By
MARTHA
OSTENSO
O MARTHA OSTENSO—WNU SERVICE
THE STORY THUS FAR
Lovely, Independent Autumn Dean, returning home to British Columbia from
•broad without her father's knowledge, stops at the home of Hector Cardigan,
an old family friend. He tells her that she should not have come home, that
things have changed. Arriving home at the "Castle of the Norns," she is greeted
lovingly by her father, Jarvis Dean, who gives her to understand that she Is wel
come—for a short visit. Her mother, former belle named MUlicent OdeU, has
been dead for years. Autumn cannot understand her father's attitude, though
gives him to understand that she la home for good. Her father gives a welcom
ing dance at the castle. Autumn meets Florian Parr, dashing, well-educated
young man of the countryside. Late in the evening Autumn leaves the dance,
rides horseback to the neighboring ranch where she meets Bruce Landor, friend
and champion of her childhood days. He takes her to see his mother, an Invalid.
His father Is dead, thought to have killed himself. As soon as his mother sees
Autumn she commands Bruce to take her away, that death follows In the wake of
the Odells. Autumn is both saddened and perplexed. Bruce, apologetic, can offer
no reason for his mother's attitude Autumn caUs again on Hector Cardigan—this
time to find out the reason for Mrs. Landor's outburst. From his conversation
ahe Inferred that Geoffrey Landor killed himself because he loved MUlicent Dean,
her mother. Meanwhile, Bruce Landor rides to the spot where his father s
body was found years before. There he meets Autumn. Autumn and he talk of
their families. They agree that her mother and his father loved each other
deeply—and that their love is the cause of present antagonism. Florian Parr, a‘
the castle for dinner, proposes to Autumn. She refuses him. The next day
Autumn meets Bruce in a herder’s cabin. There they declare their love for each
other, and determine to stand together against everyone who might come
between them. Autumn tells her father that she Is going to marry Bruce. She Is
aghast to see his reaction, and Is agonized to hear him whisper that Geoffrey
Landor did not take his own life. He tells her the story. MUlicent, his wife,
and Geoffrey Landor had fallen In love with each other. But MUlicent would not
break her marriage vows. Meeting Landor one day in a secluded spot, Jarvis
Dean was forced to fight with him. Landor is accidentally killed by his own
gun. Autumn knows then that everything is ended between Bruce and herself.
CHAPTER VI—Continued.
—9—
Autumn snatched hat and gloves
from the chair and abruptly turned
to the door.
Hector put out a hand. ‘‘Where
are you going, Autumn?” he asked,
his voice trembling.
‘‘I’m starting for hell!” she re
torted. “So long!”
He took her arm gently. "Won’t
you let me talk to you?” he pleaded.
“You had your chance to do that
last week,” she told him. “It’s too
late for that now.”
She flung out of the house and ran
to her car. In a moment she was
climbing out of the valley on the
winding trail that led to Kelowna.
The room into which the younger
Parr girl led Autumn was cool and
fragrant with roses. It had been
done in pale green and ivory. A
rug of fawn-color covered the floor.
"What a sweet room!” Autumn
said as she glanced about her.
“I’m glad you like it,” said the
girl in a voice of careful indolence.
‘‘My room is there—next to this.”
She pointed with her cigarette hold
er, a long magenta affair which she
held poised in her right hand. Un
der her left arm she carried a sil
very mop which Autumn had al
ready learned was a Belgian griffon.
The girl was a slender ash-blonde,
with eyes of a hazy violet, and lips
that were brilliantly rouged.
The open doorway that led to the
adjoining room revealed a mauve
toned boudoir that somehow seemed
a perfect setting for the girl.
Autumn glanced at the room and
then turned to pat the dog on the
girl's arm. ‘‘What do you call him.
Miss Parr?” she asked.
“His name is Koochook—which
sounds a J>it Eskimoish—but it’s
spelled C-a-o-u-t-c-h-o-u-c—which on
the Ganges or somewhere means
India rubber. And for God’s sake,
don't call me ‘Miss Parr.’ You’ll
scare everybody to death around
here. My devoted parents tagged
me with ‘Melinda’ when I was too
young to have any opinions of my
own. I get ‘Linda’—but I prefer
‘Lin’—if you don’t mind.”
“Rather not,” Autumn replied. "I
like it.”
She saw that her bag had been
brought in and unpacked, and her
things laid out in orderly fashion on
the bed.
“I had my faithful slavey attend
to your clothes,” Linda said. “You'd
like a shower, perhaps. The bath is
on the left, there, between our
rooms.”
“Thanks,” Autumn said. “I’d like
nothing better.”
Linda reclined on a chaise-longue,
smoking, her dog on the velvet up
holstery beside her, while Autumn
undressed.
“You’re a sort of cross between
me and my sister Elinor,” she said
as she watched Autumn appraising
ly. “Elinor is the horse of the fam
ily. That may have sounded funny,
but I didn’t mean any reflection on
you.”
Autumn laughed, won out of her
depression somewhat, in spite of
herself. “Where is Elinor?” she
asked.
Linda waved a languid arm. “God
knows. Probably down pruning the
apple-trees—no, I guess it’s not the
season for that. Spraying them,
maybe, or whatever it is they do
at this time of year. Or she may
be out shooting squirrels. She’s a
little odd, poor Elinor, but you’ll like
her.”
“I’m sure I shall like all of you,”
Autumn said, a little helplessly.
"I’m not at all sure,” Linda pro
tested. “We’re a bit touched, if
you ask me. The stock is good
enough, but something must have
gone wrong in the breeding. The
family takes itself quite seriously,
too—except Florian and me. We
spend most of our time laughing at
the others—and ourselves.”
“There’s a saving grace in that,”
Autumn remarked.
“You’re the only thing Florian has
ever taken seriously—except polo,”
Linda observed, blowing smoke
rings. “The poor boy is hit—and
hit hard.”
"Oh, nonsense!” Autumn laughed
coolly.
But she colored as she felt Linda’s
scrutiny change to a mobile, slow
sort of approval.
* "Can’t say I blame him, either,”
Linda added. "You'd make a dec
orative sister-in-law.”
The girl was part and parcel of
all that Autumn had left behind her
in Europe. Behind her mask of
indolence there was a rapacity for
living. Autumn knew her kind very
well, though she was somewhat sur
prised to And it here.
"Are you in love with Florian, by
any chance?” Linda asked suddenly
as Autumn tossed her negligee about
her shoulders and thrust her feet
into her mules.
Autumn smiled. "I don’t think
so—not yet, at any rate,” she
replied.
“I might have known as much,”
Linda said. "The Parrs are such
damned fools!” Her voice trailed
away, as though it was too much of
an effort for her to express her
contempt for the breed.
Autumn hurried off to take her
shower. When she returned, Linda
was sitting where she had left her.
"I’ll be ready in a minute,” she
said as she set about dressing.
“Don’t hurry,” Linda replied laz
ily. "No one hurries around here.
Florian will probably be gnawing
hi3 nails if he isn’t gifting tight.
But it’ll do him good to wait. I
was terribly sorry, by the way, that
I couldn't go to your dance. Florian
said it was a great success.”
"He told me you were disappoint
ed,” Autumn said. “I was sorry,
too.”
“I had a bum ankle that day.
Came home late the night before
and tripped over a rubber hose
somebody had carelessly left on the
lawn.”
“We had the whole countryside
there,” Autumn told her.
“So Florian said. Bruce Landor
didn’t turn up, I understand.”
Autumn started at the mention of
Bruce’s name. She turned away
from Linda to pick up a garment
from the bed, fearing that her face
might betray the quickening of her
heart. “His mother has been very
ill,” she said evasively.
“I know. She’s been dying for a
year. I believe nothing keeps her
alive but sheer cussedness. She
knows Bruce will have a chance to
get around as soon as she’s gone.”
“You know Bruce—pretty well?”
Autumn asked.
"As well as he’ll let me,” Linda
replied. "I called him up again
today to see if he couldn’t possibly
come down. Earlier in the week he
was afraid he’d be too busy, but he
said today he’d try to make it to
morrow night.”
"He told me you had invited
him,” Autumn said. She wondered
if Linda would note the unsteadi
ness of her voice. “And he seemed
very sorry that he couldn’t get down
in time for the game.”
Although her attitude was casual
enough now, what she felt was some
thing verging on panic. Bruce had
told her that he could not go to Ke
lowna. And now—if he came here,
it would be primarily because of
her.
"You’ve known him all your life,
haven’t you?” Linda pursued with
an interest that was agonizing.
"We went to school together.”
"He told me so,” Linda sighed.
"Why didn’t you fall in love with
him?”
Autumn’s hands trembled as she
drew on her stockings. She got up
and went to the dresser where she
could see Linda’s face in the mirror.
The girl was stroking her dog idly.
"It probably didn’t occur to me,”
Autumn observed with straightened
lips.
"It occurred to me the first time
I saw him,” Linda said. “And no
other man has meant a damn to me
since.”
"There’s lots of time yet, Lin,”
Autumn told her.
“Time has nothing to do with it,
my dear," Linda observed, her lids
lowered in a resigned fatigue. "It
happens—or it doesn’t happen—and
that’s all there is to it. It happened
to me in a minute. It won’t happen
to him in ten years—so far as I’m
concerned.”
She remained standing at the win
dow until Autumn had finished
dressing, and was ready to go down.
"All set!” Autumn announced.
Linda turned from the window and
gave her an appraising look. Au
tumn was dressed in a simple white
net dinner gown, with turquoise
drops at her ears.
"You're lovely,” Linda said sim
ply, and slipped her arm through
Autumn's as they went together to
join the others.
On the portico Florian met them
with tall frosted glasses in his hands
and led Autumn to one of the high
backed, deeply cushioned bamboo
chairs. “I thought you'd never come
back," he said. “I knew I shouldn't
have let you get into Lin's clutches.
From now on you’re mine.”
He went and got his own glass and
returned and seated himself cross
legged on the floor at her side.
"How lovely this is!” Autumn
murmured, as her gaze drifted out
over the tessellated valley.
"It has never been really quite
perfect before,” Florian said in a
voice that was flushed with a sort
of urgency.
Autumn lowered her lids in the
quick pain the words brought her.
She bit her lips in vexation at her
own feeble will, her inability to put
Bruce out of mind, cleanly and def
initively. She must play up now or
be lost, she thought desperately.
"You are too free with your com
pliments, Florian," she said wearily.
“You mustn’t turn my head."
She looked across at Linda as she
spoke. The girl had seated herself
on the porch swing, her shapely legs
hoisted above her and her feet
"I didn’t mean any reflection
on you.”
braced against the chain upon which
the swing was suspended.
“You might turn it and look at
me,” Florian ventured.
"Don't let him fuss you, Autumn,”
Linda said. “He always gets com
plimentary on a couple of silver
fizzes.”
Autumn smiled and looked out
upon the panorama that lay below
them. The Colonial mansion of the
Parrs stood on a bluff overlooking
the long crystalline mirror of Lake
Okanagan. From the columned por
tico one could look down, in spring,
upon a sea of bloom, the white,
pink, and deeper pink froth of thou
sands of fruit trees in flower, apple,
peach, cherry and pear. And be
yond the rosy nacre of the orchards
lay the long blue shaft of the lake,
vanishing behind misty headlands on
i the north and south. Here, in the
ample security of their well-being,
the Parrs had lived for years, a
lusty, swift-living and pleasure-lov
ing family whose brilliant exploits
had become colorful legend in the
countryside. It was the boast of
J. Elliot Parr that at the age of
sixty he could still show his son Flor
ian a point or two at polo, and that
a fencing foil was still sweet in his
hand. Certain people with a spite
ful turn of mind might say that it
was not surprising that Mrs. Parr
had given up the ghost long ago,
but that was neither here nor there
so far. at least, as the younger gen
eration of Parrs was concerned.
Florian’s dog, a copper-colored
Irish setter, came bounding up the
steps and laid his head wistfully on
Autumn’s lap.
“You dear old fellow!” she said,
pulling the dog’s sleek ears. “How
friendly he is!"
“Case of—loved by me, loved by
my dog,” Florian said, getting up
and setting his glass aside. He prof
fered Autumn his cigarette case.
“What’s his name, Florian?" Au
tumn asked, helping herself to a
cigarette.
“Tantivy,” Florian told her.
“He’s adorable.”
“You may have half of him,”
Florian replied, “whenever you say
the word.”
“I wish someone would bargain
for half of Elinor’s hound,” Linda
remarked. “Lord, how I hate that
beast.”
"Has Elinor got oae, too?” Au
tumn asked.
“She has,” Florian told her. “It’s
an English bull and he eats any
thing—very fond of griffons.”
As he spoke, Elinor came up the
slope from the orchards, her lugu
brious-faced bulldog at her heels.
She was dressed in khaki breeches
and flannel shirt, and her short,
dark hair hung raggedly about her
head. She had striking dark eyes
and a full. Irregular mouth, and
there was a certain shyness In her
manner that won Autumn to her
immediately. She shook hands brief
ly with Autumn.
"So this is Autumn Dean," she
said. "I’m so glad you’ve come to
see us.”
"Thank you,” Autumn replied.
“I’m very glad I was invited.”
"Where’s Tim?” Linda asked. "I
saw him drive up several minutes
ago.”
"He's talking to father in the ga
rage,” Elinor replied. "They'll both
be here in a minute or two. Isn’t
anyone going to offer me a drink?”
"Meaning me, of course,” Flor
ian said. Ailing a glass and hand
ing it to her.
"They manage things with bad
grace around here, where I’m con
cerned,” Elinor said, with a fleeting
smile at Autumn. "You'll have to
overlook that."
“You’re scarcely human, dear,”
Linda remarked, stretching her
arms and yawning.
“I have my points, though, dar
ling," Elinor observed as she took a
generous gulp from her glass. “I
can at least tell a Shropshire ewe
from a Macintosh red. Lin thinks a
bobtail flush is a breed of dog.”
She laughed at Autumn, drained
her glass and went into the house
to prepare for dinner.
"Filthy!” Linda flung after her
as she disappeared.
"Blame yourself for it,” Florian
said. “You always get the worst of
it when you run into Elinor. Here's
Dad and Tim.”
The two men came up the steps
as he spoke. J. Elliot Parr was a
tall, slightly florid man, his hair
thinning a bit, his chest thrust out
in the determined effort to defer an
inevitable corpulence. He was
dressed in white ducks and a polka*
dot tie, a handkerchief bordered
with polka-dots nattily pointing from
his breast pocket. He greeted Au
tumn with a vigorous handshake.
“Well, I’m damned if this isn’t a
pleasure!” he boomed. “So this is
Millicent’s girl! Well, well—and a
fine young Ally she is, too. Eh,
Florian?”
“Don’t I get In on this?” asked
Timothy.
Autumn took the hand he held out
to her and met frankly the search
ing gaze he bent upon her. He was
a heavy-shouldered, darkly good
looking man with eyes in which
there was a constant and aggressive
search.
“Don’t be afraid of him, Autumn,”
Linda piped up. "He was divorced
last year for preferring blondes.”
“Shut up!” said Florian agrees
bly.
“I’m not narrow-minded," Timo
thy assured Autumn. “My only kick
against the world is that there are
too many good-looking women in it,
regardless of coloring. A man can’t
get around to them all.”
“Timothy does his best,” Linda
jibed from her place on the swing.
“But what did your pater mean
by keeping you tied up over there
in the Old Country all these years?”
the elder Parr enquired.
“He probably thought it was for
my own good,” Autumn returned.
“But I’m awfully glad to be back
home again.”
“Hell, yes! I should think so!”
Elliot declared heartily. “There’s no
room over there for a girl like you.
You want space to move around in,
eh?” He turned away to enter the
house. “Well, make yourself at
home, my dear. Your mother had
many a good time in this house."
He disappeared through the door
way as he spoke and Timothy took
up the conversation as he poured a
cocktail and seated himself.
“Well, I've laid a substantial bet
against your chances in the game to
morrow, Florian,” he said. "Alex
Campbell seems to think you ought
to win.”
“Alex is a wise bird,” Florian
retorted. “We ought to nick them
for a margin of three goals, at
least.”
"Not with young Hutchinson back
in the line-up,” Timothy argued.
“He’ll ride you into the ground.”
“You haven’t a chance, Florian.”
Linda put in. “I have two bets
out against you.”
“Keep it up, you bounders!” Flor
ian laughed. He leaned toward Au
tumn. “It's a rule of the house.
They bet against me to keep the luck
on our side.”
Autumn looked at Timothy and
gave him a supercilious smile in re
turn for the challenge in his eyes.
“I’d like to put ten dollars on Flor
ian's team, even money,” she sug
gested.
“O. K.!” he said. “I don’t know
anyone whose money I’d rather
take.”
Autumn listened while the talk
centered on the fine points of the
game, and strove to be attentive to
it. Presently a Japanese, whose
face was an obliquely discreet mask,
appeared in the doorway and an
nounced dinner.
The sun had already set when they
left the table and drifted out again
to lounge about the porch.
Florian took Autumn’s arm and
led her down the crude stone steps
into the sunken garden, which was
a forgotten wilderness of flowers and
fern and tangled brambles. Here
were meadow rue, moss pink, for
get-me-not and roses, tall blue stee
ples of delphinium, and white foun
tains of spirea. Autumn involun
tarily drew her breath at the tum
bled beauty of the garden. At the
extreme end of it a spring trickled
over mossy stones and formed a
honey-colored pool in the early twi
light.
' BE CONTINUED)
Smart Neckwear With Simple
Foundation Dress Is ‘Style’
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
\X7HEN you go shopping keep re
* * pea ting over and over to your
self these words—"simple founda
tion dress of fine sheer wool, flatter
ing seductive neckwear to add the
sweetly feminine touch." Follow this
style formula and you can't go
wrong in matter of smart apparel
selection.
You see it’s this way, current fash
ion is in a be-a-lady mood and it
follows as the night the day that
when it comes to ladylike dress
lovely seductively feminine neck
wear is inevitable. So, apropos of
present fashion trends, the para
graphs following, together with the
accompanying illustration, will carry
the message of what’s showing these
days in the way of delectable col
lar and cuff sets, sports scarfs and
jewelry to wear with the new dress
of bright sheer wool.
Did you know that a cunning col
lar made of lustrous gold kidskin
is one of the newest neckwear notes?
Weil it is! See the "darling" one
shown above to the left in the il
lustration. This little two-bow gold
kid collar worn as it is with a sheer
wool, moss green dress, is the sort
that dolls you up in the twinkling of
an eye. And isn’t the little Sally
Victor sweetheart toque with its
velvet applique hearts winsome? We
think so. By the way, speaking of
gold kidskin, you can buy little bows
of it to wear in your hair or clip
to your pocket, or anywhere it
shows off to the best advantage.
Venise lace revers, snow white
and starched to crispness and with
lovely Val edging, as illustrated to
the right at the top, give the perfect
answer to what to wear with your
stylish basic wool frock. A dia
mond brooch and a suede bustle
hat complete the accessory ensem
ble.
A demure collar and cuff set of
handsome Venise lace, finished with
a pique fold, as pictured below to
the left, with your neatly styled
daytime frock label you as "a lady"
anytime. The gold clip and the mas
sive finger ring, the visor shaped
hat with its gold ornament are also
fashion highlights.
Fresh and crisp is the Venise lace
collar and cuff set with its embroid
ered pique flowers as shown below
to the right. It will give added
dash to vour new wool dress. Wear
it with a corded felt toque with vel
vet binding as pictured.
As to the nonchalant plaid scarf
of fine, soft, pure wool, centered in
the illustration, take note that the
ends are pulled through a gold ring
set with catseye.
Jewelry! It's too stupendous a
theme to unfold in words. So we
are simply inviting you to take a
look at the fetching necklace cen
tered above in the group. This dec
orative costume jewelry piece is of
gold with gold and a pearl pendant
set in blue cloisonne.
I (Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Velveteen Vogue
Velveteen is regarded as one of
the smartest fabrics in use this sea
son. Everything that can be made
of velveteen is being made of vel
veteen. It is so satisfactorily work
able and comes in such fascinating
colors and now that designers have
taken up the idea of velveteen they
are playing it up for ail it is worth.
The two-piece afternoon dress
shown is of royal blue velveteen, the
top stitched in Chinese red and
closed with silver buttons. The
heart-shaped felt chapeau is also in
Chinese red. This jacket can be
worn with different skirts.
War Creates Novel
Styles in Britain
The war has already killed the
bustle and the crinoline and all the
eccentricities sf dress that marched
in their wake.
These may be revived later when
the men returning from the front
demand that women shall be 100 per
cent feminine, but for the moment
the whole trend of dress is to be
“sensible.” Subdued colors, outfits
that match up with khaki uniforms,
high collars and long sleeves (even
for evening frocks) have replaced
the frills and flounces of the last
few months.
For the hour of the raid has been
designed the "air raid siren suit”—
a form of super workman’s overall
combining slacks and tunic. Step
into it, zip it up and you can hop
out of bed and remain in cold and
drafty places looking smart.
The suits are made in warm wool
ly material and are becoming.
Gorgeous Handbags
For Autumn Season
You can't “get by” with an ordi
nary handbag this season. Even the
bag you carry with your daytime
tailleurs will have subscribed to
some sort of fancy stitching, or
shirring and will show a novelty
touch in its mounting.
As to bags with dressy afternoon
costumes you will want one of the
dressmaker types of moire silk, not
plain tailored but with a fussy little
pleating or a jewel mounted frame,
or samething to give it the feminine
touch. Newest thing is the hand
some black velvet bag carried with
the velvet hat to match. Mayhap
it will have a rhinestone clasp, for
glittering rhinestone accent is latest
fashion. Evening bags are gargteoui
—glittering sequins, brocades, os
trich feathers, rich embroideries and
| all that sort.
Climb to the Attic
Brought Possibilities
By RUTH WYETH SPEARS
'"pHE bride came home, but not
to weep on Mother’s shoulder.
“There are too many bare spots in
our house,” she said; “and I want
to rummage in your attic.” “You
are welcome,” replied Mother,
“but you will find no antiques—
nothing there but junk.”
A golden oak dresser; a fish
bowl; an old portier; a chromo
in a wide gold frame; and an old
piano stool; were carted away.
Varnish remover and plain
drawer pulls transformed the
dresser into a good-looking chest
ATTIC
CORNER
• PICTURE C
A-hOOK
A~.iv
^CASING FOR
CURTAIN ROD
^-SRAID
TURN ‘EDGES W
MSS_
of drawers. A glazier put a mir
ror in the oval gold frame. Those
are dusky pink branches in the
flsh-bowl—lovely against the rose
red brocade hanging. The dia
gram shows how the hanging was
made from a part of the portier.
The edges were finished with dull
gold colored braid and fringe; and
it hung with matching cord, tas
sels and an ordinary curtain rod.
What became of the stool and the
mirror will be told next week.
NOTE: Readers who are now
using Sewing Books No. 1, 2 and 3
will be happy to learn that No. 4
is ready for mailing; as well as
the 10 cent editions of No. 1, 2 and
3. Mrs. Spears has just made
quilt block patterns for three de
signs selected from her favorite
Early American quilts. You may
have these patterns FREE with
your order for four books. Price
of books—10 cents each postpaid.
Set of three quilt block patterns
without books—10 cents. Send or
ders to Mrs. Spears, Drawer 10,
Bedford Hills, New York.
Wren Had Last Laugh
On Critical Councillors
Sir Christopher Wren, builder of
St. Paul’s cathedral, and many
other famous churches, was part
ly responsible for the Town Hall
of Windsor, in 1686, but the good
councillors had misgivings about
his work.
They complained to him that die
big hall had no pillars to support
it, and despite Wren’s assurances
that it had been designed that
way and was safe, demanded that
supporting pillars be placed in po
sition.
Wren agreed to do so, and had
four pillars erected. But some
years later it was discovered that
the pillars came one inch short of
reaching the ceiling.
LOSTYOURF
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tired feeling when associated with constipation.
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WITHOUT KISK druggist. Make the test—then
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refund the purchase
price. That's fslr.
Get NR Tablets today
Learning and Thought
Learning without thought is la
bor lost; thought without learning
is perilous.—Confucius.
Have You Acid Indigestion?1
St. Joseph, Mo. —
Mrs. Laura F. Wren.
1317 S. 15th St., says:
"Dr. Pierce's Golden
Medical Discovery
gives one a splendid
appetite and helps to
relieve gas on the
stomach and stomach
upsets due to excess
acidity. It has been of I
excellent benefit to me
an & to members of my family.'* Day it in
liquid or tablets from your druggist today.
Another’s Secret
\ may give to one I love, but
the secret of my friend is not mine
to give.—Philip Sidney.
Today’s popularity
of Doan's Pills,
many world
wide surely must
M B11 ■ ■ ■ B lie accepted as evidence
of satisfactory use.
And favorable public
opinion supports that
of riie able physicians
who test the value of
Doan’s under exacting
laboratory conditions.
These physicians, too, approve every word
of advertising you read, the objective of
which is only to recommend Doan's Pills
as i good diuretic treatment for disorder
of the kidney function and for relief of
the pain and worry it causes.
, It more people were aware of how the
hidneya must constantly remove waste
that cannot stay in the blood without in
jury to health, there would be better un
derstanding of why the whole body suffers
when kidneys lag, and diuretic medica
tion would be more often employed.
Burning, scanty or too frequent urina
tion sometimes warn of disturbed kidney
function. You may suffer nagging baok
ache, persistent headache, attacks of diz
ziness, getting up nights, swelling, puffi
ness under the eyes—feel weak, nervous,
all played out.
Use Doan’s Pills, It is better to rely on
a medicine that has won world-wide ac
claim than on something leas favorably
known. Ask your neighbor I
