Dyspepsia of Women ABSOLUTELY NEEDLESS AGONY Caused by Uterine Disorders and Cured by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound A great many women suffer with a form of indigestion or dyspepsia which does not seem to yield toordinary treat ment. While the symptoms seem to b« similar to those of ordinary indiges tion, yet the medicines universally pre scribed do not seem to restore the pa I tient’s normal condition. Reflection* of a Rhinoceros. j Chicago Tribune: I am glad beauty la only skin deep. Sometimes I wonder what I was made -■for. anyhow. ' I hear other animals talking about mos iqultoea. IVhat are mosquitoes? i Of all the awkward, ungainly things I •ever saw. I think the kangaroo In that imext cage Is the queerest. • It must be awfully unhandy for these *two-legged creatures they tall men to ‘enove around. They seem to have only ■one toe on each foot Some day when I have a good chance ,V!l run my horn through that fellow (with the sharp stick that makes me get jtjp and walk around when I'm tired, ilo Juiowa where my sore spots are. A Great Discovery, ■ Clayton, Texas, May 1.—(Special.i— (That a genuine cure for Diabetes has (been discovered is the opinion of Mr. .1. H. Bailey of this place. Speaking of the matter Mr. Bailey says: “I believe Dadd’s Kidney Pills Is the beat remedy for Diabetes and the only rone that has ever been discovered that will cure Diabetes. “I have a genuine case of Diabetes. ,1 have taken seven boxes of Dodd's .Kidney Pills and am still taking them. |They have helped me so much that I aeh now up and able to work some, r .believe that If I had conformed strictly to a Dlabetei diet I would now have 1>een completely cured." Dodd’s Kidney Pills have cured linn 4reds of cases of Diabetes and never once failed. It Is an old saying that jwbat will cure Diabetes will cure any ■form of Kidney Disease and that's Just •■exactly wbat Dodd’s Kidney Pills do. 'They cure all kidney diseases from (Backache to Bright’s Disease. ‘ A Distinction. Public ledger: The dowager em apreiss of China has decided that the ('hl kiexe lawyers who are on the boards of punishments must study law. The ^dowager seems to know the distinction . (between a lawyer and a member of the "bar. Mrs. Wlmalow ■ bootbiso oraur Tor Children Aeechies: eofteca the sum*, reducee inflammation s'* -tsre eels, eeree cent a botLi* Not for His Title. ’ Chicago Record-Herald: "Ah!" said the «arl, “I am afraid you are marrying me merely for my title.” ' "Oh, dear, no!” replied the heiress. It’s 'merely because I want to see Unit dear old castle of yours repaired before It is an •utter ruin." In a Pinch, Use Allen’s Foot-Knae. It Is the only cure for Swollen, Smarting. (Tired. Aching, Hot. Snouting Feet. Korns •ad Bunions. Ask for Allen's Foot-Ease, h powder to be shaken Into the shoes. Cures while yon walk. At all Drugglats nnd Shoe Stores 25c. Don’t accept any substitute. Sample sent FREE. Address, Allen S. Hint Tied, LeRoy, N. Y. Then and Now. Philadelphia Bulletin: "When John D (Aatorfeller started In life he worked In a -country store und was glad to sleep under (the counter." "And now?” "He’s so troubled with Insomnia that -he’d be glad to sleep anywhere." Raw's Thiel We offer One Hundred Dollars Reward tot any ease of Catarrh that cannot be cured by HaU's Catarrh Cure. F. J. CHUNKY & 00., Props. Toledo. O. We the tinderslgned.have known F. J. Cheney , for the last IS years, and belloyo him perfectly honorable In all business transactions and finan cially able to carry out any obligation made by their Arm. Waer hTituax, Wholesale Druggists,Toledo.O. Waujiko. Kinnan & Makvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo. O. Hairs Catarrh Cure Is taken Internally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfacor. of the system. Price 7Bc. per bottle. Sold by all i Druggists. Testimonials free. Hall’s Family Pills sre tbs best. Wants to Sell. Chicago News: When you hear a man praising Ills neighbors It's dough- ' nuts to fudge he wants to sell hls ; house. ITCHING SCALP HUMOR. ifSuffered Tortnree Until Cured by Cutlcura—Scratched Day and Night. “My acalp whs covered with little tplmples nnd l suffered tortures from (the Itching. I was scratching all day A**AAAi» j ’* Tls good and true of you to say so, little one; but there he two sides to that as well. So my father’s acres come at last to you and Richard Jennifer, I shall be well content, I do assure you, Mar gery." She sprang up from her low seat and went to stand in the window bay. After a time she turned and faced once again, and the warm blood was in cheek and neck, and there was a soft light in her eyes to make them shine like stars. "Then yon would have me marry Rich* ard Jennifer?" she asked. ’Twas hut a little word that honor bade me say, and yet it choked me and I could not say it. "Dirk would have you, Margery; and Dick is my dear friend—as I am his." "But you?" she queried. “Were you my friend, as well, is this as you would have it?" My look went past her through the lead-rimmed window-panes to the great oaks and hickories on the lawn; to these and to the white road winding in and out among them. While yet I sought for words In which to give her unreservedly to my dear lad, two horsemen trotted into view. One of them was a king's man; the other a civilian in sober black. The redcoat rode as English troopers do, with a firm seat, as if the man were master of his mount; but the smaller man in black seemed little to the manner born, and daylight shuttled in arid out beneath h!m, keeping time to the Jog-trot of his beast. I thought it passing strange thut with all good will to answer her. these coming horsemen seemed to hold me silent. And, indeed, 1 did not speak until they carne so near that C could make them out. "1 am your friend, Margery mine; as good a friend as you will let me be. And as between Richard Jennifer and another, T should [>e a sorry friend to Dick did I not—" She heard the clink of horseshoes on the gravel and turned, signing to me for silence while she looked below. The win dow' overhung the entrance on that side, through the opened air casement I heard some babblement of voices, though not the words. "I must go down,” she said. “'Tis com pany come, and my father is away." She passed behind my chair, and. hear ing her hand upon the latch, I had thought her gone—gone down to welcome my enemy and his riding mate, the fac tor. But while I was cursing my unready tongue and repenting that I had nof.'glv en her some small word of warning, she spoke again. “You say ‘Richard Jennifer or another.’ What know you of any other, Monsieur John?" "Nay, 1 know nothing save what, you have told me; and from that I have been hoping there was no other." “But if T say there may be?" My heart went sick at that. True, T had thought to give her generously to Dick, whose right was paramount; but to another— • “Margery, come hither where I may see you." And when she stood before me Ilka a bidden child: "Tell me, little comrade, who is that other?" But now her mood was changed, and from standing sweet and pensive she fell a-laughlng. “What Impudence!” she cried. “Ma fol! You should borrow Pere Matthieu’s cassock and breviary; then, mayhap, I might confess to you. But not before.” But still l pressed her. “Tell me, Margery." She tossed her head and would not look at me “Dick Jennifer is but a hoy; suppose this other were a man full grown.” “ Y es ?' ’ “ A n.l a anl.l Ia.< •• The sickness In my heart became a fire. "O, Margery! Don’t tell me It Is this fleml who came Just now!" All in u flash the Jesting mood was gone, but that which took Its place was strange to me. Tears came; her bosom heaved. And then she would have passed me but I caught her hands and held them fast. "Margery, one moment; for your own sweet sake, If not for Dick's or mine, have naught to do with this devil’s emissary of a man. If you only knew—If I "dared tell you—” Hut for once, It seemed, I had stretched my privilege beyond the limit. She whipped her hands from my hold and faced me coldly, “Sir Francis says you are a brave gen tleman, Captain Ireton, jnd though he knows well what you would be about, he has not sent a file of men to put you In arrest. And In return you call him names behind his back. 1 shall not stay to listen, sir.” With that she passed again behind my chair, and once again I heard her hand upon the latch. Hut 1 would say my say. ''Forgive me. Margery, I pray you; 'twas only what you said that made mo mad. 'Tls less than naught it' you'll deny It.” I waited long and patiently, and thought ahe must have gone before her answer came And this Is what she said; "If I must tell you then; 'tls now two weeks nnd more since Sir Francis Fal connet asked me to marry him. I—I hope you do feel better, Captain Ireton." And with these bicterest of all wordr to her leave-taking, she left me to en dure an best 1 might the hell of torment they had lighted for me. CHAPTER VI. SHOWING HOW RED WRATH MAY HEAL A WOUND. It was full two days after the coming of the baronet and the factor-lawyei Pengarvin before I saw my lady's fact near-hand again, and sometimes 1 vva« glad for Richard Jennifer's sake, bul oftener would curse and swear be cause I was bound hand and foot ant could not balk my enemy. I knew Sir Francis and the lawyei still lingered on at Appleby Hundred Indeed, I saw them dally from my win dow—and Darius would be telling me that they waited upon the coming o some courlet from the south. But thh I disbelieved. Some suchlike lie th< baronet might have told, I thought; bu when I saw him walk abroad wltt Margery on his arm, pacing back ant forth beneath the oaks t-nd bending lov to catch her lightest word with gravi and courtly deference that none knov better how to feign, 1 knew wherefon he stayed—knew and raged afresh a my own impotence, nnd for the though that Margery was wholly at the mere; of this devil. Yours Is a colder century than wa ours, my dears. Your art has tempere< love and passion into sentiment, ant hate you have learned to call aversloi or dislike. But we of that simple-heart ed elder time were more downright and 1 have writ the word 1 mean Ii saying that my love was at the mere; of this fiend. I know not how It is or why, bu there are men who have this gift—sont winning way to turn a woman's hea< or touch her heart; and I knew wel this gift was his. 'Twas not his face for that was something less than hand some, to my fancy; nor yet his figure though that was big and soldierly enough. It was rather in some sublety of manner, some power of simulation whereby jn any womanly heart he seemed to stand at will for that which he was not. As I have said, I knew him well enough: knew him incapable of love apart from passion, and that to him there was no sacredness in maiden chastity or wifely vows. So he but gained lis end, he r%red no whit what followed after: ruin, broken hearts, lost so ils, a man slain now and then to keep the scale tipping—all were as one to him. or to the Francis Falconnet I knew. And. touching marriage, with Mar gery or any other, 1 feared that love would have no word to say. Passion there might he, and that fierce desire to have and wear which burns like a miser’s fever In the blood; but never love as lovers measure It. Why, then, had he proposed to Margery? The an swer did not tarry. Since he was now hut a gentleman volunteer It was plain that he had squandered his estate, and so might brook the marriage chain if it were linked up with my father's acres. It was a bait to lure such a gamester strongly. As matters stood with us in that wan summer of exhaustion and defeat, the king’s cause waxed and grew more hopeful day by day. And in event of final victory a landless baronet, marrying Margery's dower of Appleby Hundred, might snap his fingers at the Jews who, haply, had driven him forth from Kngland. And as for Margery? Truly, she had tol«t me, or as good as told me, thp.t her maiden love had pledged itself a pawn for Jennifer’s redeeming. But there be other tilings than love to sway a wom an’s will. This volunteer captain with the winning way was of the haute noblesse, and he could make her Lady Falconnet. Moreover, he was with her day by day; and you may mark this as you will, that a present suitor hath ever the trump cards to play against the absent lover. So. brooding over this, I wore out two most dismal days—the first in many I had had to pass alone. But on the morning of the third the sky was light ened, though then the light was but a flash and darkness followed quickly after. She came again and brought me a visitor; It vvaa this same Father Mat thieu with whom she had jestingly compared me, and lest I should take my punishment too lightly, stayed but to make the good priest known to me. Now 1 was born and bred an heretic, by any papist’s reckoning, but I have ever held It witless ir. that man who lets a creed obstruct a friendship. Moreover, this sweet-faced cleric was the friendliest of men; friendly, and yet Lhe wiliest Jesuit of them all, since he read md at a glance ard fell straight way to praising Margery. ”A truly sweet young demoiselle,” he said, by way of foreword, no sooner was the door closed behind her, and while he preached a sermon on this text I grew to know and love him. He was a little man, as bone and muscle go, with deep-set eyes, and fea tures kind and mild and fine as any woman's: some such face as Leonardo gave St. John, could that have been less youthful. I could not tell Ills order, though from his well-worn cassock girded at the waist with a frayed bit of hempen cord he might have tieen a Little Brother of the Poor. But this I noted; that he was not tonsured, and his white hair, soft and fine as Mar gery's, was like an aureole to the finely chiseled features. As mlssionay men of any creed are apt, he looked far older than he really was; and when he came to tell me of his life among the Indians, It was patent how the years had multi plied upon him. I listened, well enough content to learn him better by his own report. "But you must find It thankless work; this gospeling in the wilderness," I ventured, when all was said. “ 'Tis but a hermit's life for any man of parts; and after all, when you have done your utmost, your converts are but savages, as they were." At this he smiled and shook his head. “No, monsieur, not so. You are a sol dier and cannot sec beyond your point of sword. Mills, mon ami, they have souls to save, these poor children of the forest, ami they are far more sinned against than sinning. I find them kind and true and faithful; and somo of them are noble, in their way.” I laughed. "I’ve read about these noble ones," I said. “ 'Twas in a book caled ‘Hakluyt's Yolages.’ Truly, I know them not as you do, for in my youth 1 knew them most in war. We called them brave but cruel then; and when I was a hoy I could have shown you where, within a mile of this, they burned poor Davie Davidson at the stake." "Ah, yes; there has been much of that," he sighed. “But you must con fess. Cuptaln Ireton, that you English carry tire and sword among them, too." From that he would have told me more about the savages, but I was In terested nearer home. As I have said, 1 was like any prisoner tn a dungeon for lack of news, and so by degrees I fetched him round to telling me of what was going on beyond my window sight of lawn and forest. Brave deeds were to the fore, it seemed. At Ramsour's mill, a few miles north and west, some little hand ful of determined patriots had bested thrice their number of the king's par tisans. and that without a leader big ger than a oountv colonel. Lord Raw don. In command of Lord Corn wallis' van, had come as far as Waxhaw creek, but being unsupported, had withdrawn to Hang ing Rock. Our Mr. Rutherford was on his way to the Forks of Yadkin to en gage the Tories gathering under Colo nel Bryan. As yet, it seemed, we had no force of any consequence to take the field against Cornwallis, though there were flying rumors of an army marching from Virginia, with a new appointed general at its head. On the whole it was the king’s cause that prospered, and the rising wave of invasion bade fair to inundate the land. So thought my kindly gossip; and. hav ing naught to gain or lose in the great war, or ather having naught to lose and everything to gain, whichever way these worldly cards might run, he was a fair, impartial witness. As you may well suppose, this news awoke in me the lust of battle, and 1 I must chafe the more for having it. I And while my visitor talked on, and I t was listening with the outward ear, ray brain was busy putting two and two together. How came it that the i British outpost still remained at • Queensborough, with my Lord Rawdon withdrawn and the patriot home guard t well down upon its rear? Some urgent > reason for the stay there must be; and 1 at that I remembered what Darius had 1 toldi me of its captain waiting for some , messenger from the south. ■ | I scored this matter with a question . i siark. Dulling it aside to think on more when I should be alone. And when the priest had told me all the news at large, we came again to speak of Mar gery. "1 go and come through all this bor derland." he said, when I asked him how and why he came to Appleby Hun dred, "but It was mam’selle’s message brought me here. She is my ewe lamb in all this region, and I would journey far to see her.” I wondered pointedly at this, for in that day the west was fiercely Protest ant and the mother church had scanty footing in the borderland. "But Mistress Margery Is not a Cath olic!" said I. His look forgave the protest In the words. "Indeed she is. my son. Has she not told you?” Now truly she had not told me so in any measured word or phrase; and yet I might have guessed it, since she had often spoken lovingly of this same Fa ther Matthieu. And yet It was incred ible to me. “But how—I do not understand how that can be," I stammered. "Surely, she told me she was of Huguenot blood on the mother's side, and that is—” The missionary’s smile was lenient still, but full of meaning. "Not all who wander from the Cath olic fold are lost forever. Captain Ire ton. The mother of this demoiselle lived all her life a Protestant, I think, but when she came to die she sent for me. And that is how her child was sent to France and grew up convent bred. Monsieur Stair gave his promise at the mother's deathbed, and though he liked it‘not, he kept It.” “Aha, I see. And for this single lamb of your scant fold you brave the terrors of our heretic backwoods? It does you credit, Father Matthieu. The war fills all horizons now, mayhap, but I have seen the time in Mecklenburg when your cassock would have been a chal lenge to the mob." His smile was quite devoid of bitter ness. "The time has not yet passed," he said, gently. "I have been six weeks on the way from Maryland hither, hid ing in the forest by day and faring on at night. Indeed. I was in hiding oni a neighboring plantation when our| demoiselle’s messenger found me.” I This put me keen upon remembering, what had gone before; how he had said at first that she had sent for him. I thought it strange, knowing how peril-’ uuri me lime nun jnuee in u ji i/c iwi such as he. But not until he rose and,! bidding me good-day, left me to my self, did I so much as guess the thing] his coming meant. When I had guessed it; when I put this to that—her telling] me Sir P’rancis had proposed for her,' and this her sending for the priest—j the madness of my love for her was as naught compared to that anger whichi seized and racked me. I know not how the hours of this, black day were made to come and go,' grinding me to dust and ashes in Iheir. passage, yet leaving me alive and keenl to suffer at the end. . ; A thousand times that day I lived in! torment through the scene in which' | the priest had doubtless come to play! ] his part of joiner. The stage for it; would be the great room fronting! south; the room my father used to, call our castle. P’or guests I thought; there would be space enough and some| to spare, for, as you know, our Meek-, lenburg was patriot to the core. But i as to this, the bridegroom's troopers) might till out the tale, and in my heat ed fancy I could see them grouped be-] [ neath the candle-sconces with belts' j and baldrics fresh pipe-clayed, andt shakos doffed, and sabretaches well in front. "A man full grown—a soldier,”! i she had said; and trooper guests were) fitting in such case. From serving in a Catholic land Ij knew the customs of the mother| church. So I could see the priest ini cassock, alb and stole as he would' stand before some makeshift altar lit! with candles. And us he stands,they' come to kneel before him; my winsome! Margery in all her royal beauty, a child! to love, and yet an empress peerless in! her woman’s realm; and at her side,I with his knee touching hers, this man! who was a devil! What wonder it I cursed and choked) and cursed again when the maddening} thought of what all this should meant for my poor wounded Richard—and la-1 ter on. tor Margery herself—possessed) me? In which of these hot fever-gusts' of rage the thought of interference came, I know not. But that it came a4 length—a thought and plan full-growil at birth—I do know. ! The pointing of the plan was desper-J ate and simple. It was neither more! nor less than this; I knew the house] and every turn and passage in it, and. when the hour should strike 1 said) I should go down and skulk] among the guests, and at the cru-l cial moment find or seize a weapon and' fling myself upon this bridegroom as' he should kneel before the altar. With strength to bend him back and] strike one blow, I saw not why it might’ not win. And as for strength, I have* learned this in war; that so the ragei be hot enough, ’twill nerve a dying man, to hack and hew and stab as with tho strength of ten. (Continued Next Week.) LIFE A LOTTERY. Chanco of Being Born With Health and Good Temper. Mexican Herald: A far northern con temporary objects to the phrase, "Life Isi a lottery,” and goes on to repeat the time worn platitudes, that "Life Is an oppor tunity," a "struggle,” etc. But life may* be both an opportunity and a battle, and yet have some of the features of a lottery. In the first place, men and women are not responsible for their temperament which makes or mars fortunes, and ren ders life happy or the reverse. We think as our temperament inclines us, and her^ does fate lay a heavy hand upon us at : the very outset of existence. Then theta is the bare chance of being born Into a) well-to-do family with civilized instincts ■ and so having the benefit of solicitous care : bestowed on one’s health and education. | The child born into a cross-grained, un happy. perhaps struggling family is sur* rounded by unfortunate influences. ‘ There Is the lottery chance of drawing a health prize. To be born with a strong I constitution in addition to a genial and i care-free temperament is an immense ad vantage. To be born nervous, rickety, | subject to fits of depression from child hood is nothing less than a calamity. Many a man wtio has won fame, though j handicapped by an irritable disposition, lias confessed how hard was his struggle. | To make enemies more easily than friends is the lot of many men and women. No human being can select his time for entering tho world; he may arrive just i when the "lean years” begin, when par ents arc forced to deny themselves and their children not merely luxuries, but | comforts. The child born of a care-worn i or anxious mother Is marked for moodl | ness during life. The child whose mother i is a superstitious, timorous person is ! handicapped in a world where courage ; and cheerfulness are the great success ] compelling qualities. All through life the lottery feature of j human conditions is made manifest. Luck i ; may easily go past the careful, honest and i industrious and throw its prize Into the laps of fools. Life is very much a lot ' tery. ! New York city consumes 2,000,000 bar- , ; reis of potatoes a year. POINTERS FOR FARMERS. From the Farmer and Breeder. Tobacco water will destroy bugs and I worms on rose bushes. Keep the ground which the crops oc cupy free from weeds and soft and mellow. It always pays to make every addi tion to the manure heap possible. Loose hair in the mane and tail of a horse usually denotes bad blood. A noisy and slow milker will soon ruin the most gentle of cows. A slow, sluggish horse is a nuisance everywhere except at heavy dray work. While salt is beneficial to trees it must be used in limited quantities or it may kill them. Do not be too cautious about thinning out the plants as the remainder will only grow the larger. The best stock for any farmer to keep is the kind best adapted to his farm and his markets. The dairy cow should be well suited to her business in life and not be a mere stock or beef animal. Feed will obviate many difficulties in breeding and building up any ahimal, and sheep are no exception. The future horse depends a good deal on the treatment the young colt re ceives the first summer of its exist ence. The feeding of farm animals is often attended by loss just because the feed is not suitable or not properly pre pared. In fattening animals, seeing to their health and comfort is just as import ant as giving them an abundance of nourishing food. In selecting a horse for any purpose other than draft a very wide breast should be avoided for in most cases a horse with this formation paddles when he trots. The churn should never be filled more than half full and then if the temper ature is just right it will churn easily. The young fruit trees will send up many shoots which will need trim ming off and this should be done as soon as they make their appearance. It is important to milk clean from the first as the retention of milk in the udder injures it and tends to decrease the yield. Sheep bear a strong relationship to mixed husbandry, especially where high farming is followed and any attempt to separate the two will prove dtstastrous. As it is the nervous system which di gests the food it is not best to give a horse anything to eat that is hard to digest w'hen he is tired and weary. One of the chief lacks in stone fruits is potash in the soil. This is especially true of peaches which are supposed to do better on sandy soils where potash is usually deficient. Liberal dressing with wood ashes will be found bene ficial. rune is always lost anu tuuui speni, at least partially in vain, whenever the crops are not cultivated sufficiently to ( insure their highest yield and when ever any piece of work is done in such . a manner as to necessitate its being done over again in a short time. To make the best mutton the animal should be made to grow rapidly and to mature as young as possible and be- : yond everything else, always be kept in prime condition. The last is im- j portant in making tender, juicy mutton ! as the tendency to poverty in an ani mal is to make the meat hard and dry. ATTEND the big breeders’ Hereford and Shorthorn auction, Sioux City, Thursday, May 4th. -- Don Carlos as a Revolutionist. Vance Thompson In Success: Don Carlos has his palace on the grand canal In Venice. You may see him, any day, driving at full speed In his electric launch through the silent wa terways. As the yellow, whizzing launch appears the black gondolas scatter hke waterflies. In foam and noise It passes, Don Carlos lolling on the red cushions, his handsome, dis satisfied wife beside him. Manned by flunkies in the red and yellow livery of Spain, it passes—a thing of noise and pomp and color, which has no business there, drumming up the quiet waters of the canals. Don Carlos is a big man physically, his body is vast —high and wide and profound: he is rosy, blond, bearded, with bulging eyes; so far as the look of him goes, he might sit on any throne with credit —this last of the kings in exile of the male branch of the Bourbons of Spain. But he will never reign. This, perhaps, may be in store for Don Jaime, his son, who is with the Russian cavalry in the far east. This pretender has found a more profitable occupation. Oh, men have died for him, truly enough! Still In Biscay women pray f.arkly for the day when he shall come to his own. Round about Bilbao, good men—furious little royalists—go to jail for him joyous martyrs. Bankers, so far away as Frankfort, gamble money on Ills chance of reigning. Don Carlos smiles skeptically in his blond beard. He has long been one of the lackeys of the court of Alphone XIII., that, but nothing more. Whenever the ministry, or whenever the king, has need of a small revolt, which may be promptly repressed, and add thus to government prestige, the word is passed to the big pretender In Venlee. Forthwith scores of frantic little Carllsts go out to be shot or jailed for him. It Is. I be lieve, a new industry. In time the pre tended pretender may become a use ful adjunct to every throne, just as the circus carries Its pseudo “Rube” and the bad gambler his innocent looking "capper.” Lord Dufferin’s Gallantry. Harper's Weekly: "T. P.” recalls the following entertaining anecdote of Lord Dufferin. in Illustration of his ready wit: Lord Dufferin was describing to Queen Victoria the extraordinary feat of a man who, he said, had leaped twenty-one feet. Nobody believed the story. "But,” said Lord Dufferin. “I myself have leaped fifteen feet.” “That is as far as the end of the table is from Miss-observed the prince consort, referring to an attractive young girl on Dufferin s right. "If, sir,” responded Dufferin, ".Miss -were on the other side. 1 could leap t. foot farther.” Depressing. Washington Star: "It is pretty hard,” said the czar, suddenly arousing him self from a brown study. "What does your majesty mean?” asked the courtier. "It's pretty hard to think of suing for peace when you feel as if you ought to be suing for damages.” His Work. Public Ledger: "Young man," said :%e old merchant, sternly, 'I caught I you kissing the typewriter when I re- | turned to the office this morning. What i have you to say, sir?” "Why,” said the blight clerk, “you I told me to attend to all your duties In I your absence.” The Tragedies of the Stage. Detroit Free Press: Old Friend—Is your part very difficult to play? Barnstormer—Well, rather! I'm liv ing on one meal a day and playing the role of a man with the gout. Mrs. Pinkham claims that there is a kind of dyspepsia that is caused by a derangement of the female organism, and which, while it causes a disturb ance similar to ordinary indigestion, cannot be relieved without a medicine which not only acts as a stomach tonic, but has peculiar uterine-tonic effects also. As proof of this theory we call at tention to the case of Mrs. Maggie Wright, Brooklyn, N. Y., who was completely cured by Lydia E. Pink ham's Vegetable Compound after every thing else had failed. She writes: “ For two year* I suffered with dyspepsia which so degenerated my entire system that I was unable to attend to my daily duties. [ felt weak and nervous, and nothiiig that I ate tasted good and it caused a disturbance in my stomach. X tried different dyspepsia cures, but nothing seemed to help me. I was ad vised to give Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound a tnal, and was happily surprised to find that it acted like a fine tonic, and in a few days I began,to enjoy and properly digest my food. My recovery was rapid, and in five weeks I was a well woman. I have rec ommended it to many suffering women.” No other medicine in the world has received such widespread and unquali fied endorsement,or has such a record of Cures of female troubles, as has Lydir E. i-’inkham’s Vegetable Compound. THE NEXT MORNING I FEEL BRIGHT AND NEW AND MY COMPLEXION IS BETTER. My doctor saya it acts gently on the atomach, liv^r and kidneys and is a pleasant, laxative. This drink i* made from herbs, ana is prepared for uso as easily as tea. It is called ‘'Lane’ll Tea” or LANE’S FAMILY MEDICINE All druggists or by mail 25 cts. snd fiOcts. Buy it to day. l ane’s Family Medicine moves Ilia bowel* each day. In Older to be healthy this is necessary. Address, O. V. Woodward. Le Roy, N.Y. Alabastine Your Walls Typhoid Fever, Diphtheria, Small I Pox—the germs of these deadly diseases multiply in the decaying glue present in all kalsomines, ! and the decaying paste under wall paper. . ALABASTINE is a disinfectant; It de stroys disease germs and vermin; Is man ufactured from a stoue cement base, hardens on the walls, and Is as enduring as the wall Itself. ALABASTINE is mixed with cold water, and any one can apply It. , Ask for sample card of beautiful tints and information about deco rating. Take no cheap substitute. Buy only .1 pound packages properly labeled. ALABASTINE COMPANY Grand Ave., Grand Rapids, Mich. ■*™***"Ncw York Citymmmm “All Signs Fail in a Dry Time” THE SIGN OF THE FISH NEVER FAILS IN A WET TIME In ordering Torrer's Slickers, i a customer writes: “I know 5 they will be all right if they have the ‘FISH* on them.” This confidence is the out t growth of sixty-nine years of careful manufacturing. Highest Award World’s Fair. IDOL A. J. TOWER CO. Tha3im<=m«ruh Boston, U.S. A. ^pWERls Tower Canadian Co. Limited ' - Toronto, Canada f'SR BRW’4' Makers of Warranted Wet Weather Clothing 357 _ Contact with Living People. Janies Russell Lowell: Books are, at best, but dry fodder; we need to be vitalized by contact with living peo ple. No Middle Partings. Pittsburg Dispatch: At the meeting of the Pittsburg presbytery of the Cumberland Presbyterian church at Donora today the Rev. W. S. Danley proposed this resolution: "Whereas, sissified asses are no longer to be tolerated in the ministry, "Resolved, That their admission be discouraged; that the ministers be in structed to no longer part their hair lit the middle." "This Is a gross case," said a Man chester magistrate to a prisoner, who was making his 141th appearance be fore him for drunkenness.