St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 19, Number 38, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 7 April 1894 — Page 2

i Last i M, ss M E brad °on i

1 win w W _ Jp CHAPTER 111. “IT WAS TRINE OATH THAT FIRST DID FAIL.” Nearly a year had gone since Cyprian Davenant had turned his back upon British soil. It was the end of May, high season in London, and unusually brilliant weather, the West End streets and squares thronged with carriages, and everywhere throughout that bright westarn w rid a delightful flutter and buzz of life and gayety, as if the children of that pleasant region had indeed in some manner secured an exemption from the cares and sorrows of meaner mortals, and were bent on making the most of their privileged existence. A neatly appointed brougham waited before the door of a house in HalfMoon street, and had been waiting there for. some time. It was Mrs. Walsingham's brougham, and the lady herself was slowly pacing to and fro her little drawing-room, pausing every now and then to look out of the window, and in a very unpleasant state of mind. She was elegantly dressed in her favorite toilet of Indian muslin and lace, and was looking very handsome, in spite of the cicud upon her sm oth white brow, and a certain ominous glitter in her blue eyes. “I suppose he is not coming,” sho muttered at last, tossing her white lace parasol upon the table with an angry gesture. 'This will be the second cisappointment in a week. But I shall not go to the concert without him. What do I care for their tiresome classical music, or to be stared at by a crowd of great ladies who don't choose to know me?” She rang the bell violently, but before it could be answered there came a thundering double knock at the door below, and a minute afterward Gilbert Sinclair dashed into the room, bearing in his hand a beautiful bouquet of the rarest and most fragrant flowers. “Late again, Gilbert,” cried Mrs. Walsingham, reproachfully, her face brightening nevertheless at his coming; and she smiled at him with a pleased welcoming smile as they shook hands. “Yes, I know it’s late for that confounded eoncert. But I want you to let I rno Off that infliction^ Cliva h” ^^^SarTwho^doesn’t' ^"Tootwem Balfe and Beethoven, and you know I have a heap of engagements on my hands.” “You have only come to cry off, then?” said Mrs. Walsingham, with a sudden contraction of her firmly molded lips. “My dear Clara, what a fiend you look when you like I But I wouldn't cultivate that kind of expression if I | were you. Os course, I'll go to the concert with you, if you are bent upon it, rather than run the risk of anything in the way of a scene. But you know very well that I don’t care for music, and you ought to know ” He stopped, hesitating, with a furflive look in his red-brown eyes, and a nervous action of one big hand about his thick brown mustache. “I ought to knew what, Mr. Sinclair?” asked Clara Walsingham, with a sudden hardness of voice and manner. “That itis neither good for your reputation nor mine that we should be seen so often together at such places as this Portman Square concert. It is almost a private affair, you know, and everybody present will know all about us. ” “Indeed', and since when has Mr. Gilbert Sinclair become so careful of his reputation—or of mine?” “Since you set your friends talking about our being engaged to be married, Mrs. Walsingham. You have rather too many feminine acquaintances with long tongues. I don't like being congratulated, or chaffed- it comes to pretty much the same thing—upon an event which you know never can happen. ” “Never is a long word, Gilbert. My husband may die,' and leave me free to become your wife, if you should do me the honor to repeat the proposal which you made to me six years ago.” “I don't like waiting for deal men's shoes, Clara,” answered Sinclair, in rather a sulky tone. “I made you that offer in all good faith, when T believed you to be a widow, and when I was madly in love with you. But six years is a long time, and “And men are fickle,” she said, taking up his unfinished sentence. “You have grown tired of me, Gilbert; is that what you moan?” “Not exactly that, Clara, but rather ’ tired of a position that keeps me a single man without a single man’s liberty. You are Quite as exacting ai a wife, more jealous than a mistress, and I am getting to an age now at which a man begins to feel a kind of yearning for something more like a home than chambers in the Albany, some one more like a wife than a lady who requires one to be perpetually playing the cavaliere servente.” She stood for a minute looking at him, with a sudden intensity in her ; face. He kept his eyes cn the ground during that sharp scrutiny, but he was fully conscious of it nevertheless. “Gilbert Sinclair,” she cried, after a long pause, “you are in love with some other woman; you arc going to jilt me. ” There was a suppre sed agony in her tone which both surprised and alarmed the man to whom she spoke. Os late he had doubted the sincerity of her attachment to him, and had fostered

that doubt, tolling himself that it was his wealth she cared for. “Would it grieve you very much if I were to marry, Clara?” he asked. “Grieve me if you were to marry! It would be the end of my life. I would never forgive you. But you are playing -with me. You are only trying to frighten me. ” “Lou are frightening yourself,” he answered. “I only put the question in a speculative way. Let us drop the subject. If you want to go to the concert ” “I don't want to go; I am not fit to go anywhere. Will you ring that bell, please? I shall send the brougham back to the stable.” "Wont you drive in the park this fine afternoon?” “No; I am fit for nothing now. ” A maid-servant came in answer to the bell. “You can take my bonnet, Jane,” said Mrs. Walsingham, removing that floral , structure, “and tell Johnson I shall not want the brougham to-day. You’ll stop to dinner, won't you, Gilbert?” ■ she went on when the maid had retired. “Mr. Wyatt is to be here, and Sophy Morton." “How fond you are of the actor people. So Jim Wyatt is coming, is he? I rather want to see him. But I have other engagements this afternoon, and I really don’t think I can stay.” “Oh, yes, you can. Gilbert. I shall think I had just grounds for my suspicion if you are so eager to run away. ’ “Very well, Clara, if you make a point of it, I will stop. ” Mr. Sinclair threw himself into one of the low luxurious chairs with an air I of resignation scarcely complimentary j to his hostess. The interval before dinner dragged wearily, in spite of Mrs. Waßingham’s ’ efforts to sustain a pleasant conversation absut t riles. ' The conversation dawdled on in a ' languid manner for a couple of hours, ' and then Mr. Sinclair went away to 1 change his dress for the regulation din- - ner costume. 1 -The smile which Mrs. WalsiDg’ham’s 3 face had worn while she talked To him ■ faded the moment he had left her, and ; ’ she began to pace the room with rapid ‘ steps and a darkly clouded brow. “Yes, there is no dobut about it,"sho ' muttered to herself, with suppressed 1 passion. “I have seen the change In ■ him for the last twelve months. Thore 5 is some one else. How should I lose 1 him if it were not so? Heaven knows ! what pains 1 have taken t > retain my hold upon him! Thore is some one - else. He is afraid to tell me the truth. J He is wise in that respect. Who can ' the woman be for whom lam tor.-aken? ' He knows so many people, and visits so 1 ' much, and is everywhere courted and । ' flattered on occount of his money. Oh, | Gilbert, fool, fool! Will any woman ever love you as I have loved you, for j your own sake, without a thought of ; your fortune, with a blind idolatry of , your very faults? What is it that I i lovo in him, 1 wonder? I know that ' Ihe is not a good man. I have seen his ; ' tween him and his iron will. But I. ' too, cjuld be hard and remorseless if a great wrong were done me. Let him take care now he provokes a passionate, reckless nature like mine. Let him beware of playing with fire.” Tl^s was the gist of her thoughts during a gkomy icverie that lasted ! more than an hour. At the end of j that time Miss Morton was announced, I and came fluttering into the room, resplendent in a brilliant costume < f rose-colored silk and black lace, followed shortly by James Wyatt, tho lawyer, courteous and debonair, full of small-talk and fashionable scandal. Gilbert Sinclair was tho last to enter. The dinne • was elegantly served in a pretty little dining-room, hung with pale green draperies and adorned with a few clever water-color pictures, a room in which there was a delightful air of coolness and repose. Mr. Wyatt was invaluable in the task of sustaining the conversation, and ( lava Walsingham seconded him almirably. th nigh there was a sharp anguish at her heart that was now almost a habitual j ain, an agonv prophetic of a coming blow. Gilbert Sinclair was a little bl ighter than lie had been in the afternoon, and contributed his share to the talk with a decent grace, only once or twice betraying absence of mind by a random answer and a wandering look in his big brown eyes. James Wyatt and Mrs. Walsingham had been running through a catalogue of the changes of fortune, for good^or evil, that had befallen their common acquaintances, when Gilbert broke in upon their talk suddenly with the ques- , tion: j , “What has become of that fellow who < dined with us at Richmond last year? Sir Cyprian som thing.” “Sir Cyprian Davenant,” said James Wyatt. “He is still in Africa. ” "In Africa! Ah, yes, to be sure, I 1 remember hearing that he was going to t join Harcourt's expedition. I was not c much impressed by him, though I had i heard him talked about as something i out of the c mmon way. He had prec- j ions little to say for himself.” “You saw him at a disadvantage that t day. He was out of spirits at leaving ' s England." ° ■ ( “Very likely, but I had met him in ; i society very often before. Ue s rather i a handsome fellow, no doubt; but I cer- I tainly couldn't discover any special j merit in him beyond his good look-. I ] He's a near neighbor of the Clan- : ' yardes, by the way, when he's at 1 home, is he not?” “When he’s at home, yes,” answered < the solicitor. “But I doubt if ever I i he'll go home again.” “ You mean that he'll come by his 1 death in Africa, I suppose?” “I sincerely hope not, for Cyprian ( Davenant is one of my oldest friends, i No; I mean that he’s not very likely to ' , see the inside cf his ancestral halls I any more. The place is to be sold this i year.” “The baronet is quite cleared out, j then?” “He has about feur hundred a year ; that he inherited from his mother, so 1 tightly tied up that he has not been able to make way with it.” “What Clanyardes are those?” asked Mrs. Walsingham

“Viscount Clanyarde and his fan Ihey have a place called Marchbi^l'k and a very poor place it is, within a mile or two of Davenant. The old vis h count is as poor as Job. ” “Indeel! But his youngrer dau^htal r will make a great match, no doubt an\di redeem the fortunes of the house " £ saw her at the opera tho other nigL.it. She was pointed out to me as the kTHvehest cirl in London, and I really thi Ink she has a right to be called so. WL-iati do you think of her, Gilbert?” B Sue fixed her eyes upon Sinclair w«th’ a sudden scrutiny that took him off Miig guard. A dusky, flush came over^Eis face, and he hesitated awkwardlyKefore replying to her very simple ^isti°n. Clara Walsingham's heart gavA a great throb. S S "That is the woman,” she said towerself. F ‘Miss Clanyarde is very handsoigie," I stammered Gilbert; “ at least I be»ve that is the general opinion about l^fer. She has been intimate with your frßend Davenant ever since she was a claLild, hasn't she, Wyatt?” he asked, wit® an indifference of tone which one listener, knew to be assumed. | “Yes, I have heard him say as mu|;h l "' the other answered with an air Ci t: re ' serve which implied the possess’ F ,^of more knowledge upon the poin he cared to impart. .ik “These acquaintances of the are apt to end

iu urn — Cyprian and Miss Clanyarde?” “Decidedly not.” Gilbe? Sinclair burst into a^ laugh. k’ “Not very likely,” he exclaimed should like to see old Clanyarde’s if his daughter talked of "marryh*’ a gentlemanly pauper.” jL “That is the woman he loves,” wS s ‘ Walsingham repeated to herself. .l an No more was said about Sir Cypiji ° or the Clanya des. The con versa* drifted into other channels, an3k, s ; evening wore itself away more orwj( c i pleasantly, with the assistance of mAl a | by and by in tho drawing-room, whAj, there were a few agreeable dr® pers-in. | |to BE CONTINUED. I € WHAT A ROMANCE. I The Ohl Capital of a Proud SoutließS State Sold to an ex-Slave. Alabama's old capital, the cityW Cahaba, was sold tho other day w • | auction for $.550. In old days CaKaw ■ held its head high. It had'grand iw | augural fetes. Great streets were lai® out in tho pine groves and large docks'* were erected. A Governor’s mansion® was built and a daily paper startecl® Eino dwellings shot up as in a night 1 Brick st >res arose as if by magic. A® metropolitan air sat upon the woodland! capital. It vaunted itself proudly, and I spoke In friendly and condescending! interest of the decay of neighboring! towns and villages. j The town-lot speculator fas'ened 1 himself up n the community. He laid | ' out the pine groves into lots and sold I j thorn at fancy prices. Eligible sites * for building purposes were fold thousands of dollars an acre. Cahal>a began to look even upon Mobile a, a li suburb, and saw the day when it would be ai large us New Orleans ‘ j Cahaba s glory lasted about years. In DSO the capital was talWjß 1 C' j;il t: " »"IT 7 "• 'AT - , (. P-' ‘ ■ e impure a’ n , ; nnnntcafialia. The capital was allt a® । na.iaha lto cad it into prominence I® gone, the town went back gradually'! into the insignificance from which itsef sudd ‘Div had b -en called. The bricM stores became empty, the streets grew up in grass an I forests, and the proul families moved awav. I The death-knell was sounded laA week. At the stroke of the Sheriff^! hammer the town was knocked do nJ to Henry Freeman, colored, an ex-1 slave, for SSV) cash. In default of that pnyni nt of taxes. Henry got in hifil 1 urchase seventy-two town lots, three® bric.< stores, sovt rajc- andother® pronerti —fifty acres in all. What will I ho do with his purchase? He w!H plant® cotton, corn, and rutabagas. He wilt T train Ir an vines over the brick stores, ; or tear them down and use the brick • to make barns and outhouses. Easy When You Know How. The secrets of snake-charming are ■ much simpler than m st j ooplo imag- I ine. The .-nakos to be handled are I gorged with food until they I ecome I drowsy, or else they are drugged so • that their senses are daz-d. Some- | times they are kept in ice-boxes, and I the cold keeps them in a semi-torpid I condition. In either case tho snakes | are only half alive. In handling the | reptile the hand must always grasp it at certain places where tho head can be guided and hel i from the body. This is the hardest thing to learn, but, like everything else, it comes with practice. In handling a reptile with the fangs in—which ought to be prohibited by law—one requires great strength, as the strain on the system during the performance is very great. The grasp and movements must be precise and accurat ?. There is no room for hesitancy or uncertainty. Color and the Electric Eight. Some colors suffer by light, notably yellow and pink. Helio- I trope assumes a pinky hue, and many 1 delicate gradations of shade are 1< st j under the light of the modern ilium.nant. I’ale blue also loses some o; its glory, but green is vastly improved. Bright crimson looks well if artistically and effectively toned down, and s me shades of primrose are especially beautiful. Wrinkles, it is said, are mercilessly shown up. and the complexion that is nut cf nature's making I ecomes flat and ghastly in the truth’ ful light. For this reason the electric light is not popular with many people but the knowing hostess secures all its beautiful effects and makes everlasting friends of her lady guests by covering every lamp with a shade’of yellow silk. The result is magical. Paper Palp. One of the difficulties which have stood m the way of the substitution of j taper pulp for wood in the manufacture ! of pencils has been the toughness of ' the paper covering, and its consequent I resistance to the action of a knife, but I by a new p^cess which has lately been introduced, the molecular cohesion of the paper is modified in such a manner that it can be cut as easily as cedar i wood. In Australia a 17-year-old giant measures 8 feet 3i inches and weighs 300 pounds.

THE RIVER THAMES. Associated with Everythin- Great in the History of England. Next to the Jordan and the Tiber no river calls up oldei or, to the Ang o-baxon race, more tallowed memor.es than the Thames. The Jordan is sacred for the religious associations clustering around the origin of Christianity; the Tiber is famous from its connection with the greatest nation of ant:quity: the greatness of each is in the past, but the Thames is the ri' er of the present and the past, and Is inseparably associated with everything great in the history of the Anglo-Saxon race—the race that is destined to rule the earth for the next thousand years. The little glen which gives it birth lies about 200 miles io the west of London, and from the shady valley it flows to the east and south, and after a course of about 225 miles loses itself in the North Sea. From Oxford on down the banks of the Engl sh river arc 1 ke gardens, and the traveler sails past castlesand manors and stately homes, past towns whoxo names are fam liar on the pages of English history, past Turley, *tne home of Warren Hastings; past one of tho holiest shrines of Catholic Engi^tuL

vicar narrrnrprincipJe save that of preserving his place, so was Catholic or I rotestant accord ng to adminis- , trillion, “resolved to live and die A icar o. Bray;” past 100 localities, each one of which has something to interest him till he comes to Eaton. Celebrated as is the great school, it has no more interesting feature than its panel fence which has inscribed upon it the names of thousands of boys, many of whom afterward became famous ;n tlic history of their c untry. Cn the other sideof the river Windsor, the beautiful royal castle of the • English Kings, lifts its towers as proudly as during tiie time when the early Normans found it a safe retreat irom their turbulent Saxon subjects. Windsor has been a royal residence for *OO years. No King but made 1 improvements here and there, and every style of architecture may be > observed in <me part or another of the heterogenous mass of buildings I which compose the fortress. LcavI Ing Windsor out of sight the Thames ' ■ passes Runnymede, where encamped ; iJobn’s rebellious barons, and in the ■river ju-t opposite D Mag a Charta : ^Ksland, where the luckless monarch y»et his nobles and signed the first ■treat r strument of English liberty. 1 ■ Irom Runnymede the distance is ' ■ihort to Richmond, from the hill of , Rvhieh maybe obtained a magnificent ■ view of London, and here the beauty romance ot the Thames are at thenceforth its mission is I «commerce, the roar of traffic. ; ridges is ceaseless, its pools ■mKbankments its wharfs and Attract the greatest volume of if acre ■ drawn to any port in the K ' The smoke of London tellies A. sur ace; the sewage of 1 l^lndon defiles its water: the flowing ' th Ie carries back and forth the garb- ' aS e from the 10,000 vessels wh ch iCftowd the port. Didn’t Have the Eare. ‘•Women are curious creatures,” said one married man to another. “You say that with the air of one ■ who has made an original discovery.” . “Well, 1 mean about money.” I T They had been talking about ; । money, says the New York World, and which was the best policy. To make your wife your blanker and ‘ [draw enough every day to last you [till you get home again, or to allow pier so much every week to run the . : house with. Married men always get i to talking about that problem sooner : or later. I “About money th y are curious 1 ! creatures, as sure as you're a foot i high. I give my wife m. wages, and I she gives me whatever money I want, i ; She has the responsibility of saving, ' 'and feels it to be a very mighty re- 1 • sponsibility. When she makes up , her min i to save $lO, that $lO is as ! i good as gone out of the world. The I 'grocer must wait, and the doctor! nev r did have any right to his I money, at least not until after that ■ particular $lO bill is in the bank. ' When we lived in Brooklyn we opened an account with a savings bank there. Then we removed to Harlem, and, of course, it wasn’t so ■

hindy to get over with the money. ! The missus kept saving till she had I sllO laid by. “ 'You ought to put that money in ' the bank,’ 1 told her. ‘Somebody | ’•*3o climb in by the dumb-waiter and rll । and th u you’ll led I know it? why don't you bank it?’ ‘I didn’t have the car fare? "^Now, isn’t that a woman for all the world?” Suspicious. A wealthy and generous Englishman, while traveling in America attending a church maintained by a colored congregation, was so pleaded with the minister's simple sermon ana the attitude of the worshippers that he dropped S 3 into the basket when it was passed for the usual collection. >o large a contribution seemed to । SU with amazement the brethren ' whc passed the baskets, and one of them, in a whisper, confided the fact of the unusual contribution to the pastor, who arose and said to the congregation: ‘■Beloved fren’s, de collection hab brought fo’th de munif’cent sum ob sixteen do’lars and forty-nine cents, Perwided de $5 bill gib by de white gemman am not counterfeit. Every wo man dreams of a fairy Godmother until sho becomes old enough to become a grand-mother herself.

A Cry for Help In the stillness of the night is sufficiently startling. What if no aid be at hand or we know not whence the cry conies? This is not the case with that mute appeal made to the resources of medical science, ever ready, ever available by disease on every band. A prompt means of self help for the malarious, the rheumatic, the dyspeptic, the bilious, and persons troubled with impending kidney complaints, is to be found in Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters, an ever “present help in time of trouble" for all such hapless individuals. They should not delay a moment in seeking its aid. Experience has shown its wide utility, the recommendation of eminent physicians everywhere sanction Its use. Nervous, thin, debilitated invalids gain bodily substance and vizor by a course of this tine invtgoraut. which is eminently serviceable, also, to the aged and convalescent. To Imitate Old Bronze. The rep ated applicat oaj to copper or I rass of alternate washe< of dilute acetic acid and exposure to the fu nos bf ammonia will give a very antiqueIcoking green bre nze; bit a quick mede of pr dicing a similar a’pearance is oite i desirable. To this er.d the articles may be immersed in a solution of 1 part of percalorido of iron in 2 parts of water. The tone assumes darkness with length < f immersion. Gr the article may be b >i'ed in a strong solution cf nitrate of copper. Or lastly, it may bo imme s-ol in a solution of - ounces of nitrate of iron and 2 < unees of hypo ulphite of soda in one-half !' lnt water. Washing, drying and

<-omptete tfKrprorew^—— - Statz of Ohio. City of Toledo, > Lvcas County. (“• Frank J. Cheney makes oath that hs fa the senior partner of the firm of F. J. Cheney & Co doing business in the City of Toledo, County and State aforesaid, and that said firm will mi tho sum of ONE HUN PREP POLEMtS fbr each and every case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by the use of Hall's Catabbs Cubv „ 4 , FRANK J. CHENEY. Sworn to before me and tubscribed in my presence, this 6th day of December, A. D. 1836, j ; A. W. GLEASON, I SKAr - j- Notary Public. Hall’s Catarrh Cure Is taken internally, and acts directly on the blood and mucous surfaces of tho system. Send for testimonials, free. F. J. CHENEY A CO., Toledo, O. Jtta Sold by druggists, 75c. Which Will You He? A farm renter or a farm owner? It rests with your elf. Stay where y u are and ; you will be a renter all your life. Move to ' Nebraska, where good land Is cheap and I cheap land is gocd, and you can easily be- | come an owner. Write to J. Francis. G. P, I and T. A , Burlington Route. Omaha. Neh, for descriptive pamphlet. It’s free, and a postal will bring It, to you. A Gat Appeals ton Dentist. A correspondent of the Philadelphia I I all writes: "I have a friend, a den- 1 । tist, who is the owner of a kitty. This I I animal is very observing and frequently sits near the chair watching the doctor operate on patients. For sev- j oral days it was noticed that pussy had ' not taken her fool as quick as usual I and she frequently yowled in apparent distress, but no attention v.as paid to it. “Ono morning last week, after a pati nt had left the chair, pussy jumped into the place he had occupied, and raising her head, gave a pitiful cry, and then opened her mouth. The do •- tor looked and found the gum badly ulcerated from a defective tooth. He drew the incisor cut, and after having her gum dressed the cat jumped down and expre-sed her thanks by purring , in a contented tnanncr. ” °

Che ’ ’ w Pv k ' '■

The lady whose portrait heads this article L Is Mrs. Mary F. Covell, of Scotland, Bon ; Hommo Co., S. Dak. She writes to Dr. R. V. Pierce, Chief Consulting Physician to the i Invalids' Hotel and Surgical Institute, at Buffalo, N. Y., as follows- “I was sick two years with ‘ falling of tho womb ’ and ieucorrhcea previous to taking your medicines. I took six bottles of Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription, and was entirely cured of both in six months ; it is four years this month, since I was entirely well of both those diseases and havo never had any signs of their appearance since and I am satisfied tho ‘ Favorite Prescription ’ saved my life, for I could hardly walk arouna when I commenced taking that medicine and I think it is a God’s blessing to me that I took it. I was pronounced incurable by the best doctors here in the West. I gave up all hopes and made up my mind that I was to be taken away from my husband and baby of two years old. I was sick all of the time — could not eat anything at all. In one week, after beginning tho use of tho ‘ Favorite Prescription’ my stomach was so much better that I could eat anything : I could see that I was gaining all over, and my husband then went and got me six bottles ; I took three of them and my stomach did not bother me any more. Wo sent to you and got tho People’s Common Sense Medical Adviser, and found my case described just as I was: we did what the book told us, in every way ; in one month's time I could see I was much better than I had been ; we still kept on just as the book told us, and in three months I stopped taking medicine, and to-day, I can proudly say I am a well women, yes, am well, strong and healthy. When I began to take your medicine mv face was poor and eyes looked dead. I could not enjoy myself anywhere, I was tired and sick all the time. I could hardly do my house-work, but now I do that and tend a big garden, help my husband and take in sewing.” The following will prove interesting to feeble women generally, and especially ^o to those about to Become mothers. Mrs. Dora

/ —s (HI Sarah I. GriFFiix, Only a Sear Remains Scrofula Cured —Blood Purified by Hood's Sarsaparilla "C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.: It is with pleasure that I send a testimonial concerning ■what Hood’s Sarsapa-Ula has done for my daughter. It is a wonder u! medicine, and I cannot recommend it too highly. Sarah, who is fourteen years old, has been Afflicted with Scrofula ever since she was one year old. For five years ehe has had a running sore on one side of her face. We tried every remedy recommended, but nothing did her any good until we commenced using Hood s Sarsaparilla, ity married daughter advised me to use Hood’s Sarsaparilla, be-

Hood’s^Cures cause it had cured her of dyspepsia. She had been troubled with that complaint sincechiident C l ure she has ne ver been without a bottle of Hood s Sarsaparilla in the house ue commenced giving it to Sarah about one y ear ago, and it has conquered the running sore, Only a Scar Remaining as a trace of the dreadful disease. Previous to taking the medicine her eyesight was affected, but n°, w she can see perfectly. In connection, with Hood s Sarsaparilla we have used Hood’s "V egetab e Pills, and find them the best." Mrs Maria Gbiffin. Xenia, Illinois. Hood's Pills cure nausea, sick headax-he indigestion, biliousness. Sold by all druggists! Driving the Brain

at the expense of the Body. While we drive the brain we must build up the body. Exercise, pure air —foods that

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make healthy flesh—refreshing sleep—such are methods. When loss of flesh, strength and nerve become apparent your physician will doubtless tell you that the quickest builder of all three is Scott’s Emulsion of Cod Liver Oil, which not only creates flesh of and in itself, but stimulates the appetite for other foods. Prepared by Scott A Bowne, N Y. A!! drtiggirt*. P* BUCCIES & HARNESS AT HAtFPRICI Xz—^*so Buggy $23. I Buy <4 Ur. BI<Ulu« 73 Pr.a u CaUiurau Fr»a. U.S.C A RT & BUCC Y CO, CiM]N»*TiJ..__

in sun > A Guthrie, of Oakley, Overton Co., T*nn. t writes : “I never can thank you enough for what your treatment has done for me ; I am stronger now than I bave been for six years. When I began your treatment I was not able to do anything. I could not stand on my feet long enough to wash my dishes without suf - sering almost death ; now I do all my housework, washing, cooking, sewing and everything for my family of eight. Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription is the best medicine to take before confinement that can be found; or at least it proved so with me. I never suffered so little with any of my children as I did with my last and she is the healthiest we have. I recommend your medicines to all of my neighbors and especially ‘ Favorite Prescription ’ to all women who axe suffering. Have induced several to try it, and it haa proved good for them.” Yours truly, Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription is a positive cure for tho most complicated end obstinate leucorrhea, excessive flowing, painful menstruation, unnatural suppressions *and irregularities, prolapsus, or telling of the womb, weak back, “female weakness,” anteversion, retroversion, bearing-down sensations, chronic congestion, inflammation and ulceration of the womb, inflammation, pain and tenderness of the ovaries, accompanied with “internal beat.” Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription is a scientific medicine, carefully compounded by an experienced and skillful physician, and adapted to woman’s delicate organization. It is purely vegetable in its composition and perfectly harmless in its effects in any condition of the system. For morning sickness or nausea, due to pregnancy, weak stomach, indigestion. dyspepsia and kindred symptoms, its use will prove very beneficial. Dr. Pierce's Book, “ Woman and Her Diseases,” (168 pages, illustrated), giving successful means of home treatment, can be had (sealed in plain envelope) by enclosing 10 cts., in one cent stamps, to pay postage, to the Doctor, at his address, as given at th* beginning of this article.