Pike County Democrat, Volume 24, Number 6, Petersburg, Pike County, 30 June 1893 — Page 2

CHICAGO ANARCHISTS. A. Monument to the Memory of the "Martyre" Unveiled at Waldheim—The Addresses .at the Cemetery—The Rxerelse* Carried on Mainly in Foreign Tongues— The Speeches of a Very Mild Order— ■inscription of the Monpment. Cuicaoo, June 20.—The unveiling of ♦he granite monument to the memory of the five anarchists, August Spies, Albert Parsons, Adolph Fificher, Louis Lingg and George Engel, which took place jesterday afternoon at Waldheim cemetery, was an impressive ceremony. More than 2,500 persons assenfbled at the burial ground to stamp once more ■with their approval the sentiment and ■actions of the men whom the state of .Illinois found guilty of treason and |>ut to death. The crowd was orderly and the few policemen under whose .protection the ceremony took place found little to do beyond keeping sympathizers with anarchy in line as they surged through the gates of the enclosure. It was a crowd of Germans, Poles and liohemians. Scarcely an American was to be seen, and the exercises were carried on mainly in foreign tongues. £ The character of the speeches could not be called incendiary, but rather that of mild protest against the exist

mg' order of the government, the ringing oratory of the days when the •red flag waved where it pleased was gone, and all the enthusiasm the orators could bring from their auditors was an occasional burst of applause, not very certain in its sound. A marked feature of the oratory, however, and one which was most liberally applauded, was a showing of strong animosity towards Judges Gary and Grinnell and other officials of the law who had been prominent in the celebrated trial. The addresses at the grave were preceded by a short parade in the city. The entire ceremony was nnder the auspices of Matthias Schmidenger, president of the Pioneer and. Support association, which has made the monument a possibility, and which, ever since the celebrated execution in the yard of the Cook county jail, has ^ supported the widows and children of ^ the five anarchists. M. Schmidenger opened the exercises •with a few temperate remarks. The monument was formally tendered to* the association by Sculptor Weinert. Then came the English speech by William Holmes. lie said in part: We Invite the noble lords and ladles from •other lands who are sojourning in our city palaces, whose titles to great possessions are founded upon tyranny and robbery, who proudly boast that they nor their ancestors have ever been contaminated by labor or trade; we invite these aristocrats to view the monument which loyal hearts and ready hands have raised up. Let them gaze upon the stern figure ■ of their Nemesis and read in her defiaut attitude the prophecy of labor’s deliverance. Long have they feasted and fattened on the toil wrung from laboring poor, but the days of their triumphs are already numbered. D We invite also the rich of our own country and oity, the wealthy toadies to European aristocracy, who have recently given us a practical demonstration of their itching for * royal recognition. We ask those recreant Americans to look ■upon the work which the friends of these murdered men have dedicated. Our comrades petitioned them, appealed to them, almost prayed to them to hearken 'to the agonized ^jgiitjgiof the oppressed poorest they heeded ~1J%iot Vhe petition, the prayers dot the warnings MSf$#ose whom they had wronged. There will come a time when they will remember the warning prophecy of one whom they strangled. Dr. Ernest Schmid; the veteran socialist of Chicago, delivered the Ger>msn oration. The speaker refrained from any direct criticism of the proceedings in the anarchist trial, but he gave a very striking phrase in adverting to the close trial of Jean Palas, oi Florence. 'Hhe red hood which enveloped the monument was drawn aside by young Albert Parsons, who was directed by his mother, the wid#w of Albert Par

SODS. The design is striking. Upon a massive surface, supported by a firm base, rests a rectangular plinth. Directly in front of the plinth stands a heroic group in bronze. The sentiment embodied in this group "'as found by the • sculptor in Freiligrath’s poem, “The Revolution.” The central figure* in the group represents a woman in an attitude expressive of defiance. Her right arm, with 1 clenched hand, is crossed over her breast, while the left hand is placing a laurel wreath upon the btow of her champion, who lies stricken at her feet- Beneath the form of the prostrate man fronds and sprays of palms are strewn. The woman’s figure stands out in bold relief, full of • expression, and is powerfully conceived and artistically executed. On the base of the monument the last words of August Spies are inscribed: " The day will come when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you are threat ening to-day.” f A BAD CREVASSE. All Efforts to Close the Break Twenty Allies Below Baton Rouge Abandoned. New Orleans, June 25.—The Rescue ‘•crevasse, 20 miles below Baton Rouge, is the most serious of the season. Efforts were made to close it, hut ;as the levee was built of sand vand yielded very quickly to the encroachment of the water, the break quickly widened. The crib -work has been washed away, and all the work has been abandoned. The ■crevasse will probably run until the river goes down. The Mississippi Valley railroad traffic is seriously interrupted. Inclines will, however, probably be built. Many ' fine plantations will be overflowed, and the property loss will be large. A Bad Wreck. TtocuESTER. N. Y., June 25.—Two ’freight trains were wrecked by a rearend collision on the Central Hudson railroad a few miles west of this city. The four tracks were blocked. Nearly all of the train crews were injured. All Ancient Spinster. Chicopa Falls, Wis., June 25.—Miss JVngeline De Marie died here last night. She had proofs in her possession showing that she was 107 years of age and that Thomas RandaU, in his history of the Chippewa vaUey, claims that shn is 321 years of age. f

ECAUSE the early morning cracker's cracking like possessed. If any man’s complaining that he’s broken of his rest; If any fellow’s crusty over so much bu« and flzz And the shouting and the popping—

let him tell us who he is: We'd like the chance to acorn his poor, unpatriotic spirit, Who listens to the rumpus and who doesn’t like to hear it. Hurrah for all the noisy boys that riot everywhere With cracker and torpedo and with hubbub and with blare; \ ' For every country lad who brings a rosy country maid To. city sights and soda-water, peanuts and parade; For every workman Idling by exactly as he pleases:* For every flag that shakes itself against the buoyant breezes! Hurrah for every orator that roars ^with might and main. Declaring that we lead the world and swearing it again: Who never mentions drawbacks, but with allegiance proud Believes in Yankee giory_ and yells it to the ejowd! Hurrah for independence and the swagger of the nation That dares to snap its lingers at the rest of all creation! Star-Spangled Banner, oh, and Yankee Doodle* doo; Hail Columbia, Happy I*and: Red, White and Blue! Let us have it once a year, boisterous and free, Vaunting it and flaunting it tor all the world to see. Who’s afraid of ridicule? Who’s ashamed of bluster? ' Let us, just for one short day, polish up our luster! —Mrs. George Archibald, in Judge.

HE chil d’s name was unquestionably Simeon. The man who had brought him to A m moniaville tavern called him tbat, and the boy had

responded to the name in a sort of dull fashion, yet with some faint glimmer of intelligence. What his surname was no one learned; for the man abandoned him and disappeared before anyone had become interested in the question, and the boy appeared wholly unable, or sulkily unwilling, to answer any inquiries about himself. There was no police or detective force in this little hamlet, and the one constable who was expected to solve all dark mysteries and make all arrests in Animoniaville never learned anythin? about th» past history of this child. Owing to some peculiarity discovered in his disposition, the boy was nicknamed "Sulks;” and as “Simeon Sulks” he was known forever after. He was about five years old when he was brought • to Ammoniaville, and he was a plain, dejected-looking child, not particularly bright. Life must have already become serious to him, for he shrank distrustfully from everybody who approached him. fie never confided in anyone, nor became attached to any human creature. No one thought of adopting him; but he lived on at the tavern because no one was sufficiently interested in his presence to drive him away. He slept somewhere in the building—generally curled up in a corner of the kitchen—and he ate such scraps as the servants, chose to give him His wardrobe consisted of Odd pieces of clothing which the guests of the inn chanced to give him in payment for the small services he rendered them He was not apt at anything, but in time he learned boot-blacking, and he could hold a horse long before he could hold a fork. In course of time he had the oddest collection of old clothes that ever disgraced a garret. However, when he was twelve years old he had managed to collect what answered for a suit of boy’s clothing, and, clothed in these habilimentsT/he drifted into the Ammoniaville di^tfgct school.

AmmoniaviUe was not a prosperous place; indeed, it was rich in nothing but endless, unceasing gossip and nicknames. It had at first been named Hartshornville, in honor of a certain Mr. Hartshorn, who had founded the village and who owned the only factory it contained; but the townspeople could not leave the name alone; they changed it to AmmoniaviUe, and so it remained. It had one school where the sternest of schoolmasters, made life miserable to his scholars from nine until four o’clock fivje days of every week, and succeeded in making them hate learning as much as they were taught to hate the scribes and Pharisees. And it was into this sohool that Simon Sulks drifted and enroUed his remarkable name. <• Mr. Horace Carver was the schoolmaster. He had a white, cold face, a pair of appalling spectacles which did not hide his steel-gray eyes, and a mouth that closed like a trap. Simeon shot a glance at him when he entered the school for the first time, and was never known to look at him again. This man and chUd were natural enemies. Mr. Carver had no patience with the hoy’s dullness, and he ridiculed Simeon’s ignorance. A boy of twelve years only beginning to learn his letters, and muttering and stumbling because hi eudU not tell D from G. All

this seemed inexcusable to Mr. Carver. He did not reflect that this wail' had never had a chance to learn, and it never.* dawned upon his superior intelligence that this friendless child could have any pride or any feelings which he should respect.

Mr. Horace Carver had a little daughter at home. Every' day she played school with a dozen dolls of high and low degree. Some of 'them were made of wax, had pointed faces, and curly, blonde wigs. These were the aristocrats of the school. Then thero were , china dolls, and one gray rubber doll that was considered the dunce, and which received all the punishment that his severe young schoolmistress could inflict. She hammered the rubber doll with a ferule, she slapped and pounded it until she was tired, and occasionally she hung it to a bedpost by its neck. She was a veritable ‘“chip of the old block,” and was conducting her school very much as her father managed his. Simeon Sulks was the rubber doll in Mr. Carver's school. I do not mean that the austere gentleman hung his scholar up by the neck, but he pounded him without provocation. He went further; he continually prophesied that the state would some day be compelled to hang Simeon Sulks by the neck, because of his total depravity. And yet the lad never did anything worse than miss his lessons, and to fail to satisfactorily explain why he missed them. He was continually being plied with questions that were too suddenly asked or were too profound to penetrate to his slow intelligence. Why he stayed in the school no one imagined, lie did not appear like one who had an inordinate thirst for knowledge. No one in the world tried to influence him to study, nor gave him the slightest encouragement to continue his efforts in that direction. While he was reciting, all other lessons were suspended; the scholars snickered or openly laughed at his blunders, and the teacher scolded or punished without restraint. The boy endured this treatment with dogged patience until the school year was at its close. He had so often been told that lie was everything wicked that it would scarcely have been surprising if he had come to believe it, and to live up to his reputation. But he did not believe it. Deep beneath his reticence was a conviction that he deserved better treatment than he was receiving. He had learned to hate the schoolmaster who punished him for his ignorance. He had silently endured a great deal of suffering, but he was not so obtuse as he appeared. He had suffered more froip ridicule than from Horace Carver's ferule; but the finishing trial of his patience came on the third of July—the last day of school before the summer vacation. It had been Mr. Horace Carver’s hub

Fourth. Tbe fireworks were not for him. In spite of all the fine speech about equal rights he was to share none of the pleasure that would be given his mates. For the first time he openly resented the treatment he was receiving. He stood up, his face flaming with anger and shame, and walked out of the schoolroom. On the night of the Fourth all the children in Ammoniaville, save one, went up to Playfair hill. There was a deal of enthusiasm. The fireworks were hurried, for a breeze had risen which portended a shower, and the performance must needs be over before the rain began. While the crowd,was on the hill Simeon Sulks came out of the inn and went slowly down the road. Under one arm he carried a bottle wrapped in a piece of newspaper. His face was very white, and he was as profoundly agitated as his nature

permitted. His Dioocl ran siuggisniy, but deep down in his inner consciousness had slumbered a spirit of revenue, and to-night, for the first time in his life, it controlled him. He had reached a crisis in his history. He had determined to burn down the schoolhouse! As he walked along bent on this evil mission, he recalled all the hardships he had experienced within its walls. What had he done in the year he had attended that school to warrant the treatment he had received? He had tried to learn, and if learning^had come harder to him than to the others that was his misfortune, not his fault And the crowning acts ofvcruelty had been to prohibit him from \seeing the fireworks and to expel himXfrom the school. What harm would he have done if he had been allowed to go to Playfair hill? If this w^s a free and independent country then he would like to know why he was not allowed to see the celebration of its independence with th4 others? And he wasn’t to be allowed to go to school again! Well, it would be a good while before there was any school to go to, for he was going to burn the old schoolhouse down. The people in Ammo.niaville were very slow about spending money. It might be many a long day before they would build another schoolhouse, and in the meantime Horace Carver would go without his salary. Simeon was revengeful enough to rejoice at that prospect. No doubt there would be a pretty blaze on Playfair hill, but there would be a bigger one on Schoolhouse common. And the people would come to see the latter blaze without any invitation. Everybody would be trying to put out the fire. Well, they^vvould not be able to put it out. The schoolhouse was an old rat trap of a building that would burn like tinder, and there wasn’t a bjig hose or a fire engine in the town. “Look out, lad!” somebody shouted to him. He was interrupted in his incendiary

SIMEON MEETS DB. MAYBTJRY.

it to make a little speech before - he closed the school for the summer, and on this occasion he did not vary his rule, lie told the old story of the early struggle in this country for independence. He told of all the taxes, battles and humiliation to which the British government had* subjected the people in this country. He fought the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill over again. He told of the privation, the cruelty, the cold by which the American soldiers suffered to make the United States an independent government. And then he got down to that celebrated declaration of independence, which is the keynote of our great government, which declares all me®^ equal and which rings with self-respect, justice and independence from beginning to end. Poor downtrodden Simeon Sulks listened and began to think better of himself because he was an American and entitled to some rights! When Mr. Horace Carver told of the signing of the declaration of independence on that famous Fourth of July in 1776, he said that it was everybody’s duty to celebrate the anniversary of this great event. He meant to give the girls and boys of his school a treat on the night of the Fourth. He had bought a lot of fireworks for his children, and they would be set oft »n Playfair hill after eight 'o’clock. Every scholar in the school was invited to be there to witness the display— every scholar with one exception. Simeon Sulks, he said, had been an annoying and disappointing scholar all the year. He had failed to learn his lessons, had been sullen under reproof, had wasted the teacher’s time and distracted his fellow-scholars. Consequently he had r^ominended that the trustees should permit Simeon to return to the schcW after the vacation, and they had agreed to the expulsion. Certainly they had learned from Mr. Carver that the boy was not a proper companion for clever scholars or good children. And in addition to the disgrace that he had brought upon Simeon Sulks Mr. Carver had another punishment for him. The teacher said that the boy would not be allowed to come I to Playfair hill on the night of the

reflections by Dr. Walter Maybury, who had drawn his horse np sharply. Something in Simeon’s face as he shrank to one side of the road excited the doctor’s pity. He recognized him as a boy he had seen about the livery stables. “Why don't yon go to Playfair hill?” the doctor asked, "kindly. “There are great doings up there.” “1 wasn’t asked,” said Simeon, shortly. “Good gracious, but he’s particular!” the doctor said to himself. He was a young man and a merry one. “He doesn’t look like a young Ward McAllister, although he seems to be squeamish about ceremonies.” The doctor did not drive on immediately. He spoke again to Simeon: “If you go you will see the fireworks and will hear Mr. Carver make a speech.” “I don’t want to hear him,v the boy said, inelegantly; *Tve heard him jawing long enough.” “Poor little chap!” the doctor said. “You seem, to be down on your luck. Well, here is a coin. Perhaps you can get some pleasure out of that.” And when he had dropped the money in the boy’s hand the doctor drove away. Thfere was a great lupap in Simeon’s throat. This was one of the r»we occasions when he came near crying. He was already thinking better of his determination to burn the sehoolhouse when he happened to turn his head and saw one of Mr. Carver’s skyrockets. A red flag would have been quite as pleasing to a mad bull. He shut his teeth very hard and hurried on to the schoolhouse. The bottle he carried contained kerosene oil, and in addition to this he had brought with him some matches and a slow fuse. The latter he had picked up in the street that day after some boy had burnt all his firecrackers and had no further use for it. Simeon opened a window of the sehoolhouse and crawled in. He poured the oil on the floor and lighted the fuse. Then he ran away. • The wind was blowing from the southwest. It blew over Schoolhonse common into Ik. Mavburv’s window®1

less than a hundred feet away. The guilty boy had hidden under a hedge and was waiting for development*. The breeze had freshened when a curious instinct made him creep out of his retreat and try to discover which way it was blowing. He trembled from head to foot, and his teeth began chattering in his head. It had dawned upon his sleepy perception that if the schoolhouse burned Dr. Mavbury’s house would also be destroyed. He was unwilling that this should occur. Dr. Maybury was the only man who had ever spoken kindly to him, and the boy would not injure Jym. He must go back and stop that fire. He went back and again climbed through the open window, but before he reached the fuse the oil ignited. There was an appalling glare of fire running across the floor. Then it appeared to encircle him. He was wild with fear and remorse, but he remembered the water pail and struggled across the room to get it He caught it up and threw its contents upon the flames; but he did not refill it He was overpowered by a cloud of smoke which filled his lungs, and he fell upon the burning floor.

A day or two later be was vaguely conscious of being better cared for than he had ever been before. He was in a real bed with clean clothing on him. Gradually it. came to him that he was in Dr. May bury's house. lie was profoundly thankful to know that it had not been bm-ried. Later he knew that the doctor'mad seen the blaze-in the schoolhouse and had rescued him. The fire had been easily extinguished. The schoolhouse had a new floor, and this green wood had been scorched but had not ignited. Jhe doctor had dragged the boy out and tmd cared for him. * He did more than that; he induced the boy to talk. Gradually the doctor learned that Simeon had wanted to be schooled, had stubbornly borne all the hard knocks he had received in school because he was determined to learn, and had finally been expelled after all. Before Simeon Sulks was well the doctor knew more of his character than anyone else had ever imagined. The boy had lost his obtuseness. It was astonishing hcAlv his understanding and his better nature developed. He was never prosecuted for his attempt at incendiarism. There was no jail in Ammoniaville, and no one cared to take the trouble to drag him to the county seat when he had succeeded in damaging nothing but himself. “Let us keep the little chap with us,” Dr. Maybury said to his wife. “Cruelty was rapidly making a criminal of him, but kindness is making a gentleman of him quite as fast.” “It was his gratitude to you that made him risk his life to save this house from burning,” said Mrs. Maybury. “He is not a brilliant lad. but his devotion will make him faithful to you while he lives. The Fourth of July has been a great day to Simeon Sulks. It has emancipated him from cruel treatment, and has given him the protection and the liberty to which he is entitled.”—Frances Isabel Currie, in N. Y. Independent.

A Small Boy's Anticipations. This yere us boys are from’ tu hav a rakit i tell yer, YV eve got 2& one-half pounds of powdir tide upp inn a bladdir & leven borls of twine rapt round itt az tight az ennything & were goin to sett itt orf in the strete before the Kops waik upp. Mi! butt the winders will rattil wen the sploshun taiks plais. it betes Kannons arl to peesis. yude bettir runs if U don’t want tu git blode upp. Grone fokes wood 4 git there wuz enny Deklay Kashu of indypendent* if thare wuz no little boys tu maik Rakits & shute orf thare fingers wunst A yere. i dont bleve in scarin horsis & settin orf chasers to ehace peepil but wy dont thay sta inn the Hows like our dorg duz wen hee heres the shutin. dont boys wanter hav sum fun on the day wich gorge washin tun maid spresly 4 them.—H. C. Dodge, ih Goodall’s Sun. THE DAY AFTER.

Off5 -> Boy—I won’t be down town for a day or two, Mr. Brown. Me madder's sick. Employer—That's all right, my boy. I was a youngster once myself. How many fingers hare you got left?—Chicago Mail. Six Miles of Roast Pig. There lias been a marked change in the fashion of Fourth of July celebrar tions since Capt. Marryat visited this country in 1838. He was in New York on Independence day; and the sight that most impressed him there on that occasion was “six miles of roast pig” —that delicacy being the piece de resistance in every one of the hastily erected booths with which Broadway was lined on both sides. —Mrs. Cantwell—“Y'ou should be i ashamed to sell firecrackers to a little boy." Dealer—“Well, ma’am, I do the best 1 can. With every pack I give a bottle of arnica. *’—Philadelphia Record.

Take Care c f Your Eyes. The way people atrc.se their eyes is amazing-. They try them, strain them and overtax them ir. all manner of ways And when the ir eyes begin to weaken with ill-usage tnd age they are too proud to.give th em the aid of glasses which they crave. Furrowed cheeks* sallow complexions ami white hair can be hidden under enarntd and rouge and dyes; but there is no fashionable nostrum that can cot er up weakness of eyes. Spectacles proclaim the defect which they mitigate, and are looked upon by those whose minds are as weak as their-eyes as a badge of infirmity; and sooner than saddle their noses with them, they saddle 1 heir lives with semiblindness.—If. Y. Ijedger. Removing a .source or rent. Danger is near when the kidneys grow inactive. The source of i>eril is removable with Hostetler's St rcnaih Bitters, which unquestionably aver ? Bright’s disease, dia- i belt's, gravel and o.ior ruinous maladies 5 attributable, In the first instance, to a dormant condition of the kidneys and bladder. A fiealthful impulse to the performance of « the functions of these organs is speedily communicated by the Bitters, which likewise 'removes eonsti pat on, malaria, liver trouble and dyspepsia. " Bct It Didn’tTempt H m.—“That is what I call a great snap.” mus ed the fox, eyeing the steel trap critic illy and passing ou.— Chicago Tribune. AS Adyektisemen" for the D*t.—“The young lady to whoni I bioaiue eugaged at die ball last night is hereby requested to send her name and aidress to the office of this paper.”—II Secolo.

Do you know what makes coffee delicious? Good quality ar d freshness. The best grade, if not newly roasted, will yield a poor drink. MAIL POUCH coffee possesses the quality, and, besides, is roasted and packed fresh every day, in one-pound sealed packages onlv, by Hanley & Kinsella Coffee and" Spice Co,, St. Louis; Get it at your grocer 's. People are so inconsistent. They will speak in complimentary terms of .the:minister’s slow delivery w hue they swear at the messenger boy's.—Tonkers Statesman. F. J. Cueney & Co., Toledo, O., Proprs. of Hail’s Catarrh Cure, oiler ilOO reward for any case of catarrh that cannot be cured by taking Hall’s Catar -h C ure. Send for testimonials, free. Sokl by Druggists, 75c. “There’s one consolation,’’ thought the bargain hunter as she wis blown to atoms by a dynamite cartridge, “this is a fast die.’’—Harvard Lampoon. Visitor—“Why, hmv big you are growing, Tommy! If you dor ’t look out you will be getting taller than yeur father." Tommy—“Won’t that le jolly! Then pap’li have to wear my old trousers out down for him.’-—Tid-Bits. Close Relations—The anecdote met the short story, aud said: “Ah, bow ale you! We’re related, aren’: we!" “So I’ve been told," replied the sbor ; Story. And then they both rushed into print together.— Truth. A Certain Cure for Astfcma. Dr. Crosby’s Sweeish Remedy never fails to afford instant relief and cures where nothing else will. Sammefres by mail. Collins Bros. Medjcini Co , St. Louis, Mo. The Usual Cause. —Lord Fitz-Mud—“Sjr Charlie is going to marry an American girl." Lord Havers lake—“No! Whv, I had no idea his finances vert) so low as that "’— Puck. . Pimples are ines pressibly mortifying. Remedy—Glenn’s St Iph ir Soap. Hill’s Hair and Whisker Dye, 50 cents. The modern landlord doesn’t get frightened when he sees the handwriting on the wall. He just gels mad.—Buffalo Courier. - “A little change of t eir," remarked the old man as he altered his will, cutting off his nephew in favor of his typewi^ter.— Philadelphia Record. Nervous and bSious disorders, sick headache, indigestion, loss ot appetite and constipation removed by Beecham’s Pills. Regardless of the fact that the cyclone always travels in a great hurry it manages to pick up many valuable things on the way. —Inter Ocean.' The telephone girl, no matter how charming she may seem to be, is always quite distaut in her couve.-sution.—Rochester Democrat. V The best thing going—An unwelceme guest.—Yale Record. fj 1 f; n 2 I ij 1 a I r ' j I ] I 1 0. i\ Swellings in the Neck

Or goi?r©, made my neck fully twice its natural size. For three yeejs ali my strength seemed to go into the swelling, and I was reduced from 185 to 89 pounds. I took Hood’s Sarsapa- n rillr, which gave men strength, relieved cl is- /J tress in my stomach, and

best or all, cuti rely ic- Mrs. Swin^Tord. moved tlie goitre. I Min’now in the best of health, weigh 193 pounds, and tell everyone what wonders Hood’s Sarsaparilla has done for me.” Mrs. H. C. Swinkjoro, Union County, Miffilnburg. Pa_ _ Hood*8 Pills act easily, yet promptly. “German Syrup” My niece, Emeline Hawley, was, taken with spitting blood, and she became very much alarmed, fearing that dreaded disease. Consumption. She tried nearly al!. kinds of medicine but nothing di< l her any good. Finally she took German Syrup and she told me it did her more good than anything she: ever tried. It stopped the blood, gave her strength and ease, and a good appetite. I had it from her own lips. Mrs. Mary A. Stacey, Trumbull, Conn. Honor to German Syrup. ®

rill! seeenty-seven years old. ■e had my age renewed twenty years by the use ft’s Spedhc. My foot X to my knee was »

naming sore for two j-eais, and physiaans saia it could not be cored. After taking xuteea small bottles S. S.S. there is rot a sore on ray limbs, andl ' OLD have a new lease on life. You ought to let all sufferers know

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