The Syracuse Journal, Volume 19, Number 16, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 19 August 1926 — Page 2

Youth RidesV/ert Will JMisi £%%

THE STORY SO FAR On their way to the new Cottonwood rold diUKings In Colorado in the early Seventie*. Robert <:il»i>n. eaatlrner, and hia partner. Buck Hayden, a veteran mirier. witness t’he hold-up of a stage coach, from which the express box is stolen before the bandits are scared oft. Among the hold-up victims are Mrs. Constance Deane, and Mrs. Barnaby, who intends to open a restaurant in Cottonwood. Gilson meets Marcus Handy, editor, on his way to start the Cottonwood Courier. Arriving In town. Gilson and Hayden together purchase a mining claim. A threatened lynching Is averted by the bravery of Chris McGrath, town marshal. Gilson becomes disgusted with gold digging, what with its unending labor and small rewards, and so the sudden appearance of .. . . Buck. Is not altogether disconcerting to him. Gilson tak'Xa job on the Courier and arrange t . >:» share in the < last", t\ Shorty. His acquaintanceship with Mrs. Deane ripens. As the I’rurirr grows in power a civic qpirijt is awakened Following a crime wave, which the marshal seems to overlook. Handy. In his newspaper demands a clean-up.

CHAPTER Vll—Continued I read; and 1 realized that Marcus had outdone himself. His literary faults and merits alike were, as a usual thing, those of the old-time min-Inf-camp editor. He overloaded his thought with words and figures ctf speech; he Wrote In aroc» phrases, but this editorial was slinks, explicit, as forceful and as straight to the point as a pistol shot It recited, with the Curtis affair as a text, the present state of Cottonwood camp—holdups, robberies. brace faro games and all. “Where are our schools?” It inquired. “Where is our fire protection? Does any sensible man doubt that a single fire In the heart of town would sweep i'ottonwixKl off the map? Where is our provision for public health? The back alley of Main street smells as '.oud as our 'municipal morals. Where, above everything, is our protection against crime? Do the present authorities really want to suppress our epidemic of holdups and highway rikbberles? Have we here the greateat camp in the Rocky mountain*” The editorial trailed off into the glories and possibilities of Cottonwood, and ended with a demand for a municipal government—"to replace the existing regime of weak. Inefficient bluff. 1 looked up from my reading, and my eyes must have told Marcus what 1 thought.' "U s the Rubicon, I guess." said Marcus; “may get me killed In the next twenty-four hours.” And here, as though the weight had begun to lift from bis spirits, he became his nurmal, dramatic* self, “Don't give a d—n If I do die." be chuckled. “Ry <•—d. the sooner they kill ine. the soner we‘U clean up Cottonwood ’** 1 no longer concealed from myself that I loved Constance Deane, loved her with every kind of wartfi emotion that a man can hold toward • a woman. but mostly— »o young was I—as a devotee loves bls saint. Like one who sinks by Imperceptible degrees under a narcotic, I passed gradually into this torturing yet agreeable madness. And, like a bad patient. 1 fought the ether. According to the ethics upon which I had been reared, to love a married- woman was a thing no genteel person so much as contemplated, , When it happened—l had heard rumors of cases—one whispered the news to his Intimatea In the shocked tone with which one mentions hideous vices. For all our repressed exteriors, we were a romantic lot ta the circles of my origin, resolutely shutting our minds to such facts of life and lessons of experience as did not fit the picture we found in our sugary fiction. Somewhere there waited for you the One Being. Destiny would bring her down a fibwery path to you. Os course, she would be unmarried: It was always arranged that way. There were soft passages at which the sickly imagination of youth grew sweetly faint. Then you were married. And afterward—but Imagination halted there. Marriage did not come within the scheme of romance. 1 first looked at the facts of this sentimental entanglement—shyly, as round the edge of a door—when I had been for less than a week a boarder at Mrs. Barnaby'.*. The presence of Mrs. Deane at that board I.ad worked according to the shrewd Jim Huffaker*s prophecy. Herself unconscious. she was bait to Mrs. Barnaby’s fishing. Within two days after she consented to receive me. Mrs. Barnaby took no more transients. At twelve dollars a week—ruinous rates for those days—she filled her table with permanent guests. Even could •he boast that she shared with Jim Jlrfffaker “the best patronage in camp.” As Jim drew the kind of man who la settled communities goes tn for clubs, so we gathered up those with Inhibited desires for the comfort and society of decent women. Matthias, a dapper dark at the bank, Mlebelson. chief owner in one of the moat promising galena claim*. Selden, the assayer. Barton, the mining broker, eld Pop Kidridge, agent for the stage company—theae. probably because •hey gave me moot reason for incipient Jealousy, remain most vivid In my memory. Mrs. Barnaby, it appeared. Her”- •rnsed from her wwhing Hat

ail other women than Mrs. Deane. Though, indeed, women of the class which any respectable boarding house would receive applied but rarely. So all threads of conversation at the table ran together, knotted themselves. in the person of Mrs. Deane. She had the gift of drawing confidences; her very reserve, backed as it was by a sense of vivid sympathy, seemed to spur the confessor on. When I think of her as she was in that rosy dawn of a stormy morning, I see her■always as she sat at the head of Mrs. Barnftby’s table, the lamplight drawing flecks of gold from I the curl of golden-brown hair which tumbled across her shoulder, throwing ' from her brows shadows that could ! not veil the blue glint of her eyes. I blurring to mystery the quick, whim- ! steal expressions of her mouth. I hear her laughter running its gamut like a flute; the delicious pause and drip of her voice when she hesitated between syllables. And then over that vision rises always the vulgar, invidious glitter of Sarfi Barton. My dawning jealousy could find tn the conduct of the rest no flaw to criticize. Never had queen more respect. never saint more reverence, than she from this tiny court of hers —all except Barton. He glistened, did Sam Barton —his -diamond studs and rings, his heavy watch charm, even his too perfect teeth. Most of his profession and kind took meals at Jim Huffaker’s. where passed all the gossip of the cainp. In his presence at Mrs. Barnaby’s I read a sinister meaning. When be looked at Mrs. Deane, his expression, as I defined it to myself. became sinister, oily, insinuating. Os course. 1 exaggerated. Still, reviewing Sam Barton after the intervening years. 1 cannot say that It was all imagination. He alone piled Mrs. Deua* with open compliment; he alone »v.x>etimes introduced Ideas considered In that time wholly Inappropriate to the hearing of a lady. Which always caused a moment of embarrassed chill about Mrs. Barnaby’s dinner table; a silence broken only when Mrs. Deane adroitly turned the subject. "There’s going to be an assembly ball.” I announced one evening as. having got the floor. I retailed camp news. "Guess Hl have to put on a clean collar and take Mrs. Deane! There, boys, got my bid In first!” said Pop Eldridge hastily. “Aw, no fair—lf you tried* to dance at your age, you’d look plumb unseemly !** put in Selden. ••Guess I will need an assistant" said Pop Eldridge, "in case Mrs. Deane gives me the contract. Boys, why don’t we all take her?” The one exclamatlve “Sure!" exptoded like a bunch of firecrackers round the table. "It’s selfish of rpe.” said Mrs. Deane, “but you gentlemen have tempted me betond my strength. I accept; Its understood, though, that Mr. Eldridge la head escort. So I’ll go with you all —you, Mr. Michelson, and you. Mr. Selden—and you, Mr. Gilson—'’ Here she paused. “I’m afraid I'll have to forego the pleasure." I said, trying to keep out of my voice the sulkiness I felt. "But 1 must drop tn to report it." I added, exerting my self-control, “and if 1 may have the pleasure of one dance—" But on the night of the ball, having seen Mrs. Deane at dinner with her hair newly curled for the event, having lived through a scattering fire of persiflage which turned me sick of soul. I sulked again. I told myself, as I walked furiously back to the Courier, that the ball could go hang; all the while knowing perfectly that I was lying to myself. And at about ten o’clock of an especially busy evening. I dropped a murder story half written and took the trail to Odd Fellows’ hall. Couples were waltzing furiously through the mist raised by their feet from a dusty, soft-pine floor. Two reflector lamps illuminated a background of pathetically sparse evergreen decorations tied up with tiny and sleazy American flags; In the corner, an orchestra of guitars and violins twanged dreamily. Out of the crowd emerged Constance Deane, waltzing. She was In blue brocade, a dress simple for those days. The throat opened in a lace-edged square to show a bosom sulk yet virginal. ... I caught my breath. Then I was aware that Barton held her In his arms, held her all too close for current ideas on dancing. He was looking down on her with what I described to myself as his vol >gar. insinuating smile. A surge of blood struck with the force of a tidal wave the base of my skull. I could have killed Barton. I hated him because —1 loved Constance l»eane. It was ridiculous, unprecedented, even disgraceful. But 1 loved Constance Deane. I loved. . . . Now half a dozen men arrayed In every description of evening dress, swallow-tails to blue reefer jackets, surrounded her. Impulsively. I started toward the group to claim my dance; as impulsively. I turned, left the hall, walked back to the Courier. I could not bear in that moment to see anyone else so much as rest a band upon her arm. I was jealous of Barton, jealous of the whole world, jealous beyond all things of that wedding ring. • • \ • • • • • But lying awake that night with the whoops, the rattle, the music of Cottonwtxxl flowing In discordant waves through the chinks of our cabin. I spawned a rosy hope which became, as my stimulated imagination played upon It. a reality. Widows also wore weddine ring*. I had - -ad in « .. ... » ..X.A.L..

stories, of maidens going to far. perilous places, who assumed for protection the title and symbol of marriage. That was it; that must be it; I could float away now on the enchanted river of my dreams. It did not seem so plausible when I woke early—for me—next morning, with the brilliant mountain light streaming through my window. I must know. An hour ahead of the dinner time which was my breakfast, I went over to Mrs. Barnaby’s and to that tent where Mrs. Deane lodged. She came at my eall through the flap, faced me with no halt or embarrassment of manner, not even the touch of an emotion like fear. And I realized it was not going to be so easy. “I saw you at the ball last night.’’ she began. “It was most interesting! Though I must admit I’m tired this morning. You wild Westerners arq energetic dancers. Mr. Gilson!” “Why didn’t you claim your dance?" 1 forced a laugh. T noticed you dancing with Barton. You seemed to be enjoying yourself/ I said; and my ill-natured mood must have shown through these simple words. For Mrs. Deane's head came up straight, and her eyes became for a moment serious. Then they twinkled. "Barton at least has enterprise!" she said. "You mean—if I’d had the enterprise—’’ I began. But her laugh cut me off. “You are to be punished by not understanding what I mean!” she said. “I think If I gave you the chance, you'd be very naughty!” The charm of her was creeping over me again like a spell. “It's an hour yet before my breakfast and your dinner." I said. “Will you suspend sentence long enough to go with me for a walk? 'phat Is —if you have nothing better t04i0.” Mrs. Deane hesitated just a moment. “I never have anything really urgent to do Just now.” she replied, "Wait until I get into my tilings, won’t you?" There were suggestive feminine rustlings within the tent before she emerged, a little bonnet crowning with blue flowers the glory of her hair, her fingers fluttering like a flock of lovebirds over the business of putting on her gloves. Up from the hill where Cottonwood was building its residence district ran a shallow gulch wherein no miner

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Out of the Crowd Emerged Constance Deane, Waltzing.. had as yet found sign of oro. no lumberman a tree large enough to be worth cutting. Even the little brook which had gouged it out from the hills ran unpolluted, heavenly-clean, over entanglements of fern and watercress. Toward this, as by common impulse of youth and holiday, we turned. She was walking at my right hand; the single great, colled curl in which her hair was dressed that morning fell over her left shoulder. It gave out a faint perfume, which sent my blood beating; so that 1 could not trust my voice. A little shelf of rock guarded the approaches to the trail up the gulch. As I helped her across ft, I feit that my own hand, at the warmth radiating through her glove, at the soft, yet firm grasp of her fingers, was trembling. She too must have perceived that; for suddenly she withdrew her hand and slipped lightly down into the trail. The very embarrassment of this pulled me together. I controlled my voice and clutched at the first commonplace which popped into my mind. "Mrs. Taylor was asking about you last night. She was very enthusiastic -—called you a radiant creature or something like that. I think Mrs. Taylor is preparing to call. You'll become at once a member’of the elite, associating with the wive* of the mining engineers." "A dazzling prospect, certainly / exclaimed Mrs. Deane. Then suddenly the laughter died from her eyes. “Did Mrs Taylor tell you she wa* goto* to call?” she asked, her voice a trilie muffled. “Ob. no! That was merely my inference. Only I can see that you’re elected. Mrs Taylor Is the outward and visible sign—like an accolade or a royal proclamation ” “If she says anything about that to you. discourage IL" Mrs. Deane bad slackened her pace. “Um not sure 1 wish to belong to tbe camp aristocracy —there are «o many other interesting things here, after all—and I may not stay long enough to make It worth while.” “Then you’re going aoonr I exclaimed ; and my voices In spite of my will, wa* sharp. •That depends on many things. Oh. I must have some of those daisies!’’ replied Mrs. Deane. I knew perfectly that she was changing the subject deliberately, and that 1 was rebuked. She had dropped on one knee at a bed where mountain asters, pink and blue, fringed the stream. I knelt beside her; we picked two double handfuls, fringed them with fern from the stream bed. tied their stems —tight, bunchy bouquets being then the sash ton in flowers—with withes of dandelion stalk. When our bouquet was done, she asked for tbe time, found that It lacked but ten minutes of the dinner boor *t Barnaby’s We stood by

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL

the Uap auvr of iier tent now, ana the question I had come to ask het had been parried. L could not face the next twenty-four hours without some satisfaction of my inflamed curiosity. “Did you say you might be going away soon?” I asked. “Perhaps.” Then 1 blundered boldly toward th« heart of the subject. - “When Mr. Deane comes for you?” She was'iaying her hand on the tent flap. It stopped, frozen, and she shot out one quick glance before she answered : "Call It that If you wish.” Already convicted in her eyes of Impertinence and curiosity, I might well be hanged for an old sheep as ■ lamb. So I pursued the subject. “There is a Mr. Deane, then—a living Mr. Deane?" “Yea Do I seem like a widow? 1 " she asked rather sharply, and was gone inside the tent. ■* Yet when ten minutes later she entered the dining room and took her accustomed seat, her manner toward me had neither warmed nor chilled. It was a crumb of comfort to perceive that If she had changed toward anyone, it was Barton. Somehow, she broke that day his of conversation ; the more readily as Barton showed less than his usual disposition to converse. He boarded out his week with Mrs. Barnaby, and was seen among us no more. I suspected then what, a dramatic revelation afterward confirmed —that be had taken too much for granted the night before. So exit Barton from the board; only a pawn in the game fate was playing with me. but a pawn whose single move had served —and was to serve j again. She was married. Constance Deane was married. I tried, as I walked downtown, to resolve that I would move from Mrs. Barnaby’s and never see her again, and. even while making this resolution, knew that 1 was deceiving myself. CHAPTER VIII I looked up through the hazy but brilliant light thrown by the edge of the mountain shadow —for it was late afternoon and already sunset In that gulch. The trail, as It wound its sinuous course upward toward FortyRod. curved round a castle-like shoulder of striated rock and crossed a hillside, A moment visible as a black patch against the electric-blue sky, in a moment hidden by a little hogback of Intervening rock, appeared a horse at a slow walk. He bore a sidesaddle; the rider was a woman. Just as she disappeared, she leaned forward. laid her hand on the horse’s neck as though steadying herself for the descent or arranging something at the pommel. In a world of women, I could never mistake that motion. It was Mrs. Deane. She was coming down the’ trail; I should encounter her, ride with her! The mere fire story which was taking me to FortyRod might go hang. I kept my own horse at a walk, prolonging the delicious anticipation. Her horse’s head emerged about the gray barrier of rock. She had dropped the reins on his neck; as he walked, lie was cropping at the bushes by the roadside. She still leaned forward, her hands resting on the pommel. Resting—nay. clutching. We were so near now that my horse stopped because hers was blocking the trail. And looking straight at me, through me. was the face of a Constance Deane which I had never seen before. Those blue eyes were set and bard, yet absent. It Was as though she were sleepwalking toward some challenging, repulsive vision. The lines of her face were all fallen, the corner of her expressive mouth drawn downward. Misery or hate or anger—whatever this emotion was—it held her with devastating, overpowering force. All this I saw in a wink of an eye before my rather Independent little roan plunged forward and nipped at the Intruder in his path. At that awakening motion, she gave a hysterical start, so violent that she bent backward over the cantie of her saddle; she stared at me with round, terrified eyes and mouth. Then, before I could utter a word of reassurance, she dismounted in one swift motion, stood in the road-way-gripping a horn of her sidesaddle with both hands. And the terror was still upon her face. I dismounted In turn; stood facing hes there in the road. "What is the matter —are yog 1111” I asked. Something of the normal Constance Deane began to coine back into her face. It lightened now; but yet I felt that her smile was forced. "No—you frightened me coming upon me so suddenly," she said. Then the smile went, driven away by a tense expression. She stared at me a moment before site asked with a catch tn her voice: “Why did you—are you—following me?" "Why should I follow you? You said I might not ride with you." I replied. for a moment piqued; yet taking at once the defensive. as a man always will with the woman he love*. “Yes," breathed Constance Deane. And what she meant by that simple monosyllable I could not tell, except that it expressed pain. She straightened up, took hold of the saddle as though to mount. Instinctively. I stepped forward to help her. She turned, laid her hand on my outstretched arm. trying weakly, it seemed, to fend me away. And It was as though that light touch pulled a trigger which had been restraining an explosion of passion. I did the thing which, one minute before. I would have thought Impossible. “Constance!" I said. “Constance!" I had never called her by that name before. And I took her into my arms. She did not struggle against me. She lay for a moment inert In my embrace Then her hands dropped from the saddle, went round my shoulders. And I kissed her—long. long, in ecstasy.

Is Gilson getting Into desp water? What will happen when Mr. Dean* put* in his appear- - a nee? (TO COKTINUBOu) X

Insects Cause Big Grain Loss Damage May Be Reduced by Early Harvesting and Prompt Fumigation. “ (Prepared by the United States Depaitnift ’ of Agriculture.) It is best to harvest grain crops as soon as possible after maturity and to fumigate them promptly in order to kill any stored grain insects, says the United States Department of Agriculture. Farmers now suffer enormous losses from Insect damage to grains. Farmers’ Bulletin 1483-F. just issued, brings out many Interesting facts relative to the cause and extent of insect Infestation of grains. Where Insects Develop. The idea that insects develop from the germ of grain, althougb long since discredited, still persists among gralu handlers and producers. The fact is. says the department, that grain often becomes infested with insects before it is harvested. The rice weevil and the Angoumois grain moth live over the winter in the grain bins, fly to the near-by fields of ripening wheat and corn as these are nearing maturity, and lay eggs upon the wheat heads or corn kernels. These eggs hatch and the young pests burrow into the immature grain. Illustrations are given in the bulletin of corn cribs designed to permit effective fumigation and instructions are given for their construction. The most successful grain fumigations are carried on at temperatures ranging from 75 degrees to 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Other Facts Noted. The new publication also discussea the fumigation of grain with heavier-than-alr gases, effect of fumigation on ' the germination of seed, heating grain, •nd other related topics. A copy of the bulletin may be obtained free, as long as the supply lasts, by writing io the United States Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. Q. For Success With Flock Don’t Let Chicks Crowd Many troubles which beaet the growing stock may be warded off by preventing the chicks from crowding, say poultry authorities at the New Jersey State College of Agriculture. The situation becomes more and more serious as the birds increase in size. Many birds showing stunted growth and unkempt feathers fail to grow simply because of lack of room and not because of any particular disease or deficiency in the ration. The damage is done at night. On« may have a relatively small numbet of birds in a house and feel that they have ample room, but If these few persist in crowding on the floor th« resulting damage may be as great as if the house were actually overcrowded with stock. The thing to do is to get the birds In the habit of roosting as soon as possible. When on the roosts they must line up in single flle with plenty oi air circulation on all sides. Care must be taken, of course, that the stock shall not get chilled. ,This means that the house should be kept around C>6 or 70 degrees. If one has difficulty in teaching the birds to roost it may b« necessary to tack one-inch mesh wire netting under the roosts and from the front roosting stick to the floor. The birds may then be forced up the wire about dusk and in a few days wilFgo up of their own accord. Get them on the roosts. It pays. Study of Cooperative Live-Stock Marketing A study of co-operative live stock marketing associations. Including the organization, operating methods and problems of local shipping associations as well as terminal co-operative commission firms at central markets. Is being made by the United States Department of Agriculture. Questionnaires have been sent to managers of local co-operative live stock associations and to boards of directors of the terminal co-operative live stock commission firms, and the information furnished by them is being supplemented by detailed analysis and study of the business set-up arid records of the larger associations. To date more than tiOO shipping associations and many directors of cooperative sales agencies have sent much valuable Information, and the various live stock marketing groups seem to be greatly interested in the Investigation. Control Currant Worms Currant worms which have proved a pest in many communities can be controlled best by spraying the currant bushes with arsenate of lead at the rate of two pounds to fifty gallons ot water. The currant bushes should be watched closely for signs of this pest for the caterpillars eat very rapidly and begin from the Inside of the bush and eat outward. Worms Are Menace Worms in chickens are a good deal more serious than is ordinarily realized. This ia particularly true when chickens have been kept on the same ground for several seasons. Worms have the same effect in chickens as they do in hogs, causing unthrifty condition and lack of vitality. The one great remedy for intestinal worms in any kind of animal is santonin, which has been used successfully for a great many years. Prevent the parasites by keeping the yards dean. ’*'*■ Mistake with Strawberries A common mistake made by strawberry growers Is allowing the patch tc persist for too many years. A com merciai patch should produce n« more than two crops and a home patch not more than three or four. A patch that has reached should be plowed or spaded up after the season’s harvest Is over and the soil put tc other use for two or three years, when It can again be planted to strawberries and more profitable crops ob tained

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Blind Girl* Shota Skill With Ntedlt A dress show remarkable la several ways was staged at Bush houses Strand, W. C., where the first free public exhibition in London of tha handicrafts of the blind was dl» played, says the Westminster Gazette, Dainty frocks were shown, but tha girls whose clever fingers made them never saw them. Some of the girls are deqf and dumb as well as blind. Their work is so good that It sells on its merits In the best salo: s of Paris and London. \ - In the Rue de la Paix. in Bond street. Regent street and Oxford street women are unknowingly buying the work of these afflicted girls and praising the perfection of the article* and the "extra finish.” .• Each girl Is responsible fbr a garment throughout all its processes—from the yam to the completed parts. The wages are higher than those paid in factories where the employees ara sighted. Between 300 and 400 garments are turned out a week. “BAIER ASPIRIN’ PROVED SAFE Take without Fear as Told in “Bayer” Package Unless you see the “Bayer Cross* on package or on tablets you are not getting the genuine Bayer Aspirin proved safe by millions and pltescribed by physicians over twenty-five ydurs fog Colds Headache Neuritis Lumbago Toothache ■ Rheumatism Neuralgia Pain, Paia Each unbroken “Bayer” package con. tains proven directions. Jlqndy boxes of twelve tablets cost few cents. Druggists also sell “bottles of 24 and lOQi Wedding Bells Cortlandt Bieecker said at a wedding breakfast In Lenox: "Most of us are disappointed In love—l mean after we get married. “Marriage is the beginning of a woman’s life and the end of a man's. “Marriages are made in heaven, though we have all seen brimstone matches, too. "Marriage gets easier after the first twenty-flve years. “It makes no difference about your choice —marry whom yon please, you’ll discover you've got somebody else." Shave With Cuticura Soap And double your razor efficiency as well as promote skin purity, skin comfort and skin health. No mug, no slimy soap, no germs, m.- waste, no Irritation even when shaved twice daily. One soap for, all uses—shaving, bathing and shampooing.—Advertisement. Right Man, Right Office Here is one they are enjoying ob automobile row: Jones was dug out=of the wreck of his automobile and carried Into the nearest doctor’s office. "I can’t do anything for this man,” said tbe doctor. “I’m a veterinary surgeon.” “You’re the right man, doc.” said the amateur motorist. “I was a jackass to think I could run that machine.” There Is nothing more satisfactory after a day of hard work than a line full of snow-white clothes. For such results use 'Russ Bleaching Blue. —Advertisement. New Dishwasher-Sink A dishwasher-sink has been invented. In the middle of the bottom of the sink Is a large opening which Is closed by a cover-plate when the dishwasher Is not in use. Beneath the <4>ening Is a wire-net basket held in a cylindrical metal container. A stnr'o dose of Dr. Peay’s “Pead Shot? Is enough to expel Worms or Tapeworm. Why not try ItT 371 Pearl St.. N. T. Adv. It’s a short road that has no roadhouse. Calamity is virtue’s opportunity.— Seneca.

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