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CHAPTER IX.—Coxtisukd).
Tbegra was 110 signature. None waa
hoedeq, Ralph Trenholme was desper
ately angry. He chafed Uke a caged
"lion. This woman, whom He did not love,
whom he married solely td please an*
other, was dishonoring his proud name,
and making him merely a tool'-to play
upon with her subtle wit. at her own
pleasure. He shut his hand like a vise.
Thus would he crush her power to dis
grace hini further, he said, hoarsely.
When ahe'4ld return, she should give
, an account to him for these mysterious
. absences, or he would make her a pris
oner .ts the Rock.
6n the,./light of the third day he
.found her sewing quietly in her little
private sitting room. She looked up
i coolly as,h« entered.
/.^t Is a fine evening, Mr. Tren
•holme," she remarked, Indifferently.
6. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder
. and bent his dark, fiery eyes upon hers.
She met the gaze without flinching.
"Madam, where have you been?” ho
asked, in a voice hoarse with anger. •*.
She shook -herself loose from bis
/grasp. , .n
"You hurt my shoulder," she said,
quietly.
"I ask you, where you have been?”
"And I don’t choose to tell you.”
"You must tell me. I will take no cold
' evasions! Tell me, or by the heavens
above, us, you will repent it!”
The red leaped into her oheek.
“Do you command?”
“Ay, I command! and the sooner you
obey the better!”
I “And I shall not obey. There Is the
ell; I am going down.”
She rose, lifted her arm to put her
work Into a hanging basket. In bo doing
her sleeve fell away from the wrist and
her husband noticed that the heavy
garnet bracelet she had always Worn
was missing. j
; “I don’t see you braoeiet?" he Said,
half Inquiringly. > ■ ‘ I
“I have laid It aside. Garnets are not j
so becoming to me as they were before j
1 lost my color.” ‘ J
He detained her'a moment to say, in J
a voice low and deep with stern deter- j
mlnatton:
“Imogene, you will consider yourself
an Inmate of the Rock for thq remain
der of the winter—for all time, until I
you explain to me this mystery. I leave 1
It with you to decide, whether I shall
confine you to a single room with bolts
and bars, dr give you the liberty of the
whole place, and let your word of honor
be the chaJA-that keeps you here. De-!
elder *
She looked up Mo hta hard face, aind
her owrlet lineaments softened. She
. how she loved him. It
simple woman, ready to
i she loved.
min here. I will not go
fou my word, and It shall
remembered
made her a
obey the mu
s. ”1 will red
jr\way. I given
•vie. a chain.’!
•there^ry well.” he said, “so he it.” Then
i»n tier,'tone, as if suddenly recol
been dectyhateshe was a woman—“Any
mvenlionsjen you deign to explain this
i first one,i1 listen gladly, for It goes
to the nslPf, F,u J*0 “se thl* semblance
Li*^enholme bowed loftily, and
ra^on, IW{0 her chamb«r. After that, she
F*moat of her time In her room. In
jJWfcin her husband’s mother urged her
to come out Wt her retirement. She al
ways had some reasonable excuse for
her conduct and after a while she was
left to herself. Ralph she scarcely saw
now, save at meal time. Hi never came
to hef; never spoke a soft word to her.
He never looked at her, even when she
had spent long hours In making herself
beautiful, hoping to attract his atten
tion.
Business cAled him to Boston for a
week. He merely announced the fact at
* table, and went away without any
; leave-taking. £Ie did not see the ghast
ly pale face that from her window
'watched him ride away; he did not
■. know that for hours after his depart*
ure his wife la|r in a heap upon the floor,
. not weeplng-rwomen like her seldom
weep—but brgathlng great shuddering
“O heavenr ah« moaned, "for his
love I bare risked everything, and be
hold ha hater*#!”
Ralph returned home about 11 one
cold stormy, sight He took his hone
to the atable himaelt, without, dis
turbing the hostler. and came to the
house by a path through the garden.
The sound of his wife’s voice from
behind a clump of evergreens arrested
hist The night was dark and he stop
ped and listened. He was a man of the
strictest senaJKot honor, but under the
; olresmataaceabhe felt so scruples about
bearing whoewas not Intended for hla
car.
“I tell yon Oils must sever occur
; again!" she arid. Is a low, firm tone, "It
It does—” The remainder of the sen
> tawee was spoken in a whisper.
^“Beware how yih threaten!" hissed
.tie voice of a man; “1 have the power
ret! and If yon do sot deal softly, mad
or* 1 *U1 not hesitate to —"
BtSBi#rS6«a&.v>U ,1 .;..1
“Hush!” she said, quickly; “the very
air has ears. Do not come If you need
more. Write to me. You know the place
where letters reach me. Take this, and
go.”
She put somethin* Into his hand.
HaJph preased forward, and peered
through the bushes, but It was so dark
he could discern nothing beyond the
outlines of a tall, dark figure, heavily
I bearded and wrapped In an immense
shawl. For a moment he was tempted
to rush forth and annihilate them both
on the spot, but prudence held him
back. He would wait and watch. So he
stood, quietly In the shadow, while Imo
gens returned to the house, and her
companion went down the path lead
ing to the shore. Ralph Trenholme
ground hla teeth In rage. He was a
proud man, and he did not love this
woman who was his wife. He had no
love to wound, but she hurt his pride.
He eould not bear a dishonored name.
CHAPTER X.
T THE close of a
boisterous day In
March, a traveling
carriage stopped
before Trenholme
house, and a little
figure wrapped in
furs alighted. She
inquired for Miss
Trenholme and Ag
nes went down to
find Helen Fulton
waiting in the parlor. The girls em
braced cordially.
•‘Something sent me here. Agnes!”
said Helen. ‘‘Goodness knows I didn’t
want to come! for there was Hal How
ard Just ready to pop the question to
me, and Sam Jenkins wanting to aw
fully and X hadn’t my pink Thibit dross
half flounced and papa couldn't very
well spare me, but I had to come! Leti
tla was cross. Just between you and me
■he’s half in love with Hal Howard her
self, and he’s got the sweetest mous
tache! And how do you do, dear? and
how did you get through that awful
Journey?
“I am very well, and I whs in time,”
returned Agnes. “Come into the sitting
room now, and let me present you to
the family."
"Are there any gentlemen?"
“None except my brother.”
Helen made a comical wry face,
y“Then,I needn’t brush my hair, nor
put bn ahy of my sweet things, nor any
of my nice litttle smiles, need X? Wom
en never notice such trifles, and as for
old married men—bah!”
Agnes conducted her into the sitting
room. Imogene was there with Mrs.
Trenholme. She did not look up as they
entered. She' seemed absorbed in
thought. She sat silent a great deal
now. Her white hands were crossed on
her lap, her great eyes fixed on the
snow-covered landscape without. She
waa dressed in heavy black silk, and
wore no ornaments. The eldor Mrs.
Trenholme kissed the young guest, and
bade her welcome. Then Agnes led her
up to Imogene and named thorn to each
other. » ■:
It was a decided case of mutual an
tagonism. Both were repelled strongly,
though both refused to let it be known
by word or gesture. Their hands met,
but the touch was like ice and Bnow.
The moment He/len and Agnes were
alone the former said:
"Who Is that woman?"
* “My mother, and—”
"I mean the one with the eyes.”
"She is my brother’s wife.”
“Does he love her?”
"He married her,” replied Agnes, a
little proudly. “Men do not usually
marry women for whom they do not
care."
“O, I don’t know about that!” said
Helen, gravely. “X think they do. Meh
are nuisances. Did you know it, dear?
But then they are nice to help you out
of carriages and put on your shawl and
pick up your scissors, and spool cotton,
when you drop them on purpose. Some
times I think I wish there hadn’t been
any men, but then when I want to talk
nonsense to somebody, and have some
body to tell me how pretty I am, I’m
right glad there waa a masculine gen
der in Murray’s grammar. Where was
that queenly Imogene when vour broth
er's first love was murdered?” .
"She was here. She waa to have been
one of the bridesmaids.”
“Ah! What a delightful tea rose you
have!" she rattled on; and looking at
her gay, careless face, an indifferent ob
server would not have believed that she
ever had a serious thought in her life.
Helen had not been long at the Rock
before she got a hint of the haunted
chamber and she at once made friends
with the servant, and obtained the
whole story. Instantly she made a re
solve. She meant to sleep in that room,
j sod fathom the mystery. She was a girl
of strong nerve and undaunted cour
age, and not by any means inclined to
superstition. During the day she made
the chamber a visit without the knowl
edge of any of the household.
It was a large lofty room, with white
ceilings and paper hangings of a pale
rose color and white. It had been sump
tously furnished, but now the dust lay
| thick and dark over everything. The
great windows were hung with cob
webs and the closed blinds gave ad
1 mittance ♦** no ray of sunshine. There
| was the' l ed. snowy-curtained, where
j she had last slept. By Ralph’s orders it
J had remained undisturbed ever since.
Helen touched the costly trinkets on
the table with something like awe—re
membering who had used them last.
There was a knot of ribbon that the
murdered girl had worn on her bosom;
there, too, was the little gold brooch
that had fastened her collar. In a closet
hung the bridal dress, spotted with
blood, side by side with the stiffened
and stained veil, to which the dead
orange flowers yet clung. Their petals
crumbled to dust, beneath tne touch of
Helen, and emitted a faint, sickly
sweetness.
“Helen Fulton, are you afraid?”
asked the girl of herself, putting her
hand on her heart to see If It beat
quicker than its wont. “No," she said.
“Helen Is not afraid. Not at all. Won’t
It be splendid to tell grandchildren,
that their courageous grandmother
slept in a genuine haunted chamber?
Won’t the little darlings creep Into bed
in a hurry and wrap their heads upt
under the coverlet?”
When night arrived, Helen' excused
herself early and went up to her cham
ber. She dressed herself In a thick,
warm dress, put a heavy shawl over
her shoulders and making sure that the
lamp was full of oil, she made her
noiseless way to the haunted chamber,
entered, and, locking the door behind
her, put the key in her pocket. SHe
meant to be secure from all intrusion.
Ghosts, she agreed would not need to
open the door to get In, If they were
onnoaox ones. Tne lamp burned bright
ly and lighted up every nook and cor
ner of the apartment. Helen did not
mean to go to bed; ahe aat on the sofa
and crochetted, laughing a little to her
aelf, at the idea of watching a ghost
and crochettlng a eontag at thp same
time. A dead silence reigned. The wind
which had blown through the day sub
sided and not even a deathwatch ticked
in the wainscot. The old clock chimed
10, then 11—Helen’s bright eyes began
to droop. She was growing decidedly
sleepy, and before she knew it her head
had sunk to the arm of the sofa and she
was asleep!
The consciousness of some presence
beside her own woke her suddenly. She
started up and rubbed her eyes. A cold
currrent of air swept over her, chilling
her from head to foot. The door into the
passage stood wide open and her lamp
swayed in the blast of air like a willow
tossed by autumn gales; and Just be
hind the great arm chair where Marina
had sat when the fatal blow was struck,
stood a tall figure enveloped in gauzy
white, and upon her head and over her
face was the bridal, blood-stained veil
—Helen could have sworn it! The right
hand of the spectre, the long, delicate,
marble-white hand was extended to
ward the chair; the other was tightly
pressed against her heart.
Helen took a step forward, but before
she could lay a hand upon the strange
presence it returned, dropped the veil
upon the floor and vanished through the
open door. Helen gave pursuit, but the
long corridor was empty—there did not
linger behind oven so much as tho echo
of a foot. For this time the girl was
baflled. But one thing she remembered.
The door of that chamber had been un
locked and the phantom had forgotten
to lock it after her; she was unable, it
appeared, to pass through keyholes,
like the spirits Helen felt acquainted
with, through the medium of various
novels she had read surreptitiously.
ITO BB CONTlJiOBP.I
THE FALL OF BOGU.
H# Cud to ns • Divinity, bat 11a Is
Plain "Bag” Now.
Contact with the Aryan race hap
played the mischief with the Indians,
but it brought others low, also, says the
New York Press. Long ago there was a
divinity called Bogu or Boghu, or Ba
galos. By and by Bagaois sunk to a
spook. He became a pooka- to scare
Irish peasantry with, a horrible being
that came at night to suck blood from
the living. He turned into a bogy
man, or, as it is sometimes pronounced
in the west, "boager-man.” That is
nearer to what the original soun.d must
have been. Note also in this connec
tion that fine-tooth combs are used in
ordeP to catch “boagers." * Poor Bogu
took two or three paths, all downward.
Not only did he turn into a common
terror but he became a sort of bogus
terror. In fact the word‘‘bogus” Itself1
came from his name. He is a scare
with nothing back of him, a ghost that
turns out to be a white stump. He is a
bugaboo, a bugbear, an imaginary diffi
culty. He degenerates into a sprite
that plays tricks on sleepers, knots
their hair, upsets the milkpans and the
like. He 1b Puck, the Joker, and no
body respects the jester. But worse is
yet to folow. In one edition of the
blble it reads: “The sun shall not
hurt thee by day, nor the bug by night.”
It reads now, “The terror by night,”
but the word has gone out and now the
despair of cleanly housewives, the oc
casion of the sale of so much stuff war
ranted death to every cimex, bears the
name of the deity in whose honor altars
smoked.
As Usual.
St. Peter—Are they all here?
Gabriel—All but New York and
Philadelphia.
St. Peter—What’s the matter with
them?
Gabriel—I couldn’t wake Phlladd
i phia and New York had to get her harp
! out' of pawn.—‘Judge. '
I Belonged to Hla Wire.
! “Did you see Jabberson last night
| spending money like a prince?”
| “Like a prince? He blew in about $4.
| Do you call that like a prince?”
“Sure. The money was his wife's.”—
Indianapolis Journal.
The dress to be worn by the Empress
of Russia at the1 coronation ceremonies
next year has just been ordered tn
Paris. It is to be decorated with pearla
and (old, and will cost $200,000.
FARM AND GARDEN.
MATTERS OF INTEREST TO
; AGRICULTURISTS.
I --
Same t.'p-to-Dute Hint* About Caltlra
tlon of the Soil and yields Thereof—
Horticulture, Viticulture and Flori
culture.
_
(From Farmers’ Review.)
HE average condi
tion of stock in the
state is reported as
follows, comparison
being with stock in
good, healthy and
thrifty condition;
Horses, 92 per cent;
sheep, 93 per cent;
cattle, 94 per cent;
and swine, 97 per
cent.
The average prices January 1 of some
of the principal farm products in the
markets where farmers usually market
such products, were as follows:
The average price of wheat was 59
cents per bushel; of corn, 32 cents; and
of oats, 21 cents; and the average "price
of hay was $13.12 per ton.
The average price of fat cattle was
I2.S3 per cwt.; of fat hogs, $3.19 per
cwt.; and of di-eSsed pork, $4.25 per
cwt. r
The average price of each class of
horses was as follows: Under one year,
$15.70; between one and two years old,
$24.37; between two and three, years
old, $36.12; three years old and over,
$52.65.
Milch cows were worth $26.45 per
head. Cattle other than milch cows,
under one year old, were worth, per
head, $7.03; between one and two years
old, $12.44; between two and three
years, $10.16; and three years old and
over, $25.70.
The average price of sheep under one
year old was $1.52 and one year old and
j over> $1-91; and hogs under one year
: old were worth $3.92, and one year old
I and over, $7.43.
I The prices here given are for the
I B^ate. For each class of horses, sheep
; and hogs they are higher, and for milch
! cows anti each class of cattle other than
| milch cows, lower, than the prices rul
ing in the southern four tiers of coun
; ties.
I Compared with January 1,1895, there
has been a decline in the prices of all
farm products named in this report ex
cept wheat, hay, sheep and cattle.
Wheat averages 9 cents a bushel, and
hay $5.17 a ton more now than one year
ago. Sheep under one year old have
advanced 20 cents, and those one year
old and over, 27 cents per head, and
the several classes ot cattle have ad
vanced from 9 to 26 cents per head.
The loss on corn is 14 cents, and on
oats 11 cents per bushel.
The decline in fat cattle is 11 cents;
fat hogs, 77 cents; and dressed pork,
72 cents per cwt.
The several classes of horses have
declined In value as follows: Under
one year old, $2.49; between one and
two years old, $4.05; between two and
three years old, $6.46; and three years
old and over, $8.12.
Milch cows have declined $1.46 per
head.
Hogs under one year old average 40
cents less, and those ono year old and
over, $1.36 less than a year ago.
Horses three years old and over were
worth $118.10 on January 1, 1890. Since
that date there has been a decline of
$65.45, or more than 55 per cent. The
average price each year since 1890
was as follows: 1891, $111.16; 1892,
$101.17; 1893, $91.91; 1894, $75.83; 1895,
$60.77, and 1896, $52.65.
Washington Gardner,
Secretary of State.
Selecting Seed Corn. '
A great many farmers who regard
themselves as quite careful in the se
lection of seed, content themselves with
making the selection at husking time
or from the crib, being guided by the
appearance of the ear. This is not
sufficient, however, to secure the best
result6. Prof. H. J. Waters, dean of
the Missouri Agricultural College, nar
rates a direct experiment on this point.
The field was gone through and fine
ears were selected from the large,
thrifty stalks having an abundant leaf
growth. Another lot of ears, equal in
size, was gathered from stalks smaller
and lees thrifty. After the seed had
been gathered, the one lot could not bo
distinguished from the other so far as
the appearance of the ears went. The
only difference was in the kind of stalk
that produced the ears. A field was
planted with these two lots of seed.
All through the season that portion
which had been grown from the seed
taken from the thrifty stalks could be
distinguished from the planting made
from the seed taken from the
less thrifty stalks. At harvest
time the difference in favor of
the seed from the large thrifty stalks
with plenty of leaf growth was seven
bushels per acre, and Prof. Waters
< thinks that it this process of selection
was carried on for a series of years §
variety of corn could be considerably
improved on the one hand, or almost
entirely run out on the other, ft fol
lows, therefore, that the selection of
seed ears from the crib, being guided
by size and general appearance of the
ear simply, Is not sufficient, and that it
Is quite as important to know the kind
of stalk that produced the seed ear as it
is to know that the ear itself has the
i size, form, etc., which suits the purpose
of the farmer.—Farmers' Review.
f Cost of Family Kerries.
You can have strawberries on the
table three times per day until the last
of June, raspberries and strawberries
together for awhile, then raspberries,
dewberries, currants and gooseberries,
which overlap well on the delicious
blackberry, and then grapes until De
cember. Meantime an abundance of
canned fruit to last until fresh berries
come again next season. These are not
kkife,.w,* A .
the stale berries bought on the market,
but fresh and clean directly from the
garden, and worth double as much as
the stale ones bought in town.
I think I know something of the C03t
of growing berries, and while I concede
that they cannot be grown as cheaply
in a small way as the wholesale grower
would produce them, yet I will contract
to pay the hired man his wages, buy the
plants and do all the work connected
with them till they are ready for pick
ing at two cents per quart for strawber
ries, raspberries, gooseberries and cur
rants; blackberries for three cents, and
grapes for half a cent per pound, and
have them all ready for picking, and
the latter work can be done for less
trouble than you can go to the grocer
for them.
Besides, if purchased you must pro
duce something else to get the money.
Then you must pay for picking at least
two cents per quart, boxes and commis
sions to dealers at least three cents
more. You buy a crate and carry them
home, and before you can eat them or
can them up, they arc stale and have
lost their flavor. You have so many
that you are rushed to get rid of them
before they spoil, and eat too many at
once, often bringing on serious disor
ders, and then go without for consider
able time; in fact, most farmers go
without the’m pretty much altogether.
In the eyes of the law it is not a crime
to deprive your family of these cheap,
uoa-given, delicious luxuries, but it Is
an offense against them, and the rush
of the boys from the farm to the cities,
where they see things in great profu
sion, bears evidence that it has more
to do with the breaking up of families
so early in life than any other one
thing. A steady diet of “hog and hom
iny,” pork and potatoes makes both
boys and girls restless, and they long
for a change.
Dr. Vaughan, dean of the medical fac
ulty of tba university at Ann Arbor, in
a lecture before the State Horticultural
Society, pointed out that there were
I many families seriously affected with
a disease closely resembling scurvy,
and. the only effectual remedy yet found
were the rich fruit acids. All such dis
eases had yielded promptly to this
treatment. A careful computation of
your bill3 for medicine during the year
will show it to be considerably more
than-the cost of the fruit garden, and
i so in many cases you can take your
choice at the same price, so unless you
really enjoy grunting and sickness you
should begin at once to prepare for the
spring planting.
Select the highest and best piece or
ground you can find, and as near the !
house as possible, so the good wife and
children can step out and pick the ber
ries just before the meal. Have all
rows long so the work can be done
with the horse, with as little hand
work as possible. Draw out at once
and spread a coat of well-rotted ma
nure, or if you do not have this use
fresh manure and let the winter rains
wash the juices down into and incor
porate it with the soil. The coarse
straw should be raked off and not be
plowed under, as it seriously injures the
ground in case of drouth.
Next to the fence set a row of aspara
gus. Fifty or a hundred rplants will
supply all the family can eat, and it i3
fully equal to green peas. Five feet
from this row and three feet apart set
25 Palmer, 60 Older or Conrath and 25
Gregg black raspberries. Seven feet
further set 25 Hansell, 25 Marlboro and
50 Cuthbert red raspberries. Another
row, same distance, put 25 Western Tri
umph and 25 Taylor blackberries, and
then a row of grapes, two Early Ohio,
three'Moore’s Early, five Delaware and
Moyer, ten Worden, ten Concord and a
few Agawam for early winter. This is
the permanent garden, which should
last several years.
Now we set for strawberries 50 War
field, 25 Bederwood, 50 Haverland, 25
Lovett, 50 Greenville and 50 Enhance.
Now with this put such vegetables as
you need. I am perfectly well aware
that I have provided for several times
as much as a family of six can eat, but
I wanted the children to have some
thing to take to town and sell for their
pin money. You will be astonished to
see how much money you can pick up
from such a garden, to say nothing of
Interesting the children in the work
and the general good cheer it will In
fuse into the home life.—R. M. Kellogg
In Farmers’ Review.
Advantages of tho Silo.
1. The silo stores away corn more
safely and more permanently than any
other plan. Silage is practically fire
proof, and will keep in the silo indef
initely.
2. Corn can be made into silage at
less expense than it can be preserved in
any other form.
3. The silo preserves absolutely all
but the roots of the corn.
4. Silage can be made in the sun
shine or in rain. Unlike hay, it is in
dependent of the weather.
5. When corn is ready for the silo,
there ts but little farm work pressing.
6. Corn is worth more to the dairy
as silage than in any other form.
7. At least one-third more corn per
acre may be ted on silage than on dried j
corn, stalkB or fodder. j
8. Corn is fed more conveniently as !
silage than in any other form. I
9. Silage is of most value when fed :
in combination with other food richer
in protein. It is not a complete food. :
10. Owing to its succulence and bulk
lness, silage is the best known. subst<
tute for green grass, and is therefore
especially valuaDle as a winter food.—
Jersey Bulletin.
A tllfttorlc House.
The beautiful castle of Visille, in
which the French revolution of 178/
was planned, and where the conspirat
ors met for a long time, was recently
sold by the ex-president of the French
republic, Casimir-Perier, to a Lyons
brewer for 500,000 francs. It is pro
posed to turn the historical castle into
| a large brewery.
Come TVrit tor Your Stag.
That’s what we cay, because ItJk tM
best. Suizer’s Wisconsin growjrseeq
are bred to earliness and produce tg
earliest vegetables in the world. Rig
alongside of other seedsmens’ earliest,
his are 20 days ahead! Just try his
earliest peas, radishes, lettuce, cabbage,
etc! He is the largest grower of farm
and vegetable seed3, potatoes, grasses,
clovers, etc!
, It yon will cat thl* out and send
It to the John A. Salzer Seed Co., La
Crosse, Wis., with 10c postage, you will
get sample package of Early Bird Rad
ish (ready In 16 days) and their great
catalogue. Catalogue alone 5c postage,
eluding above oats, free. w.n. .
Scrofula
Manifests Itself in many, different ways, like
goitre, swellings, running sores, trails, salt
rheum and pimples and other eruptions.
Scarcely a man is wholly free from it, in some
form. It clings tenaciously until tho last vestige
of scrofulous poison is eradicated from the blood
by Hood's Sarsaparilla. Thousands of voluntary
- testimonials tell of suffering from scrofula, often
inherited and most tenacious, positively, per
fectly and permanently cured by
Hood’ll
Sarsaparilla
The One True Blood Purifier. AH druggists. $1,
Prepared only by C. 1. Hoods Co., Lowe tl. Mass.
ji r>j.• act imrmontously with
stood S Fills Hood’s Sarsaparilla. 25a
■ ■ —.. — -s ■
The Greatest fledical Discovery
of the Age.
KENNEDY’S
MEDICAL DISCOVERY, j
DONALD KENNEDY, OF ROXBURV, MASS.,
Has discovered in one of our common
pasture weeds a remedy that cures every
kind of Humor, from the worst Scrofula
down to a common Pimple.
He has tried it in over eleven hundred
cases, and never failed except in twq, cases
(both thunder humor). He has now in his
possession over two hundred certificates
of its value, all within twenty miles of
Boston. Send postal card for book.
A benefit is always experienced from
the first bottle, and a perfect cure is war
ranted when the right quantity is taken;
When the lungs are affected it causes "
shooting pains, like needles passing
through them; the same with the Liver
or Bowels. This , is caused by the ducts
being stopped, and always disappears in a
week after taking it. Read the labef, >
If the stomach is foul or bilious it will -
cause squeamish feelings.at first. ]
No change of diet ever necessary. Eat ..-r
the best you can get, and enough of it
Dose, one tablespoonful in water at bed
time. Sold by all Druggists.
DO YOU KNOW ...
That the finest vegetables in the world are
grown from salzer’i seeds? Whvp Be
cause they are Northern-grown, bred to
earliness.and sprout quickly, grow rapidly
and produce enormously!
35 Packages Earliest Vegetable Seeds, $1.
POTATOES IN 28 DAYS!
Justthink of that! Yon can have them by plant
ing Salzer’s seed. Try it this year (
LOOK AT THBSB YIELDS IN IOWA.
Silver Mine Oats, • • • • • 197 bu. per acre.
Silver King Barley, • • • • . 95 bu. per acre.
Prolific Spring Rye,. .... 60 bn. per acre.
Marvel Spring Wheat, ... 40 bn. per acre.
Giant Spurry, ....... 8 tons per acre.
Giant Incarnat Clover, .- . 4 tons hay per acre.
Potatoes, ..... 800 to 1,100 bn. per acre.
Now,above yields Iowa fanners have had. A full
list of farmers from your and adjoining .states,
doing equally well, is published In our catalogue.
CIjOVBR sbbio.
Enormous stocks of clover, timothy and grass
seeds, grown especially for seed. Ah, it*tf fine!
Highest quality, lowest prices!
IF YOU WILL CUT THIS OUT AND SEND IT
With 12c. in stamps,you will get our big catalogue
and a sample oi Pumpkin Yellow Watermelon
sensation. Catalogue alone, 5c., tells bow to get
that potato.
IJOHN A. SALZER SEED CO.,.
LA CROSSE. WIS. VY N
Buflingtan
Jio One is
to Blame
but yourself, if your ticket
to St. Joseph, Kansas City,
Denver, Deadwood, Helena,
or Butte does not read via
the Bur.insjton Route.
The local ticket aaent has
tickets via the Burlington to
these and all other southern
and western ,-ities. He will
furnish you with one if you
ask for it. But you must
ask for it.
Letters of inquiry^address
ed to the undersigned will
receive prompt attention.
J. Francis, Gen’l Fass r Agt, Omaha, Neb.
I-iEGrGXUSrS!
Fine Army Duck, wlih «1 d * up tu., 81.00. Good
Heavy Dock, with Buckles. 4»5c. Sent prepaid on
receipt of price. Send else of *lioe and roensure of
•alf of leg. L. C. HUNTINGTON & SON, Omaha.
HAYDEN BR0S.,°B8,ia' **-**«*
■miwan WIIVVII Rtmucra rimaxs.
Write for catalogue offlprlag Fashion*, free.
I Babift Cored In 10
l.Ohio*
HillIBM Morphine Habit Cared li
•Sf‘32.'tT hemp son’s Eye Water.
W. N. U., OMAHA—8-1890. '
When writing to advertisers, kindly
mention this paper.
Good. Uael
■ Sold by druggista. |
QgH»iaiilHa