Not a Bite of
■ Breakfast Until
You Drink Water
Say* a glass of hot water and
phosphate prevents Illness
and keeps us fit.
Just as coal, when It burns, leaves
behind a certain amount of incom
bustible material in the form of ashes,
so the food and drink taken day after
day leaves in the alimentary canal a
certain amount of indigestible mate
rial, which if not completely eliminat
ed from the system each day, becomes
food for the millions of bacteria which
infest the bowels. From this mass of
left-over waste, toxins and ptomaine
like poisons are formed and sucked
into the blood.
Men and women who can’t get feel
ing right must begin to take inside
baths. Before eating breakfast each
morning drink a glass of real hot wa
ter with a teaspoonful of limestone
phosphate in it to wash out of the
thirty feet of bowels the previous day's
accumulation of poisons and toxins
and to keep the entire alimentary
canal clean, pure and fresh.
Those who are subject to sick head
ache, colds, biliousness, constipation,
others who wako up with bad taste,
foul breath, backache, rheumatic stiff
ness, or have a sour, gassy stomach
after meals, are urged to got a quarter
pound of limestone phosphate from
any druggist or storekeeper, and be
gin practicing internal sanitation.
This will cost very little, but is suffi
cient to make anyono an enthusiast
on the subject.
Remember inside bathing is more
important than outside bathing, be
cause the skin pores do not absorb
Impurities into the blood, causing poor
health, while the bowel pores do.
•Just as soap and hot water cleanses,
sweetens and freshens the skin, so
hot water and limestone phosphate
act on the stomach, liver kidneys and
bowels.—Adv.
Times Change.
"What? You need new clothes
ngaln? When I was a boy I wasn't
ashamed to wear garments thut were
patched.’’
“Yos, dad, but you know you didn’t
associate with such refined people as
I do."
No sick headache, sour stomach,
biliousness or constipation
by morning.
Get a 10-cent box now.
Turn the rascals out—the headache,
’biliousness, indigestion, the sick, sour
stomach and foul gases—turn them
-out to-night and keep them out with
Cascarets.
Millions of men and women take a
Cascaret now and then and never
know the misery caused by a lazy
liver, clogged bowels or an upset stom
ach.
Don’t put In another day of distress.
Det Cascarets cleanse your stomach;
remove the sour, fermenting food;
take the excess bile from your liver
and carry out all the constipated
waste matter and poison In the
bowels. Then you will feel great.
A Cascaret to-night straightens you
out by morning. They work while
you sleep. A 10-cent box from
any drug store means a clear head,
sweet stomach and clean, healthy liver
and liowel action for months. Chil
dren love Cascarets because they
never gripe or sicken. Adv.
ASrrfonition Applied.
"Young man, don't you know that
Ks fetter to bo alone than in bad
bmpany?"
"Yes, sir. Good-by, sir.”
A GRATEFUL OLD LADY.
Mrs. A. G. Clemens, West Alexan
der, Fa., writes: I have used Dodd’s
Kidney Fills, also Diamond Dinner
Fills. Before using them I had suf
fered for a number of
years with backache,
also tender opctc aa
spine, and had at
times black floating
specks before my
eyes. I also had lum
bago and heart trou
ble. Since using this
medicine I have been
Mr».A.G.Clemens reileve(j of my 8uf.
fering. It is agreeable to mo for
you to publish this letter. 1 am glad
to have an opportunity to say to all
who are suffering as I have done that
1 obtained relief by using Dodd's Kid
ney Pills and Diamond Dinner Pills.
Dodd’s Kidney Fills 50c per box at
your dealer or Dodd’s Medicine Co.,
Buffalo, N. Y. Dodd’s Dyspepsia Tab
lets for Indigestion have been proved.
50c per box.—Adv.
Woman's silence signifies more
than a man's because it is much less
frequent.
Mot Gray Hairs t,nt Tired Eye*
make ■» look older than we are. Keep
vour Eyes young and you will look young.
After the Movies Murine Tour Eye*. Don’t
I i! your age. Murine Eye Remedy Co.,
Chicago, Sends Eye Book on request.
Speaking of educated snakes, the
idder's in a class by himself.
"Then that, is votir final decision,
Alice?"
“It is. I will not be circumscribed
in my choice of acquaintances by any
man's approbation or aversion, even
though I am betrothed to him."
Alice Thornton loved society, and.
like all its lovers, had a strong pro
pensity for the admiration of its most
popular devotees of the opposite sex.
Laurence Gerald a few weeks previous
made his appearance in that town, and
being reputed wealthy, ami possessing
, an elegant manner, with a handsome
form and countenance, had gained an
easy access to the fashionable circle.
Henry Clifford, the lover of Alice,
had marked the particular attention
bestowed on his betrothed by the new
comer, and had made special inquiries
in regard to Ills character. He could
learn nothing definite, but was con
vinced that Lawrence Gerald was not
what he was represented to be. A
number of times lie had warned Alice
j to be careful liowr she encouraged his
attentions.
j Wayward and willful, Alice had dis
regarded his caution, and now the wily
tempter began to wind his coils around
her heart—not that t>.e love of Alice
for Henry Clifford was on the wane,
but there was a fascination about, the
other which seemed irresistible.
Many of both sexes, even when
united by a bond held sacred by the law
of both God and man, have conic in con
tact at some time with one w ho has
charmed the thoughts away fora season,
from loyalty to their companion and
the attachment of home.
‘.‘If yon are not jealous.” continued
Alice, “you would have no objection to
my accompanying Mr. Gerald for a
ride to-morrow. You did not inter- j
pose any objections last week, when I 1
accompanied Mr. Walsh in his drive. :
Besides, there is always a man servant |
present.”
Ilir IUMH, i uu nut
wish to trifle in this matter. If r should
permit you to receive the attentions of j
one whose character is. to say the least,
suspicious, I should not be doing inv i
duty to either you or myself; and that I
Mr. Gerald’s character is suspicious I
have vo doubt. From what I have
heard he is no tit companion for a lady
of my love."
“Only a stratagem of yours,” lightly
replied Alice, “to have me discard him
from my train. But it is of no avail.
I must have more than hearsay to con
vince mo.”
“Then you are going to-morrow?”
“Yes," was the pettish answer, “and,
more than that, shall henceforth con
sider myself free. I shall not be ham
pered by a promise that confers a right
on any man to dictate what 1 shall or
What I shall not do.”
“Alice,” said her lover, “think of
What you are doing. I do not wish
you to deprive yourself of the pleasure
or confine yourself to my society. I
have never been au exacting lover, and
1 have now only your welfare at heart.”
“You are very considerate,” was the
reply; “but my intellect is not compre
hensive enough to appreciate it. I
hope the next time you call you will bo
in a loss contradictory mood.”
“1 imagine that is a hiut that my
presence is no longer endurable?” an
swered her companion, in return to the
last sentence.
“If you wish to interpret my mean
ing so,” was the unfeeling rejoinder.
“Good evening, Alice.”
“Good evening, Henry; call the day
after to-morrow, and 1 will give you a
description of to-morrow’s entertain
ment.”
He made no reply, but departed.
Alice saw him pass down the walk, re
lumed to the room, threw herself on the
lofa, and was lost in thought. She
felt that she had been hasty in dis
lolving her engagement; for,' in truth,
sho really oared more for her lover
than she had been willing to admit.
Her feeling for the other man she
know was similar to the emotion with
which wo listen to a new pieco of
music—charming while the novelty
lasts, but no sooner is that gone than
the power of attraction is over. Her
willfulness had caused little breaches
between them before, but she had never
failed, when they met, to bring him to
her side again and effect a reconcilia
tion. She trusted that the present breach
would terminate the same way.
The next day Alice went with Mr.
Gerald but did not enjoy herself as
much as she anticipated.' On return
ing home sho resolved that a note
should be sent to her discarded lover
the next day inviting Him to call, when
she would make a clean breast of it
mil break off her connection with Mr.
I Gerald. The note bad been dispatched
but half an hour when the evening
' paper arrived. Opening it she ran her
| Byes down the columns and came to the
fallowing notice:
“Sailed this morning, at 11 a. in., the
iteamship Morning Light, for San
Francisco. Several residents from this
town were among the passengers. Mr.
Henry Clifford, very unexpectedly to
Ivis friends, resigned his position in the
Custom House and tas& Massage. May
fortune •tw£®Sti!3KS,£22S52ila of
the WeA."
• • e e •
Ten veare BMM&. •pnrious
salons of Mrs. Hexford were filled with
the elite of the town. The hostess was
promenading the room, leaning on the
arm of a tall man with a brouzed com
plexion. By her atteution she ap
peared to ho very much interested in an
account lie was giving of a narrow es
cape from a baud of robbers while pass
ing between one of the mining dis
tricts and a city of California.
Another arrival—a rather late one—
announced. The gentleman paused at
the appearance of the newcomers, anil
bent a quick, searching glance toward
one of the ladies of the company, hut
seemed disappointed at the utterance
of the name, as he immediately re
sumed his narrative, the hostess, after
the reception, returning to his side.
The recital of his adventure elided,
and the party last arrived having
recognized and spoken to their ac
quaintances. Mrs. Hexford wended her
way to where the lady, who she noticed,
hail been fallowed by the eyes of her
companion, was standing.
“Mies Burdeuott, permit me to in
troduce to your acquaintance my
friend—recently from California—Alt-.
Clifford,” said Mrs. Hexford, pre.vsnt
I ing the latter.
“Miss—Miss Burdenott,” mused
Henry Clifford. “If Mrs. Rexford had
said Mrs. Burdenott. I should say she
was the once Alice Thornton."
Miss Burdenott took Mr. Clifford's
! arm.
“Miss Burdenott," said the latter, by
way of opening the conversation, “yoii
: remind me of a friend I had some
I years ago, and, were it not for your
; name, I should believe you were the
j same allowing for changes wrought by
j time.”
He felt a slight quivering of the hand
j resting on his arm, but did not attri
[ luite its origin to what he said. With
out waiting a reply, he continued.
“However, in features the likeness is
complete; but in the expression I can
sec some difference.”
He ceased speaking, and receiving
no answer, lie cast Ins eyes towards
her countenance, and noticed that it
was pale. Surprised, he changed the
subject. Soou after ho surrendered
her arm to an acquaintance; but his
eye still wandered in her direction, and
his mind recurred to the effect of his
observations. Once or twice her eyes
met his, but she would instantly di-op
them, or turn some other way.
He retired from Mrs. Rexford’s
house, bewildered. During all of his
years of absence lie had not heard from
Alice Thornton, and lie supposed that
she had long since become tlie wife of
another. Miss Burdenott’s resem
blance to his early love recalled the
past, and, but for the name, he would
have addressed her as his yet loved
Alice.
Moved by conflicting thoughts, he
entered his own room and threw Him
self in a chair.
“What if Alice repented of the course
she was pursuing when I left? What if
she lias waited all these years, hoping
for my return? But no, It cannot be. j
Ten years is a long time. The thought ;
is a chimera, and I will dismiss it as !
such,” were the reflections that coursed
through his brain.
rri.c r..ii:_. a _
oustomed to exposure and tired of his
confinement, after dinner ho sauntered j
forth. Everywhere enterprise had pro
il need change. Dwellings had been
changed into huge warehouses.
He was thinking of the change when
a little hand wras put before hitii and a •
childish voice said: “Please give me
something to buy some coals and some
thing to eat. Ma hasn’t had anything ;
to eat since yesterday.”
Casting down his eyes he beheld a
slight, frail iiguro 'scantily clothed. |
Having a taste for adventure lie in
quired: “Where docs ma live?”
Being informed, he told the little one I
he would accompany her. Pleased with I
his readiness, she moved off briskly, j
He was conducted to a narrow' street, I
through a short alley, up two flights j
of stairs, and ushered into a room, j
Scanning it hastily he saw that the
meagre furniture was tidy, and that a
woman, wasted by disease, was lying j
on a bed in one corner. No tire was !
burning, and the room was cold and |
cheerless.
Taking out a piece of money, he
asked his little guide if she could go to
the nearest shop and order some wood
and coal, and something to cat, and
have them sent in immediately. Wait
ing a few moments, the needed articles
arrived, aud taking the wood, with His
own hands, lie soon had a cheerful lire
blazing in the grate. He was on the
point of starting out in quest of a
physician when the door opened, and
another girl, evidently a couple of years
older than the one with him, entered,
accompanied by a muffled lady bear
ing a basket. The lady on beholding
a man bending in front of the grate, at
first drew back; but as he rose, she
recognized Him. moved forward, and,
throwing off the hood of her cloak, ex
claimed, “Mr. Clifford!”
“Miss Burdenott!” was the response.
A few words sufficed to explain that
tho sick woman was one with whose
circumstances Miss Burdenott had be
come familar, and had employed as a
seamstress. Miss Burdenott having
been away from the town some time,
and having returned only the day be
fore, had not learned until that morn
ing of the woman’s helpless condition.
Mr. Clifford, with alacrity, procured
a physician, and when he returned the
sick woman was drinking a cup of tea.
After the departure of the physician,
and when the woman was comforta
ble, they took two of the four rickety
chairs, sat down bv the lire aud talked
i : r i... ! i /
GAVE MAMMA AWAY.
Caller—Won’t you walk with me aa tar as the car?
Tommy (aged .)—Can't.
Caller—Why not?
Tommy—'Cos wo've eolr.' to have lunch aa aoon as you go.
I as familiarly as if they had been ac
quainted for years, instead of having
met. only the night previous.
Two hours glided away and at last
darkness began to set in. Mi3s Bur
denott rose hastily, saying that she
must return home or search would be
made for her. Mr. Clifford proffered
himself as escort, and was accepted.
He offered to obtain a fly, but as the
snow had ceased to fall, the lady said
she preferred walking. Arriving at
her residence, she invited him to
enter. Passing to her room a few
moments, on her return he was struck
more than ever with her resemblance
to Alice.
Alice—for Miss Burdenott was no
other than Alice Thornton—noticed
his perplexed gaze, and then tendered
an explanation. Her mother’s only
brother was opposed to his sister's mar
riage with her father, and at his death,
her mother and futher both being dead,
had made a will leaving his wealth to
her, with the proviso that she should
adopt the maiden name of her mother.
She told him of the note she had for
warded tlie day he started for Cali
fornia; her surprise. mortification and
sorrow when she learned he had gone;
her hope that he would return at some
subsequent time; her patient waiting,
determined to live single until she
either heard of his death or that her
place in his heart had been filled by
another.
“Our experience inthe past.” he said,
folding her in his arms, “will qualify
us the better for enjoyment in the
future.”
ner eyes, beaming with love and
happiness, were raised towards his, and
lips touched hers as she softly whis
pered, “Lost and won.”—N. Y. World.
CAUSE OF HIS DOWNFALL
The Bargain Counter Was Responsi
ble for the Pink Shirt
Washington Star: He went to his
rlesk in tne treasury department one
day wearing a violently pink madras
shirt. It was solid pink, without a break
anywhere. It is true that he1 had tried
to hide it all under a big black neck
tie, but some of It shone through the
openings of his waistcoat at the neck.
Even that little was sufficient to cause
a commotion. The women In the room
looked shocked and the men began to
confer about the matter in a mysteri
ous manner as If an unhealthy intruder
hcd come into their midst. Finally one
of them edged up to him and asked:
“Anything the matter at home?”
He couldn't understand the question,
but he said that everything was all
right.
"How much did you win or lose last
night?” another one asked, after he had
moved up in an awe-stricken manner.
“On what?” he asked, but received
no reply to his question, and his in
terrogator merely looked at him in a
sad kind of way.
"Playing the races by wire, are you?”
inquired a third one of his friends, who
had curiously kept aloof from him, ex
cept to edge around and ask one of
these apparently silly questions.
"I don’t play the races, and you
know it,” he said, “and why all this
fool business among you people?"
Nothing more was said for a while,
and then a fourth friend walked
around and inquired:
“Promoting pugilists now, keeping a
pawn shop or living a double life?”
This question was sufficient for him
to demand an explanation, and then
his friends gathered and explained to
him that this terrible pink shirt had
caused those who knew him to fear
that he was either losing his mind or
had at last become a sport in the full
est sense of the word.
Then for the first time he felt the
degradation that had fallen upon him.
With tears in his eyes, and gathering
himself together, he madft this state
ment:
“My downfall is due to bargain days
In the stores. These bargains are the
cause of womankind and mankind. I
saw where a certain store was selling
$1.50 shirts for 39 cents. That was too
tempting, and I went to see the shirts.
The salesman demurred when I told
him they were too red. ‘They Just suit
your complexion,’ he said, ‘and they
are the best bargains we ever offered.
We are selling them merely because
they are broken lots and because their
color Is a little strong. But all fashion
able men wear them.’ All this had noth
ing to do with it, however. The thought
of getting $1.50 for 39 cents was too
much, and I bought something I didn’t
need or want. Then I concluded to
wear the shirt just to get something out
of it. I realize that I have done wrong,
and I ask my friends to remember the
cause of this downfall.”
When he finished a great splotch of
tears fell down on his table of figures
on treasury appropriations and he
sobbed aloud.
■a.v.'mn.i1...i i.i.i- i.-t, i.»
SEASON OF PERIL.
- I
Di course everybody knows that a
grip year is a season of peril for old
people and drunkards. Is it a season
of truce for babies? No. The Chicago
health department bulletin, dated (
Christmas day. 1915, tells us what ,
killed the babies in 1914.
Leading the list was diarrhoea. !
Rather a close second was congenital
defects and accidents of birch—the
babies who died before they had well
begun. A close third came cold and
pneumonia.
Colds and pneumonia killed 1,336
babies in 1914, while all such forms of
contagion as Whooping cough, measles,
scarlet fever and diphtheria only killed
235.
At this season of the year colds and
pneumonia kill more Imbies than does
diarrhoea, teething, or anything else.
Diarrhoea is the summer terror to the
mother of a young baby. Colds and
pneumonia are her winter terrors. j
Is this death rate necessary? No.
The mothers who take courses on in
ftint care in the public schools, in
lave-a-Little-Longer leagues, who at
tend the Infant Welfare stations, or
who study the subject In books know
how to prevent summer complaint in
their babies.
There are parts of every city where
there is practically no baby death rate
front summer complaint.
The next step is to get mothers
equally interested in preventing colds
and pneumonia in babies. Grown peo
ple get much of their pneumonia from
crowds, babies, except hospital babies,
do not get pneumonia from crowds.
Babies do catch colds from other pco- !
pie. The older children come home
from school with colds nr the father gets
a cold at the office. The chance is ex
cellent that the susceptible baby will
have a cold a few days later. |
The first lesson for the mother to J
learn is that colds should be quaran- ,
lined out of the nursery. No easy job,
I admit, where there are several chil- f
dren and the house is small and tho t
servants few.
Babies catch colds from overheated
rooms. If a young baby develops a eold
the chance is that the cause is some
thing other than an ordinary infection.
A physician should be called at once,
as the probability is that the baby has
a serious congenital disease.
After the first week in the summer
time and after the first month at other
seasons of the year the baby should
have some open air during every day
that is at all fit.
rTvhf» torriDorntnrfi flu* vinroorp
should be several degrees lower than I
adults permit of. Temperatures over j
70 which adults stand for months j
without serious disadvantage cause !
babies to get a cold within a few j
days. Perhaps the reason is that every !
adult not a shut in gets a bit of open '
air every day. The baby is a shut in
unless somebody makes it a business
to see that it is not. The windows of
the nursery should be opened and the
air flushed out at short intervals.
♦ ♦♦♦■♦♦■♦♦♦ + ♦ + +> + ♦♦ ♦
♦ ♦
♦ RECIPES FOR USE OF COCOA. ♦
♦ ^.. . +
To the housewife who must rack her
brains every day to think of something
new to make in the line of desserts, .t
will prove something of a pleasant sur
prise to learn that the introduction of
cocoa, instead of chocolate, in certain
desserts not only brings a new taste
into the product, but is often of greater
convenience to the maker. For what
kitchen has not a supply of coacoa?
Cut out these recipes and give them a
fair trial—and you’ll be as much sur
prised as pleased:
Cocoa Bread Pudding.
Use two cups of milk, one cup of
dried break broken into small pieces, 12
teaspoons (one and three-fourth
ounces) of pure cocoa, two eggs, one
third cup of sugar, one-fourth tea
spoon of salt, one-half teaspoon of
vanilla and four tablespoons of pow
dered sugar. Soak the bread in the
milk until very soft, then press through
a colander. Dissolve the cocoa in a lit
tle of the milk and mix with the bread,
Stir well, beat the yolks of the eggs
with the granulated sugar; add the salt
and mix these with the bread, milk and
cocoa. Pour into a pudding dish in a
pan of warm water. Bake in a moder
ate oven about half an hour—until firm
in the center, or, if tried with a knife,
the knife comes free from milk or egg.
Beat the whites of the eggs very stiff,
and slowly add the powdered sugar.
Place this meringue on top and brown
slightly. Serve hot or cold and with
or without whipped cream that has
been flavored and sweetened.
French Cocoa Pudding.
The Ingredients for French cocoa
pudding are: One-half box of gela
tine, six teaspoons (1 ounce) of pure
cocoa, one-half cup of cold water, one
cup of milk, one-half teaspoon of va
nilla, four teaspoons of sugar, one-half
cup of seeded raisins, one-fourth cup
of currants, one tablespoon of citron;
cut in small squares. Soak the raisins,
citron and cleaned currants in boiling:
water for half an hour. Soak the gel
atine in cold water for half an hour.
Melt the cocoa in hot water. Heat the
milk In double boiler and, when it is
hot, add the cocoa, sugar and gelatine.
Remove from the fire and strain all
into a bowl, add the fruit and, when
cool, add the vanilla; stir from time to
time until the mixture begins to stiffen,
then turn into a wet mold. Allow it
to stand in the refrigerator for several
hours, then turn it out xnd garnish
with whipped cream and a few candied
berries. It may, of course, be served
without cream.
Cocoa Bavarian Cream.
Use one-half cup of milk, one-half
pint of cream, two eggs, one-fourth box
of gelatine, one-third cup of sugar, six
teaspoons (one ounce) of pure cocoa,
one-third cup of cold water, one-half
teaspoon of vanilla. Soak the gela
tine in the cold water half nn hour;
melt the cocoa; heat the milk in a dou
ble boiler; beat the yolks and sugar
together; pour tire warm milk Into
these and mix well; return to the dou
ble boiler and stir until it thickens—
no longer. Remove from the fire, add
the gelatine, cocoa and vanilla; ther.
strain and let it cool. When it stiffens,
add the whipped cream and mix gently,
but thoroughly. Turn into a wet mold
and set in the refrigerator for several
hours. Turn out and serve; or. garnish
with more whipped cream, flavored and
sweetened _
Art Criticism.
From the Kansas City Star.
Among those visiting an art exhibition
held recently in town was an old fellow
who wandered about looking at the paint
ings with Interest. Finally lie stopped be
fore a portrait which showed a man sit
ting In a high-backed chair. Tacked to
tho frame was a small white placard read
ing: "A portrait of J. F. Jones, by him
self." , ,
The aged man read the card and then
chuckled sarcastically:•
■•Vot fools is dose art beoples. lie mut
tered. "Anybody dot looks at dot ph -
turc vould know dot Jones Is by hints,T
Nobody else is in der picture."
Some Sceecl Demons.
From Judge.
“What did you think of the motor car.
Fat?"
“I didn't see it."
"You didn't see it? Why, 1 saw you ai
the track."
"Yis, I was at the thrack; but I had to
wink just at the wrong toime. and wliia
I got through the race was over."
WHEN KIDNEYS ACT BAD
TAKE GLASS OF SALTS
Eat Less Meat If Kidneys Hurt or You 9
Have Backache or Bladder Misery V
—Meat Forms Uric Acid.
No man or woman who eats meat
regularly can make a mistake by flush
ing the kidneys occasionally, says a
well-known authority. Meat forms
uric acid which clogs the kidney porerf f
so they sluggishly filter or strain only: 1
part of the waste and poisons from )
the blood, then you get sick. Nearly w
all rheumatism, headaches, liver trou- I
ble, nervousness, constipation, dizzi- J
ness, sleeplessness, bladder disorders -4;
come from sluggish kidneys.
Tho moment you feel a dull ache in
the kidneys or your bock hurts, or if
the urine is cloudy, offensive, full of
sediment, irregular of passage or at-!
tended by a sensation of seeding, get
about four ounces of Jnd Salts from
any reliable pharmacy and take a
tablespoonful in a glass of water be-'
fore breakfast for a few days and your
kidneys will then act fine. This fa
mous salts is made from the acid of
?rapes and lemon juice, combined with
lithia and has been used for genera
tions to flush clogged kidneys andj
stimulate them to activity, also to neu-'
tralize the acids in urine so it no
longer causes irritation, thus ending]
bladder disorders.
Jad Salts is inexpensive and cannot
Injure; makes a delightful efferves-'
lent lithia-water drink which all reg
ilar meat eaters should take now and:
:hen to keep the kidneys clean and
;he blood pure, thereby avoiding se
•ious kidney complications.—Adv.
Test \
“What is a square ■seal?’'
“It’s one when you kin feel the cor-'
tiers stickin’ you.”
RECIPE FOR GRAY HAIR.
To half pint oi water add 1 oa Bay Rum, a
small box of Barbo Compound, and H oz. of
glycerine. Apply to the hair twice a week!
until it becomes the desired shade Any drug. J
gist can put this up or you can mix it &«
home at very little cost It mil gradually
darken streaked, faded gray hair, and re
moves dandruff It is excellent for falling \
hair and will make harsh hair soft and glossy. 1
It will not color the scalp, is not sticky or1 ]
greasy, and does not rub off.—Adv.
Too Many Such ‘‘Customers.”
Montague Glass, the creator of Pot
ts U and Perlmutter, says an acquaint
ance of his, a clothing manufacturer
on the East side of New York, re-'
ceived a call from a city salesman
representing a notions, trimming and
button house. The visitor began, to
spread out his samples.
“Put ’em up! Put ’em u-’” —
the manufacturer in a tired
man tone. “I wouldn’t care tc
nothing what you got."
“But, Mr. Cohen—”
“ 'S ’nough! I won’t look. Please
go away!”
The salesman gazed at him admir
ingly.
“Mr. Cohen,” he said, “I only wish
one thing—I wish I had only fifty cus
tomers like you.”
“I told you I didn’t wish to see noth
ing what you got.”
“Sure you did; and that’s why I says'
[ wish I had only fifty customers Like'
you. Instead, I got two hundred!
Saturday Evening Post.
Safely.
Johann, a soldier in a Bavarian,
r^andwehr regiment, seemed to have |
something on his mind. Finally he,
spoke up. "If I only knew what sort'
of humor the captain was in,” he said,
“I would ask him for a furlough." 1
"Well,” remarked Fritz, “there’s one p
thing about it. If yon go to him now,
at least he will not eat yon. This is'
one of the days when nobody ain't al
lowed to have meat.”
A GOOD CHANGE. T
A Change of Food Works Wonders. I
Wrong food and drink cause a lot of
trouble in this world. To change is
first aid when a person is ill, particu
larly from stomach and nervous trou
bles. As an Illustration: A lady in
Mo. was brought around to health
again by leaving off coffee and some
articles of food that did not agree with
her.
She says:
“For a number of years I suffered
with stomach and bowel trouble which
kept getting worse until 1 was ill
most of the time. About four years
ago I left off coffee and began using.
Postum. My stomach and bowels
improved right along, but I was so re
duced in flesh and so nervous that the
least thing would overcome me.
"Then I changed my food and began
using Grape-Nuts in addition to
Postum. I lived on these two princi
pally for about four months. Day by
day I gained in flesh and strength un
til the nervous trouble had disap
peared. I feel that I owe my health,
to Postum and Grape-Nuts. L
“Husband was troubled, for a long T
time, with occasional cramps, and
slept badly. Finally I prevailed upon;
him to leave off coffee and take1
Postum. After he tried Postum for
a few days he found that he could
sleep and that his cramps disappeared.
He never went back to coffee." Name
given by Postum Co., Battle Creek,
Mich.
Postum comes in two forms:
Postum Cereal—the original form—
must he well boiled. 15c and 25c
packages.
Instant Poctum—a soluble powder
dissolves quickly in a cup of hot wa
ter. and, with cream and sugar, makes
a delicious beverage instantly. 20c
and 50c tins. \
(loth kinds are equally delicious and I
cost about the seme per cup. '
'"There’s a Reason" f«r Pok: on.
—acid by Crowrs.
