Misplaced.
First Cinder—Why so angry?
Second Cinder—I’ve been wasting
time in a glass eye.
Mrs.Winslow's Soothing Syrup rer Children
issuing, softens the gnms, redness InUtnnt
lion,alleys pels.seres wind ooilcjhs » bottled*
Improving the 8hinlng Hours.
Blobbs—Why do you liken Hard
uppa to the busy bee? He’s not par
ticularly industrious, Is he?
Slobbs—Oh, no, It isn’t that, but
nearly every one he touches gets
stung.
Not the Way.
An "advanced" woman tells the
New York Tribune that "women are
headed straight for trousers.” We
beg to inform the dear girl that the
manner of approach must be reversed
before the effort can be successful.—
Louisville Courier-Journal.
SCALP TROUBLE FOR YEARS
268 Harrison St., Elyria, Ohio.—"My
case was a scalp trouble. I first no
ticed small bunches on my scalp which
commenced to itch and I would
scratch them and In time they got
larger, forming a scale or scab with a
little pus, and chunks of hair would
come out when I would scratch them
off. It caused me to lose most of my
hair. It became thin and dry and life
less. I was troubled for over tea
years with It until It got so bad I was
ashamed to go to a barber to get my
hair cut.
"I tried everything I could get hold
of,-and-, but received no
cure until I commenced using Cuticu
ra Soap and Ointment when the scale
commenced to disappear. The way I
used the Cuticura Soap and Ointment
was to wash my scalp twice a day
with warm water and Cuticura Soap
and rub on the Cuticura Ointment. I
received benefit In a couple of weeks
and was cured in two months.”
(Signed) F. J. Busher, Jan. 28, 1913.
Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold
throughout the world. Sample of each
free,with 32-p. Skin Book. Address post
card "Cuticura, Dept. L, Boston.”—Adv.
Original 8ort of Ham.
A lady gave a luncheon recently and
explained that she always cooked ham
by the recipe used by Thomas Jeffer
son, which had been handed down In
her family for yeare.
This recipe required that the ham
be cooked for about two hours by
simmering, but, under no condition
must It be allowed to boil?
A ham was on the stove, its des
tinies presided over by a young col
ored woman from up In the mountains.
* "Jane," called the mistress of the
house, "don’t let that ham boll.”
“No’um,” replied Jane, “I ain't er
gwine to boll no ham. Its on the stove
now Just a slmperingl”
Interesting Beginning.
A fair graduate was conversing with
a young gentleman who had been
presented to her after the commence
ment exercUes. '
"Well,” she sighed happily, "I am
- an A B. now. Of coiirse you have a
degree?”
"Yes," he replied, "but I am only
a B."
The fair grad pondered. The de
gree was puzzling.
"Why, what la that?" she asked.
"Bachelor,” ho said.
8tung.
“I want my money back for these
here socks," said the man as he hand
ed the clerk a package. “The sign you
Ttad up said the socks was guaranteed
fer three months."
“Well, what’s the matter with the
socks?" asked the clerk.
"I only wore them three weeks, and
1 had to take them off and buy another
pair because thie pair had holes in
the toes,” replied the man.
All a Means of Advancement
Apply thyself earnestly to thy task,
whether it be small or great, for the
achievement of years Is but the study
of many days.—Simon de Bruges.
CLOUDED BRAIN
Clears Up on Change to Proper Food.
The brain cannot work with clear
ness and accuracy, if the food taken Is
not fully digested, but is retained in
the stomach to ferment and form
poisonous gases, etc. A dull, clouded
brain Is likely to be the result.
A Mich, lady relates her experience
In changing her food habits, and re
sults are very Interesting:
“A steady diet of rich, greasy foods
such as sausage, buckwheat cakes and
so on, finally broke down a stomach
and nerves that, by Inheritance, were
sound and strong, and medicine did
no apparent good in the way of relief.
"My brain was clouded and dull and
I was suffering from a case of consti
pation that defied all remedies used.
"The ‘Road to Wellvllle,’ In some
providential way, fell into my bands,
and may Heaven's richest blessings
fall on the man who was Inspired to
write it.
"I followed directions carefully, the
physical culture and all, using Grape
Nuts with sugar and cream, leaving
meat, pastry and hot biscuit entirely
out of my bill of fare. The result—
I am In perfect health once more.
"I never realize I have nerves, and
my stomach and bowels are In tine
condition. My brain Is perfectly clear
and I am enjoying that state of health
which God intended his creatures
should enjoy and which all might
have, by giving proper attention to
their food." Name given by Poetum
Co.. Battle Creek, Mich. Read *“Th*
Road to Wellville," in pkgs. “There's
a reason.”
Ever rend the above hunt A lea 1
Me appears Irom time to time. The»
■re peaolne, true, aad full of humus
him* *
l9he MINISTER
POLICE
By HENRY MONTJOY
C—yri«lW. 1*12, Tho Bohbo-MgrriB Comp—j.
Synopsis.
"THE MINISTER OF POLICE," by
Henry Mountjoy, Is a romance of Paris
during the Louis XV reign, a period when
Europe was In a condition of foment and
unrest; when Voltaire was breaking to
pieces the shackles of religion; when
Rousseau at the Cafe de Regenance was
preaching the right to think; and when a
thousand men, some In the gutter, some
near the throne, were prep- 'ing the great
explosion of the revolution. . ,
Madame Linden, an Austrian lady,
after completing a simple mission to the
French county, lingers on In Paris, enjoy
ing the gay life there. De Sartlnes, the
minister or police, thinks she has some
other motive than pleasure In <delaying
her departure and surrounds her with
spies to discover, if possible, whether she
Is dabbling In state plots. .. .
De Lussac Is a noble of exceptional
character of that period. Handsome, with
all the elegance of a man of the court,
there Is still about him something that
stamps him as a man apart, something or
the visionary, the enthusiast and the poet,
rare in that age of antmal lust, chilling
wit and embroidered brutality. He Is, in
fact, steeped In the philosophy of Rous
seau and Is trying to put this philosophy
Into practice through his connection wltn
a secret society that Is plotting the down
fall of the state. Before he has gone far
enough to Incriminate himself he falls in
love with the beautiful Austrian, who
persuades him his method of righting the
wrongs of humanity Is Impracticable, and
ends by promising to go \to Vienna with
her to live.
As he leaves her house a fellow con
spirator, his chief, Joins him, says several
of their members are arrested, ana en
trusts the secret articles of the association
to him. He then explains to De Lussac
that their only hope Is to Intimidate the
minister of police. This can be accom
plished only by obtaining an Incriminat
ing contract signed by the minister of po
lice and In the possession and safe keep
ing of De Richelieu. De Lussac’s cousin.
With this contract In their possession they
can dictate terms to the minister of po
lice, obtain the release of the members
already Imprisoned and be safe them
selves.
Du Lussac goes home, buries the papers
he has Just received, writes Madame Lin
den that he Is attempting one last mission
for the society, and alBO writes an asso
ciate telling him where the papers may
be found In case of his death. Then he
enters Richelieu's home and alnjost suc
ceeds In getting the document, but Is sur
prised and leaves It In a drawer which he
has unlocked. Before he can make an
other attempt he la arrested and taken to
the Bastlle but not before he has told
Madalme Linden how nearly he succeeded
fn getting the document. She, realizing
how desperate her lover's position is, vis
its Richelieu's horns and succeeeds where
her lover has failed.
CHAPTER IV (Continued).
"Mordleu," cried De Richelieu, half
laughing and more than ever fascinat
ed. “What a position for me had one
of the servants come!”
“And what a position for me, mon
sieur!”
She was now flushed, laughing, ex
cited; as though her success had elec
trified her mind, of a sudden a new
plan full-born and alluring rose before
her. She had triumphed on behalf of
De I.ussac; she had In her hand a
terrible weapon. Another woman
would have contented herself with that
evening’s work;'not so Madame Linden.
To strike all her enemies with one
blow, to ruin De Sartlnes and to
humble the D’Harlancourt, Madame de
Stenlls and De Joyeuse at the same
time, that was her scheme; and she
determined thfct De Richelieu should
help her In It.
"At least, madame, you were on the
right sido of the door," replied the
marechal, "and ma fol, but one might
fancy that loveliness had locked herself
in with you and you had changed
clothes. Would that I had put my eye
to the keyhole!”
“How do you mean, monsieur?"
"Because, madame, before you closed
the door on me your beauty burned my
eyes; now It blinds them."
"Monsieur,” said she, glancing at the
clock, “it is late, and I have trespassed
greatly on your time. You have paid
mo a hundred compliments, you have
held my hand, encircled my waist,
allowed yourseif nearly all the liberties
which a man of pleasure takes with a
woman of his sort. You have treated
mp, in short, os you have been accus
tom id to treat the ladies of the court.
I am not a women of that sort.
I do not love you, monsieur, I
love. Monsieur de Lussac; but always
before marriage I hold that a
woman Is free to give or to sell her
favors, and that it is a matter entire
ly between herself, her conscience and
her Makef.
“I wish io revenge myself upon my
enemies, and If you will help me, I
will say to you, ‘Monsieur de Richelieu,
when my revenge is complete, come to
me and 1 will pay you for your as
sistance with—‘ ”
"With what, madame?”
“My lips."
‘‘And what is this assistance that you
require, madame?”
"Oh, do not be alarmed; It Is very
- simple. I wish you to invite me to
dejeuner at your house in Pgrls tomor
row at noon.” (
"A thousand times, yes.”
"Hut, wait. I wish you to invite some
guests to meet pie."
De Richelieu made a grimace.
"And the guests—?”
“Are, first of all. Monsieur )e Comte
de Sartlnes.”
Do Richelieu laughed.
“Certainly, madame. Who else?”
“Madame de Stenlls, Madame d’Har
lancourt, and Monsieur de Joyeuse."
De Richelieu pursed his lips.
“What you ask is easy enough, ma
dame. What else?”
“Nothing more."
“But, madame, I do not see your
point. I Invite you to dejeuner with
these people; you all come. How does
that help you to triumph over them?
They will all be banded against you.
You do not know these women of the
court and what they are capable of."
"I do. Indeed, monsieur; but they
don't know me. Please do as I ask and
leave me only my wit, and I will bring
them all literally to their knees.”
De Richelieu rubbed his hands, then
laughed. "Mordieu,” thought he, “this
ought to be as good as the Comedio
Francalse." Then to the baroness,
“Madame, I will do as you say. But
the Invitations must be dispatched ear
ly tomorrow morning."
“Write them, monsieur.” said she,
“when I am gone, and your servant
can deliver them tomorrow early. Make
the invitation urgent, so that it may
override any pre-engagelnent these
people may have.”
“Leave that to me, madame. I shall
make It little short of a command.”
“Ah,” said she, “you are a man ot
spirit and sense, and 1 promise you,
monsieur, one thing: you shall have
great amusement at your house In the
Rue du Faubourg St. Honore tomor
row at 12:30.”
"And after?” asked De Richelieu.
She laughed.
"I always pay my debt*. And this
Is for earnest.” She held out her lips
and he kissed her.
Her extraordinary frankness, her
golden voice, her beauty and personal
magnetism had completely bound this
old libertine in their pentagram; the
thought that he was getting the better
of De Lussac, a man so much his jun
ior did not lessen his satisfaction.
“And now, monsieur, I must go. To
morrow at 12:30, expect me.”
He followed her as she passed Into
the corridor and then across the great
hall, where they parted. On the steps
before which her carriage was drawn
up, who should be waiting for her but
Placide!
“What!” cried she. "You here!”
“Yes, madame. Hoslne told me that
you had come here, and I took‘a ca
briolet and followed you, aB I have
some very Important Information for
your ear.”
“And your Information?”
“Madame, what I have to say has to
do with Monsieur de Lussac.”
“Then get Into the carriage with me
and you can tell me as we drive.”
She made him get In and take the
front seat. Then the carriage started.
All the way from Paris Placlde had
been racking his head for an excuse
for having followed her.
"Well,” said she. When they had
cleared the avenue gates, “your infor
mation?”
“Just this madame,” said the old fel
low bluffly. “I am not blind.”
“So you posted all the way from Par
is to tell me about the state of your
eyes! Well, then, monsieur Placi&e,
you shall' pay your own expenses for
the journey, and you can, now that you
have relieved yourself of your informa
tion, get out and sit beside the coach
man.
Placlde noted her gaiety and anima
tion: more than ever he felt certain
that whatever business had brought
her to De Richelieu’s, It was of a most
Important nature and that she had
been successful in It. He had come
with the idea of trying to pick up news
from the majordomo, but at the last
moment he determined to adhere to
the baroness.
“Madame," he went on, quite un
moved, “I am not blind and it has been
easy for me to see that you are not
disinterested in anything concerning
the welfare of Monsieur de Lussac.”
"Ah, Monsieur de Lussac!”
"Yes, madame. He has been im
prisoned. I heard the news /this eve
ning from the footman of Monsieur
de Duras.”
“And you came after me to Ver
sailles to inform me of this!" The lit
tle lamp that lighted the interior of
the carriage showed him that her eyes
were moist. His fidelity had evidently
moved her to the heart; he had not
reckoned on this.
"Oh, madame, that was nothing. Just
a summer evening's drive."
"My good Placlde,” she replied, “fidel
ity is a great deal in this world, where
all men are unfaithful. But you have
been a grumbling servant, you have
set Roslne by the ears, and I doubt
even if you have been satisfied with
your mistress. In short, my good
Placlde, you are an Intolerable servant,
and as a recompense for your fidelity
this evening I now discharge you from
my service."
“What now?" thought Placlde, at this
unexpected turn.
"I discharge you as a servant and re
engage you as a friend, a salaried
friend. Well, what do you say to that,
grumbler?"
Placlde i said nothing for a moment.
One might have fancied that she had
touched the old scamp’s heart.
"Mordleu! madame," grumbled he, at
lost, “you are making a lot out of
nothing. I am just your servant.”
“And my friend."
All the way to Paris behind ma
d&me’s triumphant gaiety was the fear
of pursuit. If Richelieu opened that
fatal drawer before she had put suf
ficient distance between them to make
pursuit Impossible, he would pursue
her. It was, therefore, with a sigh of
relief that she passed the toll gate
and the gates of Paris, and heard the
familiar grinding of the wheels on the
pavement of the city.
It was long after midnight and the
deserted streets lay under the moon.
The hungry city slept, guarded by the
bastile standing like a mailed giant
In the moonlight
At the house In the Rue Coq Heron
the carriage stopped. Placlde descend
ed and helped his mistress to alight.
As he did so his hand, brushing her
dress, felt something In her pocket; the
folded parchment of the document
could be distinctly felt through the
brocade. His hound's Instinct told
him that here lay the secret of the
Journey to De Richelieu.
He followed her Into the house,
where she bade him good night and
went to her room.
Having-locked the door, she took
the precious document from her pocket
and read It carefully, from the first
word to the last. Yes, this was the
infamous contract. In very truth, a
weapon against De Sartlnes more for
midable than a dagger. She went.-to
the little bureau In the corner of the
room and, taking a sheet of paper
and a pen, sat down and began to
make a fair copy of the document,
word for word. When this was ac
complished, she locked the two papers
away and went to bed.
She awoke an hour after dawn,
dressed without calling Roslne, and
taking from the bureau the original
document, folded It In a sheet of paper,
making a little parcel of It which she
sealed. Then, placing the parcel in
her pocket, she left the house.
She had put on her plainest dress
and 4 veil which almost hid her fea
tures, so that she might pass un
noticed through the early morning
streets. Her plan of campaign was
now quite clearly mapped out ■ before
her, and though she had no friend in
Paris in whom she could Implicitly
place her trust, her genius had dis
covered a man the soul of honor, a
man whom she could trust and' more
over a man who walked fearless of
the king and De Sartlnes.
She had left now the broader streets
and Inquiring her way as She went,
found at last the Rue Plastrlere, a
street rather gone to decay. Some of
the houses in the street were of great
antiquity, gabled and weathercocked,
sunken In their foundations by age;
remnants of that Paris which once
showed Its fantasy ef roofs, vanes.
spires and towers to the sun; the Pari*
of Louis XI, half university, half city;
the Paris of Villon and Rabelais,
through which in the winter wolves
prowled; dominated by Notre Dame
and the gibbets of Montfaucon.
At one of these old houses Madame
Linden paused, verified the number,
and then, going up the two steps that
led to the doorway, rang the queasy
bell.
Scarcely had she released the handle
when the door opened and a man ap
peared. He was gray bearded, shabby
and rusty, attired in a snuff colored
coat the worse for wear, and a broad
brimmed hat; he carried a book under
his arm and it was quite evident that
he had not opened the door in reply to
the summons, for, when he saw the
veiled figure of the woman, he started
back.
"What do you want?” said he, hold
ing the door in such a way that he
could clap it to at a moment's notice.
"Monsieur," replied the baroness,
who, despite the desperate seriousness
of her mission, could scarcely restrain
her mirth at the appearance of the
book worm and his evident alarm, "I
want an interview with you on a mat- ,
ter of the utmost importance to one
of your friends.’’
“You know me then?”
"Oh, monsieur, all Europe knows you,
and though I have never seen you be
fore, yet I recognize you at once.”
the book worm, allured by the
voice of the charmer, . came forward
and, closing the door behind him, stood
on the step.
He had a mirthless face, a face
wherein lurked suspicion and distrust;
an extraordinary face, so much of
greatness and of littleness did it con
tain; the face of a practical man and
a dreamer—he had even forgotten to
wash it that morning, just &s he had
forgotten to brush, his coat, which he
held tightly clasped about him with
one thin hand, as if to fend off the ap
proaches of the world.
Thus In the 'early morning bright
ness stood Monsieur Rousseau of
Geneva, a most difficult subject to deal
with, as Madame Linden perdeived,
despite her veil. Soft words were of
no use as a first approach to this
evasive and self-centered nature.
“Well, monsieur,” sh^ went on, "I
can compliment you on many things,
but there is one thing on which I can
not felicitate you, and that is your
sense of hospitality.”
"Madame,” said Rousseau, taken
aback, "I am bound on an early morn
ing visit to my friend Monsieur da
Rennes. Besides, madame, I do not
know you.”
"Therefore, you clap your door in
my face? Ah, monsieur, how easy it
is to be a philosopher; to or^er an
emperor out of your sunlight, to clap
your door in the face of a woman!
Come, I will explain myself, then, in
the open air, if you will allow me to
walk beside you down the street. And
now, directly to my point, your friend
Monsieur le Comte de Lussac is in
prison.”
"In prison?”
“In the fortress of the Bastile,
caught in the toils of Monsieur de
Sartines. who will devour him as sure
ly as a spider devours a fly, if I do not
come to his assistance.”
Now Rosseau had a real fondness for
his disciple, De Lussac, but Rosseau,
though he preached unrest, was no
conspirator; he knew nothing of the
Society of the Midi; he was a philos
opher, a musician, a thinker; his social
contract did not include fisticuffs.
“Madame,” said he, stopping and
facing her, "what you tell me disturbs
me deeply. In prison! And what has
this unfortunate young man done?"
"This unfortunate young man, mon
sieur, has simply been carrying out In
practice what you preach in theory.
You have made him discontented with
the world as it is, and he has been
trying to upset it, succeeding only in
nearly upsetting Monsieur de Sar
tines’ coach.”
“Upsetting Monsieur de Sartines’
coach ?”
"I speak figuratively, monsieur. Ho
has been conspiring against the social
order, and the social order has placed
him in prison.”
Rousseau fumbled with his book,
standing before Madame Linden like a
school boy. In the few moments of
their conversation her intelligence had
overridden his genius. She was tak
ing him to task.
"Madame,” said he at last, “I have
nothing to do with conspiracies. I
have never preached sedition. You
say that my teaching has made tho
young man discontented with things
as they are. Granted: that is what my
teaching aims at. Since when was
contentment a virtue? Take it even in
art. What artist who is content with
his work ever arrives at greatness?"
In another moment he would have
plunged and hidden himself in the
fountain of philosophy, but madame
was too quick for him.
"Monsieur, you wander from the
point. This is not a question of art,
but politics, and Monsieur de Lussao
has arrived, owing to the discontent
ment you taught him, not at greatness,
but in prison. It is your duty to help
me, without in the least involving
yourself, to extricate him.”
“Madame," said Rousseau decisively,
“if this Is as you say, I will myself
go and see the king."
(Continued next week.)
Stone Walls.
Along the country roadside, stone on
stone.
Past waving grain field, and near broken
stile, \
The walls stretch onward, an uneven pile
With rankling vines and lichen over
grown;
So stand they sentinel. Unchanged, alone.
They're left to watch the season's passing
slow;
The summer’s sunlight or the winter’s
snow.
The springtime blrdling, or the autumn’s
moan.
Who placed the stones now gray with
many years?
And did the rough hands tire, the Bore
hearts ache.
The eyes grow dim with all their weight
of tears ?
Or did the work seem light for some dear
sake?
Those lives are over. All their hopes
and fears
Are lost like shadows In the morning
break.
—Julie Mathllde Llppmann.
Concerning Panama.
Joseph Bucklln Bishop, secretary of
the canal commission, in Scribner’s, says:
"What the engineers of the United
States government are constructing at
Panama Is not a canal through the Isth
mus but a bridge of water across and
above It. The so-called canal Is a huge
water-bridge, the first In the world's his
tory. It Is about 34 miles In length, 8T
feet high, wl;h a channel of water
through Its center varying In depth from
46 to 87 feet and width at the bottom from
300 to 1,000 feet. The bridge la divided into
two sections, Gatun Lake and Culebra
Cut, the latter being an arm of the for
mer. Access to the bridge by vessels will
be by means of water-elevators, six in du
plicate at either end. each 1.000 feet long,
110 feet feet -Wide, and with a combined
lift of K feet1'
t v *
Negligence Called Manslaughter.
The case of Stehr vs. State before
the Supreme Court of Nebraska, In
volved the sentence of a father for
from one to ten years in the penitenti
ary for criminal .negligence, because
during a blizzard in Nebraska, when
the weather was bitter cold, he per
mitted the fire to go out, snow drifted
through a crack in the door and a
broken windowpane, and the bedding
of all the members of the family was
frozen stiff. The feet of one of the
children were frozen, and although
such fact was apparent to the father
no physician was called in for 16 days,
when amputation was found to be nec
essary and the child died of blood pois
oning. The defendant was convicted
of manslaughter for criminal negli
gence in failing to provide medical
Care after he discovered the frozen
condition of the child’s feet In af
firming the conviction the court held
that for a parent having special charge
of an infant child culpably to neglect
it so that death ensues as a conse
qence is manslaughter, although death
or grievous bodily harm was ndt in
tended, and if the parent has not the
means for the child’s nurture it is his
duty to apply to the public authorities
for relief.
■
(ASTORIA
Forlnfantg and Children.
f
i
m IIIKIA
▼Ha OaNTAIIR ROMRANV. NIW YORK OITY.
Telling a Secret.
It Is doubtful whether the person
who asserted that secrets were made
to tell, foresaw, even in his most cyni
cal mood, anything like the following
conversation in Das Echo:
“Lottie tells me that you. told her
the secret that I told you not to tell
anyone.”
"Oh, Isn’t she mean! I told her not
to tell you that I told it to her.”1
“Yes, I told her that I wouldn’t tell
you If she told me, bo please don’t tell
her that I told you!”
For Aching, Perspiring Feet
use Tyree’s Antiseptic Powder either
sprinkled into- the shoes or used in
solution. Never fails to relieve. 26c.
at all druggists or sample sent free by
J. S. Tyree, Washington, D. C.—Adv.
French View of Women.
The life of a woman can be divided
into three epochs; in the first she
dreams of lore, in the second she ex
periences it, in the third she regrets
it.—Antoine Jean Casse de Saint Pros
per.
Some Girts Do.
“I wonder why all the girls in our
set titter whenever they see me.”
“I think your fiancee passes your
love letters around, my boy.”
The mere fact that a man doesn’t
laugh at his own jokes is no indica
tion that he doesn’t think them funny.
The
Constipano:
It Growing Smaller Ev
CARTER’S LITTLE
LIVER PILLS are
responsible — thej _,__
-fty^nre!ief Carters
nentlycurec! *1™
itipation. Mil I jVER
lions use ^PIULS.
them for m—H
BiliooiBd, —
ItdiiMlna, mm wmtii, Sallow Skin.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE. SMALL PRICE
Genuine must bear Signature
DAISY FLY KILLER £*£ STtSU S
Hie*. Neat, clean, or»
uamental, convenient
■k w;Cheap. La ate all
a• aiom. Made of
metal, can't spill or tip
Bnir^nPr^^r^iflWrfB Jw OTer- wl>1 not soil or
1 pj u r* anything.
Guaranteed effective.
All dealers or#seat
W—express paid for tl.Qt,
HAROLD BOMER8, 150 DeKalb At*., Brooklyn, M. T.
FREE TO ALL SUFFERERS.
If you feel ‘OUT OF SORTS'‘RUN DOWM’or’ GOT THE BLUBS*
SUFFER from KIDNEY. BLADDER. NERVOUS DISEASES,,
CHRONIC WEAKNESSES, ULCBRS.9KIN ERUFTION3,PILES,
write for my FREE book, thb most instructivS
MEDICAL BOOK EVER WRITTEN JT TELLS ALL about thflS*
DISEASES and the remarkable cures effected by
THB NEW FRENCH REMEDY. Net. N.2. N*2L
THERAPION tsr'sds
If It’s the remedy for YOUR OWN allmeat. Don’t send a cent.
Absolutely FREE. No'follovrup’clrculars. DR-LkCLERO
MED. CO. HAVKRSTOC& RD. HAMFSTKAD, LONDON, AM A.