CHICAGO MERCHANT
MAKES STATEMENT.
After Spending Thousands of Dollars
and Consulting the Most Eminent
Physicians, He Was Desperate.
CHICAGO, ILLS.—Mr. J. Q.
Becker, of 134 Van Buren St., a
well-known wholesale dry goods
dealer, states as follows:
"I have had catarrh for more
than thirty years. Have tried
everything on earth and spent
thousands of dollars for other
Medicines and with physicians,
without getting any lasting re
lief, and can say to you that I
have found Peruna the only rem
edy that has cured me per
manently.
"Peruna has also cured my
wife of catarrh. She always keepl
It In the house for an attack ol
cold, which it invariably cures in
■ very short time.”
Sloan’s Liniment is the best
remedy for sprains and bruises.
It quiets the pain at once, and
can be applied to the tenderest
part without hurting because it
doesn’t need to be rubbed — all
you have to do is to lay it on
lightly. It is a powerful prepa
ration and penetrates instantly —
relieves any inflammation and con
gestion, and reduces the swelling.
Here’s the Proof.
Mr. L. Roland, Bishop of Scran
ton, Pa. says:—"On the 7th of
this present month, as I was leaving
the building at noon for lunch, I
(lipped and fell, spraining my wrist.
1 returned in the afternoon, and at
four o’clock I could not hold a pen
cil in my hand. I returned home
later and purchased a bottle of
Sloan's
Liniment
and used it five or six times before
I went to bed, and the next day I
was able to go to work and use my
hand as nsual.”
Sloan’s Liniment
is an excellent anti
septic and germ
killer— heals cuts,
burns, wounds and
contusions, and will
draw the poison
from sting of poi
sonous insects.
26o.,60c. and $1.00
Nloan’i book on
hor««i, entile, ah*ep
and poultry teal
IVee. Address
Dr. Earl S. Sloan,
Boston, Mass., TJ.8A
Excellent Reason.
From London Sketch.
'“Ol’ll work no more for that man
Dolan.”
"An' why?"
"Shure, and 'tls on account av a re
mark hr made.”
. "An' phwat was that?” 1
"Says tie, 'Casey,’ says lie, ‘ye're dis
charged.’ "
Bad Doble,
The greatest of all horsemen, says:
"In my 40 years' experience with
horses 1 have found Spohn's Distem
per Cure the most successful of all
remedies for the horses. It Is the
greatest blood purifier." Bottle, 50c
and $1 00. Druggists can supply you,
or manufacturers. Agents wanted.
Send for Free Book. Spohn Medical
Co.. Spec. Contagious Diseases,
Goshen, Ind.
The Last Straw.
From Judge.
An attendant at n Kansas Institute
tor tile deaf and dumb was undergoing
li pointless rapidflre Inquisition ut the
hands of a female visitor.
"But how do you summon these poor
mutes to church?" she asked finally,
with what was meant to be a pitying
glance at the inmates near by.
"By ringing the dumbbells, madam,"
retorted the exasperated attendant.
Constipation causes and aggravates
many serious diseases. It Is thoroughly
cured by Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets
The favorite family laxative.
A man is never actually happy in tIre
presence of misery, but most men can
make a noise like it.
Men arc measured by what they don't
say even more than by what they do
sa y.
WHEN YOU'RE AS HOARSE »*M-rotv. When
rou’re coughing and sniping. When you've tin oUi
Inahtoited deep-seated cold, take Align'* Lung Hnl
atm. bold by al 1 druggists, 26c, 60c and fl 00 bottle*.
A balky horse Is the product of per
nicious association with a man who
does not possess "horse sense."
Too mu< h time Is spent In wishing
that one could start over again, and
too little *n keeping the start one has.
A NOTRE DAME LADY’S APPEAL.
To all knowing sufferers of rheumatism
whether muscular or of the Joints, sciat
ica, lumbagos. backache, pains In Ihe kid
neys or neuralgia pains, to write to iter
for a borne treatment which lias repeat
edly cured all of these tortures. She feels
it bet duty to send it to all sufferers
FKKK You cute yourself at home as
thousands will testify—no change of cli
mate being necessary. This shtipio discov
ery banishes uric acid from the blood,
loosens the stiffened Joints, purifies the
blood, and brightens the eyes, giving elas
ticity and tone to the whole system. If
the above interests you. for proof address
Mr*. M Bummers, Box 1, Notre Dame.
li»d. , .
:^JHE WILD GEESE
Stanley J.Weuman.
^ —
(Copyright, 1909, by Stanley J. Weyrnan.)
CHAPTER XXII.—(Continued.)
The girl recoiled, outraged and angry.
But, knowing her brother was at hand,
and seeing In a flash what might hap
pen In the event of a collision, she did
so in silence, hoping to escape before
he came upon them. Unfortunately
Payton misread her silence and took
her movements for a show of feigned
modesty. With a movement as quick
as hers, he grasped her roughly,
dragged her toward him and kissed
her.
She screamed then In sheer rage—
screamed with such passion that Pay
ton let her go and stepped back with
an oath. As he did so he turned, and
the turn brought him face to face with
James McMurrough.
The young man, tipsy and smarting
with his wrongs, saw what was before
his eyes—his sister in Payton’s arms—
but he saw something more. He saw
the man who had thwarted him that
day, and whom he had not at the time
dared to beard! What he might have
done had he been sober matters not.
Drink and vindictiveness gave him
more than the courage he needed, and,
with a roar of anger, he dashed the
glass he was carrying—and its con
tents—into Payton’s face.
The Englishman dropped whore he
was, and James stood over him, swear
ing, while the grease guttered from
the tilted candle in his right hand.
Flavia gasped, and, horror struck,
clutched James’ arm as he lifted the
candlestick and made as if he would
beat In the man's brains.
Fortunately a stronger hand .than
hers interfered. Asgill dragged the
young man back. "Haven’t you done
enough?” he cried. “Would you murder
him.”
"Ah, didn’t you see, curse you, he”
‘T know, I know!" Asgill answered,
hoarsely. "But not now! Not now! Let
him rise if he can! Let him rise, I say!
Payton!"
The moment James stood back the
fallen man staggered to his feet, ami
though the blood was streaming down
his face from a cut on the cheekbone,
he showed that he was less hurt than
startled. "You'll give me satisfaction
for thus!” he muttered. "You’ll give
me satisfaction for this,” lie repeated,
between his teeth.
"Alt, by heaven, I will!" James Mc
Murrough answered furiously. "And
kill you, too!"
“At 8 tomorrow! Do you hear? At
3 tomorrow! Not an hour later!"
-I ~~'
through the long, restless, torturing
hours.
James tried to utter the oath that,
deceiving her, might rid him of her
presence. But his nerves, shaken by his
overnight drink, could not command his
voice even for that. His eyes dropped
In shame: the muttered, "What the
plague will you be wanting at this
hour?” was no more than a querulous
whisper.”
"I couldn't sleep,” she said, avoiding
his eyes.
"I, no more,” he muttered. “Curse
him! Curse, you. too! Why were you
getting in his way? You've as good
as murdered me with your tricks and
your poses!”
“Heaven forbid!" she exclaimed.
“Ah, you have," he anwered, rocking
himself to and fro in ids excitement.
“If it were any one else, I’m as ready
to fight as another. But he's killed
four men, and he'd kill me. Oh, if I'd
not come up at that minute. If I'd not
come up at that minute.”
The picture of what he would have
escaped had he mounted the stairs a
minute later was too much for him.
Not a thought did he give to what
might have happened to her had lie
came on the scene later; but, with all
Ills cowardly soul laid bare, he rocked
himself to and fro in a paroxysm of
self-pity.
Yet he did not suffer more sorely un
der tiie lash of ills own terrors than
Flavia suffered—seeing him thus, the
braggadocio stripped from him, and the
poor, cringing creature displayed. If
she had thought too much of her de
scent—and the more in proportion as
fortune had straightened the line, and
only in this corner of a downtrodden
land was Its greatness even a memory :
—she was chastened for it now. She
could have wept tears of shame. And
yet, so plain was the collapse of the
man before her that she did not think
of reproach, even had she found heart
to chide him, knowing that her words
might send him to his death.
All her thought was, could she hide
the blot? Could she, at any rate, so
veil It that the Insolent Englishman,
tills bully of the conquering race, might
not perceive it? That were worth so
much that her own life seemed a small
price to pay for it.
But alas! she could not purchase it
with her life. Only in fairy tales can
the woman pass for the man and Doris
receive in her tender bosom the thrust
Intended for the sterner breast. Then
could they shun at least open disgrace
—open dishonor? For it needed but a
glance at her brother's pallid face to
“It's you that struck him after he was disarmed,” cried Morty.
“I’ll not keep you waiting," James
■etorted.
Flavia leaned almost fainting against
ler door. She tried to speak,' but her
mice failed her.
And Payton's livid, scowling, bleed
ng face was hate itself "Behind the
tows In the garden?" he said, disre
garding her presence.
"Ah, 1 11 meet you there?" The Mc
Rurrough answered, pot-valiant. “And,
nore by token, order your coffin, for
tou’ll need it!" Drink and rage left
to place In his brain for fear.
"That will be seen—tomorrow," the
Englishman answered, In a tone that
■hilled the girl’s marrow. Then, with
lls kerchief pressed to his cheek to
Ranch the blood, he retreated to his
mom and slammed the door. They
learil him turn the key In It.
Flavia found her voice. She looked
it her brother. "Ah, heavens!" she
.’Tied. “Why did I open my door?”
James, still pot-valiant, returned her
look. "Because you were a fool," he
mid. "But I’ll spit him, never fear!
Faith, and 111 spit him like a fowl!”
In his turn he went on unsteadily to
his room, disappeared within It, and
closed the door.
Flavia and Asgill remained together.
Her eyes met his. "Ah, why did I open
my door?" she cried. "Why did I?"
He had no comfort for her. He shook
his head, but did not speak.
"He will kill him!” she said.
Asgill reflected In a heavy silence. "I
will think what can be done," he mut
tered at last. "Do you go to bed."
"To bed?” she cried.
"There Is naught to be done tonight,"
he answered, in a low tone. "If the
troopers were not with him—but that is
useless. And—his door Is locked. Do
you go to bed, and I will think what
we can do."
"To save James?” She laid her hand
on Asgill's arm. and he quivered. "Ah.
you will save him!" She had forgotten
her brother's treatment of her earlier
In the day.
"If I can," he said slowly. His face
was damp and very pale. "If I can," he
repeated. “Put it will not be easy to
save him honorably."
CHAPTER XXIII.
BEHIND THE YEWS.
The passages were still gray and chill
when one of the bedchamber doors
opened and a face peeped out. The face
was Flavia's Presently the girl stepped
forward—paused, scared by a board
that creaked under her naked foot—
then went on again. She reached one
of the doors, : nd scratched on it with
her nail.
No one answered the summons and
she pushed the door open and went In.
As she had feared, enlightened by As
glll's hint, she found James was awake
and sitting up in his bed, his arms
clasped about his knees. His eyes met
hers as she entered, and In his eyes,
and in his form, huddled together as In
sheer physical pain, she read beyond all
doubt fear. Why she had felt certain,
courageous herself, that this was what
she would ftnd she did not know. But
there It was, as she had foreseen It,
assure her that, brought to the field, he I
would prove unequal to the task of
cloaking his fears.
She sickened at the thought, and her !
eyes grew hard. Was this the man in
whom she had believed? And when he
turned on his side and hid his face in
the pillow and groaned she had small
pitto spare for him.
“Can't you be seeing?" he answered I
fractiously; but for very shame he
could not face her eyes. "Cannot you
be seeing I am not fit to get up? See
how my hand shakes!"
“What is to be done, then?”
He cursed Payton thrice in a frenzy
of rage. He beat the pillow with his
fist.
"That does no good,” she said.
"I believe you want to kill me!" he
complained with childish passion. “I
believe you want to see me dead! Why
can't you be managing your own
affairs, without — without, heavens!”
And then, in a dreadful voice, "I shall
be dead tonight! And you care noth- |
ing!"
He hid unmanly tears on his pillow,
while she looked at the wall, pale to
the lips. Her worst misgivings had
not pictured a thing so mean as this,
a spirit so poor. And this was her
brother, her idol, he to whom she had |
fondly looked to revive the glories of
the race. Truly she had been blind.
She had spoken to Luke Asgill the
night before, and he would help her.
she believed. But for that she would
have turned, us her thoughts did turn,
to Colonel John. But he lay prostrate,
and the O’Belrnes were out of the
question; she could not tell them.
Youth has no pity, makes no allowance, !
expects the utmost, and a, hundred
times they had heard James "brag and
brawl. And Ulcle Ulick was away. i
There remained only Luke Asgill.
"If you are not well,” she said, in the
same hard voice, "shall I be telling Mr.
Asgill? He may contrive something.”
The man sweating on the bed leaped
at the hope, as he would have leaped ■
at any hope. Nor was he so upset by I
fear as not to reflect that, whatever j
Flavla asked Asgill would do. "Ah, |
tell him,” he cried, raising himself on j
his elbow. "Do you be telling him!
He can make him—wait, may be.”
At that moment she came nearly
hating her brother. "I will send him
to you," she said.
"No!" he cried anxiously. “No! Do
you be telling him! Do you hear? I
am not so well to see him."
She shivered seeing plainly the u'n
mlxed selfishness of the course he
urged. But she had not the heart to
answer him. She went from the room
and going back to her own chamber,
she dressed. By this time the house
was astir, the June sunshine was pour
ing with the songs of birds through
the windows. She heard one of the
O'Beirnes stumble downstairs. Next
Asgill opened his door and passed
down. In a twinkling she followed ,
him, making a sign to him to go on,
and led him Into the open air. Nor
when they were outside did she speak
until she had put the courtyard be
tween herself and the house.
For she would have hidden their
shame from all If she could! Even to
say what she had to say cost her In
humiliation more than her brother had
paid for aught in his selfish life. But
it had to be said, and after a pause,
and with eyes averted, "My brother is
ill,” she faltered. "He cannot meet
—that man this morning. It is—as
you feared. And—what can we do?”
In another case Luke Asgill would
have blessed the chance that linked
him with her, cast her on his help.
He had guessed, before she opened her
mouth, what she had to say—nay, for
hours he had lain sleepless on his bed,
anticipating it. He had been certain
of the Issue—he knew James McMur
rough; and, being a man who loved
Flavia indeed, but loved iife also, he
had foreseen, with the cold sweat on
his brow, what he would be driven to
do.
He made no haste to answer, there
fore. and his tone, when he did answer,
was dull and lifeless. "Is it ill he is?”
lie asked. "It's a bad morning to be
ill and a meeting on hand."
She did not answer.
"Is he too bad to stand?” he con
tinued. He made no attempt to hide
his comprehension or his scorn.
"I don’t say that,” she faltered.
"Perhaps he told you,” Asgill said—
and there was nothing of the lover in
his tone—“to speak to me?”
She nodded.
"It is I am to—put It off, I suppose?"
pose ?”
"If it be possible,” she cried. “Oh, if
it be possible! Is it?"
He stood, thinking, with a gloomy
face. From the first he had seen that
there were two ways out of extricating
The McMurrough. The one by a mild
explanation, which would leave his
honor in the mud. The other by an ex
planation after a different fashion, with
the word "liar” ready to answer to
the word "coward." But he who gave
this last explanation must be willing
to back Die word with the deed, and
stop cavilling with the sword point.
Now, Asgill knew the Major’s skill
with the sword; none better. And un
der other circumstances, the justice
cold, selfish, scheming—would have
gone many a mile about before he en
tered upon a quarrel with him. None
the less, love had drawn him to con
template this very thing. For surely
if he did tlds and lived, Flavia would
smile on him. .Surely, if he saved her
brother’s honor, she would be won. It
was a forlorn, It was a desperate expe
dient. For no other advantage would
Luke Asgill have faced the Major's
sword point. But, whatever he was, he
loved. He loved! And for the face and
form beside him, and for the quality of
soul that shone from the girl's eyes,
and made her what she was, and to him
different from all other women, he had
made up his mind to run the risk.
It went for something that he be
lived that Flavia, if he failed her, would
go to Colonel Sullivan. If she did that, I
Asgill was sure that his own chance <
was at an end. This was his chance, i
It lay with him now, today, at this mo- !
ment—to dare or to retire, to win her ’
favor at the risk of his life, or to yield c
her to another. In the chill morning :
hour he had discovered that he must i
risk all or lose all; and he had decided.
"I will make it possible,” he said,
slowly, questioning in his mind whether
he dared make terms with her. "I will
make it possible,” he repeated, still j
more slowly, and with his eyes fixed on ■
her face.
“If you could!” she cried, clasping :
her hands.
"I will!" he said, a sullen undertone
in his voice. His eyes still dwelt darkly j
on her. "If he raises an objection, I i
will fight him—myself!” ,
She shrank from him. “Ah, but I i
can’t ask that!” she cried, trembling. ;
"It is that or nothing.”
"That or”
“There is no other way,” he said. ,
He spoke with the same ungracious- ]
ness; for, try as he would, and though
the habit and the education of a life
cried to him to treat with her and
make conditions, he could not; and he
was enraged that he could not.
The more as her wet eyes, her quick, ,
mounting color, told of her gratitude. ,
In another moment she might have said ,
a word fit to unlock his lips. And he
would have spoken; and she would ,
have pledged herself. But Fate, in the ■
person of old Darby, intervened. Time- ,
ly or untimely, the butler appeared in ,
the distant doorway, cried "Hist!” and, j
by a backward gesture warned them .
of some approaching peril. .
"I fear”-- she began.
"Yes, go!” Asgill replied, almost ,
roughly. “He is coming, and he must (
not find us together.”
The garden gate had barely closed
on her skirts before Payton Issued '
from the courtyard. The Englishman
paused an instant in the gateway, his j
sword under his arm and a handker
chief in his hand. Thence he looked ]
up and down the road with an air of
confidence that provoked Asgill beyond
measure. The sun did not seem bright ,
enough for him, nor the air scented to
his liking. Hastily he approached the
Irishman, who, affecting to be engaged
with his own thoughts, had kept his
distance.
"Is he ready?” he asked, with a sneer. I
With an effort Asgill controlled him
self. “He is not," he said.
“At his prayers, is he? Well, he’ll
need thim."
"He is not, to my knowledge,” Asgill
replied. "But he is Hi.”
"Payton’s face lightened with a Joy 1
not pleasant to see. "A coward!” he
said coolly. ”1 am not surprised. Ill, ’
is he? Ay, I know that illness. It’s not
the first time I’ve met it!"
(Continued Next Week.)
Stick to the Farm.
"Stick he farm," says the President
To t..e wl.le-eyed farmer boy.
Then he hies him back to his White 1
House home.
With its air of rustic joy. 1
"Stick to the farm,” says the railroad '
king
To the lad who looks afar,
Then hikes him back on the double-quick 1
To his rustic private car.
“Stick to the farm,” says the clergyman
To the youth on the worm fence perch, -
Then lays hts ear to the ground to hear
A call to a city church,
“Stick to the farm,” says the dostor wise
To those who would break the rut.
Then hies him where the appendix grows
In bountiful crops to cut.
—New York Sun.
The Wisdom of Youth.
From the National Monthly. ,
They were expecting an addition to
the family and the daughter aged 10.
was sent to the country to stay with
relatives. Johnny, aged 9, remained at i
home.
When the new arrival had made its
appearance Johnny's father wrote a
long telegram to his little daughter in
the country, announcing that on her re
turn home she would find a new broth
er awaiting her.
The family gave Johnny J1 to go out
and send the telegram. When Johnny
returned he handed his father 60 cents
change,
"How Is this?” asked the father.
"Your telegram was too long father
and I cut it down and saved your mon
ey,” said Johnny .
"What did you say In the telegram?’
the father asked.
Johnny handed him a copy of the
telegram. It read:
"Susie Smith. Blngville, Ohio:
"Dear Sister—I win. It's a boy.
"Johnny."
ELEMENTS WILL MIX '
IT BAD DURING 1910
Rev. Irl R. Hicks Takes Gloomy
Look Into the Year, Predict
ing Many Bad Storms.
DES MOINES THE CENTER
Says a Twister That Will Out-Twisf
Anything That Ever Happened
Will Strike Capital—Planets
Will War.
From the Sioux City Tribune.
Iowa is to experience one of the
worst storms in its history during the
coming year, according to the almanac
af Rev. Irl R. Hicks, of St. Louis,
copies of which have Just reached
Sioux City, j^s a long range weather
forecaster, Rev. Mr. Hicks stands un
?qualed. While the reverend gentle
nan is considered a Joke by scientists
ind government weather men, each
rear he Issues his weather prognosti
cations, unconcerned at the scoffers and
inbelievers of his theories.
Rev. Mr. Hicks is regarded as a pes
simist, but this year his forecast is In
leed gloomy and foreboding. He says
hat between the dates of January 27
md October 29 Des Moines will bo
rislted by a cyclone that will put all
'ormer wind storms in the shade. Al
hough a definite date is not deslg
mted, the St. Louis prophet declares
hat In the Interval mentioned Iowa
.vill be a seething, whirling storm cen
:er.
Starts in February.
The storm will begin in February,
when a raging blizard is due to sweep
icross the state. It is called a "crisis
o a reactionary period,” and Hicks
idds:
"Without the slightest pretense of
:laim to prophetic knowledge, we again
leclare that 1910 ‘will have its victims
>f storm weather.’ With equal truth
md emphasis we may also repeat that
all years have them.’ And Just as
ruthfully may we affirm that almost
.00 per cent of loss and suffering and
leath will occur within the limitations
>f periodic times, defined and charted
n this almanac ns storm and danger
jerlods. We could not afford to put
his declaration on this page, if we
vere not gladly willing for thousands
o say whether the history of our work
or 40 years Justifies it.”
This same storm will cause trouble
n all parts of the globe in the opinion
>f Rev. Mr. Hicks. Cyclones and tor
ladoes will be In order everywhere, and
le says the loss of life will be great,
rhe month of April will furnish inter
■stlng news for the papers, storms vis
ting cities and causing wholesale de
duction.
Planets Will Mix It.
Following these disturbances floods
vill be in order, and the planets Venus,
Darth and Mercury will engage in a
riangular fight, causing storm ructions
hat will bear watching.
Fourth of July will furnish its own
ireworks, according to Rev. Mr. Hicks.
Jue to the little scrifnmage of the
>lanets, there will be severe thunder
itorms during th ■ first three days of
he month, culminating with a dazzling
■lectrlcal storm on the night of the
hird, followed by a chilly spell on the
ourth.
Fall a Bad One.
In the fall of the year will come
itorms which will do millions of dol
ars worth of damages. Concerning
his the prophet says:
’’Within the recollection of this storm
irophet, millions upon millions of dol
ars worth of ships and cargoes have
>een destroyed and hundreds of lives
lave been lost in October storms on
he great northern lakes. There is a ;
endency of fierce northwesterly gales
iver all that region, annually, in Octo
>er and November, but this tendency
s increased when a Venus equinox falls
n these months. The storm diagram
hows a Venus period central on Oeto
>er 13 and extending into November,
rhe Mercury period coming into force ‘
he last week of the month, blending !
vith the Venus period, as already
loted, will breed storm and weather
onditions, especially on and about the
rreat lakes, and perhaps on the north '
Atlantic seas and coasts, that ought to '
>ut shippers and navigators on their 1
ruard. We thus repeat and emphasize
he warning.” '
If 1910 was ushered in with a raging ■
dizzard it will not go out as a lamb,
or it will be very cold and on Christ- !
nas day there will be blowing a regu
ar blizzard.
- l
written for young friends, this poem is,
so far as known, Mr. Gilder’s last piece i
of verse.]
low many bards have sung Love in glad <
valleys
(And chiefly one who lately passed
from earth!)—
Divinely’ congruous, Love with Nature
dallies,
And, under soilless skies, hath happy
birth;
Vhere the green burns to gold, or in deep
woods,
?hrobs love ’twixt man and maid in
thousand moods.
ret, ’gainst whate’er would thwart it,
Love achieves;
It thrives by opposition and delay’; •
t makes its habitation where there
lives
Not one sweet growth to feed it; Love
hath way’
n barren lands, cold winters, stormy
weather,
n happy freedom, or in steely tether.
'he violent town, the harsh world’s
shrieking mart—
Casual, cruel, crowded, ever-shifting—
Cven there hath Love its undestructed
part,
As if. in calm, down lilied waters
drifting;
^nd many a heart, in hidden joy, re
members, .
n roaring streets, its Junes and dear 1
December.
September 15, 1909.
-Richard Watson Gilder in the Century. 1
early. Bridget dear.
Canine Etiquet.
From the Atlantic.
In their relations with one another,
logs have a keen sense of • tiquet. A
veil known traveler makes this unex
)eeted remark about a tribe of naked
flack men, living on one of the South
sea islands.; “In their every day in
ereourse there is much that is stiff,
ormal, and precise.’’ Almost the same
•emark might be made about dogs. Un
ess they are on very intimate terms,
hey take great pains never to brush
igainst or even to touch one another.
For one dog to step over nnother is a !
langerous breach of etiquet unless I
;hey are special friends. It is no un
common thing for two dogs to belong to I
he same person, and live in the same
i»use, and yet never take the slight
est notice of each other. We have a
spaniel so dignified that he will never
yermlt another member of the dog fam
ly to pillow his head upon him; but.
cvlth the egotism of a true aristocrat,
le does not hesitate to make use of the
>ther dogs for that purpose.
There is no editor so sour that h*»
will not take a Joke, but sometime® he
will not give credit for it.
Mnnyon’* Paw Paw pills coax the
liver into activity by gentle methods.
They do not scour, gripe or weaken. They
are a tonic to the stomach, liver ana
nerves; invigorate instead of weaken.
They enrich the blood and enable the
stomach to get all the nourishment from
food that is put into it. These pills con
tain no calomel; they are soothing, heal
ing and stimulating. For sale by all drug
gists in 10c and 25c sizes. If you need
medical advice, write Munyon’s Doctors.
They will advise to the best of their abil
ity absolutely free of Charge. MUN
YON’S, 53d and Jefferson Sts., Phil
adelphia, Pa.
Munyon’s Cold Remedy cures a cold In
one day. Price 25c. Munyon’s Rheuma
tism Remedy rel leves in a few hours an<J
cures in a few days. Price 25c.
PASSING OF THE TRAPPER.
(From St. Louis Post-Dispatch.)
The forward march of civilization
has reached the wilds of the Canadian
north and trappers report that their
nusiness is rapidly becoming unproflt
ible on account of the frequency of the
settlements. That stae of affairs is
:o he expected and the wonder is that
the situation has not become more
icute long ago. It is remarkable that
;he business has continued profitable.
History has repeated itself In this
is in all other things. The advance
;uard of civilization was years behind
l class of hardy trappers who earned
:Heir livelihood in the solitude of the
forests by taking animals for their
furs. As civilization advanced the
number of trappers became larger and
:he amount of game diminished until
:here was no longer a profit to be had
from the business.
It began with Maine and Massachu
jetts and continued to the westward
nntil the United States was no longer
fenable for the trapper. The Hudson
Bay company preserved the frozen
north of Canada for half a century aft
>r the United States had ceased to be
i profitable hunting ground, but the
inward march of the railroads and the
iver restless wave of liomeseekers has
it last advanced to the very outposts
>f the Hudson Bay territory. Gold and
ivheat have been the lodestones and the
rapping business suffers.
Where will we get our furs in the
future? We will raise them. For
farming, skunk farming, cat farming
tnd the hundred and one other kinds
)f animal raising will take the place
>f the trapper and his gun. Other fur
flearing animals will soon be taught to
lat out of the hand of man just as the
lomestic animals of the farm have
been doing for centuries. Man will
limply enlarge his control of the lower
inimels, enlarge his control over the
’ur-bearing as well as the food-bear
ng animals.
Why His Mother Mourned.
From the Indianapolis Star.
William M. Fogarty has a story about
i good old Irish woman whose son was
ibout to start for a trip around the
vorld.
She had watched him prosper with •
bride. To her he was a great man. In
ler fond vision she could see all sorts
if terrible tidings coming to him, but
ihe held her peace until he had started
or the journey. Then she began to
■ry. A neighbor tried to console her,
but to no avail.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t the money to
fet back," said the mother weeping,
de’s got the money to go round the
vorld all right, but how will he ever
tot back?"
The men who strike for their “altars
ind their fires,” generally succeed In
breaking the one and quenching the
ither.
GET POWER.
The Supply Come* from Food.
If we get power from food, why not
strive to get all the power we can?
rhat is only possible by use of skil
'ully selected food that exactly fits the
•equirements of the body.
Poor fuel makes a poor fire and a
poor fire Is not a good steam producer.
.‘•From not knowing how to select
:he right food to fit my needs, I suf
fered grievously for a long time from
itomach troubles,” writes a lady from
i little town in Missouri,
"It seemed as If I would never be
ible to find out the sort of food that
was best for me. Hardly anything that
1 could eat would stay on my stomach.
Every attempt gave me heartburn and
Hied my stomach with gas. I got thin
ner and thinner until I literally be
:ame a living skeleton and in time was
■ompelled to keep to my bed.
“A few months ago I was persuaded
o try Grape-Nuts food, and It had such
?ood effect from the very beginning
;hat I have kept up its use ever since.
[ was surprised at the ease with which
[ digested it. It proved to be just
what I needed.
"All my unpleasant symptoms, the
heartburn, the inflated feeling which
save me so much pain disappeared.
My weight, gradually increased from
98 to 116 pounds, my figure rounded
nut, my strength came back, and I am
now able to do my housework and en
|oy It. Grape-Nuts did it."
A ten days’ trial will show anyone
some facts about food.
Look In pkgs. for the little book,
‘The Road to Wellvllle.” "There’s a
Reason."
Ever read the above letter? A
new one appears from time to time.
They are genuine, true, and full of
human Interest.
