To Get
Its Beneficial Effects
Always Buy the Genuine
SYiarfies
anc)
fidOlH&NNA
manufactured bythe
(jlIWWBflfKiSw$
iSold t$y all leading
Druggists
One5izeOn|y»50t a Bottle
Gentle Hint.
He (after silence)—I’ll soon have
<o go away on a trip to bore wells.
She (tartly)—Well, I’m sure that Is
O big Improvement over boring peo
ple.
Important to Mothers
Examine carefully every bottle of
CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for
Infants and children, and see that It
Signature of
In Use For Over 30 Years,
The Kind You Hare Always Bought
Generous Advice.
“If the Japanese want to fight us,”
said the nervous man, “why don’t they
begin r*
“Perhaps,” replied the calm and col
lected person, "they are waiting for
more tips from our military experts
■on how to proceed.”
8omewhat Satirical.
A whist enthusiast wrote and pub
lished a book on the game and Bent
• copy to a famous player for his
opinion of it. In about a week the
book was returned to him, with the
{blowing letter:
"My Dear Sir.—Your favor of the
10th Instant, accompanied by your
book, was duly received. I have read
It very carefully. It seemH to be a
very good game, but I don’t think It
Is as good a game as whist!”
—
WHICH ACCOUNTS FOR IT.
- A i
“R^KeRLv
Briggs—1 understand that Mr. Blgge,
four wire’s late husband, made every
thing over to her?
ttenpecklett—Yes, and now she’s
(making everything over for me.
COFFEE HEART
Very Plain in Some People.
A great many people go on suffering
from annoying ailments for a long
time before they can get their own
•consent to give up the Indulgence
from which their trouble arises.
A gentleman In Brooklyn describes
Ala experience, as follows:
*3 became satisfied some months
ago that 1 owed the palpitation of tlie
•tear. from which I suffered almost
telly, to the use of coffee, (I had been
a coffee drinker for 30 years) but I
tmmd it very hard to give up the bev
* erage.
“One day I ran across a very sen
sible and straightforward presenta
tion of the claims of Postum, and
was eo impressed thereby that I con
cluded to give It a trial.
“My -siperlenc* with It was ur)sat
isfactory till I learned how It ought
<0 be prepared—by thorough boiling
tor not less than 15 or 20 minutes.
.After I learned that lesson there was
«o trouble.
“Postum proved to he a most palat
able and satisfactory hot beverage,
and ( have used It ever since.
"The effect on my health has been
meet salutary. The heart palpitation
from which I used to suffer so much,
'.particularly after breakfast, has dis
appeared and I never have a return of
It except when I dine or iunch away
from home and drink the old kind of
coffee because Postum is not served.
I find that Postum cheers and Invig
orates while it produces no harmful
sumul&tlon.” Name given by Postum
Co., Battle Creek, Mich.
Ten days’ trial proves an eye opener
to many.
Read the little book, "The Road to
Wellville,” in pkgs. "There's a Rea
aou."
K(tr v«ftd the above letter T A nee
me appears tram time to time. They
•are area alee, true, and full of baaaao
tetereet.
I
i Half a Rogue
By HAROLD MAC GRATH
Author of the Man on the Box, The Puppet Crown, Hearts and Masks, Etc.
Copyright Bobbs-Merrtll Co., Indianapolis.
CHAPTER I.
"Sir, will you aid a lady in dis
tress?” The voice was tremulous, hut
as rich in tone as the diapason of an
organ.
Warrington looked up from his cigar
to behold a handsome young woman
standing at the side of his table In
the French restaurant where he fre
quently dined. Her round, smooth
cheeks were flushed, and on the lower
lids of her splendid dark eyes tears of
shame trembled and threatened to fall.
Behind her stood a waiter, of Impas
sive countenance, who was adding up
tho figures on a check, his movement
full of suggestion.
The playwright understood the sit
uation at once. The young lady had
ordered dinner, and, having eaten It,
found that she could not pay for it.
Warrington rose.
"What may the trouble be?” he
asked coldly,
"I—I have lost my purse, and I have
no money to pay the waiter.” She
made this confession bravely and
frankly.
One of the trembling tears escaped
and rolled down the blooming cheek.
Warrington surrendered.
The girl fumbled in her handbag and
produced a card, which she gave to
Warrington—“Katherine Challoner.”
"Waiter, let me see the check,” he
said. It amounted to J2.10. Warring
ton smiled. “Scarcely large enough
to cause all this trouble,” he added
reassuringly. “I will attend to It.”
“Oh, it Is so horribly embarrassing!
What must you think of me?” She
twisted her gloves with a nervous
strength which threatened to rend
them.
“Be seated," he said, drawing out the
opposite chair.
A wave of alarm spread over her face.
She clasped her hands.
“Sir, if you are a gentleman—”
Warrington Interrupted her by giv
ing her his card, which was addressed.
She glanced at It through a blur of
tears, then sat down.
"In asking you to be seated," he ex
plained, "it was in order that you
might wait in comfort while I dis
patched a messenger to your home.
Doubtless you have a brother, a father,
or some male relative, who will come
at. once to your assistance.” Which
proved that Warrington was prudent.
But instead of brightening as he
expected she would, she straightened
In her chair, while her eyes widened
with horror, as if she saw something
frightful in prospective.
What the deuce could be the matter
now? he wondered, as he witnessed
this inexplicable change.
No. no! You must not send a mes
senger!" she protested.
"But—"
“No, no!" tears welling into her
beautiful eyes again. They were beau
tiful, he was forced to admit.
“But," he persisted, "you wished the
waiter to do so. I do not understand.”
H'is tone became formal again.
"I have reasons. Oh, heavens! I
am the most miserable woman in all
the world!" She suddenly bowed her
head upon her hands and her should
ers rose and fell with silent sobs.
Warrington finally concluded that it
was his duty to escort the young lady
safely to her home. A cab was sum
moned and they drove to a fashionable
residence on Central Park, West. Step
by step the girl confided to Wurring
ton that her mother was dead, and
that the night before her father, who
was a defaulter—a thief—had fled to
South America. She was alone in the
world.
He seated himself for a few mo
ments in the reception room of the
luxurious dwelling to which she had
taken him.
The girl sat down before a small
writing tabic. She reached among some
papers and finally found what she
sought.
"Mr. Warrington, all this has been
In very bad taste; I frankly confess It.
There are two things you may do:
leave the hous* In anger, or remain to
forgive me this Imposition."
"I fall to understand." He was not
only angered, but bewildered.
“I have deceived you."
"You mean that you have lured me
here by a trick? That you have played
upon my sympathies to gratify. .
"Walt a moment," she Interrupted
proudly, her dark cheeks darkening
richly. “A trick, It Is true; but there
are extenuating clrcumstnces. What I
have told you has happened, only It was
not today nor yesterday. Please re
main seated till I have done. I am
poor; I was educated In the cities I
have named; I have to earn my liv
ing."
She rose and came over to his chair.
She gave him a letter.
"Read this; you will fully under
stand."
Warrington experienced a mild chill
as he saw a letter addressed to him,
nnd his rude scribble at the bottom
of It.
Miss Ohalloner—I beg to state that I
have neither the time nor the inclina
tion to bother with amateur actresses.
Richard Warringeton.
"It was scarcely polite, was it?" she
asked, with a tinge of irony. “It was
scarcely diplomatic, either, you will nd
mtt. I simply asked you for work.
Surely, an honest effort to obtain em
ployri -nt ought not to be met with in
solence."
He stared dumbly at the evidence in
Ills hand. He recalled distinctly the
rage that was In hia heart when he
penned this note. The stage manager
had lost some valuable manuscript that
had to be rewritten from memory, the
notes having been destroyed.
"For weeks," said the girl, “I have
I. tried to get a henring. Manager after
manager I sought; all refused to see
me. I have suffered a hundred af
fronts, all In silence. Your manager I
Raw, but he referred me to you, know
ing that probably I should never find
you. But I was determined. So I
wrote: that was your answer. I con
fess that at the time I was terribly an
gry. for courtesy is a simple thing and
within reach of every one.”
To receive a lesson in manners from
a young woman, when that young
wvman is handsome and tulent'ed, is
not a very pleasant exeperience.
“I know that you are a busy man,
that you are besieged with applications.
You ought, at least, to have formal
slips, such ns editors have. I have
confidence in my ability to act, the
confidence which talent gives to all per
sons. After receiving your letter I was
more than ever determined to see you.
j So I resorted to tills subterfuge. It
I was all very distasteful to me; but I
possess a vein of willfulness. This is
| not my home. It Is the home of a friend
who was kind enough to turn It over to
me this night, relying upon my wit to
bring about this meeting."
"It was neatly done," was Warring
ion's comment. He was not angry now
at all. In fact, the girl inteiested him
tremendously. "I cm rather curious to
learn how you went about it."
"You are not angry?"
I . *
"I was ”
This seemed to satisfy her.
"Well, first I learned where you were
in the habit of dining. All day long a
messenger has beea following you. A
telephone brought me to the restau
rant. The rest you know. It was sim
ple.
“Very simple,” laconically.
“You listened and believed. I have
been watching you. You believed ev
erything I have told you. You have
even been calculating how this scene
might go In a play. Have I convinced
you that I have the ability to act?”
"You have fooled me completely;
that ought to he sufficient recommen
dation. Miss Challoner, I apologize for
this letter. I do more than that. I
promise not to leave this house till you
agree to call at the theater at 10 to
morrow morning.” He was smiling,
and Warrington had a pleasant smile.
He had an idea besides. "Good fortune
put It Into my head to follow you here.
I see It all now, quite plainly. I am In
a peculiar difficulty, and I honestly be
lieve that you can help me out of it.
How long would It take you to learn a
leading part? In fact, the principal
part?”
“A week.”
“Have you had any experience?”
"A short season out west in a stock
company.”
"Good!”
"And I love work.”
"Do not build any great hopes,” he
warned, "for your chance depends upon
the whim of another woman. But you
have my word and my good offices that
something shall be put in your way.”
Many months passed after the
episode previously related. Warring
ton sat in his apartment. He laid down
his pen, brushed his smarting eyes,
lighted his pipe, and tilted back his
chair. The scenario was done; the vil
lain had lighted his last eigaret, the
hero put his arms proteetingly around
the heroine, and the irascible rich un
cle had been brought to terms.
Warrington was 35 now. The grey
hair at the temples and the freshness
of his complexion gave him a singu
larly youthful appearanpe. His mouth
was even-lipped and rather pleasure
loving, which, without the balance of
a strong pose, would have appealed to
you as effeminate. Warrington's was
what the wise phrenologists call the
fighting nose; not pugnacious, but the
nose of a man who will fight for what
he believes to be right, fight biterly
and fearlessly. Today he was famous,
a leading American dramatist, but only
yesterday he had been fighting, retreat
ing, throwing up this redoubt, digging
this trench; fighting, fighting. Poverty,
Ignorance and contempt he fought;
fought dishonesty, and vice, and treach
ery, and discouragement.
Presently he leaned toward the desk
and picked up a letter. He read it 1
thoughtfully, and his brows drew to
gether;
"Richard Warrington—You will smile,
I know, when you read this letter,
doubtless so many like It are mailed to
you day by day. You will toss It into
the waste basket, too, a is it deserves to
be. But It had to be written. How
ever, I feel that I am not writing to a
mere stranger, but to a friend whom I
know well. Three times you have en
tered into my life, and on each occa
sion you have come by a different ave
nuo. I was III at school when you first
appeared to me. It was a poem in a
magazine. It was so full of the spirit
of joyousness, so full of kindness, so
rich in faith and hope, that I cried over
it, cut it out and treasured it, and re
read It often in the lonely hours when
things discouraged me—things which
mean so little to women but so much
to girls. Two years went by, nnd then
rame that brave book! It was like com
ing across a half-forgotten friend. I
actually ran home with it, and sat up
all night to complete It. It was splen
did. It was the poem matured, broad
ened, rounded. And finally your first
play! How I listened to every word,
watched every move! I wrote you a
letter that night, but tore it up, not
having the courage to send it to you.
How versatile you must be; a poem, a
book, a play! I have seen all your
plays these five y?ars, plays merry
nnd gay, sad and grave. How many
times you have mysteriously told me
to be brave! I envy and admire you
What an exquisite thing it must be to
hear one’s thoughts spoken across the
footlights! Please do not laugh. It
would hurt me to know that you could
laugh at my honest admiration. You
won’t laugh, will you? I am sure you
will value this letter for its honesty
rather than for its literary quality. I
have often wondered what you were ,
like. But after ail, that can not mat
ter, since you are good and kind and ,
wise; for you can not be else, and ,
write the lofty things you do.”
Warrington put the letter away, ]
placed it carefully afnong the few i
things he held of value. It would not ;
be true to say that it left him unaf- ,
footed. There was an Innocent barb in
this girlish admiration, and it pierced
the quick of all that was good In him.
"Good and kind nnd wise,” he mused.
"If only the child knew! Hetgh-ho! I
am kind, sometimes I’ve been good, and
often wise. Well. I can’t disillusion the ,
cjilld, hupptly; she has given me no ad- ;
dress." (
He rose, wheeled his chair to a win- >
dow facing the street, and opened It. ,
The cool, fresh April air rushed In, |
clearing the room of its opalescent ;
clouds, cleansing his brain of the fever j
that beset it. He leaned with his elbow \
on the sill and breathed noisily, grate- ,
fully.
CHAPTER It. ,
A sudden desire seized Warrington ,
tonight to return to his home town,
miles away, to become a citizen in fact ,
und deed. It was now the time of year ,
when the spring torrents flood the low
lands, when the melting snows trickle
down the bleak hillsides, when the dead ;
hand of winter lies upon the bosom of
awrakening spring, and the seed is in
travail. Heigh-ho! the world went very
well in the springs of old: care was
in bondage, and all the many gateways
to the heart were bastloned and sen
tineled.
“Sir, a. lady wishes to Bee you."
His valet stood in the doorway.
"The name?” Warrington rose impa
tiently.
“Miss Challoner. sir."
“Challoner!" in surprise, “and this
time of night? He stroked his chin. A
moment passed. Not that he hesitated
to admit her; rather he wished to make
a final analysis of ills heart before
his eyes fell down to worship her
beauty. "Admit her at once." He
brushed the ushes from his Jacket and
smoothed his hair. The valet disap
peared. "It I only loved the woman,
loved her honestly, boldly, fearlessly,
what a difference it would make! I
don't love her, and I realise that I
never did. She never touched my heart,
only my eye and nllnd. I may bo ca
pable of loving any one; perhaps that’s
It. But what can have possessed her
to leave the theater this time of
night?”
A swish of petticoats, a rush of cool
air with which mingled an Indefinable
perfume, and, like a bird taking mo
mentary rest in the passage, she stood
poised on the threshold. A beautiful
woman is a tangible enchantment; and
fame and fortune had made Katherine
Challoner beautiful, roughly, daring
ly, puzzlingly beautiful. Her eyes
sparkled like stars on ruffled waters,
the flame of health and life burned in
her cheeks, and the moist red mobile
mouth expressed emotions so rapidly
and Irregularly as to bewilder the man
who attempted to follow them. Ah, but
she could act; comedy or tragedy, it
mattered not; she was always superb.
"I)lck, you do not say you are glad
to see me.”
"Beauty strlketh the sage dumb,” he
laughed. "What good fortune brings
you here tonight?”
"I am not acting tonight. Nor shall
I be tomorrow night, nor the thousand
nights that shall follow.”
“Why, girl!” he cried, pushing out a
chair. He had not seen her for two
weeks. He had known nothing of her
movements, save that her splendid tal
ents had saved a play from utter ruin.
Her declaration was like a thunder
bolt. “Explain!”
"Well, I am tired, Dick; I am tired.”
She sat down and her gaze roved about
the familiar room with a veiled affec
tion for everything she saw. “The
world is empty. I have begun to hate
the fools who applaud me. I hate the
evil smells which hang about the the
ater. I hate the overture and the man
with the drums," whimsically.
“What’s he done to you?"
“Nothing, only he makes more noise
than the others. I’m tired. It Is not a
definite reason; but a woman Is never
obliged to be definite."
"No; I never could understand you,
even when you took the trouble to ex
plain things.’’
"Yes, I know.” She drew off her
gloves and rubbed her fingers, which
were damp and cold.
“But surely, this Is only a whim.
You can't seriously mean to give up
the stage when the whole world is
watching you!”
She did not answer him, but con
tinued to rub her fingers. She wore
several rings, among which was a bril
liant of unusual luster. Warrington,
however, had eyes for nothing but her
face. B’or the past six months he had
noted the subtle change In her, a grow
ing reserve, a thoughtfulness that was
slowly veiling or subduing her natural
gaiety.
"Isn’t this determination rather sud
den?" he asked.
“I have been thinking of it for some
time,” she replied, smiling. A woman
always finds herself at ease during
such crises. “Only, I hadn’t exactly
made up my mind. You were at work’’”
glancing at the desk.
“Yes, but I’m through for the night
It’s only a scenario, and I am not en
tirely satisfied with it.”
She walked over to the desk and
picked up a sheet at random. She was
a privileged person in these rooms
Warrington never had any .nervous
dread when she touched his manu
script.
“How is it going to end?” she asked.
“Oh, they are going to marry and
be happy ever after,” he answered,
smiling.
“Ah; then they are never going to
have any children ?• she said, with a
flash of her old-time mischief.
“Will you have a cigaret?” lighting
one and offering her the box.
“No; I have a horror of ctgarets since
that last play. To smote in public
every night, perforce, took away the
charm. I hated that part. An adven
turess! It was altogether too close to
the quick; for I am nothing more or
less than an adventuress who has been
successful. Why, the very method I
used to make your acquaintance—years
and years ago, wasn’t ItT—proved the
spirit.
She crossed over to the window to
cool her hot face. She heard the voices
of the night; not as the poet hears
them, but as one In pain. “He never
loved mef” she murmured, so softly
that even thS sparrows In the vine
heard her not. And bitter Indeed was
the pain. As things are written, so
must they be read. She readily held
Mm guiltless; what she regretted most
deeply was the lack of power to have
him and to hold him. Long before, she
had realized the hopelessness of it all.
Knowing that he drank from the cup of
dissipation, she had even sought to hold
him in contempt; but to her he had
never ceased to be a gentleman, tender,
manly and kind. It is contempt that
casts the first spadeful in the grave of
love.
He drew her to the lamp and studied
a new ring he noticed on her finger.
The ruddy lights darted as he slowly
turned .ne Jewel around.
“It is a beauty. No one but a rich
man could have given a ring like that.
And on your finger it means but one
thing."
“I am to be married in June.”
“Do you love him?”
“I respect him; he is noble and good
and kind.”
“I have always wanted a home. The
stage never really fascinated me; It
was bread and butter.”
"Is It necessary to marry in order to
have a home?” he asked quietly, letting
the hand gently slide from his. “You
are wealthy, after a fashion; could you
not build a home of your own?”
(Continued Next Week.)
Nice Little Town’s Big Name.
From the New York World.
LanfalrpwllgwyngyUgogerychwymdr
obwllllandystllogogogoch is a charming
little village In Anglesey, Wales, and a
favorite visiting place for tourists.
There are many other charming little
villages In Wales, all over the world.
In fact, but none with a name like that
Llanflatrpw, etc,, means "the church of
St. Mary In a hollow of white hazel
near the rapid whirlpool and to the
church of St. Tysilio by the red cave.”
It is declared that only a Welshman
can pronounce the name of the village,
but there Is no harm In trying If you
wish. The first syllable "Llan” Is very
simple. You must double back your
tongue along the root of your mouth
and get ready to say something that
sounds half way between “clan” and
“thlan.” and there you’ve got It. The
second syllable “fair” Is encouragingly
simple. And if you want to go on and
learn the whole name of the village the
following rhyme may be of assistance:
At first It began fair.
Commencing with Llanfalr,
Then started a Jingle,
By adding Pwllgwyngyll,
But was horrible very
To stick on Gogery,
And simple Ignoble
To run to Chwyrndrobwl],
Till It almost will kill you
To say Llandyslllo,
With a terrible shock
At the end Geogogoch.
The Inhabitants of the village and
post office authorities have shortened
the name to Llanfalr, P. G., while th«
railroad limits It to Llanfalr.
Reverse Action.
From the Boston Transcript.
“I was fool enough to tell the doc
tor of yours that you sent ma”
"What difference did that make?"
"He demanded his fee in advance.’' j
▼OBASCO.
When It Was First Made in Louis
iana.
New Orleans States: Captain Johr
A. Mclihenny Is In the city this week
from Avery Island, looking very mucl;
as if he had been on a long militarj
campaign, Judging from his rugged
sunburned appearance. He is now pay
ing very close attention to the tobascc
sauce manufacturing business, and at
the present time a large new factory is
going up.
“We are more than pleased with the
growth that this business has under
gone in the past few years,” said the
captain at the St. Charles hotel. "The
(expansion of tobasco manufacturing
jhas been beyond our most sanguine ex
pectations. Ail of the manufacturing
is done on Avery island, and all of the
peppers used are grown on the island.
We raise them on our own plantation
under our own supervision.
"Tobasco sauce was first made on
the island in 1868 by my father, who
thought he could make a sauce from
the peppers which grew there equal to
Maunsel White. At that time there
was no postoffice at Avery island, and
the label was made with New Iberia on
ft, which has been allowed to remain
ever since.
"There has been a great deal writ
ten about tobasco sauce ever since I
can remember. In fact, I think the
pubject is one that has rather been
overdone from the newspaper stand
point, and the only new thing there is
about tobasco is the factory. Of
course, this was made necessary by
the great increase in the business, and
it will not be possible for us to make
enough to suply the demand.”
Avery island is perhaps the most de
lightful spot in the state, high, dry
and healthful during all, seasons of the
year. As Captain Mclihenny states,
(tobasco has been regarded and writ
ten about as one of the distinct prod
ucts of Louisiana for more than half a
gentury. It is almost impossible to
get into any first-class hotel or res
taurant anywhere in the United States
without finding among the condiments
tabasco sauce. It is not, however, a
sauce that can be used in large quan
tities. It is put up in very small bot
tles and a single drop on an oyster is
all that one can relish. Many funny
stories are told of people who enter the
New Orleans restaurants and try to
basco on raw oysters tor the first time.
They will insist on putting about a
teaspoonful on an oyster and gulping
|t down, and then the fireworks begin.
Such a dose causes the eater to see all
the stars in the firmament. A tea
spoonful of tobasco would be enough
for a doim of the largest oysters that
ever came out of Bayou creek.
Much to the surprise of those who
have so long been familiar with to
J>asco sauce, all of the supply of the
(world’s market is raised on about 100
acres of lana. But tne manufevtared
produce of this one 100 acres is per
haps the most valuable of any of a
like area of land in the United States
if not in the world. It has been said
by those who ought to know that the
annual net revenues from tobasco
manufacturing were no less than $150,
000.
During the past few years there have
been all sorts of imitations of tobasco
put on the market, but regardless of
that fact, those who reallv know the
merits of tobasco try always to get
the genuine Mclihenny brand. Such a
reputation has this sauce that it is
now sent into competition with Maun
se! White all over England and Euro
pean countries.
Therefore, despite all of the essays
ever written on tobasco sauce and on
Avery island' and on the Mcllhennys, it
will always remain a fact that the
manufacture of tobasco will be of in
terest because of the uniqueness of the
Industry because of the romantic and
historical interest attaching to Avery
Island, and because every Louisianian
points with pride to Captain John A.
Mclihenny as the best example of what
the real southern gentleman to the
manner born really is and really ought
to be.
Thfcae Football
First Football Player—Pity about
Klckem getting killed in that football
erame.
Second Football Player—Yes, and it
was against a scrub eleven, too.
I 1
Then He Borrowed a Hundred.
Mrs. Payne—I wonder If the angels
ever get sleepy.
Mr. Payne—You never did when I
was wooing you.
Stand by your breed—defend them in
a friendly spirit. Keep an eye open al
ways for improvements in your line.
Be at the head—not at the tail of the
procession.
The motto of the corn-belt farmer
should be. “more and better hogs and
better corn.'' The two go hand in hand
when Judiciously guided. Study corn
culture and hog growing with a bit »f
j forages thrown In to keep things
1 healthy.
ICHANGE
IN WOMAN’S
_LIFE
Made Safe by Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound.
Graniteville, Vt. —“I was passing
through the Change of Life and suffered
If r o in nervousness
and other annoying
symptoms, and I
can truly say that
Lydia E. Pinkham’s
vegetable Com
pound has proved
worth mountains of
gold to me, as it
restored my health
and strength. I
never forget to tell *“
my friends what
Lydia E. Pinkham’s t
Vegetable Compound has done for me
during this trying period. Complete 1
restoration to health means so much
to me that for the sake of other suffer
ing women I am willing to make mv
trouble public so you may publish
this letter.”—Mrs. Chas. Barclay,
R.F.D., Graniteville, Vt.
No other medicine for woman’s ills
has received such wide-spread and un
qualified endorsement. No other med
icine we know of has such a record
of cures as has Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound.
For more than 30 years it has been
curing woman’s ills such as inflamma
tion, ulceration, fibroid tumors, irreg
ularities, periodic pains and nervous
prostration, and it is unequalled for
carrying women safely through the
period of change of life.
Mrs. Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass.,
invites all sick women to write
her for advice. Her advice is free,
and always helpful
y»ihmi —M—m—tmmmaewmwin——wmman—«—
AID TO MARRIED HAPPINESS
Southerner Evolves the Panama Cock- \
tall Which Makes Man Thought- \
ful of Wife.
Russell Hopkins, a southerner, who
lives in 4fte St. Regis, is responsible
for the Panama cocktail. He and
Charles Luther Burnham were talk- A
ing over Hopkins’ latest concoction,
which bad been placed in the little
book kept by the bartender.
“You take half a pony of brandy,
half a pony of curacao, a third of dry
grfn and French or Italian vermouth,
and there you are—there’s your drink
before dinner,” said Hopkins.
“Yes,” interposed Burnham, “it’s a
cocktail, all right. One of your
friends came in here the other day
with more than |3D0' fn bis wallet. He
was initiated into the mysteries of
the Panama cocktatl. He seemed all
right when he left, but he was found
the following day in a ferry-house
hugging a set of furs he had bought
for his wife. From what could be
gleaned from him he had, on a pass
ably warm day, thought his wife
ought to have new furs, and, with,
that idea, he went to a store and
spent all the cash in his pocketbook
for a set.—New York Press.
IS EPILEPSY CONQUERED?
New York Physicians Have Many
Cures to Their Credit.
New York, April 4.—Advices from
every direction fully confirm previous
reports that the remarkable treatment
for epilepsy being administered by th©
consulting physicians of the Dr. Water
man Institute is achieving wonderful
results. Old and stubborn cases have
been greatly benefited and many pa
tients claim to have been entirely
cured.
Persons suffering from epilepsy
should write at once to Dr. Waterman
Institute, 122 East 26th st„ Branch 63,
New York, for a supply of the remedy,
which is being distributed gratuitously.
Chicken, All Right.
A Camden lawyer walked into a res
taurant the other day, prepared to
order himself a chicken dinner.
The waitress approached him. Ho
looked at her and said:
“How’s chicken?”
"I'm all right,” she answered, cheer
ily; “how's yourself?”
"The heart is a small thing, but de
slreth great matters; it is not suffi
cient for a kite’s dinner, yet the world
is not sufficient for it.—Hugo.
Constipation cause; and seriously aggra
vates many diseases. It is thoroughly cured
by Dr. Pierce’s Pellets. Tiny sugar-coated
granules.
Go to sleep without supper, but rise
without debt.—Talmud.
Up-Set
Sick Feeling
that follows taking a dose of castor
oil, salts or calomel, is about the
worst you can endure—Ugh—it
gives one the creeps. You don’t
have to have it—CASCARETS
move the bowels—tone up the
liver—without these bad feelings.
Try them. an
C.A.SCA JETS toc s box for a week's
' t. estm.-nt, *11 druggists. Biggest seller
in the world. Million boxes a month.
BIG PROFITS tenWr&a
paying stock. Assets* SuOO lots, liutki uenes oil lauds
Your $5.00 may make you $600. Vuluea lnerea*inii
Oil and town booming. Write Mountain Realty
Corporation, 867 Railway, Denver, Colo.
mo years oh
QUiCK
MaaiBITITOIMai tu n«i8m
