HOLY WEEK.
Warn the Indianapolis News
In tha round of days no span of a
Week marks the fickleness of human
nature aa does the one drawing to a
close. Tha lame multitude that cried.
"Hosanna to the Son of David, blessed
be He that cometh in the name of the
Lord,” only a few days Inter cried.
"Crucify Him!” He was welcomed as
a king, and Immediately on His entry
Into the city on Palm Sunday He ex
ercised kingly authority, as when He
purified the temple, clearing it of
hucksters and money changers. His
followers today can find few more
profltabl# subjects for meditation than
this cleansing of the temple- this call
ing the people back to the realities of
their religion. The days following
were crowded with events. The ac
claimed King spoke some of His most
wonderful parables. He confounded the
scholars In several doctrinal contro
versies, told of His second coming ale
the Passover, and Instituted the Lord’s
aupper. Finally He was "crucified,
dead and buried.”
The week is the most solemn of the
Christian year. In the life of Him who
was a "man of sorrows and acquainted
with grief no other days were so bur
dened with suffering and sadness, or
so full of the word and act of active
benevolence, of declaration of kingship
—a kingship which, before the week
was ended, was "nailed for our advan
tage to the bitter cross.” It is tills
ronsummatlon that the time comment- ,
orates.
Christianity Is essentially a Joyous
religion and ends with the resurrection.
Even those who denyr the King are not
proof against the joyousness that hails
the day of His birth, llut even those
who own Him reckon little of His
death. The world does not often keep
death days, though the calendar Is
studded with the birthdays of men that
have left their impress on their time.
Christ's death moans as much to the
world as His birth. Memories such as
those that cluster about the crucifixion
eught to be very precious to Christians,
^hey draw the human heart for a brief
leason to a contemplation of the suf
sufering that has made its Joy whole
some. and that, when truly realized by
Uie heart, must chasten and purify It.
COLORING EASTER EGGS.
The coloring of eggs for Easter Is an
old, old custom. Anciently, the grown
ups presented these eggs to each other,
the children coming In for a share, but
In modern times these favors have been
In this country at least, almost exclu
sively for the children. The ease with
which theso Easter eggs are now col
ored. by means of aniline dyes, de
tracts. no doubt, from the pomp and
circumstance that attended the color
ing of these Easter favors In tho days
of our grandmothers when the dyeing
was done with logwood, Indigo and
madder. Now and then a grandmother
with finer artistic sense would sew the
•ggs Into bits of fadable calico, from
which would be printed some rare and
radiant Dolly Varden patterns, which
were a delight to look upon. Such
treasures were often cherished In tho
household, displayed In a dish on the
parlor mantelpiece for weeks and
months to be shown to vUltorB, that
they might marvel at grandmother's
wondrous art. And at the end of this
time, as there must bo an end to ev
erything, these long kept trophies were
regretfully fed to old dog Tray, ever
faithful.
Tears ago It was customary In some
Sunday schools to provide great quan
tities of colored eggs for Easter to be
given to the children. It took no small
amount of time and care to prepare
this donation, as beside the color each
egg was to bear upon Its side a brief
blble text written through the color
with a pen dipped In add. This re
moved the color and the letters of the
text showed up In gleaming white. |
In England, In the quaint old town
of Chester, the Pace or Pask eggs
(from the French word Pasque for
Easter) going back almost to the time
of William the Conqueror, were not
forgotten. Then, as now, the eggs were
boiled very hard In water colored with
red. blue or violet dyes, and Inscrip
tions were written upon them. An old
chronicle says: "Eggs wero always In
such demand at that season that they
alwnyB rose greatly In price”—which
would Indicate that the law of supply
and demand was In full vigor even at
that early time and even without the
meretricious aid of the storage house
and the middleman. |
The same chronicle notes that "boys '
played with eggs as balls, for ball play
ing on Easter Monday was engaged In
by every rank: even the clergy could
not forego Its delights and made this
game a part of their service. Bishops
and deans took the ball (or egg) into
the church and at the beginning of the
antiphonc began to dance, throwing It
to the choristers, who handed It to each
other during the time of the dancing
and antiphone.”
At an Easter Wedding.
Tlcgtnald Vanderbilt said at a pre
Kaster wedding in New York:
"How interesting It would be If we
could know how all thes~ pretty wed
dings came about! Often, no doubt,
the girls themselves brought them
about, unless. Indeed, the man was too
Inordinately dense, like Travers
"Travers met a pretty girl last win- !
ter In Bermuda He danced with her
be wheeled with her for strawberries
*nd cream, and he bathed with her In
the pretty blue pool with its lining of
azure tiles.
"Hut he didn’t propose. Was he too
bashful? The girl, at any rate, one
afternoon In a tea garden, offered to
read his fture, and holding his big
brown hand in her slim white one, she
murmured, as her lingers moved deli
cately across his palm:
•' ‘This line indicates that before you
lies -happiness.’
Hhe paused, with downcast eyes. But
nothing followed. The young man sat
beside her, grinning sheepishly. Her
lip curled in disdain, and she added in
a clear, cold voice:
" ’But this other line Indicates that
you’ll never overtake that future. Y< u
ere too slow.' "
New Uses For Skimmed Milk.
From the Pathfinder.
A' process has been developed by n\
American Inventor for using sktrnmc •
milk In the manufacture of moving
picture films. This material can also
used for making buttons, piano keys,
"French Ivory." toilet articles, etc. The
prwesa converts skimmed milk into a
material similar to celluloid, which is
capable of being manipulated, colored
end worked in various ways.
Shrewd Old Man.
From the St. l.ouln Post-Dispatch.
"You’re an old married man. What
h you do when your wife begins to
* old?"
"ICncourage her. I talk back—dis
creetly, of course. 1 say tantalizing
things. I make foolish excuses. I sum
mer and get husky."
"But doesn’t that make her a good
deal madder?"
••‘if course It does. That’s the In
tention. I want her to get so mad that
she won’t have any voice left to ask
me for money.”
"Gee! T wonder if I’ll ever get as
hardened as that’"
_tin mi ini_
f MARY MIDTHORNE 1
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON.
[I Author of “Graustark," “Truxton KInf;,” etc.
V Copyright. 1511, ny Dodd, Mead & Co.
vj7 llll III! IIII
CHAPTER III—Continued.
'T don’t care what happens to me,"
flared the boy, struggling with his
tears. "What’s the use? I’m—I’m fore
ordained, ain’t I? Ain’t we all fore-or
dained? What good is it going to do to
pray? Prayer won’t help a fore-or
dained boy. will It? It won’t—” He was
plunging recklessly, heedlessly into the
deepest currents of his creed, in
spired by a courage born of despair. It
is the same spirit that urges on the
wretch who is courting suicide. Mr.
Presbrey cried out in horrified accents,
checking the bitter flow of words:
"Stopi You do not know what you
are saying. Listen to me, my boy.”
"I won’t listen! I’m forever damned.
bo what’s the use. Le.t me out of here!
Come on. Mary!”
He made a rush for the door, drag
ging his sister after him. Mr. Blagden
leaped up from his chair and put him
self between them and the door.
"You go back there at once, sir. and
beg Mr. Presbrey’s pardon," he hissed,
grasping the boy by the arm. "What
will he think of you? Where are your
manners 7”
Eric whirled and threw himself into
a chair, burying his face in his arms,
a great wall of anguish escaping his
lips, to be followed an Instant later by
a rusk of sobs.
Mr. Presbrey sprang to his feet, an
exalted look in his face. He lifted his
eyes and clasped his hands In the
ecstasy of spiritual triumph.
"Glory be to God! Praise the Lord!”
ha cried in thrilling tones. “He Is
saved! He has seen the light! The
spirit of evil is broken! Praise the
Lord! Let us give thanks for the sign!
Let us bow our heads In prayer.”
He fell upon his knees beside the
quivering boy and lifted his voice in
prayer. The others stood with bowed
heads, even Chetwynd being carried
away by the rush of the conquerors.
Little Mary, clinging to the doorknob
stood transfixed, gazing In helpless as
tonishment at the picture.
Later, the two children were led to
their room by Mrs. Blagden herself, at
tended by the soulful Mrs. Presbrey.
"Go to sleep, you poor dears,” jaid
the former, tears of emotion In her
voice. "You will feel better In the
morning. It will all come right in the
end. Try to believe all that Mr. I’res
brey has said to you. He knows best.
He will be your best friend."
Perhaps If Rena Blagden had never
come to Corinth to live she would have
been a different woman—a gentler one.
"Mr. Presbrey will come to see you
In the morning, children,” said Mrs.
Presbrey. “Keep a brave heart and
put your trust in the Lord. He will
give you strength." Then to Mrs.
Blagden, as that lady gently closed
the door on the children: "Don’t you
think you’d better lock the door, my
dear?”
CHAPTER IV.
THE ENTRANCE OF ADAM CARR
Mr. Presbrey came the next day and
for many days thereafter with a reg
ularity that deserved something more
(I was about to say better) than the
mere salvation of two small souls.
Sometimes he got It, and sometimes
he didn't. It allv depended on what
Mrs. Blagden had' in the house.
In any event, he was sincere in the
task unto which he had set himself. I
am not trying to make Mr. Presbrey
out a hyprocylte. He was not that. He
honestly, firmly believed that he was
following the dictates of a Christian
spirit In bedevilling the heart sick boy
with his words of advice, and caution,
and consolation. At least, there was
attached to his prerogative all the vir
tues to be found In good wool—It wore
well and did not shine.
Eric, after the effects of that cruel
night had washed themselves away In
tears, rose manfully to the exigencies
of Ills position. He turned to Mary,
forgetting his own troubles In the re
solve to lessen hers. She could not
fall to respond to the strength and
earnestness of his devotion. Young as
she was, she recognized the spirit of
unselfishness, the real heroism that
moved him to think first of her, then
of himself. She was never to forget
the first few days following that
wretched awakening. Somehow, It
came to lier that Brio was a grown
man and a strong one, with the will
and the power to stand between her
und all adversity, all things cruel and
unkind.
Together, they submitted to the Im
portunities of the good pastor, endur
ing with a grace that had all the
marks of a patient sullenness. They
were temporarily broken; they had no
power of Initiative; they could not
even nourish the resentment that
strove so hard to grow In their
ploughed, harrowed hearts. They lis
tened numbly to the unceasing repeti
tion of such sentences as these, com
ing not only from the Fresbrevs, but
their uncle and aunt as well:
"It Is all for the best, my dears.”
“You will thank us some day."
"God Is good. He will show you the
way."
"A contrite heart, etc.”
"You must not be allowed to follow
In the footsteps of your unhappy fath
er, Eric?"
"We would not be doing our Chls
tlan duty if we failed to warn you
against the impulses that wrecked your
misguided mother.”
"Your uncle knows best. Eric?"
"Your aunt knows best. Mary."
"Mr. Presbrey knows best, children."
These, and other concomitants of
woe.
Chetwynd's oft-repeated fling was
this, with appropriate variations:
"You’re a nice one to talk, you are.”
The older boy never missed the op
portunity to grill his wretched victim
with scornful allusions to "the Mid
thorne courage,” "the Midthorne hon
or," "the Midthorne virtue," “the Mid
thorne prospects.”
Erie's half hour with that unfor
tunate, though kindly prevaricator,
Jabex Carr, was one that the old man
was not likely to forget, even In his
years of falling memory. The boy
burst In upon him while the Ignoble
wounds In his heart were still fester
ing, and his pathetic arraignment of
the old seaman was the very essence of
gall. He did not blame, but rather
thanked the old man for his deliberate
deception, and yet there was that In
his words which compelled Jabez to
look upon himself as the veriest black
guard unhung, the roost misguided fool
alive. For days thereafter, the bluff
old fellow moped; and when he was not
moping, he was cursing hlinself; and
when he was not doing that he was
cursing Horace Blagden. I will not
attempt to enumerate the countless
and varied devices practiced by the
old man to win back the confidence of
his young friend, nor will I try to de
scribe hla alternating moods as these
devices prospered or shriveled. This
6
murh I will say: He became a very
dull and uninteresting story teller for
the obvious reason that he maintained
a strict nnd rigid adherenre to the
truth. His veracity was truly oppres
sive. The days of the pirates were
over. In their Btead were common
place narratives In which he seldom
performed anything more heroic than
the swabbing of a deck, or, perhaps, an
encounter with an obstinate pawn
broker. As time went on, the two
children began to look upon him as a
very tiresome and unprofitable per
son. Finally, one day, long after his
regenerate period began, the anxious
anticipation In Mary's starved soul
burst its bonds, and she almost
wailed:
"Uncle Jabe, why don’t you tell us
any more grand stories?”
"Because," said he, "it ain’t right to
tell lies.”
"But how would wo know they were
lies?”
"You can alius tell when a feller’s
lyin’, if you once ketch him in one,”
quoth he.
"Weil, they are lots of fun, Just the
same, protested Bhe. "Ain't they,
Eric?”
“Yes,” said Eric rather gravely, "if
you tell ’em in fun.”
"I’ll tell ’em all you like,” said Jabez,
Ills face brightening, "if you’ll promise
to believe they’re lies.”
"Then, how will we kno’tf when
you’re telling the truth?”
lie pondered. After five puffs at his
pipe, he said: "Well, if I begin by
sayin’ they’re the God’s truth, you can
believe ’em. If I don’t say that, you’ll
know they’re lies.”
And bo it was that old Jabez came
Joyously into his own again.
This narrative, with your permission,
kind reader, has little more to do with
the Mtdthornes as small children. Suf
fice to say, they were more or less like
other children in this respect; they
could not remain young forever. They
had to grow up. In passing, it may
be stated that the sage counsel of old
Jabez alone kept Eric from running
away from the grey house on the hill
In those early days of shame and re
sentment.
"You can’t afford to do that, sonny,”
he announced. “Jest put It right out
of your head, once and for all. If you
was alone In the world, I'd say skip.
But you ain’t. You got to look out for
Mary. It’s plumb foolish to talk about
takin" her with you. That would be
the quickest way to send her to the
gutter. I know It goes against the
groin to stay up there with them peo
ple. but It’s a derned sight better’n
starvin’ to death on the streets. You
jest stick It out. You wouldn't be so
crool as to skip out and leave her there
for them to pester and bulldoze. They’d
make a drudge of her, and worse'n
that, maybe. You'd bo a mortal cow
ard to run oft and leave her, and you
jest can’t take her with you. No, slree,
my boy. You stick It out. Stand by
your guns. Just you wait a few years
I know what I’m talkin’ about. Yoh
see, I run away when I was 15 and
went to sea. I wished a thousand
times I hadn’t, ’cause my stepfather
was nasty mean to my sisters and my
mother.”
He hesitated for a moment and then
went on. You wait a few years and
then you can tell ’em to go to hell."
After a few reflective pulls at his pipe,
he vouchsafed: "And, mind you, Eric,
there is such a place as hell."
Eric, at 16, was as handsome a lad
as you’d see In a week’s Journey. He
was growing with a steadiness that
promised a good six feet at man’s
estate, and he was as straight and as
strong as a young sapling, and as
lithe and graceful as an Indian. He ex
celled at all the games In which
strength, agility and quick wlttedness
were paramount In baseball, football,
skating, racing and sailing he was a
leader because he was an adept; be
cause, while fearless, he was never
headstrong; while conscious of his
natural superiority, he was not arro
gant. It was not unusual for him to
step aside to give a less accomplished
friend the chance to carry oft honors
that might easily have been his. This
trait did not go unrecognized, nor was
it unappreciated by his companions.
An extremely uncommon condition
marked this attitude toward him on
all occasions; instead of boasting of
their own prowess, they freely ad
mitted that “Eric Midthorne could do
better than that if he half tried.” Nor
was there the faintest touch of Jealousy
or envy In their summing up of his
deeds.
The gentle, pleasant ways of the
southland were strong in him; ho
was prone to resent an affront with
vigor, and as quick to repent. The hot
blood In his veins was hard to control,
but ho always had the better of It.
There was no Indignity so grave that
he could not deflect it without losing
his temper entirely. He was afraid of
the shadow that stalked beside him;
the shadow he had inherited. If others
knew the story of Ills antecedents, they
were generous enougn to keep the
knowledge to themselves. In all the
years he lived in Corinth, no one out
side his owr. family, the Presbreys and
old Jabez, spoke to him of his father
and mother. Ho knew that they knew,
and he was deeply sensible of their
well meant restraint. Their kindly re
ticence had a sting, however; there
was no minute in his life that his pride
was not being hurt by the knowledge
that they were being generous.
He was In the high school of Co
rinth. a leader in his classes as well
as in the sports of the season. In
two years he would enter Harvard.
Mary, quite the prettiest girl in town,
was his pride and Joy, and constant
care. She was gay, volatile, and deeply
sensitive to the approach of slights and
criticism, from which, when they came,
she was quick to recover. She had him
to lean upon, to look up to in case of
trouble, and It is not surprising that
the eternal feminine in her took ad
vantage of that very stable support.
Chetwynd was in Harvard, where
he was trying for the crew and eleven,
and for very little else. If Eric had
entertained the hope that he might
grow big enough and strong enough to
“thrash" his bully of a cousin, he was
likely to be disappointed. Chetwynd
was a perfect young giant; he was
the real and visible lord of “the giant’s
castle." There was no gainsaying that.
To the surprise of every one—his
father in particular—the indolent boy
developed Into a rugged, towering mass
of muscle and endurance. In his 20th
year he stood well over 6 feet and in
his rowing togs tipped the beam at 180
—which seemed to be Just what was
wanted at Harvard.
Can you picture Chetwynd? Is not
your imagination strong enough to see
him in all his physical glory? Have
you any doubts as to his attitude to
ward the lesser physiques of Corinth?
Given, a boy who has had arrogance
as a birthright, snobbishness as a prod
uct. and moral stealth as a necessity:
add two years of athletic triumph at
Harvard, and you have Chetwynd.
He went in for boxing and punching
I the bag. This was advised by his
i trainers. In college there were stal
warts who could maul him with im
punity—and science—because Chet
wynd really lacked moral stamina, but
when lie got back home for the sum
j mer vacation or the holidays he rev
elled in a perfect whirl of boxing glove
victories. It was never quite fair to
hit Chetwynd hard, but it was an edu
cation to be slammed vigorously by
this elegant expert.
"You’ve got to learn how to take it
some time,” was his usual response to
their objections," and the sooner .the
better. Be a man.”
Eric came In for some sound drub
bings in the name of science. He was
slighter and not so tall as his cousin,
but lie was gamer than the rest of th^
boys who “put on the gloves” with the
magnificent sophomore. While Erio
knew little of boxing as It is taught,
he could stand punishment for the
sport of the game—and he could in
flict it, too.
More often than not, Chetwynd was
compelled to remind him in the thick
of combat, that if lie couldn’t box like
a gentleman and not like a murderer
he would not "take him on” again.
Whereupon Eric, considerably depresed
and hurfc would lose much of Ills flerce
: 61'eetyintoxicathS
ness, and, as a result, received a les
son entirely satisfactory to Chetwynd.
“Oh, if I way only big enough!” the
boy cried time and again to old Jabez,
in announcing the result of his most
recent contest.
"You’ll grow sonny,” mused Jabea.
“He's a coward at heart, and If you
wasn’t so derned sensitive you could put
it all over him.”
One day, toward the close of the sum
mer vacation, Eric succeeded in draw
ing blood from Chetwynd's nose, and
In the fusillade that followed, landed a
blow which discolored the big boy’s
eyes—a most ignominious illumination.
Chetwynd, in wild rage, grappled with
his lighter antagonist, and, hurling him
to the ground, beat him unmercifully,
all the time calling him a murderer's
son—and even worse.
Eric, as usual, can-led his tale of woe
to the old seaman. He was bitterly la
menting his unhappy position in the
Blagden family, and the Insults he was
forced to endure, when a stranger ap
peared on the scene.
It was a warm September day, and
they were sitting on the bench under
the shade trees Just inside the gates to
the park. Eric was nursing a bruised
cheek and a twisted elbow. He had
experienced some difficulty In evading
his sister and Joan Bright, the one
girl in Corinth who held an undisputed
place in his loyal young heart. They
were playing croquet on the lawn and
he, in shame-faced defeat, had been
obliged to crawl over a back fence on
leaving the cellar—(where the boxing
contest took place)—In order to avoid
a meeting and certain explanations. He
would have given much to be able to
stride before Joan Bright, a victor
over the bully In whom, for reasons in
explicable to Eric, she professed to
have a marked Interest. Joan, by the
way, was the daughter of Judge Bright,
not quite 15 and amazingly pretty.
But, I am on the point of digressing.
It really doesn't matter about Joan at
this particular Juncture. She will come
In later, very handily. I'm sure. It is
only necessary to repeat that, by skilful
dodging, he managed to skirt the lawn
without coming face to face with the
girls, and reached the freindly bench
on which he and Jabez was found by
the stranger I came so near to over
looking. Which would have been a de
plorable oversight, as he is to have a
most Important part in the unravelling
of this tale.
He was stock, well-put-up sort of
man with a singularly hard and forbid
ding face, recently shaved; his cold
grey eyes were set far back In his head
and were shaded by straight, bushy
brows of black. His mouth was wide
and rather sinister In its expression.
There was a suggestion of a smile in
its corners, but not a smile of mirth;
rather one of derision. Eric’s first
glimpse of him came when he happened
to turn his eyes, as if urged by an im
pulse that was far from voluntary, In
the direction of the watch house by the
gate. The stranger, in his shirt sleeves
and smoking a short pipe, was leaning
In the doorway, Idly surveying the two
on the bench. The boy started for a
moment, the words dying on his lips.
It was the first time he had seen a
human being, other than old Jabez,
about the little house. He was at
once struck by the fact that the strang
er was quite at home and on familiar
terms with the gate keeper.
Eric never knew why It was, but he
suddenly found himself contrasting this
hard featured individual and the ascetic,
pious eyed tormentor of his soul, the
excellent Mr. Presbrey. He was aft
erward to enjoy the humor of that ludi
crous comparison.
"Oh,” said old Jabez, with a start,
"that’s my son Eric. He's stopping In
town for a week or two, so's he can
come over to spend his vacation with
me. Adam, come here and shake hands
with my young friend, Mr. Eric Mid
thorne."
The man came forward, extending his
hand. A half smile grew in his weather
beaten face.
(Continued next week.)
Hard at Work.
From Life.
"It seems a pity, my dear Miss Goth
am, that you New York society women
don’t give up more of your time to
raising money for the war sufferers.’’
“My dear Marjorie, how can you
say such a thing? Haven't I sat up
until 2 o’clock for three nights now
playing charity bridge?’’
The Empty Room.
The lock is rusty, the slow key grates—
Turn it more daringly, open the door!
Only a ghost at the threshold waits.
They that have crossed it cross it no
more.
Heavy the unbreathed air of the room—
Throw wide the casement, let the wind
blow;
Once it brought breath of roses in bloom.
Of tile dew of a morning long ago.
Speak low—there are presences here of
old.
Sighs and sorrows and sweet desires.
Falter of prayers, and wild tunes trolled.
And here love lighted his sacred fires.
The dreams that some woman haply
dreamed.
The smiles that shone on her tender
face.
Here where the moonlight over her
streamed,
Unseen, unshaped, still haunt the place.
For the tense sti .ng touched sings on
and on—
Do you hear music? A cradle song.
Lightsome laughter? The voice is gone.
But the soundless thrill still sings along.
Friend and lover, and man and wife.
The child’s sweet babble—stay, feel the
spell
The empty room brims over with life.
As you hear the sea sing in the shell)
—Harriet Prescott Spofford In Scribner’s.
High grade cattle fodder Is a new
French product from tomato seeds. The
seeds are Jned In a furnace, Blfted to
remove wood fiber, crushed by heated
millstones, freed from oil in s hydraulic
I press and compressed into four-pouad
I loaves.
LOW BOUND TRIP FARES TO
CALIFORNIA'S EXPOSITIONS
ANO THE PACIFIC COAST
I.ow round trip fares are now in
effect via the Scenic Highway of the
Northern Pacific Ry. to California’s Ex
positions via the North Pacific Coast.
I hese tickets permit liberal stop-overs
and enable the tourist to include both
Expositions as well as a stop-over at
j Yellowstone National Park via Gardi
; ner Gateway.
j If you will advise when you will plan
your western trip, I will be pleased to
quote rates, send a copy of our 'hand
some Expositions folder as well as
Yellowstone National Park and travel
literature, and assist you in any way
possible in planning your 1915 vaca
tion trip. A. M. Cieland, General Pas
senger Agent, 517 Northern Pacific
Ry., St. Paul, Minnesota.—Adv.
Proof Positive.
‘‘How are you today, John?” said a
landlord to one of his tenants, whom
he met on the street.
“Vera weel, sir, vera weel,” an
swered John, in his usual way, “if it
wisna for the rheumatism in my right
leg.”
“Ah, well, John, be thankful; for
there is no mistake, you are getting
old like the rest of us, and old age
does not come alone.”
“Auld age, sir!” replied John. “I
wonder to ’ear ye. Auld age has nae
thing to do wi’t. Here’s me ither leg
jist as auld, and it is quite sound and
soople yet.”—Youth’s Companion.
youR own rmuGGisT WTT.r, tki.i. you
lry Murine Eye Remedy for Red, Weak, Watery
Eyes and Granulated Eyelids; No Smarting
lust Eye comfort. Write fo«* Hook of the Eye
by mail Free. Murine Eve Remedy Co., Chicago.
Have Sharp Ears.
“Women are not good listeners.”
“Evidently you’ve never had much
ixperience with female help."
Nothing kindles the fire of suspicion
luicker than an unnecessary explana
tion.
MRS, WILLIAMS’
LONG SICKNESS
Yields To Lydia E. Pink*
ham’s Vegetable
Compound.
Elkhart, Ind.“1 suffered for four
teen years from organic inflammation,
female weakness,
pain and irregulari
ties, The pains io
my sides were in
creased by walking
or standing on my
feet and I had such
bearing down
feelings, was de
pressed in spirits
and became thin and
pale with dull,heavy
eyes. I had six doc
tors from whom I received only tempo
rary relief. I decided to give Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound a fair
trial and also the Sanative Wash. I have
now used the remedies for four month*
and cannot express my thanks for what
they have done for me.
“If these lines will be of any benefit
you have my permission to publish
them.” —Mrs. Sadie Williams, 455
James Street, Elkhart, Indiana.
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound, made from native roots and herbs,
contains no narcotic or harmful drugs,
and to-day holds the record of being the
most successful remedy for female ills
we know of, and thousands of voluntary
testimonials on file in the Pinkham
laboratory at Lynn, Mass., seem to
prove this fact.
If you have the slightest doubt
that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound will help you, write
to Lydia E.Pinkham MedicineCo.
(confidential) Lynn.M ass., for ad
vice. Your letter will be opened,
read and answered by a woman,
and held in strict confidence.
- - -'cthei ]
kj a 11 ALCOHOL-3 PER CENT 1
II AVegefabie Preparation for As - \
M, Promotes Digestion,Cheerful
fj ness and Rest. Contains neither
Opium .Morphine nor Mineral
to Not Narcotic
^ Kkcipt of Old DrSAMV£imtff£Jl
Q|| Pumpkin S*od -
t>% AlxSehn* * \
Li * PothfUeSaKs -» I
||* AmuSttd *
ol ftpptrminl • V
JiiCmiiutUSodi* •* i
I WormS€,d - ft
UL I
JqQ lmnaryrttn rfavor f
\^0 A perfect Remedy forConsiipa
$i® lion. Sour Stomach,Diarrhoea,
Mfi Worms .Convulsions .Feverish
ly 5 ness and Loss OF SLEEP
® Fac Simile Signature of
|| G&tffZ&Z
The Centaur Company.
Mi NEW YORK,
i$ ■nrTffirMlif If II in
*
Exact Copy of Wtapper.
f
For Infanta and Children.
Mothers Know That
Genuine Castoria
Thirty Years
Rheumatism
Muscle Colds
“It is easy to use and quick to respond. No work. Just |
I apply. It penetrates without rubbing.”
« Read What Others Say:
"Have used your Liniment very •ucceaafully in a case of rheumatism, and
always have a bottle on hand in f
case of a cold or sore throat. I f
wish to say I think it one of
the best of household remedies. I
would not have used it only it was
recommended to me by a friend of 0
mine who, I wish to say, is one of jjj
the best boosters for your Liniment
C5j I ever saw.”—J. IF. Fuller, Denver, j
m CoL I !
^ “Just a line in praise of Sloan’s |
jV Liniment. I have been ill nearly
fourteen weeks with rheumatism*
■0, have been treated by doctors who
did their best. I had not slept for
the terrible pain for several nights*
when my wife got me a small bottle
of the Liniment and three applica
cations gave me relief so that I could
sleep.’*—Joseph Tamblyn, 616 Con
verse Street, McKeesport, Pa. | \
SLOANS
LINIMENT
I Good for Neuralgia, Sciatica, Sprains and Bruises, j
I All Dealers 25c.
8 Send fear cents in stamp* for a free TRIAL BOTTLE.
I DR. EARL S. SLOAN, Inc. Dept. B Philadelphia Pa. |
