The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 41, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 6 February 1913 — Page 6

REWARD FOR HONESTY Young Politician Who Refused • Bribe Is Given a Coveted Nomination. By H. M. EGBERT. It was to be a close election in Portersburg—on *hat everyone was agreed. Higgins had represented the tity in the legislature for fifteen rears, but Higgins had got out of the game and gone to New York to settle there, and the opposing party hoped to snatch the victory. Their candi-1 late was Pleat, a man of reputed in- j tegrity and much wealth, the ov ner j as the huge eighteen-story Pleat building, which could not have been matched for size within five hundred miles 3 f St. Louis. And Pleat had been the most successful mayor the city had , ever known. He had cleaned up Porcersburg; he had wiped out the slum districts; he had forced through the . ardinance for resurveying and regrad-, : ng the city streets in spite of an an- : tagonistic City government. Higgins | party seemed likely to nominate Ben-I ‘.on to succeed him, and Pleat hoped to snatch the victory out of his hands. And it seemed probable that he would, for Benton would stand little chance against the forceful ex-mayor. But there was no man of known abil- . Ity within the party ranks to succeed Higgins, and ■Benton was a compromise candidate. Benton would probably be nominated the following week, and . Pleat’s adherents counted the victory is won. This was the situation as it outlined itself to Roger Hewett. Hewett was a surveyor by occupation, but until the passing of Pleat’s ordinance he had only paid his office rent by mortgaging the little home which he and his girl wife had purchased with their small capital when they vrere married, a year before. The house was mortgaged to the Indemnity company, and Pleat had a controlling finger in this, as in most other industrial and commercial enterprises in Portersburg. V The convention which was expected to nominate Benton had been in session some days and would not cornplete its labors until the following week. Although he knew the folly of ' antagonizing Pleat further, Hewett had beeg assuming a leading part in Its deliberations. Pleat had, indeed, openly conveyed his sense of displeasure. He had used more subtle measures also. That morning the managers of three banks had refused Hewett an increase upon his mortgage, although the value of the property warranted this. He must wait till after election, they told him. And Pleat’s company could and probably would foreclose within a week. “Mary,” said Hewett to his young wife, “the situation seems to be this: If I crawl to Pleat and get out of poll- j tics he’ll probably let us stay on in • our little home and perhaps throw me : some work later. If he gets into the I legislature he can undoubtedly turn j the screw in either direction. If I | don’t crawl —well, we’ll have ,to look : for another home,” “I .want you to do what is right, dear,” his wife answered, and put her arms lovingly about his neck. “Just do what is right, Roger, and—never mind the home.” That had' happened yesterday. Now Hewett sat in his barely furnished office fronting on the city square, studying some blue draught sheets that lay on the desk. But he was thinking harder than studying. Nobody but HewetdOHß- -that the great Pleat building a foot and a half upon the city sidewalk. Nobody else cared. Nobody else would ever have dreamed of resurveying that section of the financial district of i Portersburg Yet this error meant' that Pleat would have to shear off a Coot and a half of his great building i down a vertical line of eighteen sto- > ries. He would merely have to remain si- ! lent. If his report went is* it migb* : might not pass unnoticed. He Lnew that the chief surveyor » creature of Pleat’s, would at least withhold the ■ discovery for \ few weeks, until Pleat had carried the municipal and state' —-fckfcts to victory. Then the ordinance i would either be repealed or never act-; ed on, and Hewett’s report would be j bo much waste paper. He had hardly reached his office the next morning before the telephone rang. Hewett took down the receiver. Pleat was at the other end. “O. Mr. Hewett,” he said, “would you be so kind as to step over to my office at once?” The tones were suave and bland —too suave for one of Pleat’s overbearing disposition, the surveyor thought. Hewett stood considering. “I'll be over in five minutes,” he answered, after a moment’s pause. “You can see me at once?” “At once and alone,” Pleat answered. He was as good as his word, despite his manifold interests, for Hewett was e agreeably conscious of being ushered past a dozen or more men of .all kinds, financial magnates, political leaders, business men, into Pleat’s fine office with its mahogany fittings and oriental rugs. Pleat rose and extended his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Hewett,” he said. “The Indemnity company has, I understand, advanced you $4,000 on mortgage upon your home at 79 K street?” “Yes, Mr. Pleat,” the surveyor replied. “And you have applied for an increase of SI,OOO. The matter was only brought to my attention yesterday. I have expressed the wish that this be granted, making the amount $5,000. with interest at 4 per cent, instead of 4%. But, Mr. Hewett, pardon my <TU’esticn, but how do you propose to pay this sum? The Indemnity com--1 does not like to foreclose. Have you in view after your present t ( ask W completed?” “Nd, sir,” said Hewett. looking full at the smiling visage cf the financier. “Tino bad!” sighed Pleat, “0f course, your \unfortunate affiliation with the opposing party would preclude me, if I shotaid win the election, from considerirfy your interests. If you were offeret nomination as state surveyomd ' w—you wouldn’t change your cos* 9 V pO ». erf course not. But. Mr. Hewetk understand that Mr. Blake resi jL 1 ’ f rom water commis-

sion, a strictly non-partisam- body. Suppose you were appointed to succeed him at once by Governor Briggs?” Hewett’s heart leaped. The salary was $5,000 a year‘That would involve no sacrifice of principle on my part?” he asked, moistening his dry lips. “None whatever,” answered Pleat "You would simply lay down your present office forthwith and step into your new one during the course of a day or two. Os course your successor would take over all your duties." llewett knew what was coming. “For instance, you wculd probably be willing to recall your report of yes- | terday upon the survey of White ; street, which will not be acted on . I officially until the next meeting of the ! survey board?” Hewett rose up. “You can’t buy me that way or any way, Mr. Pleat,” he answered, taking his hat, and he saw Pleat’s face grow purple. For a moment the financier hesitated: then he came forward with j the agility of a boy. He was trembling. too. “For $20,000,” he whispered, and ! began plucking at his sleeve. “Come ■ here! It’s in my desk! Don’t be a ■ fool and cut your own throat, young | man. Who’s backing you in this? My ! God, it will cost me a quarter of a mil- , lion if that report goes through. Your j last chance! —and I’ll make it $30,000, $40,000, any price within reason. Look here! It’s all in bills and gold. Come and let me show you?” Somehow Hewett escaped from the .room. His last view was of the old man standing before his desk and tossing great bundles' of bills hither and thither like an infuriated child. Men came to see Hewett that afternoon and the next day and the next, and, tn guarded language, unfolded various propositions to the effect that he should make peace with Pleat. Hewett showed them to the door. On the third day the Indemnity company served him with a foreclosure notice. Then he told Mary everything. “You have done right, dear,” she said. “You couldn’t have done otherwise. And I’m proud of you. I couldn’t live here happily If you had sold your soul to Pleat. We’ll make another home somewhere —but one can never make honor of dishonor.” They packed their things and engaged a couple of rooms in a poorer part of the city. Hewett knew that his occupation was gone. He did not even go down to his office. But that afternoon, going to the convention from his new abode, with the reek of new paint in his nostrils and his heart weighed down with bitterness, he made his last speech for Benton. It was the last day of the session and the nomination would be made that afternoon. As Hewett mounted the platform he became aware that there was an indefinable unrest in the air. The delegates were watching him i and whispering together, something j was brewing, someone had mooted something—everyone in the hall knew j it except Hewett. He did not know now bitterly he j spoke, nor the impassioned nature of ' his plea for purer politics, a cleaner I civic spirit. He thought that he was urging Benton’s election on these grounds, but in reality he was pleading for his lost home and the homes of all who had to choose between dishonor and the happiness of those they loved. He did not wait for the nomination, but, his duty done, left the hall. Outside the representatives of three papers were waiting for him. “Mr. Hewett!” one of the men began. He shook him off and left him. He tramped two miles through the rain, went up to his rooms and sat down dismally upon the unpacked furniture. Men were tramping up the -gcairs. i The door was thrown open. / Mary stood there; with her were' a halfdozen men. He knew their faces, he ' had seen them at the convention. His brain was whirJZLg. Who were they? j The well-known names escaped him. i “Mr. Hewett.” said somebody, “the convention has tendered you the nomination for the legislature.” Hewett looked up vacantly. ■ “Will you accept? We’ll win, with you—there isn’t a doubt. You’ve seen the ‘Evening Dispatch?”’ He held up , a newspaper. There, in huge black ! letters that spread themselves across ! the page, Hewett read the story of his discovery. The facts had been , made known that afternoon. The qhief surveyor had abandoned Pleat, i Everything was known —his conversation with the financier, the foreclosure; his speech was there verbatim, that speech of the afternoon. Hewett began to understand. “He accepts,” he heard his wife cry triumphantly. She came toward him and kissed him in the presence of all. “Roger,” she said, “don’t you understand? You’re going to the legislature next fall for Portersburg. Speak to them, Roger!” He understood now and came forward. “My wife has answered for me—i God bless her—gentlemen,” he said. (Copyright. 1912. by W. G. Chapman.) Prematurely Gray. A New York dramatic writer tells ’ of an actress of great popularity who _ is just beginning to be obsessed with the notion that the public holds hei to be older than she really is. ' ’ The writer was assigned to inter- ’ view this player. He wished to obtain • her views with reference to the state . j of the drama, a topic whereon the act ress did not seem particularly anxious . j to descant. r “It does not seem to me,” gently [ suggested the interviewer, with a > smile, that I am really ascertaining your opinion. You ought to be frank, f since your eyes are gray and —” r “Prematurely so, my dear boy, pre- > maturely so,” the actress hastened to - assure him. —Judge. > . His Deprivation. “Yes, I’m gting to send my boy to 1 college. I.want him to have the advantages 1 was deprived of.” “I suppose you had to begin earn ? ing your living when you were his f age.” “No, not that exactly.” . . “Didn’t your father believe in t - college education?” - “Oh, yes, he believed in it, ah right, but the girl I was engaged ta > didn’t happen to live in a college town.”

GRANT CHILD RIGHTS LET HIM MOLD HIMSELF, IS AD* VICE GIVEN BY WRITER. Putting It In Another Way, a Little "Letting Alone” Is a Wise Course for Parents to Pursue—Matter of Freedom. Let your children alone. Do not neglect them. There Is a difference between a wise letting alone and a foolish neglect. There have been probably as many children spoiled by over-management i as by negligence. i Don’t forget that the prime right I of a child is the right to his own ; personality. In fact, his chief business in life Is to develop properly the expression of that personality. How can he do this if he is continually hedged and thwarted by you? A child learns by three means —by I experience, by example and by atmos--1 phere. It is doubtful if didactic teaching : and preaching ever did much good to anybody, child or grown-up. Only inspirational preaching Is of any ac- - count. To let the child touch the stove and get hurt a little is far better than to -say “You mustn’t touch It!” Be chary of your commands. Every useless order is a burden that interferes with his growth and tends to alienate him from you. Let him run as free ’as you dare. One lesson he learns from his own experience is worth a dozen he gets from you. How many little lives are rendered utterly wretched by the loving but ir. ritating tyranny of parents. The little ones are crossed at every turn. The mother is continually scolding, the father breaking in at times with sharp prohibitions. The queer part of all this is that those parents think they are doing their high duty by the child. They propose to give their children some “bringing up” and not let them “run wild.” So they cramp, thwart, oppose the growing mind. Children are sharp. They soon adjust themselves to this, and get their parents’ measure. Then they turn to become one or two things—“good," that is, shrewd little hypocrites, prigs and time-servers; or “bad,” that is, angrily insistent upon having a life of their own. Study the child, seek to bring oui what is in him. Don’t study your catechism or “system of education" and try to make your child measure up to that. There is no genuine morality without freedom. Anything done from fear is immoral. Even the “goodness” your child puts on because he is afraid of you it wicked. Quit trying to mold your child. Stand by and help him. Let him mold himself. Be his friend. Let him feel you understand him. A lot of our “moral principle” is mere self-conceit and vanity of opinion, and we think we are doing God’s services when we impose our egotism on others, particularly upon helpless youth. Study the child, live with him, enter Into his life and poifit of view, encourage him in what lie wants to do, sympathize with him. —Exchange. Mysterious Number 9. Has it ever occurred to you that strange feats may be performed with figures? Multiply the figure 9, for instance. Multiply it by 2 and you get 18, and 8 and 1 make 9. Five 9’s are 45, and 5 and 4 make 9 again. Three 9’s’ are 27, and 7. and 2 make 9. Four 9’s are 36, and 6 and 3 make 9. Nine is indeed a mysterious number. Take any row of figures you fancy, say 8642, and if you reverse them and subtract, 8642 —2468, you have left 6174, which added together, makes 18, or twice 9. Take., the 18, and 8 and 1 make 9 again. If you take five figures, say 76543, reverse them, 34567, and subtract, you get 41976, which, added together, makes 27—that is, 7 and 2 make 9, or three 9’s are 27. Thirty-seven is another number specially adapted for figure juggling. Multiplied by 3, 37 becomes 111, and no matter what multiple of 3 you use, the figures in the result will be all alike. Twelve times 37 is 444, 37 times 21 becomes 777 and so on.-—An-swers. Brittany Bridal Superstitions. It is interesting to note the number I of shrines in Brittany dedicated to ■ marriage. “At Ploumanach, a village on the northern coast,” says a writer in Country Life, “there is a shrine picturesquely situated amid the rocks which the sea washes round every day. Only at low tide can one clamber over the rocks to the canopied figure of St. Guerin. When a Breton girl desires to many she sticks a pin In the nose of this saint; should it drop out within the year she believes her desire will be fulfilled. On another occasion, near Douarrenez, in the Finistere district, I came across a small shrine decorated with orange blossoms in a hedgerow, where a young girl whom I had previously seen tending her flocks was kneeling in prayer, after which she rose and dropped a pin down the well. By questioning her I found that it was the custom there to drop a pin down thej well before the saint, and eventually, after the wedding ceremony, th® bridal blossoms were brought and hung round the shrine.”—Tit Bits. Making the Best of Things. 1 Mr. Paterfamilias was having an economical streak. “Am I going to have to buy new winter underwear for the whole faml--1 ly this year?" he asked. “No, dear,” answered Mrs. P.» brightly cheerful. “Your flannels have shrunk enough to fit Johnny, and 1 'Johnny’s have shrunk so that Billy can wear them, and Billy’s are now small enough for the baby. All you have to do is to get some for yourself —I have my fur neckpiece.” Just think how you can save on the 1 high cost of living by having a big 1 and well graded family.—-Exchange. 1 ’ * ;

\\ o/ j \ /Y\ 11 iw ■' —~~~— 7

T is rumored that a Danish expedition is to be sent to explore the wonderful group of rock-monuments and sites in Central Asia I Minor which attests the i short-lived splendor of the Phrygian kingdom be-

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tween, say, 800 and 650 B. C. That someone should do this with adequate funds and official support has long been desired devoutly. The extraordinary and enigmatic character of the monuments, the place which their makers hold in Greek story on the one hand, and, possibly, in Assyrian annals on the other —the significance of the position which they occupied on the great east-west roads of prePersian times —the mys ery which obscures t'heir origin and the uncertainty of their ultimate fate —all these considerations combine to make the excavation of the central site, and a survey of its neighborhood, most important for archaeologists and historians. We know no ancient name for that central site—it sems to have been as nameless in the later Greek and the Roman times as now —and ; for want of a better, Ramsay, who has explored the district more thoroughly |, than anyone else, called it the Midas ; City. i This name was suggested to him by the great tomb —if it be one —which is the principal monument of the place and of the disTlict and, in its way, of all Asia Minor. I saw it twenty-five years ago. and still hold it without a rival of its kind. A cliff nearly one hundred feet high has been artificially scarped from top to bottom and cut back to a smooth face, an interlacing fret design being left standing out in relief over the whole vast expanse. At the foot is a small false door; at the top the rock has been shaped into a noble pediment, like that of a Gfeek temple, and inscribed, in large Greek-looking Phrygian characters, with words among which stands out the name of Midas, son of Lavaltas, The boldness of the whole conception on that great scale, its faultless execution, and the rich simplicity of the decoration produce the most powerful impression. Standing before it, but far enough away to take in the general effect, one confesses it is not to be surpassed. And one can imagine the feeiings of Martin Leake when, having arrived and camped in the valley after dark one night in 1800. allunconscious, like everybody else in Europe, that such a thing existed, he woke to see the tomb of Midas in the first light of morning. A tomb it should be on the analogy of lesser monuments in the district which have its facade, of something like it, in miniature; but no burial chamber of Midas has been detected. The lesser tombs often show reliefs of human figures, or of lions, or both —sometimes of the Phrygian Cybele guarded by her lions. After the Midas tamb, the most famous are the Lion tombs at Ayazinn, some distance to the south. One of these, now fallen in huge fragmens, has not only magni-. ficent lions of very Asyrian appearance on the sides (It was made out of a projecting bastion of rock), but a relief of two warriors in crested helmets attacking a strange Gorgon creature with their leveled spears; the other has two rampant lions guardnig its door, which have often been compared to the rampant beasts over the gate of the citadel at Mj cenae. Some of the smaller tombs in

New Body as Pardon Plea. Joseph Kirwin, sentenced at Cleveland, 0., in 1903 to life imprisonment in Leavenworth (Kan.) prison for robbery on the great lakes, has appealed for a pardon on the ground that a complete change in the tissues of the bodj which scientists say occurs every sev - cn years, has cured him of a crime mania which caused him to commit the offense of which he was found guilty. While under the charge of robbery on the lakes, which is akin to piracy, Kirwin wras tried on a charge

Her Infinite Variety. A% we sit down and ponder over the summer courtship we find the hand that wielded the canoe paddle now wields the broom. The suppers on river banks are now in a small dining room. The gazing at the sky in summer time is now looking to see if the wash can safely be put out. The hand in the wash tub is the bard that that trailed over the canoe sid i'ae soft voice in quiet lanes is noDon’t you think it’s a cruel world?— tJrkwnod Courier.

the district also are well worth no-1 tice. especialy one in the wooden glen of Bakshish, which stands free, fashioned like q house. ’Altogether these make a singular group of monuments, as much in need of further exploration as is the great citadel above the Midas tomb, with its long ramp flanked by carved rock-faces and its inscribed rock-altars. We wish to learn many things from this exploration. Os what race were these kings called Midas, who seemed .to the Greeks of the west country so godlike, and left such legends of their wealth? How much of the peninsula did they rule? Whence did they derive the art with which their tombs were made, and the letters with which they were inscribed ? Were they the same as those kings called Mita, who, according to Assyrian annals, marshalled the people of the Muski against Sargon and Ashurbanipal? If they were, they must have been lords of no mean territory; for the Muski were un- j doubtedly the dominant race in Cappadocia too. They had once raided even i to Mesopotamia, and brought out an i Assyrian king. Tiglath Pileser 1., in I full strength against them; and. when j j they retired across the Euphrates, j they perhaps continued to hold its western bank with the great fortress of Carchemish. Had they spread also to Phrygia? Mita may be Midas, but it also may be the name of a merely Cappadocian king It was of old standing in the Mesopotamian east, where had long dwelt the “people of | Mita,” the Mitanni Moreover, the j Muski seem to have adopted Hattl

SWINBURNE CLOSE TO DEATH

Great English Poet Thought of Unfinished Work When He Was About Drowned. The poet’s emotions in the face of death ought not to be unworthy of record when that poet happens to be one of the greatest of his time, if not of all time. Swinburne nearly lost his life in the summer of 1868 while bathing. The timely, appearance of a fishing smack prevented the premature silencing of the voice that was presently to entrance the world with the 'Songs Before Sunrise.” I asked him what he thought about in that dreadful contingency, and he replied that he had no experience of what people often profess to witness, the concentrated panorama of past life hurrying across the memory. He did not reflect on the past at .all. He was filled with annoyance that he had not finished his “Songs Before Sunrise,” and then with satisfaction that so much of it was ready for the press, and that Mazzini would be pleased with him. “I reflected with resignation that 1 was exactly the same age as Shelley was when he was drowned,” he said. This, however, was not the case. Swinburne had reached that age in March, 1867; but this was part of a curious delusion oi' Swinburne’s that he was younger by two or three years than his real age. Then he began to be, I suppose, a little benumbed by the water, his thoughts fixed on the clothes he had left on the beach, and he worried his

of smothering to death a young woman found dead in Cleveland. Beware of the Empty Wagon. Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their importunate chink, whilst thousands of cattle, reposed beneath the shadows of the British oak, chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field; that of course they are many in number; or that, after all. they are other than ;

New York’s Nickname. Gotham is the name of a village in England whose inhabitants, according to ancient tradition, were noted for their "unsophisticatedness and simplicity and hence were called, byway of ridicule, “the wise men of Gotham.” English ibgends and rhymes refer to > the wise men of Gotham, and Washington Irving, in Salmagundi, applied > it as a nickname to New York because ..he inhabitants were such wiseacres. The nickname has survived its original significance if it ever had any.

| civilization, art, and leters. while he. : monuments of Phrygian kings and I people are. except in two or three in 4 stances, not of Aatti character but of anoher. which looks western, and suppers the Greek story that the Phrygians had come out of Europe. On the other hand, inscriptions in the same alphabe and language as those cut on the tomb of Midas have been found (though rarely) in Cappadocia; and one cannot but ask, if Mita of the. Muski was not Midas of Phrygia, how comes it that the latter, who was ruler cf a people great enough to make such monuments, has passed unmentioned in the annals of those Assyrian kings who concerned themselves with Asia Minor just at the epoch to which, on all grounds, the Phrygian kingdom is to be assigned? To all such questions, and especially to that important one—whence did the Phrygians get their alphabet? — some sort of answer may be expected j from excavations at the Midas City. On the fiat top of the cliff-ringed acropolis, an extraordinary fortress of immense strength, there seemed, when I saw it. to be not much earth! but one : never knows until one tries, and there i is certainly plenty round the foot of the cliffs where, presumably, the bulk, of the city lay. There are other walled fortresses near by. and any number of tombs, and thickly wooded labyrinthine valleys which may well conceal any number more. I know few districts more likely to repay explorj ation. and none more likely, to delight ! the explorer, and keep him in the best of health. —

clouded brain about some unfinished verses in the pocket of his coat. —Edmund Gosse, in Cornhill Magazine. Great Painter’s Last Days Pathetic. The philosopher may ruminate prof itably over the fact that a picture by Degas has just been sold in Paris for $85,000, while Degas himself, old and nearly blind, is living in misery in a fifth-floor attic practically without furniture. Degas is eighty-four years old and without resources. A correspondent of the London Express visited his room and found him out. He had gone to the sale of his picture, from curiosity, for he had no interest in it. Wh§n he came in he said: “Yes, 1 went to the sale. The figure was a high one. I heard people talk of the life in the dancers on my canvas. For me all the canvases, all the faces, all the eyes around me were dancing. 1 was a painter, was I not? I am nothing but a blind old man now.” Perhaps there was something in Whistler’s’contention that a painter should always have some proprietary rights over his creations. At least the idea contains a sentiment that should be respected, a sentiment, let us hope, not altogether without its appeal to the man who had just received $85,000 for the work of an artist who actually lacked bread to eat. Superlative. “Always boasting, eh?” “Yes; everything connected with him is always in the superlative. Even when he had a cataract in his eye it was a regular Niagara.”

the little shriveled, meager, hopping though loud and troublesome insects of the hour. —Edmund Burke. Painting Found in Cellar. “The Holy Family,” attributed tc Giuglio Cesare Prccaccino and dated 1610, was recently discovered in a dusty wine cellar on West Broadway According to American Art-News it ir now the property of Atilio Grafignia a wine merchant, who has loaned it for exhibition to Avery hall, Columbia j university.

More Caution Needed. An exchange tells the story of a lit tie boy whose mother decided that he was old enough to do without her sitting by him when he was put to bed until he fell asleep. So when one night she kissed the five-year-old and told him he was a big boy and brave enough to go to sleep without his mamma and in the dark, too, he pon dered the situation a moment and then said: “Well, wait a minute. I’ve go* to say my prayers again carefußer.”Suburban Life.

BACKACHE IS DISCOURAGING

Backache makes life a burden. Headaches, dizzy spells and distressing ur i - nary disorders are a constant trial. Take warning! Suspect kidney trouble. Look about for -a good kidney remedy. Learn from one who has found relief

rI 'Jf “Every Picture Tells a Stor'i"

: from the same suffering. Get Doan’s Kidney Pills—the same that Mr. Harris had. An Ohio Case Fred W. Harris. Jetferson. Ohio, nays: “For ten years I snttereJfn-ni kidney trouble. I had constant backache, showed symptoms of dropsy.' and became so had I was laid up in After doctor* bad fa ik’d 1 beffan taktng Dood'b Kidney Piila. They cured me completely.* * Get Doan’s at Any Store, 50c a Box DOAN’S V.TLV FOSTEB-MILBURN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y. FOR SICK HEADACHE SOUR STOMACH. DYSPEPSIA, POOR APPETITE, CONSTIPATION, !- LIVER COMPLAINT, BILIOUSNESS ROMAN EYE BALSAM 'FOR SCALDING SENSATION IN EYES AND ALL FORMS OF INFLAMMATION OF EYES OR EYELIDS — The Man Who Put tlie EEsin F E E T If T' W Look for This Trade-Mark PicSELA ture on the Label when buying ALIEN’S FOOT=E4SE The Antiseptic Powder for Ten* Trade-M&i'K. der, Aching Feet. Sold even* where, 25c. Sample FREE. Address*.; ALLEN S. OLMSTED. Lc Hoy. N. ¥• | Cough Byrup. Tutee Good. Ute E3 WJJ in time. Sold by Drurgiatß. EMBARRASSING. “Well, my little man, de you know what an oath is?” “Yes, sir; I was your golf caddie so» a whole week last summer.” Good Cause. “Will you donate something to » good cause?" said the caller, as he laid a paper on the business-man’, desk. 'i “What is it?” asked the business ‘ man. “One of the tenants in this building killed a book agent this morning,” replied the caller, "and we are takin. up a subscription to reward him.” “Put me down for $10,000,” replied' the business-man. The Real Villain. “Are you the villain of this troupe?" asked the baggageman who was han* dling theatrical trunks. “No,” replied the youth with black, curly hair. “I used to be, but the real villain is the treasurer of the company, and by this time he must be about five hundred miles on his way to somewhere west." —Washington Star. COFFEE THRESHED HER. 15 Long Years. “For over fifteen years,” writes a patient, hopeful little Ills, woman, “while a coffee drinker, I suffered from Spinal Irritation, and Nervous trouble. . I was treated by good physicians, but did not get much relief. “I never suspected that coffee might be aggravating by condition. (Tea is just as injurious, because it contains caffeine, the same drug found in coffee.) I was down-hearted and discouraged, but prayed daily that I might find something to help me. “Several years ago, while at a. friend’s house I drank a cup of Postum and though I had never tasted anything more delicious. “®rom that time on I used Postuna Instead of coffee and soon began to Improve in health, so that now I can walk half a dozen blocks or more with ease, and do many other things that I never thought I would be able to da again t in this world. “My appetite is good. I sleep well and find life is worth living. A lady of my acquaintance said she did not like Postum, it was so weak and tasteless. “I explained to her the difference, when it is made right—boiled according to directions. She was glad to> know this because coffee did not agree with her. Now her folks say they expect to use Postum the rest of their lives.” Name given upon request Read the little book, “The Road to Wellville,” in pkgs. “There’s a Reason.” ‘ “Postum now comes In concentrated, powder form, called Instant Postum. It is prepared by stirring a level teaspoonful in a cup of hot water, adding sugar to taste, and enough cream to bring the color to golden brown. Instant Postum Is convenient? there’s no waste; and the flavour is ak . ways uniform. Sold by grocers—4s to 50-cup tin 30 cts., 90 to 100-cup tin, 50 cts. A 5-cup trial tin mailed for same and 2-cent stamp for postage. Postum Cereal Co,, Ltd., Battle Creek* Mich.—Adv.