The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 23, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 1 October 1908 — Page 6

“I wonder,” said one of Bragg’s men, **what became of Lieutenant Wagstaff j>f the Eightieth Ohio Infantry. I often think of Wagstaff. I was taken prisoner by Captain Botham of the Third IMichlgan Cavalry on the 28th day of jA-pril, just three weeks after the battle of Shiloh, down the ridge toward Hamburg. I was taken to General Pope’s headquarters, and, after being thoroughly interviewed by that commander, I was forwarded to Hamburg and turned over to the provost guard, the commander of which was Wagstaff. That night Wagstaff came around to look oyer his new recruits and I had a talk Iwlth him. In that first meeting I formed a friendship which has never died out i» far as I am concerned. Wagstaff came around to see me every day, end often brought along cigars or other things which .were not dealt out to the-* prisoners promiscuously. “There was a sutler at Hamburg whom the Eightieth Ohio boys thoroughly detested, bnt they could not talk back to him as they wished on account bf regulations. One evening early W-ag staff came to me and laid the case before me, and said, ‘Now, you are a pretty good talker. I want you to go (with me. I’ll Introduce you to the sutler. He has never seen a live rebel, pud he’ll jump right on to you. I’ll have a lot of the boys In his we want you to give him the devil. We'll stand by you, and if you go at him the right way you can scare the bat off his head. Come on, give it to him.” “I didn’t want to go, but Wagstaff Insisted. We went to the tent, where about a dozen of the Eightieth’s boys were waiting for the show, and I was introduced to the sutler as one of the worst of the whole lot of Bragg’s outlaws. The sutler was a man from Verj mont, a weazened-faced skinflint, as Wagstaff called him. He edged away from me about six feet and sized me up from head to foot. He slowly looked around the group, drew a long breath, *md opened-up all the valves of his linguistic batten-. He denounced me as a traitor, a thief, a murderer, a horse thief, and flung at me every bad name contained in the vocabulary Os wickedness. All this time Wagstaff sat behind the sutler, motioning for me to talk back to him. “By this time I was pretty mad, and, taking that advantage of him that a (soldier always has over a sutler when jtalking war, I denounced him as a money shark, a leech, robbing the men for rwhom he professed friendship, and then, when the battle was fought, talking about what ‘we’ did. In all my life I never saw so mad a man. He teeemed paralyzed for a moment, but I think he was preparing to spring upon pie when Wagstaff stepped between us jand pushed me out of the tent. After iwe got away Wagstaff lay down In the grass and roared until his sides ached. “The story spread, and for several days the boys were doming down to Shake hands with the reb who had downed the sutler The next morning I was taken down to camp by Wagstaff. I was a reb and Wagstaff was a Yank, but he was as kind, as jolly, and as wholesouled' a fellow as ever Ohio produced. •I wonder If he is alive. How I would like to hear that Jolly laugh again! And yet there are people who will not believe that friendship can exist between men who were opposed to each other in two different armies.” “I never could make people, understand,” said the major, “how it was possible for men who were fighting against each other furiously onb hour to fellowship with each other the next hour. In one of the charges at Stone River the first line of the Confederates and the first line of Union trops struck each other with such' force that full one-half of the Confederate regiment came over our first line and turned back to mingle in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle. Just then our second line caught them and they were compelled to surrender. When they realized the /Situation and when they heard the order to drop their guns they were in the very act of striking with clubbed muskets or with bayonets. “I can see now the change in the expressions of those faces as the men comprehended that they were helpless and must surrender. They lowered their guns, turned toward the men who had the drop on them, and with an air that was the vbry opposite of desperate, threw down their guns, took off their cartridge boxes, and In five minutes were chatting easily with the men whq had captured them. Among the prls-1 oners was one man who was very pale and very quiet, and I judged from his appearance that he had been wounded. In answer to my question he said he had been struck two or three times, but it didn’t matter. I looked at the wounds myself, and, improvising bandages! 1 managed to stop the bleeding, and when the prisoners were turned over to the guard to be taken to the rear I explained to the officer In charge that some consideration ought to be shown the wounded man. I thought I would remember that face, but I didn’t. Years later the man did me a great favor, and. In explaining his action, recalled to my mind the incident of that day, “At Lookout Mountain,” said the captain, “our regiment was among the climbers. We were not In the first line that surprised the Confederate regiments in the Intrdnchments, but we came up In time to see the prisoner's they were giving up their guns. Ou»‘ tan chaffed them a good deal about

their impregnable position, and they answered good-humoredly to the effect that their officers sad assured them that nobody could climb up the precipitous sides, and here'they were. After the battle of Missionary Ridge one battalion of our regiment was sent with those prisoners down to Bridgeport. The prisoners outnumbered us four to one, but we went jogging along with no thought of trouble, and became wejl acquainted. The prisoners were formed in four ranks, with one rank of nW® 2l blue on either side, and a front and rear. “Rests were ordered to suit the prisoners. They did not march well-, every few minutes they complained of fatigue, and the officer, in- command at first thought this-was an excuse for delay or for making trouble. He spoke impatiently and peremptorily to some of the men who were com flaming, when one of the sergeants looked up and said, ‘You must remember, colonel, that we have not been eating much lately.’ Instantly the haversat ks of the guard were at the service of the prisoners, ’and that night, wh»n they went into camp, full rations wjre Issued to every man, and our boys loaned them coffee buckets and tin cup s, that they might have their fill of really good coffee. I will never forget t tie eagerness with which these Con ’ederate prosiners formed In line for r: tions. I can never forget the good coir radeship that prevailed over their first taste of old government Java coffee. “On the second day’s march there was no complaint rbout fatigue, but some of the men had become stubborn and ugly, Their shies were not fit for marching, they were sore-footed and discouraged and disjnal, and the rear guard had great trouble . in keeping J them afoot. At one time several men i declined to move. As we had no ambulance and no insl ructions to parole J them, there was considerable excite- ! meat. The case was stated to a group of the Confederates in front and three sergeants went hurrying to the rear. Each one took hold of- a straggler and hustled him forward. From that to the -end of the ma •ch the prisoners themselves looked alter the insubordinate men of their own companies. I have met in business life a half dozen of the men who imide that trip with us as prisoners. We date our acquaintance from tha: time, and we take great comfort in reviving the memories of the trip from Lookout Mountain to Bridgeport.’—Chicago Inter-Ocean. Negroes tn the Army. “It is not necessary to revert to the civil war to prove that American negroes are faithful, he voted wearers of uniforms,” says a man -who has seen service In both the Army and the navy. ‘■There are at the!present time four regiments of negro soldiers in the regular army of the United States—-two outfits of cavalry and two of infantry. All four of these regiments have been under fire in important Indian campaigns, and there is yet to be recorded a single instance of i man in any of the four layouts showing the white feather -—and the two cavalry regiments of negroes have on several occasions found themselves in very serious situations. While the fact is well known out on the frontier, I don’t rei lember ever having seen it mentioned fa the East that an American Indian h is a deadly fear if an American negro The •> most utterly reckless, dare-devil savage of the copper hue stands literally in awe. of a negro, and the blacker the negro the more the Indian quails. I can’t understand why this sh< uld be, for the Indians decline to give their reasons for fearing the black men—but the fact remains that even a y ery bad Indian will give the mildest mannered negro imaginable all the rocm he wants, and to spare, as an old regular army soldier who has frontiered will tell you. The Indians, I fancy, at irlbute uncanny and eerie qualities to tl e blacks. “The Sioux will hand'down to their children’s children the Story of a charge that a couple of the negro cavalry troops made during the,Pine Ridge triubles. It was st the hight of the fracas; and the bad Indians were regularly lined up for. battle. These two blaA troops were ordered to make the initial swoop upon ihem. You know the noise one black man can make when he gets right down to the business of yelling. Well, these two troops of blacks started their terrific whoop in unison when they were a mile away from the waiting Sioux, an<f they got warmed up and in better practice with every jump their horses made. I give you my solemn word that in the ears of us of the white outfit the yelps those two negro troops of cavalry gave sounded like the carnival whooping of 10,000 devils. The Sloat? >■ weren’t scared a little bit by the a[ proaching clouds of alkali dust, but, iill the same, when the two black troops were more than a quarter of a mile away the Indians brpke and ran as if the old boy himself were after them, and it was then an easy matter to round them up and disarm them. Th? chiefs afterward /confessed that they were scared out by the awful howling If the black soldiers. “Ever since the war the United -States navy has had a fi.ir representation of negro bluejackets. andJjey make firstclass naval tars. Is not a ship in the navy to-day from six to a dozen, anyhow, of negroes on its muster rolls. The negro sailors names very rarely get enrolled on the bad conduct lists. They are obedient, sober men and good seam en. There are many petty officers among them.” Some men will pay ten cents for one cigar and - then kic|£ because they have to pay the same amount for a basket i of kindling wood.

BOYHOOD TOWN. Kind God, look down on Boyhood Town and keep it green forever, The long main street, with shade trees sweet, the wharf and the dreaming river 1 A * Oh, lead is there when bowed with care to hear its childhood story, Its song and speech of love that teach the light of love and glory I Ah, lead us down to Boyhood Town, when we are old and weary, To taste and know the golden glow of spirits fresh and cheery! Look down, we pray, on all that play in childhood’s bloomy valley; Keep sweet the street where little feet of youth and gladness rally; Keep fair the place, with pristine grace, that in our gray December We may be led with blithesome tread to love’s undying ember! Kind God, look down on Boyhood Town and keep its soft lights gleaming In gardens fair that blossoms there along loved paths of dreaming! Look down, look down, on Boyhood Town —for we are fain to follow The homeward way some well-a-day when all the world grows hollow! Guard' thou, and keep its yards that sleep along the old main highway, Its lanes that went where meadows end in Bloom-o’-Chi!dhood byway! With all its gleams, its joyful dreams, keep it, dear God, forever, Its shade trees sweet that line the street, the wharf and dreaming river!

SIOW i 11;. li (t a Si

As Mr. Vance entered the drawing room he caught sight of Enid Strangeways peeping out at him from amid in enormous shower of pink and white .roses. 1 „ “Good-morning, ‘Mr. Matchmaker, she said, shaking two or three roses apart,, and holding them up critically. “Aren't they lovely? Alfred has just this minute gone. If I had only known you were coming I. would have got him to wait. We have had no end of talk.” “And everything is decided? ’ inquir'd Denzil Vance, stooping to recover a fallen rose. “Yes. Everything. We wanted your advice on a host of things. You know how undecided Alfred is.’’ “On most points, yes. But on this one—” ■ “He was of two minds about everything, and his indecision became quite Infectious, until I began to realize that—’” “That—” f “Well/’—JobkUg up at Denzil and laughing, “that unless I took everything into my own hands our engagement would drift on and on until it became as permanent as a national institution. And everybody Would point to us and say, ‘Look, this is the Engaged Couple,’ just as people go to the Metropolitan museum and say, “Look, those are the Japanese Gods.’ ” “And iso you put the matter to Alfred —” ft “Quite practically ? Yes. and he fully agreed with everything I said. So now everything is arranged and nothing will be altered.” “But I suppose your people will have the opportunity of modifying any little arrangement should they wish it?”* “No,” said Enid deliberately. “I mean,” explained Vancd, “you consulted—” “We didn’t consult anybody. You see. in this one instance Alfred and I are deterfnined to be independent, and we solemnly vowed that nobody should, have any power to upset our plans. Up to the present, everybody has been arranging our affairs, and —and —we haven’t had a chance. We both agreed that we hadn’t a chance to do as we like, and we decided that the time had come to put both feet down, as papa says.” “And what does the process of putting both feet down involve?” asked Denzil, Inhaling the perfume of a rose. “Well,” a little pause; “we thought It best to put the matter in writing.'ln that note on the writing table Alfred has told you everything we propose to do.” Denzil: went towards the table and found the letter among a numbet of cuttings from fashionable papers announcing in the usual terms the engagement between Alfred Callaby and ■Enid Strangeways. In some it gave the additional information that “the marriage will shortly take place!” He took up the note and poised it between his fingers. His face was rather solemn. “But before you open it,” said Enid, tugging resolutely at a refractory fern stalk; “I want to thank you for all you have done.” Vance looked abashed. “For all I have done?” “Yes. Don’t you remember that it was you who brought us together. It was exactly this time last year—” “Oh, of course; on this very day—” “In this very room—” “Yes,” nodded Denzil, gaining a little r®sre assurance. “That you were called in and consulted on a most important question. Nothing less than— ’’ and the girl broke off with a laugh. g ‘Than the future of Miss Enid Strangeways. Yes, I recollect. But why do you recall the fact so pointedly? I hoped—” and here the voice became lower and more deliberate; “that you had forgotten about that.” “I was to arrive home in three days from the convent of St. Cecile. The whole household was in a flutter of excitement. Everybody wopdered what I should be like. Should I be frightfully prim and old-world like, or lumpish, or what I I had been away so long that mamma was afraid I should be tremendously old-fashioned and stiff—-

■1 a«d—and—generally impossible. ‘Remember,’ she said, as she shoojk your hand. ‘Enid will be an heiress—her uncle’s favorite. Above all things, she must marry well. Now, Mr. Vahce, you must help us.’ I can just imagine mamma’s earnest, way: ‘Now, Mr. Vance, you must help us.’ ” ■ “Miss Stranegeways,” protested Denzil; “is this kind?” . J “Here’s a thing, and a very pretty thing,” laughed Enid to a bdnch of nodding roses; “who shall be the owner of this pretty thing?” “Why do you repeat It all—like this?” ’ The roses were shaken rather violently as the voice behind then proceeded : “‘I will call the owner,’ you at once cried, thereby .allaying to a great extent the family apprehensions. ‘Fortunately,’ you said. ‘I have somebody who will take the pretty thing off your hands ’ ” “Remember, I had not seen you then.” “Alli the more praise for your generous choice. Now, if it had been a mere chance, a haphazard suggestion on your part—l—” “A haphazard suggestion,” he repeated, with more than usual seriousness. “Yes; that would have been different.” “And supposing ” began Vance, with the air of a penitent. But Enid cut him short. “Os course, you are a lawyer and a man of the world. Mamma has such perfect confidence in your judgment that she fell in with your scheme at once.” il Miss Strangeways, I assure you 1 never dreamed for an instant my suggestion would have been taken up. Can’t you see how it all happened? The drawing room full of people chattering about you. drawing imaginary pictures of your taste, appearance, and so on. Uncle Herbert, in one corner, saying you ought to be worth at least a railroad president. Aunt Sophie confiding to her opposite the difficulty of getting off some of her sister’s children?” “Yes, dear Aunt Sophie——” “You see, the whole thing was in the air, so to speak; you were to be thrfnvn into the society of some one.” “It was a tremendous joke.” “All sorts of impossible people’s names were mentioned,” said Denzil, half in self-defense. ‘Td save me from which you very nobly suggested Alfred.” “Oh, only in fun. 1 We were laughing ” ■ ■ “You knew him?” “We have always been close friends,” “And you promised mamma,” said Enid, stroking a rose softly“to—to throw us together ” “I had not seen you. If I had only known ——” “Oh. but that increased your] latitude. I might have been simply horrid.” “I was half in jest. I never thought for a moment the thing would be received so seriously.” “Os course not. It isn’t really serious at all. Marriages nowadays ” “Don’t be cruel. Surely you can see how I have meted out my own punishment. I would give anything not to have said it. The only consolation I have Is that Alfred is my best friend.” It was strange how the briary stems of the roses would hang themselves on the sides of the bowl and refuse to be placed in an orderly manner, and when they : kept tumbling about they drew sb much water away with them that soon the little rosewood table was in a state of flood. Vance took out his handkerchief and built up a- little cambric dyke. Enid watched him unprotestingly, and both stood together in silence for a few moments. Presently She said: “After all, Alfred is not so bad. He has at least one idea, in three weeks, which, as men go nowadays, Is encouraging, isn’t it?” “He's better than hundreds,” began Vance.

"Oh, yes; I know I ought to be very grateful. After ( all, as you say. I might have done worse. He’s a capital polo player, isn’t he?” “Yes.” “And a tolerable bridge partner. Perhaps his laugh is a little too strident, and his expression just a wee bit vacant, .but we can’t all be intellectual, and, as Uncle Herbert says, intellectual people are frightfully rapid eaters. And then, he’s so rich he really doesn’t need bi^misa r And as you have arranged he isstodnianrpyome—of course it doesn’t mattere-Cfdfftagtr” “OklJi sttefetaShid?” “%aRI horribly ungrateful andßut 1 was S° in & to say. L ffed had a little more sympathy diarm, and one or two of those hundrecl little unnameable graces that attract a girl. And I suppose alfWenareselfish, and mamma is gftiu men make much the in the long run. So I supj?b^e' v iA'kfTft<''Alfred all round, any girl him ought to feel very foMHiaite.” “I think s&,y acquiesced Vance, with a quaver. | “And to think that it was all y»ur doing.” “Only the first part,” in tones of eager denial. “And then Alfred’s presents. Look at these lovely roses! Aren’t they perfect? Do you tell him to get me roses because you know I love them best of all flowers, or is it quite his own idea?” “Well. I did suggest ” T knew it. And the operas. Always my favorite one. That was you, too. , I must say, Denzil. you have thrown us together under the very best circumstances. and if you should ever set up as a real matrimonial agent ” Enid looked up. and, catching sight of Efehzil’s rueful expression, began to laugh. He tried to join in. but failed. “Well.” he said, turning aside; “I deserve it.” Enid dropped softly on to the sofa. “I think I -ought to tell you.” she said, pressing her fincers Into the springs of the sofa and becoming suddenly very grave and mysterious, “that I have found out things about Alfred.” Denzil became alarmed. “Why, what do you mean?” “I mean be isn’t as fond of me as he was.” “Nonsense-” “In fact he—he has admitted it.” “Admitted it! Alfred has?” “Um!” Enid nodded. A look of perplexity. came over Vance's face as he stood there'following with his eye the girl’s forefinger which ran up an down the pattern of the sofa. “You mustn’t believe it; really you mustn't.” he said, rather huskily. “I try not to,” returned Enid, bravely. “As long as you—you—love him,” continued Vance, with a convulsive effort, as if “love” were an extremely difficult word to pronounce. “Yes.” acquiesced she. “I understand that, but even if he is tired of me he might have kept it back for another fortnight; Would you think it hard to pretend to be very, very much In loveAvlth me for a fortnight?” Thus directly appealed to, Vance stammered out some quite Inaudible reply. Then he tried to explain what he had said and became incoherent. In the midst of h ; is confusion, Enid came to his assistance. * ' “Anyhow, we dont mean to alter our plans now. And. if Alfred doesn’t care for me, it isn’t his fault, is it?” “But, Enid ——” began Denzil, rather hopelessly. T know it’s very horrid and unreasonable.” • “But you are really convinced ttrat' Alfred returns your love?”p “I thought he was very fond of mp until this maiming. But now I know he doesn’t care a rap for me. But there, what’s the use of discussing it? Everything’s settled.” “But it must be altered,” protested Vance. “No,” said Enid, with imperturbable "decision. Vance bent over the arm bf the sofa, and spoke with great fervor: “It would be madness.” Enid answered with an air of stoical resignation: were thrown together. You ought to be the last person in the world to try and . upset our plans. It was your idea from the first.” : “Yes,” admitted he, lamely. “But I thought Alfred——” “If he slips through our fingers, it l may be years before we can find an eligible substitute. And —and—l’m ■ aging very rapidly.” Vance leaned forward and gazed Into the fresh, glowing face. . ■ ■ “Enid,, you are not serious.” “Oh. I don’t know; but I am determined.” “What to do?” “To carry out our plans to the letter.” “In the face'of your—what you have found out about Alfred’s real feelings towards you?” . “In the face of everything.” Denzil, bewildered by the girl’s determination, walked in a reflective way towards the writing table, where his eye caught sight of Alfred’s note which he had laid down in order to administer to the roses. He regarded it with mixed feelings. Was it a sarcastic diatribe against matchmakers? No, Alfred’s resentment would take the form of a mild, childlike invective against Fate, custom and Vance; a helpless sort of appeal, the timid censorious cries, and the waving of the arms of a drowning man. He would not actually blame Vance, but he would hit all round it. And already Vance felt the stinging little reproaches of a man who is perpetually squaring himself menacingly, but never actually dellverimr a blow. x

He picked up the letter and opened it. This is what he read: “My Dear Denzil —Enid and I have agreed to break off our engagement. We both feel that the whole thing was arranged by disinterested people, without any consideration of what we liohl to be really important, that is. our own personal feelings in the matter. We are sorry thes*' should not accord with everybody else’s—and particularly yours. To be quite candid witli you. I have considerable hopes in another direction. This makes it a little rough on Enid, I know. But don’t drop the case just because I have fallen out. She quite expects you will see her through another stage. Who else have you got on your books for her? Yours ever, ALFRED.” Vance folded the note cogitatively and directed his gaze towards the girl, whose beautiful face was turned slightly away from him. “It’s very humiliating,” she said. “What will everybody say? After all our preparations. Mamma so counted on my being married this' year. She has taken such a lot of trouble about my clothes, and told everybody what—what a splendid matchmaker you are. It will simply ruin your reputation.” “Couldn’t I see Alfred?” suggested Vance, enthusiastically. “Perhaps, after all. if I put it to him how devotedly you were attached to him ” “But I’m not,” protested Enid. “What. you. too, feel that—that——” “I was never deeply, really deeply in love with him. Os course, he’s nice—- “ Enid, if I had only known this before,” said Denzil. coming closer and speaking with a quite surprising degree of ’emotion. . “You —you might have seen it. Other people did. I thought you kneiv. too. but that your professional pride ' prevented you recognizing any feelings that might endanger the carrying out of your idea. Because, of course, mamma’s confidence in you will now be utterly shattered.” “I don’t mind that,” said Vance, heroically. “That’s all very well, but think of me,” said Enid in injured tones. “I’m stranded, you know. You promised mamma you would marrv-me— I mean tqjpsomebody.” ( \ The little quiver of the lip was not lost upon Vance. He was "so near he could hardly help seeing it. The morn-, ing sun broke out. shedding a soft golden light across the room and on to the sofa, bathing the girl’s brown bead in a warm radiance. “What are you going to do?” asked Enid timidly. “Remember your reputation as a matchmaker is at stake. Mamma —and —and I shpll expect something from you.” . Vance’s tones were more assured than they had been all the morning. “What will you say. Enid.” he said, tenderly, “when I tell you that Alfred’s was absolutely the last name I had on my books.” “Oh, dear,” with a little touch of chagrin. “But I see what a dreadful predic iment it places you in. You might to be married.” “Yes, if —only to save your reputation.” ‘Then I see no other course open to me.” “Why, what do you mean to do?” “Marry you myself.” She laughed as she looked up into Denzil’s face and gave him to understand that under the circumstances she would consent to sacrifice herself—to save his reputation, and. he made a solemn promise to give up matchmaking.y**l think you had better, dear.’’ said Enid, “if it would mean,having to marry all your failures.” —Black and White. The Faster Nag. A writer, relating some of the incidents of General Grant's last days, tells in the Century Magazine this anecdOL?of the ex-President. He was, as everyone knows, very fond of horses, and while spending a summer at Long Branch was accustomed to take a daily drive behind a noted trotter. By courtesy, although often against his wish, he was always given a free and open course. One day while jogging along he noticed in a casual way a farmer and his wife, who, with a single horse and errand wagon, were just ahead, evidently returning from market. On attempting to “draw alongside” and pass the couple, there was a race on in a moment. The fanner chirped in a peculiar way, and his horse squatted into a longgaited and easy trot. Altogether it was a veritable surprise to tlie other driver, with his “professional trotter” and light road wagon. But the farmer kept the lead in spite of General Grant’s efforts to overtake him. Occasionally through the dust lit. could see the farmer's wife look back to note’ their relative positions. Final ly, after a mile heat, the farmer “slowed up” a little to allow the general to come within hearing distance. “Did he know who it was?” General Grant* was asked. “Oh, yes,” he replied. ‘The man simply said, ‘General, you’ve got a good one,’ and then I allowed him to go on.” J Remarkable Use of Books. Liverpool has a library of 280,000 volumes. The number of books taker home during the last year was 1,362.000, while 1.410,444 were used for reference in the library. In other words, each book was on the average used ten times. 4, How* often you hear this statement around, business houses : “He has gone to lunch.” * Look long enough, and you will find the weak spot in everyone.

MY OWN FAMILY USE! PE-RU-NA. r“ . I' g|P**** W P A HON. GEORGE W. HONEY. Hon. George W. Honey, National Chaplain U. V. U., ex-Chaplain Fourth Wisconsin Cavalry, ex-Treasurer State of Wisconsin,, and exrQuartermaster General State of Texas G. A. R-. writes from 1700 First St.,-N. Washington, D. C., as follows : ■ - “I cannot too highly recommend your preparation for the relief of catarrhal troubles in their various forms. Some members of my own family have rnsed ,it with most gratifying results. When other remedies failed, Peruna proved most efficacious ahd I cheerfully certify to its curative excellence?” 1 Mr. Fred L. Hebard,. for nine years a reading photographer of Kansas City, Mp., located at the northeast corner of 12th and Grand Aves.> cheerfully gives the following testimony: '“lt is a proven fact that Peruna will cure catarrh and la grippe, and as a tonic it has no equal. Druggists have tried to make-me take something? else ’just as good,’ but Peruna is good enough for me.” Pe=ru»na in Tablet Form. For two years Dr. Hartman and his assistants have incessantly labored to create Peruna in tablet form, and their strenuous labors-have just been crowned >ith success. People who object to liquid medicines can now secure Peru0a tablets, which represent the solid I medicinal ingredients of Peruna.' A Blind . Man’s Ruse. "My gre-it-uncle, who was blind.” said a Frenchman, “once buried $4,000 in gold louis under a pear tree' in his garden. His neighbor saw him do it; and in the dead of night came and stole the money, replacing the earth carefully. “iSome days later my uncl< brought fifty more louis down to tl pear trea for burial. He soon dis covered fils loss, and. silently weeping he, too, replaced the earth. I ; “He knew whom to suspe< t. and that night he called on his neighbor. I He seemed thoughtful and distrait, and!the neighbor askeji him what oppressed his mind. ' 1 “ ‘Well. I’ll tell you,’ said my greatuncle frankly. ‘I have 1.060 loqis hid away in a safe place, and to-day a tenant paid off a mortgage, and I have another 1,000 louis in cash on my hands. I don’t know whether to seek out-another hiding place for this money or put it where the other is. What do you advise?’ “’Why,’ said the neighbor eagerly, ‘if your first hiding place is safe —and you declare it to be So—l should certainly put this money there too.’ “My great-uncle said firmly that that was what he would do. It was the wisest course. Then he took his leave. “And when next day he went to the pear tree again there, sure enough, was his lost 1,000 louis, all put back again.” New Industry. I “Who is that striking looking man. near the head of the table?” asked one »f the guests. \ “That’s Mr. Jypes.” answered the oth« j|r. “He’s a blood boiler." “What! A workman at the stock yards?" ■ * ■ “No, no; don’t you understand? He writes these shocking stories of corporation cruelty to children and. ignorant employes that you read in the Magazines.” — Chicago Tribune. if Are Your Clothes Faded! Use Red Cross Balt Blue and make them white again. Large 2oz. package, 0 cents. A Remarkable. Church. At Stiviehall, near Coventry. England, there is a Unique place of worship. In 1810 John Green, a stonemason of a strongly religious turn of mfnd, laid the first stone of the edifice, and seven years later he completed the building. In all that time he had assistance from no one, doing all the work with his own hands until the ehurch was ready for its interior fittings. Wooden and even brick buildings erected ‘by one or two men are not uncommon, but this is she. only structure in England and probably in the world of which, every stbne wai? laid by one man. The building accommodates quite a large congregation, and the church derives a considerable revenue from the contributions of sightseers who are drawn to the place through curiosity.

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