• . \ r .V
His Own Funeral Sermon.
George Inwood, of No. 709 Union
street lias written the sermon which
will be delivered at his own fnneral.
Moreover, to make certain that this
sermon shall be fully understood, that
there may be no faltering1 or hesitancy
over the blindly written words, he has
caused his funeral production to be
printed in large, bold type. One hun
dred copies were struck off. These are
kept in a strong box away from the
light, only to be produced on the day of
the funeral. Having thus arranged for
the statements of fact and belief to be
uttered, Mr. Inwood went a step fur
ther, and provided in his will, which
will be opened before the funeral serv
ices, for a reader. Any person who is
a sectarian in belief is hopelessly dis
qualified. The heirs will fail of ful
filment of the conditions upon
which bequests . are predicated is
that if any member of any sect
enunciates the words. This necessarily
bars out all clergymen. From this it
should not be inferred that Mr. Inwood
has no religious belie! Of himself he
says: “I am a full believer in the life
and doctrins of Jesus Christ, but I am
strictly non-sectarian.”—San Francisco
Examiner.
A Honker Story.
Among the passengers arriving at
Southaupton on Saturday last, by
the steam ship Norman, who was a
monkey of large size which came from
South Africa in charge of a passen
ger, by whom he was found after the
late explosion at Johannesburg, seated
in the only room remaining intact of
what had before been a considerable
sized cottage. In the room were also
discovered two baby children, one of
whom had been killed, but the other
was alive, and, it is said, in the arms
of the monkey, who was tenderly nurs
ing it. The living child was adopted
by a resident in Johannesburg, but the
monkey, who was noted on board for
his extreme fondness for children, was
a popular passenger by the Union Com
pany’s Mail steamer.—Westminister
Gazette.
Deafness Can Not Be Cured
By local applications, as they cannot
reach the diseased portion of the ear.
There is only one way to cure deafness,
and that is by constitutional remedies.
Deafness is caused by an Inflamed con
dition of the mucous lining of the Eus
tachian Tube. When the tube is In
flamed you have a rumbling sound or
Imperfect hearing, and when It Is en
tirely closed Deafness Is the result, and
unless the inflammation can be taken
out and this tube restored to Its normal
condition, hearing will be destroyed for
ever; nine cases out of ten are caused
by Catarrh, which Is nothing but an in
flamed condition of the mucous sur
faces.
We will give One Hundred Dollars for
any case of Deafness (caused by Ca
tarrh) that cannot be cured by Hall's
Catarrh Cure. Send for circulars, free.
P. J. CHENEY & CO„ Toledo. O.
Sold by druggists; 7Sc.
HaU’s Family Pills. 25c.
Between Boston Infants.
Emerson (aged 5)—“Have you not
been charmed by the accuracy of pro
portion in Gulliver’e Travels?”
. Winthrop (aged 7, with a superior
air)—“Indeed, no. Those sharp sight
ed, diminutive individuals, the Lilipu
tians. should have been the first to dis
cover microbes. ”—Truth.
Hegemon's Camphor Ice with Glycerine.
— o . - — - g———— wsys/oissstrs
The uriglnal and only genuine. Cures Chapped Hands
and 1 ace, Cold Sores. 4c. U. G. Clark Co.jf.Haven.Ct.
A Becoming Coiffure.
As for doing the hair up, think over
all the styles of coiffures you ever saw,
and then in front of mirrors, by the
aid of which you can see the front,
bask and both sides of the head, try
first one and then the other style—low,
high, wide, narrow, smooth bands,
crinkles, temple locks, middle part,
pompadour, figure eights, flat braids,
etc., etc.—and when you have hit upon
the one that makes the head and face
conform most nearly to a graceful
ideal, adopt that for your distinctive
stile and cling to it, though empires
fall.
My doctor said I would die, but Piso's
Cure for Consumption cured me.—Amos
Kelner, Cherry Valley, Ills., Nov. 28, ’95.
The smaller the soul the bigger a dollar
looks.
The man who makes his own god always
has a little one.
Gladness Comes
With a better 'understanding of the
transient nature of the many phys
ical ills, which vanish before proper ef
forts—gentle efforts—pleasant efforts—
rightly directed. There is comfort in
the knowledge, that so many forms of
sickness are not due to any actual dis
ease, but simply to a constipated condi
tion of the system, which the pleasant
family laxative, Syrup of Figs, prompt
ly removes. That is why it is the only
remedy with millionsof families, and is
everywhere esteemed so highly by all
who value good health. Its beneficial
effects are due to the fact, that it is the
one remedy which promotes internal
cleanliness without debilitating the
organs on which it acts. It is therefore
all important, in order to get its bene
ficial effects, to note when you pur
chase, that you have the genuine arti
cle, which is manufactured by the Cali
fornia Fig Syrup Co. only and sold by
all reputable druggists.
If in the enjoyment of good health,
and the system is regular, laxatives or
other remedies are then not needed. If
afflicted with any actual disease, one
may be commended to the most skillful
physicians, but if in need of a laxative,
one should have the best, and with the
well-informed everywhere. Syrup of
Figs stands highest and is most largely
ased and gives most general satisfaction.
1896 Hljh grade Ship1 el anywhere C. O. D. at
lelirea. weight IlioSlli
-Vunut
end for Catalogue,
-a. weight It __
H. HARDY a CO., 1319 Fa: iiu u, SL, Omaha, Ned.
LINDSEY. OMAHA* RUBBERS!
BY CLARA AUGUSTA
INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION.
CHAPTER I.
RCH Trevlyn had
had a good day.
Business had been
brisk. The rain
had fallen steadily
since daybreak,
auu toe
crossings in
York were
deep in
The little
street
New
ankle
m u d.
street
sweepers arms
ached fearfully, but his pocket was full
of pennies, Interspersed with an occa
sional half dime.
The clouds were breaking in the west,
and a gleam of sunshine gilded the tall
tower of St. John’s. Arch shouldered
his broom, and whistled a merry tune
as he took his way homeward. His
bright dark eyes sparkled as he thought
how the sight of his earnings would
cheer his feeble mother. She could
have tea now, with real milk and some
sugar in it, and an orange, too. Only
yesterday she was wishing she had an
orange.
Arch’s way led past a horticulturist's
store, and his eyes wandered longingly
over the display of flowers in the win
dow. He must have just one wee white
rose, because, only the Sabbath before,
while he sat at his mother’s feet, she
had wept in telling him «hnnt the sweet
roses that used to grow under the win
dow of the little country cottage where
her happy youth had been spent.
The white rose would be like bring
ing back to her ever so little a bit of
the happy past. It could not cost much,
and Arch felt wealthy as a prince. He
stepped into the store and asked the
price of a white rose. The clerk an
swered him roughly:
“Get out of the store, you young ras
cal. You want to steal something."
“I am not a thief, sir,” said the boy,
proudly, his sallow cheeks crimsoning
hotly. “I want a rose for my mother.|
I guess I can pay for it!”
“It’s half a dollar, if you want it,”
said the man sneeringly. “Show your
money, or take yourself off this min
ute!”
Arch’s countenance tell. He had not
half a dollar in all. He turned sadly
away, his head drooping, his lip quiv
ering. Oh, how very hard it was to
be poor, he thought, looking enviously
at the costly carriage with a pair of
splendid grays, standing before the
door.
“Stop, little boy!” said a sweet voice
from somewhere among the roses and
heliotropes. “Is your mother sick?”
Arch removed his cap—some inborn
spirit of courtesy prompting him to be
reverent toward the glorious vision
which burst upon him. For a moment
he thought he saw an angel, and al
most expected that she would unfold
her silvery wings, and vanish in a gold
en cloud from his sight. But after the
first glance he saw that she was a little
girl about his own age—eight or nine
years old, perhaps—with yellow curls,
deep hazel eyes, a mouth like a rosebud,
and a blue silk frock. She repeated the
question:
“Is your mother sick, little boy?”_
“No, she is not sick, _for she always
sits up, and sews. But she is not
strong, and her cheeks never have any
color in them, like yours.”
"And does she love flowers?”
“Yes, she loves them dearly. She
kisses them always, when she has any.
And that’s not often.”
“Does she? That’s nice. Just like I
do!” said the little girl in a pleased
voice. “Mr. Burns”—to the gruff
clerk—"here is a dollar. Give me some
real nice roses, and two or three sweet
pinks. The lady shall have some flow
ers. Tell her I sent them.”
“Who shall I say sent them?”
“Margie Harrison. Will she know
me, think?”
"I guess not. But it's all the same.
[ shall tell her you are one of the angels,
any way. She knows about them, for
Bhe’s told me ever so much about them.”
The little girl laughed, and gave him
the flowers.
“Don’t soil them with your grimy
hands,” she said a little saucily; “and
when you get home—let’s see, what’s
your name?”
"Archer Trevlyn.”
“Why, what a nice name! Just like
names in a story book. I know some
elegant people by the name of Trevlyn.
But they live in a big house and have
Bowers enough of their own. So they
can’t be your folks, can they?”
“No, they’re not my folks,” replied
the boy,with a touch of bitterness in his
voice,
“Well, Archer, when you get home,
you wash your face, do! It’s so dirty,”
The boy flushed hotly. If one of his
companions had said that to him, he
would have knocked him down instant
ly. But he forgave everything this lit
tle girl said, because she was so beau
tiful and kind.
“I am a street sweeper, miss.”
“Oh, that accounts for it. then. It’s
vwy iruddy today, and you must be
:hed. Hark! there’s Florine calling me.
3ood-by, Archer.”
She vanished, and a moment later
the boy say her disappear within the
flittering carriage, which, loaded down
with fragrant blossoms, was driven
slowly away. He stood a little while
looking after it, then, pulling his cap
lown over his eyes, and grasping the
stems of her flowers tightly in his
ittle purple hand, he started home.
Home! It could hardly be called so,
wd yet it was home to Archer. His
mother war there—the dear mother
who was all the world to him. It was
a poor part of the city—an old, tumble
down wooden house, swarming with
tenants, teeming with misery, filth and
crime.
Up a crazy flight of steps, and turn
ing to the right. Arch saw that the door
of his mother's room was half open, and
the storm had beaten in on the floor.
It was all damp and dismal, and such
an indescribable air of desolation over
everything! Aren’s heart beat a little
slower as he went in. His mother sat
in an arm chair by the window, an
uncovered box in her lap, and a min
iature locket clasped in her hand.
“Oh, mother! mother dearest!" cried
Arch, holding up the flowers, “only look
what I have got! An angel gave them
to me! A very angel, with hair like the
sunshine, and a blue frock, all real silk!
And I have got my pocket full of pen
nies, and you shall have an orange,
mother, and ever so many nice little
things beside. See, mother dear!”
He displayed a handful of coin, hut
she did not notice him. He looked at
her through the gloom of the twilight,
and a feeling of terrible awe stole over
him. He crept to her side and touched
her cheek with his finger. It was cold
as ice. A mortal pallor overspread his
face; the pennies and the flowers rolled
unheeded to the floor.
"Dead! dead! My mother is dead! ’
he cried.
He did not display any of the passion
ate grief which is natural to childhood
—there were no tears In his feverish
eyes. He took her cold hands in his
own, and stood there all night long,
smoothing back the beautiful hair and
talking to her as one would talk to a
sick child.
It was thus that Mat Miller found him
the next morning. Mat was a little
older than himself—a street sweeper,
also. She and Arch had always been
good friends; they sympathized with
each other when bad luck was on them,
and they cheered lustily when fortune
smiled.
“Hurrah, Arch!” cried Mat, as she
burst into the room; “it rains again,
and we shall get a harvest! Good
gracious, Arch! is—your—mother—
dead?”
“Hush!” said the boy, putting down
the cold hand; “I have been trying to
warm her all night, but it’s no use.
Only just feel how like ice my hands
are. I wish I was as cold all over, and
then they would let me stay with' my
mother.” 1
“Oh, Arch!” cried the girl, sinking-:
down beside him on the desolate hearth,
“it’s a hard world to live in. I won
der if, when folks be dead, they have
to sweep crossings, and be kicked and
be cuffed round by old grandmas when
they don’t get no pennies? If they
don’t then I wish I was dead, too,
Arch!”
“I suppose it's wicked, Mat. She used
to say so. She told me never to get
tired of waiting for God’s own time—
her very words, Mat. Well, now her
time .has come, and I am all alone—all
alone! Oh, mother—mother!” He
threw himself down before the dead
woinan, and his form shook with emo
tion, but not a tear came to his eyes.
Only that hard, stony look of hopeless
despair. Mat crept up to him and took
his head in her lap, smoothing softly
the matted chestnut hair. .
"Don’t take on so, Arch, don’t!” she
cried, the tears running down over her
sunburnt face. ’Till be a mother to ye.
Arch! I will, indeed! I know I’m a lit
tle brat, but I love you. Arch, and some
time, when we get bigger, I’ll marry
you, Arch, and we’ll live in the country,
where there’s birds and flowers, and it’s
just like the park all round. Don’t
feel so, don't!”
Arch pressed the dirty little hands
that fluttered about him—for, next to
his mother, he loved Mat.
“I will go out now and call some
body,” she said; “there’s Mrs. Hill and
Peggy Sullivan, if she ain’t drunk.
Either of them will come!” And a few
minutes later the room was filled with
the rude neighbors.
They did not think it necessary to
call a coroner. She had been ailing for
a long time. Heart complaint, the
physician said—and she had probably
died in one of those spasms to which
she was subject So they
robed her for the grave, and when all
was done, Arch stole in and laid the
pinks and roses on her breast.
“Oh, mother! mother!” he said, bend
ing over her in agony, “she sent them
to you, and you shall have them! I
thought they would make you so hap
py! Well, maybe they will now! Who
chn tell?’* v- '
The funeral was a very poor one. A
kind city missionary prayed over the
remains, vmd the hearse was followed
to Potter’s Field only by Mat and
Arch—ragged and tattered, but sincere
mourners. • :
CHAPTER II.
HEN they ca me
back Mat took
Arch’s hand and
led him into the
wretched den she
called home.
“You shall stay
here. Arch, with
Grandma Rugg
and me. She Bald
you might if you’d
be a good boy. and
not plague the cat Grandma’s a
rough one, but she ain’t kicked me since
[ tore her cap off. I’m too big to he
kicked now. Sit down, Arch; yon
know you can't Hay at home now.”
Yea, to be eure he could not stay there
any longer. No one knew that any bet
ter than Arch. The landlord had
warned him out that very morning. A
half-quarter’s rent was still due, and
the meager furniture would hardly suf
fice to satisfy his claim. Hitherto, Mrs.
Trevlyn had managed to pay her own
expenses, but, now that she was gone,
Arch knew that it was more than folly
to think of renting a room. But he
could not suppress a cry of pain when
they came to take away the things, and
when they laid their rude hands on the
chair in which his mother died, poof
Arch could endure no more, but fled
out into the street and wandered about
till hunger and dreariness forced him
back to the old haunt.
He accepted the hospitality of Grand
ma Rugg, and made his home with her
and Mat. The Influences which sur
rounded him were not calculated to de
velop good principles, and Arch grew
rude and boisterous, like the other
street boys. He heard the vilest lan
guage—oaths were the rule rather than
the exception in Grigg Court, as the
place was called—and gambling, and
drunkenness, and licentiousness
abounded. Still, it was singular how
much evil Arch shunned.
nut mere was growing witmn mm a
principle of bitter hatred, which one
day might embitter his whole exist
ence. Perhaps he had cause for it; he
thought he had, and cherished it with
jealous eare, lest it should be annihil
ated as the years went on.
From his mother’s private papers he
had learned much of her history that
he had before been ignorant of. She
had never spoken to him very freely of
the past. She knew how proud and
high his temper was, and acted with
wisdom in burying the story of her
wrongs in her own breast.
Her father, Hubert Trevlyn, had
come of a proud family. There was no
bluer blood in tbe land than that which
ran in the veins of the TreVlyns. Not
very far back they had an earl for their
ancestor, and, better than that, the
whole-long lineage had never been tar
nished by a breath of dishonor.
Hubert was the sole child of his fath
er, and in him were centered many
bright and precious hopes. His father
was a kind parent, though a stern one,
who would never brook a shade of dis
obedience in this boy upon whom his
fondest hopes and aspirations were
fixed.
When Hubert was about twenty-four
he went into the country for his health,
which was never very robust, and while
there he met Helen Crayton. It was
a case of love at first sight, but none
the less pure and steadfast on that ac
count. Helen was an orphan—a poor
seamstress, but beautiful and intelli
gent beyond any woman he had ever
mqt. They loved, and they would not
be cheated out of their happiness by
any worldly opposition. Hubert wrote
to his father, informing him of his love
for, Helen, and asking his consent to
their union. Such a letter as he re
ceived in return! It bade him give up
the girl at once and return home. , If
he ever spoke of her again he was dis
owned forever! He might consider
himself houseless and homeless.
Hubert had some of the proud Trev
lyn blood in his composition, and this
fetter roused it thoroughly. A week
afterward he was the huBband of Helen
Crayton. .He took hiB young wife to
the city, and, having something of a
talent for painting, he opened a studio,
hoping to receive sufficient patronage
from his friends to support his family
in comfort.
(TO BE CONTINUED. I
NEW SUBMARINE BOAT.
In Which Three Men Can Live Under
Water Twelve Bonn.
Tet another submarine boat has been
Invented, or ia it an old friend under
an assumed name? Be this as It may,
a submarine boat, ordered by the Bra
zilian government, was to be tried this
week on the Seine, and the trials being
satisfactory other and larger vessels
are to be built, says the Court Journal.
The new boat, which is named the
Goubet, is some tewenty-six feet long,
about 6 feet 6 inches in diameter in the
center, and has a displacement of about
ten tons. The motive power is supplied
by electricity, and the screw also serves
the purpose of a rudder, the shaft being
Joined so as to enable it to be turned
either to the right or to the left. Three
men, the inventor claims, can live un
der water in the Goubet for twelve
hours with the supply of compressed
air. This has, of course, to be proved;
but in the event of anything going
wrong, a lead keel, weighing over a
ton will be dropped, and the boat will
at once come to the surface like a cork.
On account of electricty being used for
supplying the propelling power, the
sphere of action of the new boat must
of necessity be very limited, as com
passes cannot be used, but it could do
all that is required of it, if taken on
board a vessel and launched when the
enemy’s ships were in sight. The Gou
bet’s mission is to throw torpedoes, and
if the arrangement for throwing these
projectiles can be relied upon, she will
prove a formidable antagonist. To
sink the Goubet water is let into com
partments in the lower part of the boat,
and when it is sunk to any required
depth in that position it remains ex
actly, the arrangement for sinking the
vessel being so beautifully and care
fully arranged. One ounce of water—
more or less—will cause the boat to sink
lower or come nearer the surface.
Floo'U of tho Nila.
The floods of the Nile are so regular
in their coming that for hundreds of •'
years they have not varied ten days j
In the date of their arrival at a given j
point. The Nile mud, which renders
Egypt a habitable country, is said to
bear a striking resemblance to that;
which every season is brought down j
by Missouri.
Half Fare to Virginia and Carolina.
On May 5 homeseekers* excursion
tickets will be sold from all points in
the West and Northwest over the "Big
Four Route” and Chesapeake & Ohio
Uy. to Virginia andNorth Carolina at
one fare for the round-trip. Settlers
looking for a home in the South can do
no better than in Virginia. There
they have cheap farm lands, no blis
znrds, no cyclones, mild winters, never
failing crops, cheap transportation and
the best markets. Send for free de
cretive pamphlet, excursion rates and
time folders. U. L. Truitt, N. W. P.
A., 23-1 Clark St, Chicago. 111.
Fair and Fruitful
As the West Is, It Is often malarious. But It
Is pleasant to know that a competent safe
guard irt tho shape of Hostetter's Stomach
Hitlers exists, which absolutely nullfles the
poison of miasma Western bound emi
grants should Deur this in mind. Nor should
it be forgotten, tlio llltters is a stcrllngrem
euy for dyspepsia, bllllousness, constipa
tion, kidney and nervous complaints and'
yheumntlsm:__
There 1b no aristocracy so great ns that
in a little town.
The mere one uses Parker's Ginger Toale
the mure Its khkI qualities .. re revealed In die, elllng
colds, indigestion, pains uud every kind of weakn.es.
The most finished literary product has
no charm for the proof reader.
Walking would often he a pleasure
were It not for the oo ns. These pcMs nre easily re
moved with Ulndercorns. lie. at druggists.
The poorest cyclist often has the finest
cycling suit.__
Fits stopped free by Dr. K line's (Irens
gerve Restorer. N u Kits alter the nrst one’s use.
Marvelous cures. Treatise ami »2lr.s I lot l |e fi r. t»
It it eases, tend to or. Kline,wl .lieabt., folia., fa.
The knife of the guillotine is weighted
with ISO pounds of lead. > ’
There is no temptation for a man to
wear skirts._
If the Baby Is Cutting Teetn.
Be nre and use that old and well-tried remedy, ,
(Vis-snow's SooTimra Svatir for Children Teething.
Billiard table, second-hand, for sale
ehcap. Apply to or address, H. C. Atm,
_ Ml a lith St., Omaha, Neh,
The Hit
of the • *
Season...
is made by
Ayer's Sarsa
parilla. Just
at this season
when Spring
ancyts debili
tating dgys
ure with us,
there fa noth
ing like^Lyer’s
Sarsaparilla
to put-new
life into the
sluggish sys
tem. It sweep*
away the dull
ness, laqk of,
app>etite, lan
guidness, &nd '
pain, as a
broom sweeps
away cob- l j
webs. It does
not brace up
It builds up-v ’^
Its benefit is
yvs
pasting. Dr;;;:
you feel run.,
down? Taka!
AYER'S
Sarsaparilla
Send for “Curcbdok,” too pagen>
Free. J. C. Ayer Co., ' -i. >
Lowell, Mass.
Queer Names.-*
" A Crick "—” A Slllob’
"A Twist’*—*• A Jam"
‘A Halt"—“Baw Spots"
. Blue Spots”—” Dead Aches”—
are all well known of flesb, bone, Ct TiJrfthc HU
*1 muscle, and easily cured by kJlstlclVUUj Ulle iM
The coming Artist who
to paint a popular subject.
knows enough..
> iiv
PLUG .
You get 5H oz. of “Battle Ax**
for 10 cents* You pnly get 3i oz*,l
of other brands of no bkter quality
for 10 cents* In other words, if you
buy “Battle Ax” you get 2 oz*
more of high grade tobacco for the,
same. money* Can you afford tp
resist this fact? We say NO—
unless you have “Money to Burn;”
•if,
•WALL PAHtK FREE*
Would be dearer than AI<ABASTI1VB,
which docs not require to be taken off to
renew, does not harbor germs, bat destroys
them. and any one can brush It on, n*;
Sold by all paint dealers. Write lor card
With samples.
ALABASTIHE C0-, Grand Rapids, Mid,
FARM LANDS hr Sait.
In the states of Virginia, North and South Caro- |
1 11 na, Georgia, Alab*mat'Mi*!dswi>i»l, Tmiiii*****,
Kentucky. Lahd^ Kicun>ioii» from the North- j
vrtfhl to Southern R*y Points April HI and May \
1 A. Detailed Information with maps andUeftcrlp- ,
live pamphlets will be sent free U|*>n anpllca- A
tion 10 Jtt. V. Richards, Land A pent Southern
Railwav. Washington, D. C. He will aim send '
to unv ndd re** free, a IS-pare Journal, “THE <
SOUTHERN FIELD,*' which should be read ,
by every Northern family.
WE HAVE NO agents
wm — ■ M1W ha but Mil direct to the con
nuiner at wooumie prices. ;
ship anywhere for examin- :
atton before sale. Ercrjr- |
thin* warranted. 100 styles
of Carriages, W stylbs of j
.Harness, 41 styles Riding Sag- !
I ilea. Write for catalogue.
lUKin CiBBUGI a HAH.
IK8S am CO.. KLUUHT,
■SB.
w. u. » ratt, Becy.
RIICCIEQ a* low mIO-oo.
DUDDILO Mariwjs for $7t>.
l(K)«tyUa. Good variety «. f
eecond-hand Carriages and
Wagons. Nobody m»ils on
rloH r mi reins.
DKl’MMOND CARRIAGE CO.
lttb and Htuuoy t>t», Omaha
SCHOOL DESKS SWLX?a‘.S;l
WNtoro School Supply Home. Dm XoIum. la.
Write for what you want
to Tills MIX?HEM IN.
VESTMENT CO., Minin*
Exchange, Denver, polo*
DROPSY
TBEATBA «U*V ^ <
TBE4TBD -,
Pmltlwly Cared with Vegetable_
Bat* cured thousand! of COSOS. Cura rum bn.
aounosd hopeless by beat physicians, iron hot dose
— --- "7 ccc no pujaieiuha rtUBIUni (HNS
symptoms disappear: la ten days at least m.|Ue M
all *y mo tom a removed. Bend lor-—■■
. , • ™ ™su *»* free book tYHttrao*
niAls of mlreculoo* curer. Ton day's treatmeti* ire*
by mall. If you order trial send lUc la atampate
po«tare. Pa. H. H. (Jkkkn & Boas, Atlanta, <^
you order trial return tide ad'UtlMiaut to us.
WELL MACHINERY
Illnattatad etWom abawixm
Biou CMy Eadn* ud Iran Work*.
Sueonaon to Penh Mf*. Co. 7
_ _ Hmi City. lam. .
”**■ Rownx A Chub lUcHirau Co..
Mil TTtnc Marencri Mnn, ami City ’/
•Jwwhh * nxumoi craith,
'#t*Y,£sR3m
WMiiimn Cra«t5
opium awi
Win MrM. «Mt MM '
muuR,mun,«i. >
W. N. U., OMAHA—17—18f>6
When writing to advertisers, kindly
__mention this paper.
