grunt, and directly began to heave and slaver at the jjjouth. “You don’t belong to these parts, stranger,” he said eyeing me again. “No,"I told him. J “I thought not, he added. “1 guess your hoss has been eatin’ devil’s fail.” I asked him what that was. "It’s a kind o’ poison,” he answered, "that bosses pick up hereabouts. He’ll be well enough by to-morrow or next dav, at the farthest.” “If that’s the case,” I said, “perhaps you’ll let me bargain for yours.” "I never owned" anything yet that I wouldn’t sell if a man wanted it more'n I did,” he replied. “Well,” I said, “and may I ask what price you set on yonr beast?” > ■ "Je*t seventy dollars.” I had expected to hear him say a hundred. I took him at his offer in a moment. The bargain was made; I counted oat seven ten dollar pieces, put my saddle and bridle upon the new horse and then mounted. '■ "Perhaps,” said the fellow, as he gave Se sick horse another punch in the gtilt, “if I should meet you in Booneton one o* these days ye might like te change back again?” I told him we’d see about that, and then, bidding him good morning, I fttsirtari off.

1 had certainly got a splendid horse. He stepped as lightly and gracefully as a dancing master, and bore me as easily as though I had been in a carriage. In a little while I touched him with the whip and he pranced gayly. I patted h*jm on the neck and told him that I liked him. We were now just at the point where the angle of the wood reached the edge of the road, and without apparent cause the horse started into a gallop. I spoke to him and tried to hold him in, but he only went the faster. In a few minutes he wheeled out ~bi the road and struck into the wood, and now he ran for dear life. I yelled with all my might and tugged at the rein till my arms ached, but 1 could neither turn hie head or slacken his speed. He flew on like the wind, selecting his course where the trdes were - fcwtheat - apart-tiew on, sweeping now to the right and now to the left, just as the passagfe through the forest seemed most favorable. <IU anon m I found the hone wm not

to bo stopped t tamed my attention in another direction, and very quickly it flashed upon me that the flying beast had been trained to just this kind of work. Like hontoa I had read of in Arabia, he would take his oourse for his master’s habitation, let it be where it would. The man with whom 1 had traded was one of the gang, and there must hare been another at the stable of the inn at ClayvQle who bad given my horse something to make him sick. These thoughts only passed through my mind with lightning-like rapidity,1 but they Were systematically arrauged as they carue, anil I knew that 1 had been trapped, and that the animal was bearing me to the haunt of the robbers. For a moment there was a desire to go tin and meet . the rascals, but that would only be madness. I must get out of the saddle somehow. Ha! the opportunity presented itself. Ahead 1 saw a stream of water. I withdrew my feet from the stirrups and placed my hand upon the pommel. One more leap and the horse’s feet touched the pebbly shore. With a sudden spring I lifted myself clear of the sa'ddle, and as the beast flet# from beneath me I dropped'into the brook without hurt of* any KTndT WTpbtlSflJlB I* scrambled up the bank, and when I’ reached the wood I stopped to consider. Th$ horse had stopped on the opposite side of the stream as though looking for his rider, and for a moment I thought of firing a pistol-ball at him. However, I did not waste my powder, and in a little while the animal turned and trotted off and was soon out of sight. Now, what should I do? Or course I

must get out ox tnewood; and to ad that safely I must go back by the way wo had .come, I,looked to’my pistdfs aad started. The sun gave me my ditection, so I could make no mistake. By-and-by I heard the tread of a horse ahead, and as qiiickly ■ as possible J found shelter behind a huge- pino tree. The horse came along within a hundred yip'ds yf me. The horseman was my honest countryman who feared 1 might be a robber, and the horse was the one I, bad .dwned. an hour' before! The animal still foamed at the mouth', but cantered along without apparent trouble. So the “pison” had not been so very deadly; and, moreover, the punching in tho gullet bad not been without its effect. Surely the plan had been a ente one, and the game had been adroitly played—only I had chanced to gain one effective play before their game could be finished. 1 remained behind the tree until the horseman_ disappeared and then moved on again. ’ Had I bean nearer to thie rascal I might have Intercepted him, but as it was the thing could not well be done. I hurried forward with all possible speed, and in a little white after I reached the hjghway I had the good fortune to be overtaken by a man in a wagon. When I first hailed him lie drew a pistol, and seemed disihclincd to stop; but in a moment more he recognized me as one whom he had sceu on the road beyond Clayville the day before, and finally pulled ud and addressed me. lagoon convinced him that I was an honest man, and he took me. in. He was bound to Booneton, and was glad that he had found safe companyV'-but I did notjtell him what I had discovered. I explained the fact of my being afoot by telling how my horse haa failed me by the wayside.: 1 reached Booneton by the middle of the forenoon, where I found two shrewd, intelligent-looking officers, to whom I communicated my secret, and together we laid a plan for finding the robbers. On the following day we'disguised ourselves and proceeded to that point in the road where the trained horse had turned off into the wood, but we found nothing. On the next day we went again, and this time we had the good fortune to meet my honest-look-ing horse-trader astride of the very animal that had carried me to the brook. He did not recognize me, and readily stopped when my companions halted him; and, as may be supposed, we captured him without much trouble. At firrt he expressed much surprise, but when he Came to recognize me he ceased his railing and professed a willingness to go with us where we pleased. We carrieahim to Booneton, and while tlie officers were taking him into the tavern I took good care that his horse was safely housed in the stable, The fellow gave his name as Mark Sackett, and swore that he knew nothing of any robbers or anything of that kind, and touching the affair of the horse, he declared that that was something which he could not explain. He said that- he woods, and as the horge I had left with him began to revive he had mounted and followed me. Beyond this we could get nothing from him. But I had an idea of my own, 1 believed that, if there was a haunt of Jobbers anywhere in the wood, the prisoner’s horse would take us there, and when I gave my opinion to the officers, they jumped at the conclusion. It was now only an hour past noon, and in less than an hour we had twenty men, well mounted and well armed, ready to follow us. The black horso was led out, saddled and bridled, and I took my seat upon his .back, and he behaved well as he started off. In fact, he seemed to like the company of the other horses, and to be proud of leading them. When we reached the wood I gave him the rein,“find he turned off just where he had turned with me before; blit he ^lid not dash away this time as he had done on that former occasion. Being iu the society of steady horses seemed to sober him down, and he led the way as a well-disposed pioneer should. On by the very path I had been before—across the brook where I had made my leap—and then away through the dark, deep wood beyond! By and by we came to another stream, upon the opposite side of which arose a high perpendicular bluff', and it appeared to us that there could not possibly be any passage that way. But the black horse pushed into the stream, and when he reached the other side he walked down a few rods in the shallow water, and then turning to the |right he entered a narrow pass which had been before invisible. carried into the

A little way through this curious passage, and we came into a deep, circular basin or hollow, walled in upon all sides by an almost perpendicular bank, and here, sitting beneath some small trees, we found six men. They started up when they saw us, but as our pistols were quickly out they did not offer resistance. One of them, however, made a dash toward a point in the wall directly behind my two companions, but he was quickly stopped, and as my eves followed the course he had taken I discovered an open place in the face of the bluff like the mouth of a cavern. I need not tell how we overcame the villains, nob need 1 transcribe the thousand and one wicked things thqy said. Suffice it for me to tell that we secured them, and that we then examined the opening in the bank which I had discovered. It proved, as I had suspected, to be the mouth of a large cavern, within which we found plenty of arms and ammunition, and also many valuables which had been taken from murdered travelers. The whole thing had happened very fortunately for us. Had the robbers been in the cave when we entered the basin, or had they been in possession of their firearms, we iqight nave had some hot work, for they were desperate characters; but we fairly caught them napping, And one thing more ; I discovered my two bank robbers in the party. We returned to Booneton, and Wter the rascals had been lodged in jail, the one whom we had captured upon the road, and with whom I had changed hprses, turned State’s evidence, and his

story was just about what I had expected. He said that the gang had been together for several years, operatating in different parts of the county. The horse had been trained by one of their number, who' had been an old oircus performer, and had been taught, when sent away from home‘without any breakfast, to dash off with the victim as he had done with me, This was done to avoid any bloody scene near the highway. But the victim was not always taken to their cavernous retreat When a prize was expected some of the gang stationed themselves along in the wood between the two streams, ready to stop the home , and cUspatch the entrapped traveler, Injt T whs assured that if I had been taken across the ffrbt brook, I should have met my death very quickly afterwards. They had-too accomplice at the inn. When a traveler was* “spotted” either at Clayviile or Booneton, one of their niutmberwas sent to look out for said traveler’s horse, who, by careful management had little difficulty in administering a sickening dpse to the animal. The rascals were tried, condemned and executed, and I retained possession search for him was in vain. '■ It’ia possible ‘ that the ‘intelligent brute unfastened his own halter strap and ran away, but I have chosen to give the matter a different solution, i believe he was stolen by the honest-looking countryman in whose hands I first found him, and who w»s set at liberty on accoupt of turning State’s Evidence.

The Chancellor’s Practical Joke. One day ho went out snipe shooting with a friend.. They had to traverse a verdant morass, into which Bismarck’s companion, a short, stout, ponderous gentleman, suddenly sunk up to his armpits.' After struggling some time to extricate himself ana reach firm ground, he called aloud for help; and seeing his friend picking his way slowly toward him, looking about all the while to see whether a stray snipe would get up. he fervently implored him to let the confounded snipe alone and drag him out of the vile bog-hole, the muck of which was fast rising to his mouth and nose. “My beloved friend,” answered Bismarck, with the utmost calm, “you will certainly never be able to scramble out of that hole; and it is quite impossible to save yon. It would pain me extremely to watch your futile struggle, or to see yon slowly stifle in that disgusting tilth. I’ll tell you what, my boy; I’ll spare you a protracted death agony through suffocation bv lodging a .charge of shot in your head. Thus shall you die with promptitude and dignity.” “Are you beside yourself?” shouted the other, making frantic efforts to wriggle out bf the swamp; “1 don’ t want either to suffocate or to he shot; so help me out in the name of three devilsi” Raising bis gun to bis shoulder, and taking cardful aim, Bismarck replied in mournful accents: “Keep still for one second. It will soon be over. Farewell, dear friend; I will tell your wife all about your last moments.” Stimulated to superhuman exertions by the danger threatening him so imminently, the unlucky sportsman contrived somehow to wrench himsqlf out of the mnd, and crawled on all fours to terra firma. As soon as he felt himself sale he burst into a torrent of vehement reproaches. Bismarck, smiling, listened to him awhile; then simply remarking: “You see I was right; every one for himself,?’ turned his back upon his infuriated companion, and strolled off leisurely to look for more snipe.—Dr. Busch's Life of Bismarck. * Alaska Not an Iceberg. The climate of Alaska, or such portion of it as will ever bo made of' much consequence, is far from being as arctic as is popularly supposed or the latitude would suggest. The Japan current, the Kuro biro, the great river of warm water flowing northward from the coast of Japan, is divided by the Aleutian Islands. A portion is deflected through Behring’s Straits—a fact which accounts for the absence of floating icebergs at a latitude where the Atlantia is* dotted with them—while the main stream is diverted to the east and reaches our coast near the head of Queen Charlotte Islands. Here it is again divided, one branch flowing south to f' re us the magnificent climate we enLand the other sweeping around the askan coast nortward and westward to modify the arctic severity of the temperature. Observations at Sitka for thirteen years show that the mean temperature ranged from 38.1 to 48 degrees, and the winter mean from £7.7 to 84.8 degrees. In January, 1880, the thermometer indicated 7 degrees below zero, and the native Russians asserted that for fifty years it had never been so cold, as it had been below zero but four times within tlmt period. During many winters cattle have been able to obtain food continually, and roses have been gathered from outdoor gardens at Christmas time. This, of course, only applies to the islands along the coast and the adjacent mainland. In the interior, beyond the wall of mountains that oppose the passage inland of warm ocean i winds, Old Boreas holds undisputed sway. Snow seldom falls at Sitka to a depth of six inches, and generally disappears quickly before the tnelting rains. The atmosphere throughout the year is extremely humid, the rainfall much exceeding that which has won for Oregon the title of “Webfoot.” To this is due the luxuriant growth of native grasses and'’ the dense' forests that fringe the coast and cover the numberless islands. — Portland (Or.) West Shore. Over-Fat Fowls.

There are some breeds that do not fatten as readily as others, while again there are those that become too fat on a small allowance of food. The Brahmas, Cochins, -Plymouth Rocks and Wyandottea are subject to excess of fat when fed exclusively cm com. In the winter the feed goes to heat, but in summer the extra quality of the feed is liable to cause them to cease laying instead of promoting it i As the fowls must have some grain, the best for the purpose at this season is oats, especially if they are ground. Wheat is excellent, but wheat is also fattening, though not so much so as com. A method in use by some is to give wheat at night ground oats in the morning, and plenty of green stuff during the day. Over-fat fowls are subject to apoplexy. If your fowls are very fat yon need not be ‘surprised if occasionally there is found a dead hen nnder the roost in the' morning. They often fall off the roost dropping dead,‘without previously giving any indication of disease in any shape. Over-fat cocks are useless, because clumsy and inactive. Chicks, however, may be fed as much as you desire, for while growing thoy convert all food into fat none and tissue, there-1 by demanding more for sustenance in proportion to age and size than adult fowls. Keep the fat hens on light diet, scanty allowance, and give them plenty of exercise. When a hen becomes toq heavy she will be good for nothing afterwards, unless taken in hand and put through a system of diet The light breeds, such as Leghorns and Hamburgs, seldom become too fat as their active hab,ts are in their favor in that respect The practice of keeping corn always where fowls can get it is a very injurious one and hhs done mure mischief than any other method of {feeding known. HFeed regularly, and endeavor to give enough and no more. Leave nothing to be trampled or wasted, and be as generous with water as with feed. —Farm, Field and Fireside,

USEFUL ABP gUGGESTTTE. —Medicine stains may be removed From silver spoons by nibbing them with soft tushes and soap suds.—AT. r. Herald. « —Wire cloth answers well as a protection to oora-cribs against rats and mice. It can be used as a lining to the walls and foors.—Trty Times. —An exchange says that not one fanner in. a hundred ' raises a good garden, yet nothing pays proportionately as well as a good garden. —An Indiana fanner says he keeps bells on several of the sheep of bis Cock, aqd though Ids neighbors all tttout him hnsfve had sheep killed by dogs, his flock has never been troubled. -‘—The best Way to fid a horse’s ears of vVaftsIs t»i rub them well with a Coarse cloth and then touch them with a'little nitrio acid every alternate day until you have administered three ap- i plications. A single drop Of the acid will be qiuite .sufficient for the smaller ones.—li. Y. Herald. —Notwithstanding that exeroise exerts gi es.t and whoiesome influence upon the horse, sitth advantage can not be! insured except by-providing that the exercise be judiciously apportioned to, the strength of the horse; that it bo of. a kind suitable to his nature; and that every requisite attention be paidffcim after esereiso.-*-C7eoeland leader, ( —Grease a plate with lard, and set it where ants congregate; place a few bits of wood so the ants can olimb on the plate easily; they will forsake any food for lard; when tne plate is well covered with them, topi it over a hot fire of coals; they 4mdrop into the' fire, and you can then reset die plate for anoth-i er catch. A few repetitions Will cleaiii them out.—Chicago Times.

—norno-maae sausages to De ooueq and cut in thin slices for tea or for breakfast, are: made of two parts, of beef, and one part of pork. Chop them very fine, and 6cason with blsek and red pepper, salt, a little sage, and summer savory, if you iitease. Put this into email hags made of stpi|t cotton cloth, boil and tiien hang in a dry, cool closet.untilyou wish to use.—V. Y. Post. —Open frjilt tart- Liine a plain mold about three inches deep with a short paste. Take .some stoned' cherties, sliced peaches, apricots,," nectarines and gooseberries; stir well in a bowl With Borne powdered sugar; pour intci the mould and bake in a quick oven. Crack the apricot stones, blanch the kernels and garnish the tart with. them. If tho fruit seems too dry pour a little clarified sugar over it before taking out of the oven, —Exchange. A Russian Legend of Sitka. Visitors to Sitka are at once attracted by the old castle on the: hill, once the home of tho Russian governor, who> ruled with rlraost despotic power, but now, alas! converted into a United States signal station. Once d- strayed' by fire aud once prostra ted by an earth-, quake, it was each time rebuilt. Signs of dilapidation are observable, but .its massive walls will probably stand for generations. The desolation of its appearance lends an added charm to the legends which hang about it One of these -traditions is to the effect that Baron. Romanoff, when occupying the ehstle as governor, had in his hobsehold a, niece, an orphan whose guardian he was, a most beautiful, young lady, as all traditionary maidens are or should be. She had bestowed her affections Upon a young lieutenant and when the Baron commanded her to wed a powerful prince, ’then stopping as a guest at the castle, she refused. , The Romanoff, concealing his displeasur e under a cloak of urbanity, gave the obstructing lieutenant an honorable command ana dispatched him upon an expedition tb some distance; During the absence of the lover the maiden yielded to the threats and demands of her stern uncle, and the wedding preparations were hastily m\de. The timid and heart-broken girl and the prince stood up before the priest, who solemnized the forced union, the marriage bells rang out thqjr mock peals of joy, and revelry held sway ip tne groat hall of the castUh Suddenly the young Lieutenant stood in the midst of the gay throng, his garments travel-stained and torn, and his countenance haggard with suffering. He paused before the unhappy maiden, took her hand in his, gazed into her face, and then upon; the ring the Prince had planed upon her finger. Without littering a word, and while tho assembled guests were staring with amazement and ‘curiosity, he drew a dagger from his belt and plunged it into her breast He rushed from the castle and leaped into the sea, to find rest in the bosom of the wateirs. On the anniversary of her wedding night, the spirit of the murdered girl can be seen passing through the castle halls, dressed in her rich brida.l robes, tears streaming from hei eyes as she presses her hand over the red wound in her breast. Often before n severe tempest she may be seen on the tower of the abandoned lighthouse, burning a light till dawn to guide the spirit of her lover on the stormy sea—Portland (Fre.) West Shore. The Righi Railway. The Righi Railway, on the Lake of Lucerne, may be referred to as a marvel of railway enterprise. To make a line tb the summit of a mountain five thousand feet high could certainly have been no ordinary undertaking. This railway, which will be briefly described, was opened in the year 1871, the terminus being at Yilznan, also the point ol landing for steamers. The railway goes in an almost continuous and direct line five miles long, not, as might be imagined, by a zigzag. route up the mountain, the view of the surrounding country extending in interest as the height increases. The route includes aD inclined tunnel two hundred aud twenty-live feet long, and a girdei bridge across the Schnurtobel Gorge. An extension of four miles from Kalthad has been added to the original line, proceeding along the ridge of the mountain, 6,280 feet above the level of the sea. The line, which is a single one with a live-foot gauge, consists of three rails; title center one is fitted with cogs. In other words, the middle rail is a ladder up which the engine climbs by means of cog wheels fitted below the floor. The engine has a very remarkable appearance, resembling very much a huge black hot-,

ue, aon wnen on jevei ground it leans on one side as if about to fall. Wheq ascending the incline the engine assumes an upright position. Only one carriage is attached; this is ten teet wide,, and somewhat resembles out tramway ears. There are nine seat; placed transversely, arranged to accommodate fifty-four passengers. In ascending the carrhtge is propelled instead of being drawn, but in the descent the locomotive precedes the carriage, and acts as a powerful brakfe. The train proceeds at a rate of about eight miles an hour. Great care is necessary to insure the road being kept in order, hence one mile of tne fine is under the superintendence of a man whose sole duty it 4s to precede the train and remove obstructions. The Righi has been described as a mass of (pudding, with millions of stones for plums; the danger is les t any of these stones should accidentally get into such a position as to prevent the proper working of the cog-wheel on the engine. A journey on this railway, is looked upon by many as quite an adventure. Timid folks are advised to sit in the middle of a seat, so as to avoid the sight of the gulf and precipices over iwhich the Uttd runs.—Evchmqe.

Tenths’ Department. A SMALL BOTS CONCLUSION. “If I had a eoach and horses eight, I would choose to ride on the farm-yard _ gate; ‘ The big rod gate with its five strongbara, Toe tipplest-top most up to toe stars! H swings, so slowly against the grass when into the meadow the cattle pass, I hold on tight, though I’m not afraid. When Jerry, the cleverest fellow made. Tugs it al owly ba-;k with •Come! This is tine way they go to Rome!' “ Yet bad I a coach and horses eight,' I’d be toffgrand-for a farm-yard gatol I should wear now jackets the whole year round. And never go barefoot Why, I’ll be bound The President hadn’t much tet’er fun Than a awy when his mother says: ‘You may run!’ 1 sitastrUetho farm-yard gate r i » And mate believe I am something greats * Tiiat I own the wood-lot the river, the mill, The house S iuire Elder bui'.t on the hill; ' That pair.of ponies Miss Elder tries, -And all the tally Elias buys: Or I’ve just come back from an Indian war (That's vhv thc hag’s on the -school-house for). It's going to be Fourth of July a week! The rusty old cannon will have to speak. “ If I fayed in coach and horses eight, I’d like t o drive it through such a gate: Ftnpid old fellows might sit inside. The coachman has the best of the ride, O, the way I'd manage the reins and whip —‘Steady there! even!’ and dot a slip. Wouldn'l Tinrrj and Walter stare? Captain Buncombe would twitch his hair? ‘He takei! the road as i took the sea: Beely, th eyonagater-te beating me.’ ” “ Whew I got a tumlife? You’re' rather small To balance yourself? or the gale a too tall?' Which is it, sonny?” He rubs his head; Gra-*s isn’t quite as soft as a bed: “ S’posed I was Oiying? Now, Jerry Cano, Wait till you bear a fellow complain,' I was thinking—well, thoughts get jumbled 80— If I bad a coach and horses, you know, Always harncsspd to take a. ride, 1 wouldn’t mind sitting sometimes insider’ r - * .‘V —WhU Awake,

BOUND IN HONOR. * ‘Thei^ is Jeanie Pauli. She has been visiting at Lulu Hardy’s,” said Gonistance Stacy’to Eleanor Ames. “Now we sliall fihd out whether Lnlu’s father is as stern as he looks, and why Mrs. Hardy always has such a sad, Woebegone face.” ' vi* The two girls 'joined Jeanie, who greeted the ns very pleasantly. They walked ondogether, and~presently Mias Constance, bent On gaining information, inquired after Lulu. ■ • • “Lulu is well, aud sent her love t<r all tlie! girls,” said Jeanie. “And did yon enjoy yourself in Aldington ?” asked Eleanor. “Very much, indeed. Lulu’s home is lovely, and she is so very thoughtful of her friends. It seems as though she can not do enough for a guest.’.’ “Isn’t her father awfully queer and cross ? ” pursued Constance. “ He frowns so in church, and never seems to be enjoying himself. I cannot imagine how you dared to stay in the house with him.”,': Jeanie’s face was quite a study ; her dark eyes almost flashed as she turned to Constance, saying: “Mr. Hardy is a kind good man, add Lulu’s father besides; but if he were' what you seem to fancy, do you suppose I would_tell yon 2_I could not b • so mean. , Mother has always told me that what I see or hear in a friend’s hotisc is sacred, and that to chatter things which a friend might not wish to have known would be unworthy of a lady.” At the corner the girls separated, Constance and Eleanor looking rather ashamed, and Jeanie walking down her own street with a very stately step, holding her head high. That she should be supposed capable of tale-telling was a great annoyance to her, for her mother had trained her to be honorable. Children, dear, may 1 whisper to you that we are sometimes bound in honor not to gossip about persons or occurrences, even when nobody has forbidden us to speak ? Should you happen to be sitting, yon little Susie, or you, W ilier, as quiet as a mouse, in * eorner.of the parlor with your book, and mamma comSg in with a friend holds a conversation not meant for your ear, you should either get up and go away, or if yon can not go away, you sboidd forget all about what has been said. Above all, never go around looking wise and dropping mysterious hints, which curious people may take up, as pegs to hang their questions on. Curiosity, when it leads you to study carefully God’s wonders in stones and flowers, is a good thing-^Itis a good thing where it sends' you\to the library to find out everything the cyclopedia can tell you about a subject. When it is only an idle desire to peer into somebody’s home life, it is a very bad thing. In fact, I hardly know of any way in wh*ch trouble is so surely nwtde in this queer world of ours; as by foolish people who go from one person to another thoughtlessly carrying wicRtjdJitfle.bits of gossip. If Nanny or Lucy tell you that Maggie says you are awkward, or slow, or vajn, or any other thing which is uncomplimentary, you are not very likely to feel pleased with Maggie. She should not have spoken unkindly about' you, for her part; bnt if you will blame any one, the needless talkers who carried her comments are worse than she. The Bible says tMt: “A whisperer separateth chief friends.” It was true in the old Bible times, and it is just as true to-day. A private and confidential note should never be shown to a second pair of eyes; If you ever have reason to think that a friend does not wish a matter to be repeated, make it your business to be silent. “By 4hy words shall thou be justified. and by thy words shall thou be condemned.” This is another bit of wisdom from the best of books. We can not always control our thoughts, children, but we ean control our lips.— Margaret E. Saitgsler, »» S. S Times. Money as a Means of Happiness. Joe Bradley, a boy at our school, wrote a composition the other day, and one thing he said in it was this: “ There is nothing, in the world that can give a person so much happiness as plenty of money.’” Now ,1 always felt that plenty of money was a good thing, and wished I had a pile of it, bnt when I tried to renmjnber all the rich people living in otutstown I could think of only two whb seemed happy. Some are sick; some are afraid of" thieves; some don’t seem to know how to pass away their time, and one man is troubled for fear that lie may become poor. Then I thought of our two nearest neighbors. Mr. King has a large factory, and employs several hundred workmen. He lives in a handsome House, and dresses well, and, has the best in the market on his table; but his face always wears a look of care, and he never seems to take any time for enjoyment.

He has only one son, George, who associates with low fellows, and is a constant cause of trouble to his father. Yet Mr. .King is called one of the richest men in town, and appears to hare everything that money can give him, but he certainly doesn’t seem very happy. Our next neighbor, in the other direction. is Mr. Lee. He is a farmer and wears coarse clothes. But be is industrious and saving, and his wije is a good manager. • His house is very plainly furnished. ” But his children are obedient and respectful, and they always stand among the first in their classes at school. 1 don’t know a family anywhere that seems happier than they are. In these two cases Joe’s idea doesn’t seem to be true. While I was thinking over the matter Uncle John came to visit ns. So I asked him about it, anc] this is what he said: “It is true that money can be made the means of great happiness. If a per6dh hw plenty of money he can not only

occupy a handsome house and live in mod style, but he can also travel, buy books, help those who need assistance, and he can obtain with it every earthly comfort But it takes a great deal of judgment to spend money wisely. There are some persons Who consider that their money was only given them in trust and they look about them to see where they can use it to the best advantage in relieving suffering and in aiding worthy objects. Many persons lay aside a certain proportion of their income yearly for this purpose. “1 am glad to notice, bv the papers, that the number of people who endow charitable and educational institutions is increasing. More persons too, seem inclined to carry out their plans themselves, while living, tjian to wait till their death before the money can begin its good work, "i In such cases, money is made to perform its true office as a* servant.

“But, on the other hand, money can become the means of great unhappiness. A person may occupy an elegant house, and be doing a large and profitable business; but this frequently involves great risks, which, in many cases, burden the mind with care and anxiety. ; “ When aman gives all his energies to money-making, he ..loses, in a great measure, his power to sympathize with others; so .that he .is thereby not only unfitted to himself enjoy the pleasures of home and social life,'but even his presence interferes with the happiness of those by whom he is surroiffaded. “Then too, the wealth of parents often leads their children to imagine that they need do nothing but enjoy life’s pleasures. By this means extravagant tastes are acquired, and habits of dissipation frequently follow. “ In these cases, money is perverted from its true offiee, and becomes a master. So you see that,- to one who has a worthy object in life, money wisely spent will be of great assistance in promoting it. " But to one who has no such object* money in abundance becomes a temptation to ’evil, which it will promote with even greater'power. Therefore, money can be either a benefit or a curse, according as it is made a servant or becomes a master.” I thought over Uncle John’s words, and they gave me some new ideas. ■ 1 always used to; had plenty of money would who happy because they had the means of getting almost everything they wished. But now 1 look at it. in a different way. Money seems to- bring a good many cares and responsibilities with it, because it possesses so much power for good or evil, and it must require a great deal of wisdom to spend it to the best advantage. I hope that, hereafter, I shall always have some worthy object in view, and if I ever become rich that I shall feel as the people do that Uncle John spoke of, and consider that the money was only given me in trust to do good with, and to add to the comfort of others. Then the money would produce double happiness, for it would not only give comfort aud pleasure to the needy and suffering, but it would bring to me more real happiness than I could1 get from it in any other way. — Golden Days.

The Difference. Some fifty years ago two voung men began business in New York on their own account. One had served an apprenticeship—it was the proper and descriptive word in those days—in a drygoods house. - The other had graduated from Yale College, and was the son of a rich man, who supplied most of the capital on which the young firm ran their small dry-goods store. Among the customers was an old peddler from Wheeling, Va., who, having become attached to the young clerk, had followed him into his own store. He was wealthy, and ran a number of Seddling wagons throughout the West. ut he dressed as he did when he himself drove a one-horse peddler’s wagon. The partner, who was fresh from a theoretical school, had not yet had his unpractical ideas corrected by experience. His pride, irritated at the presence of the roughly-dressed man in the store, prompted him to remonstrate with his more courteous and sagacious partner at the degradation of having such a rough man about the store. But the protest of a foolish pride was vainly urged against the good sense of the senior, who had learned courtesy and business in the rough-and-tumble life of a hard-worked clerk. He treated the old peddler with the same attention that he paid to the best-dressed customer. The result was that he bought largely, wisely, and always paid promptly. But liegave his confidence to the “eleurk,” and not to the “graduate.” He understood tpe value of experience. • 'Jg The incident recalls a remark once made to. the writer by a journalist of experience. “What sort of work,” he asked, “are those fresh from the schools in the habit of doing when employed on a daily newspaper?” “Very good, after six month’s training; it takes all of that time to get the nonsense out of them. Then they are willing to learn,'and their trained talents enable them to do tirat-class work. At first, however, they know everything, and consequently make many blunders. A word to the wise graduate should be sufficient. After the best school education he can secure, - he is to accept experience as his last teacher. J The school and experience arealike parts oi education.— Youth's Companion. The Ruined City in Arizona. *The- vuined cliff city discovered in Arizona last summer occupied the sides of a canyon which has been christened Walnut Canyon. It is an immense fissure in the earth, with nothing above the general level of the country to indicate its existence to the" traveler until he stands upon the sides of its almost precipitous urink. The sides have been gullied by storms and torrents, leaving shallow, cave-like places of great length at different heights, along the bottom of which, when the ledge furnishes a sufficient area, dwellings in groups or singly were built! The village was about three-quarters of a mile in length, and consisted of a single row of houses, the common rear wall being th4 living rock, while the sides and fronts were of large square stones laid in clay. A narrow street or path extended along the front Similar villages extended alone

the canyon for a distance of hve miles. Although many domestic implements were found, nothing was discovered which indicated the character, of the people who once inhabited! them. There were no weapons of war, temples or idols, hieroglyphics or pictures. There was nothing to identify them with the uncivilized races of the present day, and though the wide extent of the ruins indicate the existence twice of allied races'covering large portions of the present Territories of Arizona, New Mexico and Utah, as well as Northern Mexico, their origin and history constitute an unsolved problem. Four hundred years ago, when first discovered, they weje, as now, vacant ruined.—Boston Journal. and —A medical man undeitakes to explain nervousness, saying that it arises from inheritance, indigestion, atmospheric conditions, and the exactions of modem life. He maintains that the rapid evaporation in our dry out-door air and our over-heated rooms hightens the rapidity of the processes of waste and repair in the brain and nervous system

r---— -:—T****" "*V A (SPtcut from Waltham, Ktn., says that 1,500 Watches are now made daily at Waithan, and they are better in quality and lower in price than ever before. Tni court room—The front parlor.— Th» Dial. ,, mesvtcaX testimony. Burlisoton, Vt, December IT. JfsS. X desire to call attention to the grew relief to bo derived from AllcoCK’s Porous Plasters, in chronic bowel troubles, enlargements of the liver, and the painful condition of the spleen in malaria. No local agent can exceed their efficacy In absorbent had anodyne properties. Wm. B. Belter, M. D. Montclair, N. J., December 18,1883. It affords me great pleasure, to recommend AntcecK,s Porous- Plasters and Brakdretu’s Vegetable Pills'as agents possessing great healing efficacy. The world-wide fame of these remedies is such as to render it utmost superfluous to add a word or commendation from the medical faculty to increase their reputation. Wm. P. Stbictlahd, M. D., LL. IX ,

. 341 EASTTKBKrvKKCOKD 8t.»I New York City, DelSsniber 18. 1?S!. f I have found AtidoctM Porous Pus> TERS very useful in those special diseases of women where anteinja irthe cause of so much local pain ana disturbance. Their combination is an exCelientdotfe; the best; yet made. to ujy knowledge, and have always been found reliable. A. #. Lesser, A. M.,M. D. 95 Jackson Sx., Brooklyn, N. Y., I ! — -- _ December 1", If83. f Being familiar with the stimulating,heap lug and anodyne properties of Ai.lcock’s, Porous Plasters, 1 commend them as * most valuable agent in the class of diseased for which they are intended. The stimulating action when worn over the gastric region, materially aids in restoring strength and- energy to digestion and the consequent building up of tissue ami restoring tone to the general system. - j ■ ■ ’ H, Armgardt, M. D. The gate that turns with the tide—The delegate. -AT. 1'. Jovrnnt Twentjr-fiTO Per Cent. Stronger than any Other Butter Color. BURLINGTON, Vt., May 3d, 1882. thereby certify that I have examined the Butter Color prepared by Wells, Richardson &X'o.,_(md that the same is free from alkali or any other substance injurious to health; that I have compared it with some of iho best of the ether Butter Colors in the market and find it th be more than twenty-five per cent, stronger in color than the best of the others. I am satisfied that it is notliablsto become rancid, or in any way to injure the blitter. I have examined it after two months’ free exposure to tbo air in a place liable to large'changes of temperature, and fouud no trace of’ rancidity, while other kinds similarly exposed became rancid. A. H. BABIN, Prof. Chemistry, University of Vermont. Every one has a right to drop a line to a fish.--Picayune.__ “ Mr. Brooks, near Albany, was hopelessly afflicted with Cancer. It had eaten through his nose into his mouth and throat. The time of his death was only a question of a very short time. He prayed fordea^h, his suffering wffS"sn greiU: 8. S. S. l*ns had a wonderful effect- on him. His improvement is so great that we all feel sure of his being perfectly cured in tintfe.” W. H. GILBERT, Albany, Ga. Any man can make money—go.— IFAffaftall Times. _ Papili.on Blood Cure cures all diseases originating in any impairmemt of the blood, as Pits of Epilepsy,. Anaemia, Hick Headache, and Female Weaknesses.

The man who was ashamed to look hiswatch hi the face probably got it on tick. Skinny Men. ells’ Health ilenewer” restores health 8m) rigor, cures Dyspepsia,$1. Civility is dear to everybody, and yet it costs nobody anything. Whoopino Cough, that dreadful affliction, will be relieved at once with Papillcn Cough Cure. Tka;t wonderful catholicon known as Lydia K. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound lias given the lady a wosld-wide reputation for doing good. It is a living spring of health and strength. “ Sough on Corns.” 15c. Ask for it. Complete cure,hard or sof t corns,warts,bunions. Piso’s Cube for Consumption does not dry up a cough; it removes the cause. “ Mother Swan’s Worm Syrup,” for feverishness.worms.oonstipatiou.tastedess. 25c It is a cold day when the chunk of ice doesn’t get left. ■ _■ •'Rough on Coughs,” 15c., at Druggists. Complete sure Coughs, Hoarseness, Sore Throat. Glenn’s Sulphur Soap Is simply without parallel for wholes oneness, and in its purifying effects. “ Buchu-paiba.” Quick, complete cure, all ; Kidney anaUrirarv Diseases, $L annoying 1 THE MARKETS. NEW YORK. June®!. 1884. 6; n i m 88 IK) 34)40 an 7 oo 0 Uli 0 6 6*j* m. 87 CATTLE—Exporter. COTTON—Middling. fc’LOUR—Good to Choice;...., WHEAT-No. 2 Red.... I..... CORN—No. 2.... _ OATS—Western Mixed.. PORK—New Mess.. 16 50 0 16 75 ST. LOUIS. COTTON—Middling..... 11 BEEVES—Exports. 6 60 Pair to Good_... 6 00 HOGS—Common to Seloot.✓.. 4 75 SHEEP—Fair to Choice. 3 00 FLO U R—XXX to Choice. 3 20 WHEAT-No. £ Winter. 1 1MR0 Not. 3 CORN—No. 2 Mixed. OATS—No.3.... Kl'E—No.2. 11%. 6 75 6 35 6 20 4 50 >4 45 1 Oo TOBACCO—Lugs. ..... Medium Leaf__ St A 52:40 30y,e 56 @ 8« 0 10 00 9 Ml 0 12 00 31)4 00 HAY—Choice Timothy........ 13 00 © 13 50 0 17 0. 16K 0 15 25 0 I 0 : 3% 0 0 0 6 65 5 40 4 50 5 60 5 50 8514 BUTTER—Choice Dairy. 15 EGGS—Choice. • 10 PORK—New Mess...- 15 00 KAOON-Oifcar Rttr... LARD—Prune Steam.. 6% CHICAGO. CATTLE—Exports. 6 30 0 HOGS—Good to choice. 5 05 0. SHEEP—Good in choice. 4 60 FLOUK-Winter. 4 45 ~—smtB*....410 WHEAT—No. 2 Spring_.... 85 No. 2 Red.. CORN-No. 2.....I...., 52 OATS-No. 8.,. , POKK-New Mess.. 18 25 0 19 0J . KANSAS CITY. CAWIE—Native Steers,... .. 4 00 0 HOGS—sales at.. 4 70 0j WHEAT—No. 2. 0 CORN—No. 2 mixed... 43140 OAXS-N®. 2. 0 NEW ORLEANS. FLOUR—High,Grades... 5 15 0 5 6ft COKN-White. .i.. 0 70 OAT’S—Western.. 0. 42 HAY—Choice ..... .. 17 00 0 18 00 53 3114 5 40 500 7414 26% 16 00 9)4 .</U% PORK—Mess.. BACON—Clear Rib.:. i,.’COTTON—Middling:............ —. . _ LOUISVILLE. WHEAT—No. 2 Red..95 CORN—No. 3 Mixed. OATS—Mixed Western. PORK—Mess.. .... «|T6 50a BACON—Clear Rib. . 0^-3% COTTON—Middling.. 0 11% 0 1 00 *67 35 E°l!

[«] GBttUNREMEftf RheumatisreuNeuralgia, Sciatica ksli^O, BkIkIw, ImSkH *»» Throat. SwelHnefeHlwttgaB Sinus, SraMli lt»«* 15 to An-1 AU OttKH- BODH.-? S>ATBfB onc__—_ , :jotUbTl>rugg1ataaadJPeelciB fffftialtfic. Fifty Cent* a bottle. Di rcetiona In H UnpiMM. TSi cHAKin a voejetER co., fSp-.te-eeore to a- taait * oo. ■Hh,H1mmi>Tlfil ,TT 1 ft HAIR Who-emic and retell. Send for price-net. Goodaeent C. O. D. Wise made to order. B. BURNHAM, « State Street. <- S6S r **°*’^® a>°d 'x>»«-d «w »lire Young Men or Itullea In cadi wanly. to take ordei*. for the f unssrS a, Mini, ?, V. H5054* & 00., Cfeitejo, IU, i BLAINE AND LOGAN

Adv MW I - “Jt has become so common tojmgta article, In an elegant, interesting i “Then ran it into i that we avoid all such, 4,1 And simply cell attention _ __ of Hop Bittefs in as plain, honest i possible, j ■ “ToInduce people . - . -To give them one print, which eo proven their, value Uiat Uaty will never use anything else.” “ -a ‘ Tnu BE**®* so favorably noticed *u a. Religious and secular, is oZ*T,&,!?rsaK -W**1W**| “ f hrre i« mr denying the virtues «f thp ltd plant, and tho proprietors of Hop Bittershav shown grout shrewdness and ability • * “ In compounding a medicine whose t_, are so palpable to every one s observation." Did Sho Di*P . -no! .31 s 'i “Site lingered and suffered along, pining away all the time for ye^js,” “ Tint doctors doing her no good “ Ami at last was cured by this Hop Bitters the papers say so much about.” M Indeed! -Indeed f* .. ,*•<; — How thanhfql we sliould be for that medicine.” ‘. • —>* • *“ j

A Daughter’s Misery. “Eleven years our daughter.suffered on a bed of misery, ‘'Froih'a complication. Of kidney, liver, -rheumatic trouble and Nervous debility, . w«ai "Hut.no relief; - ~ ’ “And now stieis restored to tm in good health by as.simple a remedy as Hop Bitters, that she had shunned »r years before using it”-^T hk BAWifirs. 1 . father Is Getting WelL "My daughters say: \ “ How much better father is since be used Hop Bitters.” F ‘‘Ho is getting well after lifelong suffering from a disease declared hicurabto” “ And we are so gUd that lie Used yoor Bitters.”^(L.\by of Utica. N. Y. t#”None genuine wifhout A bunch of green Hops on toewhito label. ^ St>uull)Jt|f jjhgel8GDOUS stuff with name. •Hop." EDUCATIONAL. LEARN TELEGRAPHY LLHniV lEliGVnNriil .iwt.ttanv iik£t Chance ever ottered. »Ad. J. 1). Lluuv»N, Mgr., hedaiia, M°* YALE LAW SCHOOL. 10 Instructor a D| A IN B -v LOOA.V. Ursl SlnfPortnill«, 15c. each: i*»r Itiu,. by mull. Agents wanted. ti.K.-Perlno.Piih’r, MJi Nassau St.,N.Y. THE BEST IS CHEAPEST.” «ns ■ i« vnc.nrco ■ • ■SiTHBESHEfisaa: (Suited to all sections-' Write forFBEK Illus. Pamphlet LDd Prices to the Aulimsn & Jay lor c». *Iwu<ie^»oijia. IAfA WTTrVA*<'n’s f«r the Authorized Of* If All ^ - Octal i Ampalgn BOOH. BLAINE AN13 LOGrAN. Provtteor oi thi! |T. n » comp! PEOPLES PlfllM O., ' ■atr-.-f-i* * - "Anakesis"?^""^ ........... relief, and la an injallibt: effre fur Plica* Price SI. from druggists, o* • sent prepaid by itlnll. samples freet Ad. “A^AKEBJS/* . Box 24M. Near York.

□EE 6VRES WHERE ALL ELSP FAILS. agood. I Beet Oongh Syrup. Tastes good. Use in time, Hold by druggists. CONSUMPTION.^ CANCER AURO'RA l LL. v. • [ I If S T ITU T3S, Esiablfshcd. 1872; Incorpoijtf ed, . ISSO. For the Cure of C | Tumors, Ulcers, SIN Dll and Skin Disk asks, without the age of knife or Loss or Blood, and little painty For -— •••-- — : cs. a dan INFORMATION. CIRCULARS AND REFRRKNCXS. addriSS DR. F. L. POND. Aurora. Kane Co., 111. WEW ELASTIC TRUSS Has & Pad <UfTerudt from at* others, is cup tthape^ wf tb Self Adjusting Ball in center, adapts itself to all positiona of the body, white the ball in the cud presses back the intestines just as a Iposi while the ball in thee _ back tho intestineL _- person docs with the fingerWith light, pressure the Hernia is held securely day and -,~***‘' —* —' cure certain. ' 11 is easy. durable and night, and a radical cure certain. lth* easy, dsral cheap. Sent by mail. Circulars free. ECCLESTON TRUSS CO., 00 Dearborn St., Chicago, III.' 6,000 AGENTS WANTED!! DOUBLE QUICK!!! To sell the First Authentic Biographies of BLAINE AND LOGAN! By H. J. RAMSDKLL, Blaink's tf-rsonal friend AND FkJCFERESCE AS AUTHOR. The PEOlT.fc i)K* MANl) this work, because the most lfcliable. Complete, Interest lug and Richly Illustrated. it contains nearly 600 p|>. flue steel portraits. Sketches of former Presidents. Election Laws, r tics, etc. Will be first out, sell fastest and pay biggest profits: Keicare of unreliable catchpenny bonkn. F«r the best book ami best terms,write at ones to Hubbard^Uros., 51 W. Fourth St., tMuciaaitK O, P.S.—Outfit are ready «Mwd 30 •. for one and ware time. A CURE ALL. but as a tonic and health and for Blood and Skin Diseases, and tra pendent on impure or impoverished blood. Specific is without a rival. rmu ubi. , Si mR •‘“'Toi :lsui my family physician, was given up. to jfiet recommended SwIft’8,Spc<tfie, anj as gratifying as H waa miraculous, My cm well, all traces of the disease is gone.-and 'as a pig.” J. J. K1 KKLANt/, : '* - f \ _ Mlnden, RuskCfuntf, Texas. Our Treatise on Blood and 5 kin Diseases mailed fret to applicants. - r ; r » ; • ! THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO.,^ * Drawer 3. Atlanta, Ga. 23d St., between 6th and 7th * *11 j baby six months old brake out with some kind of skin humor, and after being treatei^p ve months by le. The drug[he result wa* IT. T. Office. 159 W. _ Area; Philadelphia Offlcc, 13)| Chcitnut St PAPILLON “A CINCINNATI DRUCCIST REPORTS." Mr. Ferd. Zucnkeler, Druggist, Np. 6S6.Vine Street, Cincinnati, O-, writes under date April 7t& 1584# 1 have obtained four additional verbal testimonials for * * The Big Four’’ Peerless Paplbon Remedies, ffom my cua^-« tomere. Mr. Louis Orator says, Pavilion Blood Cure works like a charm. * Geo. C. HtKfcrrfels, of Bethlehem suburb, says: “Papillon BJ,ood Cure is a great relief to him, and is glad that hctiaS at1 Idst found something that will do ktm>goo<L” ^llm a E- Relshark, No. 302 McMicken Avenue, praises Fapuron Skin Cure ▼cry highly* She has nmth three,*##** Mr. Adam Kiefer, cor. 3rd and Martin Sts., has used two bottles of PaplUon Catarrh Cure, and say*. * ‘ he Is positive it will cure him if he keens it up,'1 which he s. do." Mr: Reule, of whom I wrote in i says, **I will r last letter. said to mo this evening that your “Papillon Catarrh Cure is a good remedy, because hedms glvea it a fair trial and has obtained most excellent results thereUQm." t , A U' jaw* ti*i> . :oi “NOTHING LIKE IT FOR RHEUMATISM." Mrs. RlUa Stcyens, No. 3081 S<nit, Brarborn Street says that she Used Papillon Sklu Cure4 Mr Inflammatory Rheumatism. with the hdphtasumfcftts. It reduced the kUammatlOj, and aweUing, and relieved the intense pain In l^ss fhkri two hhn turs ; she cordially recommends it to all rheumatic sufferers. I tih applied hf rubbing the*joints andjaftectod parts .wkh the remedy for some mo me n t s, thepalnCeaaec^wmo^^ nstant ly •

k! DN EY-WORT KIDNEY DISEASES AND ' ' ’ LIVES COMPLAINTS. oU »«■««>.. it «<■* n» a* r.ivKit, bowkls . K1PXETS at tts Mm* t it eleense* the i ‘ nary Diimsea, Biliousness. Jaundice. CoaatbNN Mm, PEes, or !In skronltum, Xlfen£la?]r!i£ IT WDU. tgULT CUB-H OQmrw*m'p55tornk By sensing TR1S ACTION of all the snd functions, CLEANSING o* THOUSANDS OF OASIS term, of these terrible have b»e&«oiok]y ysus.s^aa^js.’aCiin.to,, ▼*. puty AlwwecS* km. iMi.i,!U'nvi«i-n A. N. K. B„ OSS WHKX WHITING TO : ADVERTISERS please say you saw the' advertisement la this paper. Advertisers like to know when and where their advertisement* lit i fayinsbem,