BITRO-PHOSPHATE
IS GOOD FOR THIN
NERVOUSPEOPLE
A PHYSICIAN’S ADVICE.
Frederick S. Kolle, M. D. Editor of
New York Physicians' "Who’s Who,”
Bays that weak, nervous people who want
Increased weight, strength and nerve
force, should take a 6-grain tablet of
Bltro-Phosphato Just before or - during
each meal.
This particular phosphate Is the dis
cover}' of a famous French scientist, and
reports of remarkable results from Its
use have recently appeared In many
medical journals.
If you do not feel well; If you tire
easily; do not sleep well, or are too thin;
So to any good drugglet and get enough
iltro-Phosphatc for a two weeks’ sup
ply—It costs only fifty cents a week.
Eat less; chew your food thoroughly,
and If at the end of a few weeks you
do not feel stronger and better than you
have for months; If your nerves are not
steadier; If you do not sleep better and
have more vim. endurance and vitality,
your money will be returned, and the
BP'O-Phospnate will cost you nothing.
Guticura Soap
-IS IDEAIL
For the Hands
Soap 25a, Ointment 25 A 50c., Talcum 25a Bamplo
each mailed froe by "Cotlcnra, I>ept. B, Boston."
Break! Breakl Breakl
“Let's go to the bench for a few
weeks.” said Brown’s wife. “Just
think, dear of the soothing murmur of
the sea, the constant breaking of the
waves and—”
“And the equally constnnt breaking
of the $20 bills.” put In her more prac
tical husband.—Boston Evening Tran
script.
ASPIRIN FOR HEADACHE
Name "Bayer” is on Genuina
Aspirin—say Bayer
Insist on “Bayer Tablets of Aspirin”
in a “Bayer package,” containing prop
er directions for Headache, Colds,
Pain, Neuralgia, Lumbago, and Rheu
matism. Name "Bayer” means genuine
Aspirin prescribed by physlclnns for
nineteen years. Handy tin toxes of ,12
tablets cost few cents. Aspirin Is trade
mark of Bayer Manufacture of Mono
acetleacldester of Sallcyllcacld.—Adv.
A Bit Too Much.
During a concert in a Scottish hall
the official who was collecting tickets
*t the door sought out the caretaker.
“Ca’ canny, moil, or ye’ll be hneln’
trouble,” he whispered mysteriously.
“Beegamy—no less I” was the ticket
collector's awed reply. “I've let in twa
wlmmln who said that they wls the
caretaker’s wife, and noo there’s a
third yin wantin' to come in.”
GOODBY,
WOMEN’S
TROUBLES
The tortures and discomforts of
Weak, lame and aching back, swollen
feet and limbs, weakness, dizziness,
nausea, as a rule have their origin in
kidney trouble, not “female complaints.”
These general symptoms of kidney anil
bladder diseaso aro well known—so la
the remedy.
Next time you feel a twinge of pain
in the back or are troubled with head
ache, indigestion, insomnia, irritation
in the bladder or pain in the loins and
lower abdomen, you will find quick and
sure relief in GOLD MEDAL Haarlem
Oil Capsules. This old and tried rem
edy for kidney trouble and allied de
rangernents has Stood the test for hun
dreds of years. It does the work.
Pains and troubles vanish and new life
and health will come as you continue
their use. When completely restored
to your usual vigor, continue taking •
capsule or two each day.
GOLD MEDAL Haarlem Oil Cap
sules are imported from the laborato
ries at Haarlem, Hollaud. Do not ac
cept a substitute, la sealed boxes,
three sizes,—Adv.
A Vanished Custom.
^“Isn’t it terrible the way food prices
have gone up?”
"Yes, indeed—I’m positively ashamed
to ask the butcher for a nickel’s worth
■of dog meat any more.”
A SUMMER COLD
A cold In the summer time, as every
body knows, is the hardest kind of a
cold to get rid of. The best and quick'
est way Is to go to bed and stay ther<
If you can, with a bottle of “Ilosehee’l
Syrup” handy to insure a good nlght’i
rest, free from coughing, with easy ex
pectoratlon in the morning.
But If you can’t stay in bed you mus
keep out of draughts, avoid suddei
changes, eat sparingly of simple foot
and take occasional doses of Boschee’i
Syrup, which yon can buy at any stori
where medicine Is sold, a safe and effl
dent remedy, made in America for tnon
than fifty years. Keep It handy.—Adi
The wife of a photographer doesn’
r.lways look pleasant.
W«v£ ££
It & Eyit. If they Tire, Itch,
rxb Smart or Burn, if Sore,
V> Iirittk d, Inflamed cr
YOUR LYtJ Granulated, use Murine
Often. Soothes. Refreshes. Safe for
[nfanV*Adult. AtallDnygists Wntefoi
Free Eye Book. teaiiy Cw,CMca£
I The TWICE AMERICAN j
By ELEANOR M. INGRAM
- .-.M!-! , — I .. I —
CHAPTER It
THE TRAIL. OF THE SHOES.
A great deal has been written about
David Noel, by his chosen people and
by others, but few of the chroniclers
look farther back than his 18th or 20th
year. It was then that his figure be
gan to move before the public vision
from which it has never since with
drawn. Yet the years between the
gift of the litjlo shoes and his return
to New York at 16 were those of deep
est change in him. They, perhaps,
fixed what he was to be.
David mode his first trip down the
coast, on the Maya Girl, as a useful
pet rather than a serious employe. He
was so very small and thin, so in
tensely earnest and uncannily acute,
that he was almost embarrassing to
the good natured men about him. He
Insisted upon being hard working, and
he learned with avidity. He wanted
to stay on the Maya Girl; indeed, he
was secretly superstitious about her
good luck for him ever since the eve
ning he came to her wharf in wistful
Inquiry and found she had docked that
very day. It really seemed that she
had come for him, come at the first
moment when he was able to go with
her. His sailor had remembered him,
too; and bribed a Chinese boy to de
sert that David might have his oppor
tunity. 'The Rallor had not yet been
ashore to dispose of his wages in
riotous living, anfl had aided the boy in
the -Wise outlay of his own money.
Decidedly, fortune was with the Maya
Girl, in David’s Judgment.
"Am I gettln* enough done?” was
his most frequent query during tin
first weeks. "Am I?"
And the answer was always an as
sent. David had never read sea tales
of the abuse of cabin boys, and was
quite unaware of how his experience
contradicted tradition. He merely en
joyed the fact of kind treatment.
When the south began to open be
fore him, there stirred in David Noel
the seed of that strong lovq. which was
to grow, liana' like, and bind him by
green tendrils to the tropics. From
the biting cold which his body loathed
in every shrinking fiber, the ship
slipped down the coasts into a warmth
like nothing his experience could
match. He knew stove heat, in its
inevitable association with foul, un
alred rooms and evil odors, yet never
theless a magnificent luxury seldom
enjoyed. He knew tho sickening, poi
sonous heat of summer in the slums
of a huge city; heat accompanied by
sounds as nauseous as the atmosphere
when the tenement dwellers lounged in
windows or doorways and filled the
dirty streets instead of huddling with
in walls. But this new warmth—clean,
both salt and sweet, wind swept and
universal. Before it he was dnurticu
lato.
There were details which might have
marred the voyage of a sybarite, de
tails of which David was scarcely con
scious. Cockroaches of unbelievable
size and lustiness were nothing to him,
or the later advent of great spiders
and still stranger creatures. He
learned to dispose of them nonchalant
ly, with casual indifference, when they
trespassed over far. The food seemed
to him delicious, and of an almost lu
dicrous abundance and regularity in
appearance.
At Montevideo he was allowed to go
ashore with the men. Mr. Blake, the
ship's second officer, had a business
visit to pay and took David with him.
That visit marked a new develop
ment for tho boy. He saw beauty of
life for the second time, and recog
nized it. The wide avenues of villas
set in private parks violently colored
by such greens and flower hues as he
had never conceived possible, the play
of fountains in shaded patios, the
' leisurely people attended by native,
servitors clad in white—David walked
through it all with a sensation of win
dows suddenly flung wide on every
side of him, so that vista after vista
leaped Into his view. He said little.
But changed forever were his ambi
tions. Never again would tho house
on Madison avenue represent for him
the epitome of handsomeness and
wealth.
"Rotten climate, old man!" Mr.
Blake observed to his small compan
ion as they walked hack through the
town. "It’s the wind off the pampas;
the pampero."
He moved his shoulders disgustedly.
But David did.not agree with him.
“I’m goln’ to live here, sometime,"
he stated, soberly.
The officer stared, then laughed.
"Don’t pick your town too quick,"
he counseled. "Wait until you’ve seen
more. Uruguay, the Argentine—pooh!
Too flat! Too much clay! Now, far
ther down—there is something to see."
David nodded gravely.
“I'll see more, first,” he accepted the
advice. “I meant some place like this.
I mean to have a house like one of
these.”
His voice trailed Out into silence, his
habitual reticence in revolt at having
said so much.
"You had better learn the lingo
then,” said Mr. Blake, without irony
He found David Noel an unusual boy
and he had seen fortunes made ir
these lands with less foundation ol
forcefulness than his.
*‘I will." promised David, with equa
brevity.
He was unconsciously heartened b]
the man’s lack of surprise.
Later, when the Maya Girl finally
reached her port at Uio de Janeiro
Mr. Blake's advice gained precious val
ue tor the boy, He had bade him wai
2
and see "lower down.” When the
matchless harbor opened before David,
the stretches of pure water made opal
escent by delicate mists In which isl- •
ands seemed to float like boquets, the
shining city clasped by forests densely
rich that rolled back to distant moun
tains_starting up against the horizon
in lofty. Jagged peaks, the dazzled boy
understood the wisdom of the coun- j
sel. He thought then, and never after
ward altered the opinion, that he had
come to the most beautiful place In
the world.
On the return voyage up the coast
David hired a sailor from Argentina j
to teach him Spanish. No one had (
told him of the difference In language
in Brazil, or that he really wished to ,
study Portuguese. The fee to his
teacher was one of the dollars remain- j
lng from the bounty of the princess
of the little shoes. Perhaps thatknowl- j
edge helped him to hard study; ft was j
part of his adventure fund. He learned
with rapidity, with the accurate mimi
cry of youth to help him; and prac
ticed assiduously at every port the boat
touched.
That study called his attention to^
a difference in English diction. The j
captain and Mr. Blake did not speak
like the dark eyed gentleman who had
bought the white shoes, but neither did
•they speak like the men of the crew
nor like David himself. The boy set
himself to the tasks of observation and
imitation of what he found desirable.
He made comparisons, and took men
tal notes; becoming, In time, a fas
tidious critic of himself and others.
Erom language, he passed to the con
sideration of many details of manner
and deportment.
The Maya Girl did not return to New
York. Her new cargo was consigned
to a port in South Carolina, and from
there she again ran down the coasts
far below the equator. David did not
regret the erratic movements of the
floating home he had adopted, but wel
comed the changes. He would have
shunned New York, from Choice, in
those days. Ho had a shy, proud dread
of meeting the little girl or the gentle
man, lest they might think him beg
ging more favors. He was in no hurry;
his thoughts were the long, long
thoughts of youth.
He spent two years on the Maya
Girl. Then Mr. Blake attained a posi
tion for which he had maneuvered for
years. He became master of a vessel
belonging to Brazilian owners, and
plying between Boston and Rio de Ja
neiro. He took his protege, David, with
him to this new position. The boy
was 13 years old, then, and much
Spanish intercourse had made the lan
guage almost as truly his otvn as Eng
lish.
On its first voyage the shier ha*f the
honor of carrying as passenger the
brother of its owner. He was an aris
tocrat of the extinct Brazilian empire;
an old man with a voice that flowed
like poured cream and a manner at
once mild and lofty. He had an air
of being magnificently indifferent to
everyone about him while in reality
observing all things with an insatiable
Inquisitiveness. The lives and emotions
of other people entertained him enor
mously. He was not slow to perceive
an entertainment of novelty In Cap
tain Blake’s interest in David; and pro
ceeded to investigate its source by the
simple method of himself talking to 1
the boy.
The baron soon found there were
deeps ’ In Davfd Noel beyond shallow
Roundings. Delighted by an unantici
pated diversion, he summoned the boy
to him on every possible occasion, deli
cately grappling for the satisfaction*
of his curiosity. So deftly managed
were these conversational' grappling
irons that the inexperienced David nev
er perceived their use. Yet quite un
consciously he continued to baffle the
searcher's whim to know; a whim akin
to the passion of a collector. David
never Imagined himself as an enigma,,
or the distinguished passenger as a
student of such matters. He was too
young to conceive, as the Brazilian did,
that the most simple person in the
world has secret ways of thought, con
cealed windings of the heart rarely
traced by any knowledge save his own,
and therefore offering to an explorer
the allure of ail forbidden places. It
never occurred to him to speak of him
self, still less of his days as a street
boy in New York, although he was al
! ways glad to pause beside the baron’s
I deck chair for a chat in English or
Spanish. The Brazilian spoke both
flawlessly.
It was the question of language that
dredged up his first desired pearl shell
of knowledge for the Senhor da Pu
entes.
“You speak better Spanish than Eng
lish, my boy,” the old man one day
informed him. “Do you understand
What I mean? Your Spanish is that
of a shop keeper; your English is that
of the slums.”
David Noel looked at the other with
his vivid gray eyes, and nodded.
“Ves, sir. I learned Spanish by talk
ing in the shops and to sailors. Tb*
English—well, I grew up where you
say! But I’m trying to fix it. Some
day I’ve got to talk decent!”
‘ Decently." supplied the baron. “De
cently! Why?”
"Because,” said David, his voice low, '
“some day I’m going to talk to a lady." j
“Ah!” The baron looked long at the
boy. “Well, we have a long voyage
before us. Suppose I teach you the
Portuguese of a gentleman?"
The scantiness of kindness in Da
vid’s life had made gratitude a fer
vent emotion with him. How ines
timable a gift the Fenhor v.as making
him, he could not divine, but his giance
was an ardent answer.
Before the end of the voyage the two
who w< re so different became friends.
Afterward David spent the intervals
of Ills voyaging at the da Fuente house
in Rio de Janeiro. The baron was not
a very wealthy man, but he had a
library open to the boy. He had a
wife and a family of grown sons and
grandchildren who were good nature
itself to the little northerner.
When David was 16 he had assem
bled the oddest sort of education. He
had had two tutors, two schools. He
learned of Captain Blake and the life
aboard ship; and he,, learned of the
old grandee and his household. From
the last he gained something of the
quiet bearing, the gentle courtesies, the
stately amiability that made an atmos
phere he eagerly and easily assimilat
ed, seeing its worth. Youth and the
baron aided his desire, until a stranger
might have supposed him a young
kinsman of the house.
In the other half of his life, with
Captain Blake and the sailors, he
learned practical navigation and an
understanding of the vast business and
shipping affairs of South America. He
could fight with the cunning and hardi
hood practiced on the East Side and
perfected in ports all down both coasts.
He was a fair shot with a revolver
and a good one with a rifle. As a
contrast to the charming home life of
the da Fuentes, he had seen in his
short experience more varieties of
wickedness than most men or women
ever hear of; and learned to look on
at such things with the unsurprised,
matter of fact distaste that he felt
for the huge spiders and roaches some
times brought on board the boat with
cargoes of rankly tropical things. They
were to be kept aloof from, when poi
sible. When not possible, they were
to bo crushed out of the path, of
course. One had to go on!
That cold, steady persistence In go
ing on was David Noel's most individ
ual trait throughout his Ufa His
tenacity of purpose, an idea once con
ceived, never loosened. His methods
were fluent; he would abandon essay
after essay without regret to take up
new means of possible accomplishment,
but he never abandoned the object to
ward which he had set himself. Among
the more volatile^ easily swayed peo
ple of the south he found a mass duc
tile to that force of his, rarer among
them than among his own race, yet
rare even there in one so young. And
he was in a land where men have been
revolutionary leaders at 18 and. dying
before their majority, yet have left his
tories behind them.
There was something more, without
which he might never have reached
and maintained himself on the heights:
he loved the people and the country!
He did not exploit them, he was one
nf them. He liked the mobile faees
that smiled readily instead of grudg
ingly; he thrived in the strong light
and heat like an Indian; he Whs at
home in the swarming, good natured,
Iangerous cities.
One day he came to Captain Blake,
when the ship lay in a port far to the
south of BrazlL
"I’m going to stay here next trip,
sir," he announced. "I’m going up
country."
Captain Blake studied him thought
fully. Even when he spoke English
David had grown to use unconsciously
:ho grave, composed manner caught
Yom the old grandee of the empire,
tie was fastidious about the neatness
if his coarse white shirt and trousers
jlrded' by a broad black belt as the
iaron could have been. But he moved
with1 the soundless swiftness of a moc
:asined Ihdian instead of the southern
er's languor. The meagerness of star
vation Had long since given place to
wiry litheness. Yes, he had changed
imazingly, Blake reflected, sensing the
ipproach of still further change.
"What for?” Blake asked.
"To—work! I don’t want to bo a
sailor, as you. know, sir. I’ve got a
plan."
Captain Blake shook fits head doubt
fully.
"Going to stay ashore now?"
“Next tltne, sir. I,"—a heat that was
not of the sun flared over the boy’s
lark face—‘Tve got to go back to New
fork for a day. I’Ve not been there
tor five years-—arid—I've got an er
rand. I can go down from Boston and
?et back the same day, can’t I?”
"Pretty nearly," nodded Blake.
Ho was very curious, but somehow
David did not invite and never had
Invited’ questioning.
So once mere David made the fa
miliar voyage north.
CHAPTER IL
—
, THE KISS.
Th« day was exquisite, with the
breath of spring In the air, when David
Noel returned to New York. Spring
sunshine overlay the city graciously
and gaily. David had debated much
1® his foreseeing mind as to how he
might obtain an interview with the
tittle lady of the shoes. He had con
sidered the matter during long warm
nights when he lay stretched upon the
deck of the ship. He had rebuilt the
scene with patient exactitude, recall
ing each detail etched upon his inner
vision. If he went up the stone steps
and boldly rang the bronze door bell,
there would appear one of those sleek
servants he remembered. Perhaps he
might not see Constance at all; or, if
he did, it might be in the presence
of one of the two elder ladies who had
entered the carriage after the little
girl. His only near approach to social
life had been in South'Amerioa; con
sequently. he had ait exaggerated idea
of the severe chaperonage exercised
over well bred girls, even girl children.
He could not bear the thought of a
witness to what he planned to say to
the small creature upon whose large
heart he had launched his future. Pet
i
haps. If It should be the gentleman whd |
was with her—the gentleman with the
quick dark eyes and the lazy voice who
had called him a Dante—? But nor
Kven that was unthinkable! He fhust
see her alone. Already he knew how
to wait for what he wanted. He would
wait a day, two days, a week, but ho
would see her as he wished.
When he emerged from the old Cen
tral station that morning he knew thd
weather was playing for him. Surely
such a day as this must bring out even
the children of this cold haunted city!
He walked t-he crowded streets with
a pleasure he hftd not anticipated, be
ing still unaware of the difference In
any place whether one sees it hungry
or full fed. Ho looked at the shops,
the hotels, the passersby with an agree
able sense of equality with them all.
-Once he was halted by a row of peo
ple standing in stolid patience, a hu
man line that reached across the side
walk Into the lobby of a theater, where
it colled upon itself to accommodate!
more people who moved In slow pro
gression toward the ticket office. Glanc
ing up at the wall, David saw It wart
covered by an immense poster dis
playing the one word: "Vasili.” The
Isolated name brought back to him!
vague recollections. It had covered
walls and fences beneath which he had
found shelter before he went away
from the city on the Maya Girl. His|
companions of the streets had picked
up the name with gamin facility; ha
remembered they had said Vasili was
the greatest dancer living.
"Matinee today?” he asked of a man
near him. It enchanted his boyish van
ity to think that he was able to buy
a ticket if he chose.
The other nodded.
"Last appearance before he sails for
Eurog*” he said, with a vicarious rel
ish of eo much celebrity. "They're
paying $20 a seat, I heard, and $5 for
standing room. He’s giving a new bal
let, written for him. Oriental piece!"
David turned back to gaze at the
waiting people. He respected every
one who had succeeded magnificently;
as be himself meant to succeed^
There was a portrait poster In the
lobby, of which he could just glimpse
the general effect from where he stood.
And suddenly he was seized with one
of those vivid recollections of trifles
which are so strangely Impressed upon
childhood. He remembered that there!
had been such a {raster upon the door
of the wretched tenement In whoee
cellar be had contrived a refuge for
himself; the portrait of a slender,
straight man wrapped in a richly
furred overcoat. The little David Noel'
had passionately envied him the pos
session of that coat—not the great
Vasili’s fame or wealth, but his coat!
If anything could’ have Intensified
his gratitude to the baby Constance,
it would have been that remembrance
of past misery. David, sobered beyond
thoughts of vanity or theaters, hur
ried oh his way.
Opposite the house on Madison ave
nue he took his stand beside one of
the few trees progress had left. The
house looked just the same; just as
immaculate and correct, with Its pol
ished window panes that always ap
peared to have just been washed. Its
gleaming door fittings, its steps and
rails upon which grime never seemed
to settle.
He noticed' here a quality apart from
subequatorial luxury, and mentally
added a requisite to his plans; cleanli
ness and' sumptuosneas were not
enough, a house must also possess or
der within and1 without. He was glad'
to have soon that fact so early.
The acquarlum Was still' In the win
dow; the goldfish, all fringed and fan
tastically tailed! moved like flashes of
sun through their submarine groves of
delicate green. David', who had seen
the marvelous hues and forms of tropi
cal under sea life, eyed the captives'
with lofty contempt They were hers,
no doubt He remembered her admira
tion of them. He must have fountains'
when he built’ hi* house.
He leaned there against the tree an
hour, watching the life of the avenue,
and the windows of the house. Surely
she must come out some time i
But she did not;- she came in. About;
2 o’clock a carriage trotted up to the
curb and halted; The footman de
scended. opened the- coupe doer, and a
little figure sprang out. David start
ed forward. The carriage drove on at
once, to his relief; leaving him all he
desired. She was running up the steps
when he boldly stopped her. •
“Excuse me,”' he said. “I have to
tell you something. Do you remember
me?”
X UK} muc utui, Oiiooiv-u
in her dancing flight upward. Five
years may be a, tong space, or a very
short one, and; surely the five years
from 11 to 16 are longer years than
those from 5 to 10, At 16 a boy may
have become a man, but a child ot
10 Is surely a child. There was little
to recall the boy of five years before
in the neatly clothed youth who chal
lenged her memory. David Noel dressed
as a man, It had not occurred to him
that he could be considered of less
than that estate. She was too young
to criticise the cut or fineness of his
dark gray suit. Her glance passed
lightly over his attire, but dwelt upon
his unchanged gray eyes, upon the en
during energy and power of the strong
young face which had claimed her baby
attention.
"Why—why—you are the shivering
S>oy!” she exclaimed in swift recog
nition.
"And you are the little princess,” he
j answered.
j Her red-brown eyes laughed surprise
' at the title, then she looked down.
“You have shoes now,” she approved
naively.
"Yes.”
(To be Continued Next Week.l
More than seven tons of dust ere car
ried by tramping feet of New 1^,1 Into
Um nubwaya every ft
jWas Laid Up In Bed
Doan’i, Hcw.rer, Restored Mrs. Vogt to Health
and Strength. Hasn’t Suffered Since.
"I had one- of the worst cases of kid
ney complaint imaginable,” says Mrs.
Wm. Vogt, 6315 Audrey Ave., Wellston,
Mo., "and I was laid up In bed for days
at^ a time.
"My bladder was inflamed and the
kidney secretions caused
terrible pain. My back
was in such bad shape
that when I moved the
pains were like a knife
thrust. I got so dizzy I
couldn’t stoop and my
head just throbbed with
pain. Beads of perspi
ration would stand on
my temples, then I
would become cold and
numb. My heart action
MRS. VOGT. affe.cted and 1 felt as
breath T 1 couldn’t take another I
if.ifHfo ■? ncrvouB and run down.
I felt life wasn t worth living and often
wished that I might die so my suffering
would be ended. Medicine failed to help
me and I was discouraged. p
*?oan 8 Kldne/ P,1,B Were recommend
ed to me and I could tell I was being
helped after the first few doses. I kept
getting better every day and continued
use cured me. My health improved in
every way and best of all, the cure has
been permanent. I feel that Doan’s
saved my life." Sworn to before me.
HENRY B. SURKAMP. Notary Public.
Gti Doan’s st Any Store, 60c s Box
DOAN’S ’V”J
FOSTER-MILBURN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y.
THE “BLUES”
Caused by
Acid-Stomach
Millions of people who worry, are despon
dent, have spells of mental depression, feel
blue and are often melancholy, believe that
these conditions are due to outside influences
over which they have little or no control.
Nearly always, however, they cj|n he traced
to an internal source—acld-atomach. Nor la
It to be wondered at. Acid-stomach, begin
ning with such well defined symptoms as in
digestion, belching, heartburn, bloat, etc.,
will, if not checked, in time affect to eozae
degree or other all the vital organa. The
nervous system becomea deranged. Digestion
suffers. The blood is Impoverished. Health
and strength are undermined. The victim of
acid-stomach. ftUhpugh he may not know "*■
tne pause of his ailments, feels his hope,
courage, ambition and energy slipping. And
truly life Is dark—not worth much to the
man or woman who has acid-stomach!
Get rid of It! Don’t let acid-stomach hold
you back, wreck your health, make your
days miserable, make you a victim of the
“blues” andKjgloomy thoughts! There le a
marvelous modern remedy called EATONIC
that brings, oh! such quick relief from your
■tomach miseries—sets your stomach to rights
—makes It strong, cool, sweet and comfort
able. Helps you got back your strength, vigor,
vitality, enthusiasm and good cheer. So
many thousands upon thousands of sufferers
have used EATONIC with such marvelously
helpful results that we are sure you will
feel the same way If you will Just give It a
trial. Get a big 60 cent box of EATONIC—
the good tasting tablets that you eat like a
bit of candy—from your druggist today. He
will return your money if results are not
•ven more than you expect.
FATONIC
fcp ( TOR TOOK AOD-STOMACg)
Hemstitching and Piooting. Attachment that!
works on all sewing machines. $1.60. Add*
J. F. Light, Box 127, Birmingham, Ala.
Knowledge of the Language.
Bugler Overtop—Yes, in France I
had to be an early riser.. I got up
every morning on the first crow of the
roosters.
Miss Homestopper—And could you
really understand the French roosters
when they crowed?
Don't Forget Cutlcura Talcum
When adding to your toilet requisites.
An exquisitely scented face, skin, baby
and dusting powder and perfume, ren
dering other perfumes superfluous,
you may rely on It because one of tha
Suticura Tfio (Soap, Ointment and
ralcum). 25a ea«h everywhere.—Adv.
Too Much Luck.
“It Is very wrong to envy any man
tils prosperity.”
“Of course, it’isj” replied Cactus Joe.
‘But when Tarantula Tim holds three
ice fulls in succession we’re entitled
to indulge in a certain amount of in
lulsitiveness about the deck and the
leal.”
DEWSOF EVE
No More Gentle Than
“Cascarats” for the
Liver; Bowels
It Is just as needless as It Is danger
)us to take violent or nasty cathartics.
Mature provides-tie shock absorbers for
pour liver and bowels against calomel,
tarsh pills, sickening oil and salts.
”ascarets glvoqjaiek relief without In
lury from Constipation, Biliousness, In
ilgestlon. Gases and Sick Headache.
”ascarets work; while you sleep, remov
ing the toxins, poisons and sour, In
ligestible wasSe without griping or In- - __
-onvenlence,. CJascarets regulate by
strengthening; the bowel muscles. They
tost so little- too.—Adv.
Mode Out of Hair.
“Remember when they made watch
ring? That was made out of human,
hair?” asked the one who loved bn
ruminate,
“Well, do you see that diamond
ring? That wasmade out of human
hair!” replied the girl who is engaged
to a barber.—Yonkers Statesman.
I —i
“Saves ^6? Baco®C
Mt. Pleasant, la_'When 1 tonnd sickness a-fjRar-;
in, in mr herd I got a 3Q ih. pall of 11. A Tfyast
Hos Remedy. Before 1 Snlshed feeding It, I was a, K
satis fled that 1 got another, and when nr wa» g
aU i»\i 1 M»a third twJland.find that tW, aw«8
feed ke^ipthein well. Jtu Xermeatt, % * o. b
MFC. CO, tr^y^wethK*
1
