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] THE FATAL REQUEST ||
jj OR FOUND OUT I
I By A. L. Hurrl* Author of "Mino Own Familiar Friend,” ate.
Copyright, 1991, by C a > n e l l t'ubiiehing Company.
ij Copyright, l » o x , bystreet «t Smith. ;
CHAPTER XVIII.—Continued.
"Wait a bit." was the impetuous
answer, "there is more to come still."
He told him about the visit to th3
detective, and the detective's opinion
1 of the matter. Then, with a little hesi
tation in his manner, he related his
strange experience on the night of his
return: the voice which he heard tell
ing him where to loo!;, and the discos- j
cry of the photograph in the very :
place indicated. Having reached this |
point in his narrative he paused to ■
judge of the effect it had produced !
upon his hearer.
Dr. Cartwright said nothing, and i
Ted went on to tell how the imperfect !
copy of the letter, which he had made |
himself from the remains of the
original, had been completed and filled
up in another hand.
The doctor withdrew himself Into
ambush, as it were, behind his spec
tacles. Then he opened his mouth—
“A remarkable co-”
“No, hang it all!” was the interrup
tion; “don't let 113 have any more
coincidences: I'm sick of the very
sound of the word. Call it anything
you like but that."
Dr. Cartwright shook his head. "But
what else could it be? My profession
al opinion"—in quite another tone of
voice—"is. that the sooner you hand
this room over to the housemaid the
better. Meanwhile, suppose you show
me the original document that was
burnt ?”
The young man produced it front
the same secret hiding place as before,
and laid it out before him without a
i word. There was silence for some
moments, which was only broken by
♦he sound of the doctor’s voice, as he
repeated the words to himself, as he
succeeded in deciphering them. At
ine end of five minutes he gave it up.
"It's of no use puzzling my brains
u '.hl a. u .u, i
.■Mi—wwiwniria miiiwhiiii —ii^
time, there is an explanation pos
sible."
“And that is?"
“That in your sleep this arrange
ment suggested itself to your mind so
forcibly, that you were able to retain
the impression on waking, and, what
you thought you read with your out
ward eyes was. in actual fact, only
visible to those of your imagination.”
The young man gave an impatient
sigh. “Have it your own way. Of
course l can't expect you to accept my
statement as the truth."
"My dear fellow!” said the doctor.
Let us both agree to maintain our own
without seeking to disturb the other’s
opinion. But. for all that, I should
like, if you have no objection, to sub
mit the origin of this discussion to
two tests, and, if you have a micro
scope anywhere about the premises
and can also procure a lamp, as there
is no fire in the grate, we can pro
ceed with the investigation at once.”
Both articles were forthcoming
with very little delay.
The doctor examined the blank
spaces on the paper carefully through
the microscope, then shook his head.
"There is no sign of any writing but
your own. I suppose you will stick
to your original opinion in spite of
this?”
“1 do.” was the answer, given most
emphatically.
”1 thought you would,” answered his
friend. “I suppose that now you have
told me all there is to be told?” He
rose from his chair.
“Keep your seat,” said the young
man; "I have not done with you yet.
First, give me your pledge of secrecy.”
The doctor, somewhat puzzled, gave
his promise.
“Now,” said Ted, "where is the
morning paper?"
“I left it in the other room. Do
l" " ' ' ^HitmMM
“No sign of any writing but your own.”
and injuring my eyesight over this
any longer. Let me see your copy
of the letter—that mysterious copy
which the ghostly hand filled in for
you. I suppose you have kept it under
lock and key ever since?”
I have done better than that,” was
the answer. ‘T have carried it about
my person ever since.”
i ‘ I suppose you have some specimens
f,’ of your late father’s handwriting that
may compare it with?”
jBk His friend put his hand to his breast
Jacket and produced an envelope.
•JB’This is it,” he said. ”As to rom
^laring it with any other writing, it
happens that, without noticing it. I
made the copy upon the back of a
sheet of paper upon which my father
had written the first words of a letter
—a letter, which, for some reason or
another, was never finished.”
The doctor took the envelope which
k was fastened down, opened it and
T drew ou't the lnclosure. As he held it,
* the other man could see on ihe outer
page the date, “April 23d," and the
words, “My dear—” He watched the
doctor's face. He saw Its expression
change from interest to bewilderment,
and felt that he was triumphing over
the scepticism which had possessed
his friend at the outset. “You notice
the difference in the two handwritings
in which the copy is made?' he asked.
“You observe that part of a sentence
is written in one and the rest in an
other?"
“Well, I can’t quite say that I do,”
was the unexpected reply.
“What do you mean?"
“Why, it’s plain enough. Ixtok
here!” The doctor held the sheet
of paper out toward him.
He saw the broken, incoherent sen
tences which he had himself written.
He saw and recognized his own hand
writing. The other had disappeared.
4f, CHAPTER XIX.
Dr. Jeremiah Is Astonished.
For a moment there Was a dead
silence. Then the young man. still
holding the sheet of paper in his hand,
dropped into the nearest chair, and the
same words fell from his lips which
he had uttered before under somewhat
similar circumstances—“Am I going
| mad?”
“Not at all.” was the cheerful re
sponse. “Don't you see?" he went on.
clapping him on the back. "You
dreamt it; that was all.”
The other raised a haggard face
toward him. “But how about the writ
ing which I saw, and ol which, even
though it has now mysteriously disap
. < peared, I can recall every word.”
m "It certainly is very strange," said
^Dr. Cartwright. "But, at the same
I I
yon want it?”
"Yes. I’ll get It,” he replied, and
quitted the room.
"Read that advertisement, doctor."
he sa'il, when he returned, and he
handed the paper to the physician.
Dr. Cartwright read blindly through
a small announcement among the
“Situations Vacant.” and then looked
wonderingly up at the young ni l.
“I’m going to apply,” said Ted.
“What!” gasped the doctor. “You
mean to say that you're going to trick
yourself out as a servant on the off
chance of locating your father's mur
derer. Why, you're mad, sir, mad.
Here, let me read the thing again:
‘Man-servant wanted at once. Apply
j personally. .J. Ferrers. Belmont
j House, Hampstead.' ”
“Ferrers.” broke in Ted, impulsive
ly. "That name of all names. There
can be no mistake. I tell you I'm
going to apply for that situation, and
so get a chance to study the man.”
“Very well,” said Dr. Cartwright,
after a pause. "Go ahead with your
plan, and I'll help you all I can. I'll
explain that business has made it nec
essary for you to leave home for a
time.”
With Ted, to think was to act. and
he wasted no time in shaving off his
mustache and repairing to Belmont
House. He created such a favorable
impression that he was at once in
stalled in his new position under the
assumed name of Edwards. He was
not able to discover anything for
many days. Mr. Ferrers kept his
room for the most part, and was care
ful to lock the door when he left for
; even the shortest lime. With great
difficulty. Ted—or Edwards, as we
1 must now call him—got. an impression
I of the lock and had a key made, but
could yet find no opportunity to use it.
But one tremendous discovery "Ed
wards," the man-servant, made, and
one which he had not anticipated.
When his eyes fell on Agnes Ferrers,
the pretty daughter of the man he
was tracking down, his heart was no
| longer in his keeping. He had first
| seen pretty Agnes Ferrers in the
! Royal Academy, and the smile she had
I then given him for returning a drop
j ped program had set his pulses throb
1 blng and stamped her image on his
so'.il. Now, by a strange caprice of
fate, he was brought irto touch with
her again, but they were not on equal
footing now. She was mistress, he
was a servant—nay. more, a spy.”
Besides, had he not sworn to avenge
his father's murder. The situation
was torture.
"It. cannot he." he groaned. "I may
not—I must not love her. 1 have my
mission."
But, try as he would, he could not
altogether hide I1I3 affection. His
eyes followed Agnes about, and if she
did not notice it, there was one other
who did. Tills was Perkins, the house
keeper. who hud ever been suspicions
of “the young man.'1 Not for a mo
ment did she allow him to escape her
pert scrutiny, and he was often handi
capped in his task by her prying eyes.
He dared not make any prolonged
search, for Perkins would have had
him denounced as a thief, and ho
should probably have been dismissed.
Then came a break in his attempt to
unravel the mystery. His mother was
taken seriously ill, and he hastened
home, only in time to hear her dying
message. When the funeral had con
cluded ho returned to his task, leav
ing his sister in L)r. Cartwright's care.
CHAPTER XX.
Extracts from a Young Man's Diary.
“I find my self-imposed task harder
and more torturing to my feelings
than ever. Heaven knows how I am
to muster strength and determination
to carry it through. As it is, 1 am
torn by conflicting feelings; my reso
lution varies a hundred limes a day.
I only returned to my situation two
days ago. I had fully determined in
my own mind, before doing so, ihut
the only way in which to remain mas
ter of myself was to put myself, as
far as possible, beyond the reach of
temptation, by allowing myself to see
as little of, and by holding no sort of
communication whatever with, the en
chantress, who has made havoc of my
sternest and most justifiable resolu
tions, and taken my heart and brain
captive.
"I returned to this house full of the
resolution of keeping my plan and pur
pose constantly before me—of remem
bering whose son I was and whose
daughter she is. And how long did I
keep faith with myself? How long
did I preserve this precious resolve
inviolate? Only until she encountered
me—quite unavoidably on my part—
and, animated by some celestial sym
pathy and divine impulse, sjK)ke to
me of my mother, pitied my
sad bereavement, ‘wished she
could have done something, and
even went so far as to say that she
'could sympathize with me, because
she was half-orphaned herself!’
“‘Poor fellow!’ I heard her murmur
to herself as she turned awrny.
“‘Poor fellow!’ What title would
she bestow upon me if she knew the
truth—the truth, which must out
sooner or later? Villain! Spy! Be
trayer!
"But I must not allow myself to
think of this, for, if I do, I am lost.
Let me employ my pen on some other
and less distracting subject.
"1 have made a discovery since my
return—or. rather, it has been made
for me. One of the first items of in
formation worthy of notice, which I
received from cook, who was appar
ently bursting with that and a sense
of her own added importance, in hav
ing played such a prominent part in
the affair, was 'Ixtr’! now, whatever do
yon think, young man? Master's been
and made 'is will, which I was the
chief witness.’’
“This was a piece of news worth
having. Why has he suddenly taken
this step? What does he anticipate?
Does be begin to fear man’s vengeance
or God’s? Is he menaced by some
mortal illness, the chances of which
I have before contemplated, or does
he mean to commit suicide and thus
elude the just punishment which
might await the discovery of his
crime?
(To he continued.)
Wonderful Human Hand.
The human hand is so beautifully
formed, it has so fine a sensibility,
that sensibility governs its motion so
correctly, every effort of the will is
answered so instantly, as if the hand
itself were the seat of that will; its
actions are so free, so powerful, and
yet so delicate, that it seems to pos
sess a quality instinct in itself, and
we use it as we draw our breath each
moment, unconsciously, and have lost
all recollection of the feeble and ill
directed efforts of its first exercise,
by which it has been perfected, in
the hand are twenty-nine bones, from
the mechanism of which result
strength, mobility and elasticity. On
the length, strength, motion and mo
bility of the thumb depends the
power of the iiand. Without the
fleshy ball of the thumb, the power of
the fingers would avail nothing, and,
accordingly, the large ball formed by
the muscles of the thumb is the dis
tinguishing character of the human
hand.
Italy’s King as a Sportsman.
The King of Italy is devoted lo all
outdoor sports, more especially ten
nis, shooting, yachting, motoring and
fishing. There is a story that once
on returning from a very bad day's
fishing, the King met. a poor man who
had been very much more successful.
The King stopped the man and asked
for a light. The man noticed thal the
fish the King was carrying were few
in number and small, and, not recog
ni/.ing the King, chaffed him on his
had luck. “You might be the King."
said the man. "with that little lot."
"Why?" asked the King, slightly em
barrassed. "Well," said the man.
"everyone knows that he's all right as
a King, but he's no sportsman."
Spain Is Waking Up.
A recent, report from Bilbao states,
that there is a very strong possibility
I of the import trade in nitrate of soda
anti sulphate of ammonia for agricul
ture purposes being considerably in
ti-eased, owing to the efforts to im
prove the methods of cultivation in
Spain. About 4,000 tons of nitrate
are used every year at Bilbao in the
production of acids ami cS.-emical
manure.
' Ki:-| ’
fcJwsv Lifts Othsk M&n , !
. itiL.---_^ia ,
It is not often that Mr. Fletcher
buys a new hat two days In sueees
sion. He wouldn’t have had to buy
them this time if he had not been
such a coward. At any rate, Mrs.
Fletcher claims that was the reason,
although Fletcher holds that he was
guiltless of cowardice and that nine
out of ten self-respecting men would
have behaved just as he did.
It all came about, as a result of
Fletcher's New Year's resolution. The
resolution was not really his, lmt his
wife’s. She cut it out of a magazine
and gave It to him to paste in his hat.
Fletcher had just bought a new derby
bat that day. and lie objected to de
facing its crown.
"But you can paste it on the inside,"
argued Mrs. Feltcher.
'Yes," said Fletcher. "That's where
I think it will go if 1 paste it in at all.
It .would bo rather conspicuous on the
outside. But i don't want it anywhere.
It won't do me any good to make a
resolution. I'll break it right i.way.
I always do."
“But you really ought to try to keep
this,” she urged. "Just read it and
see what it is about."
Fletcher took up the clipping she
had laid on the table and read it
aloud:
"Resolved. That I will do all In my
power the coming year to please my
wife.”
Mrs. Fletcher nodded encouraging
ly.
"Well,” said her husband presently.
"I don’t see why you want to label me
with that. It Isn’t in the least appro
priate. I always try to please you.
and. besides. I'd feel beastly uncom
fortable going around with a copy
book quotation of that kind stuck in
my hat. Supposing my hat should
blow off some time and give the fel
lows a chance to see the clipping?”
In the end, however. Fletcher's ar
guments proved unavailing, and the
resolution to promote domestic felic
ity was pasted in the crown of his new
derby hat. The day after his capitula
tion was a bad one for hats. Mr.
Fletcher’s derby came in for its share
of buffeting. Twice it was lifted from
his head and blown into the faces of
passersby, who caughl It and returned
it v. itli uncompMinentary remarks.
The third time h was less fortunate.
Fletcher was st» tiding on the rear
platform of a Hrmdway car when a
howling blast of wind made straight
at him and sent his own hat. in com
pany with two others, careening down
the street. A small boy gave chase
to the fugitive headgear. Two of the
lints got the start of him and were
sent whirling into the chaotic depths
of a vacant lot. the third lodged in an
angle of a board fence. The boy pick
ed It up and ran after the car. A
man who stood jammed against the
railing reached out and took the hat.
! He hauled it in bottom side up. and in
so doing read the New Year's resolu
| t:on.
"By George!" lie said, “one of you
fellows must be kept in leading
strings all right. Which one of you
is it that is so ground down that you
have to paste the badge of submission
in your hat?”
The three bare-headed men ex
changed glances.
“Not guilty," said the heavyweight
blonde. "1 am not married.”
Fletcher and the third man were
left to settle it between them. The
third man was shabby. He eyed the
new derby longingly. Fletcher red
dened and shuffled uneasily. The
shabby man noticed the signs of con
fusion and embraced his opportunity
variantly.
"It's mine." he said.
Tiie shabby man left the ear at the
next crossing. Fletcher watched him
go with a kind of despair. He had
paid $5 for the hat and its loss under
such humiliating circumstances af
flicted him sorely. Still, he had de
nied it once, thus making reclamation
impossible.
Fletcher bought a second derby ex
aetly like the first. He hoped thereby
to deceive his wife and prevent her
discovering the exchange, but she
noticed the absence of the resolution,
and by degrees wormed the whole
story out of him. Then was when she
called him a coward, but Fletcher
maintains that there was no other
way out of the difficulty with horor to
himself and his sex.—New York
Times,
I The Man-Eating glam~
Bailors are proverbially fine romanc
ers. One who recently returned from
a voyage In the South Pacific tells
tthis story of a narrow escape from
death when caught In a living trap on
one of the little islands there.
"The ship," he said, "had stopped at
the island fuj- water, and I was walk
ing along the beach at low tide, look
ing for shells and other sea curiosi
ties. I reached a rock which at high
ttide was under water and started to
climb around it, without thought of
danger and without paying much at
tention to the surroundings. As I
turned the corner of the rock I felt
my foot slip on something soft; there
was a snap, and the next instant I
discovered that. 1 had carelessly walk
ed into one of the great moilusks or
sea clams, which are to be found at
low tide along the coasts of those
islands.
"These clams are over three feet in
diameter, and the muscles which hold
their great shells together are like
steel springs. When I stepped into
the open dam the two shells shut
up with a snap, imprisoning me as in
a vise. The edges of the shell caught
me above the knees, and at first I
thought i would faint from the pain.
Then I tried to push tlie shells open.
I might as well have tried to pry open
the doors of a locked Iron safe with
my bare hands.
"1 had a clasp knife, and, drawing
this out, I attempted to cut the
muscle which held the shells together.
But 1 couldn’t quite reach It, and
every lime I made a stab the shells
would close tighter than ever. I
have sailed the seas a good many
years and been in bad places before
but never one where things looked
so hopeless as they did then. There
was no use in calling for help, al
though cf course, I did, for I had wan
dered up the beach nearly a mile
from where the rest were.
"But what at first looked like my
greatest peril proved my salvation
In the end. The tide was coming In,
and unless I could escape from this
living trap l would be drowned. I
thought. So I redoubled my efforts
with the knife. They were useless.
The tide kept creeping up. Then It
Anally reached the part of the giant
clam where was the muscle which
contracts and expands the two shells.
To my surprise and joy, when the
water reached this muscle it relaxed,
only a little, to he sure, but enough
so that I could manage to pull out my
leg. It was the tightest squeeze I
was ever In. you may believe.”
We all know' the clam-eatlng man,
but this is the first hear l of a man
eating clam.—New York Press.
g " TT ■ - .
The Rose Jar’s Scent
--- 1 1 1 11
Just n subtle brenth of roses, just the
faintest whiff of rose leaves.
In the mistiness of twilight stealing
softly l hi oiigh l h " room
From the jar of olden ehinH that has
held for years the. sweetness
Of a ih ad and vanished summer and its
delicate perfume.
Oh, the wings of fancy flitter nnd the
thoughts go trav'ling backward
With a mingled pain and pleasure to
Hie days of long ago.
When tin roser> was tended by a maiden
fair and holy
Whom you si rved. as Jaeob I.aban, for
a flaming Jacqueminot.
You re member her llrst token w as a pale
rose anel u white one.
And you bowed as to some seraph as
you took It from her grace.
Truth the rose was cold, though lovely,
but Its frost was some atoned for
Ky the warmth of all the blush In the
half-averted face.
Her next token was a pink rose—some
thing more than you had hoped for.
Something less than l.ove demanded
for his goblet's shining brim—
Them you kiss' <1 the lady's fingers and
you vowed yourself to patience
As you kissed ih" lady's lingers that
were very white' and slim.
Then Hie best of all, the red one—oh, the
flaming, velvet red one!—
That she gave with such u trembling,
such a fjulv'rlng little smile.
Hut the eyes were straight and Hteadfnst
and you knew through all the play
ln*r
That twas more than rose she gave
you for your keeping all the while.
Oh, the rose of velvet petals! Oh, the
lovely, flaming June rose!
Oh, the rose of ruby color, that Is like
a human heart!
Then you plucked the scarlet blossom of
her lips, that love had opened.
Oh, thp doulde-petaled flower thut her
love had blown apart!
Oh. the fragrance of the rose Jar. with
Its dead and buried treasure!
How II floats upon the stillness of the
twilight of the room
Till you seem to touch her fingers—till
you almost seem to see her
Coming toward you from the mystery,
the silence and the gloom!
Oh. the joys that, like the roses, blos
somed brightly, blossomed bravely,
Willie and pink and flame of scarlet,
hut whose hiauty bright Is fled!
Only now and then to greet you, with a
message tender, coming
Like the fragrant breath of perfume
from the roses that are dead.
—Waterbury American.
The Four Leaved Shamrock.
The New York Tribune thus re
marks:
“A shamrock Ir a trefoil. How can
there be a Shamrock IV?
Here iu this country when a gentle
maiden plucks a "four leafed clover"
she tucks it into her shoe and devout
ly believes that the first man she
walks with will be her future husband.
Some men will never pass one of these
specimens, because they believe they
are “lucky.” It is barely possible that
the shamrock, which is closely allied
!o the clover family, has this same
tendency to put forth an extra leaf oc
casionally. That is for the botanists
to answer. Hut it will certainly be no
breach of scientific etiquette for Sir
Thomas Mpton to send over a boat
which will suggest the four-leaved
clover, even though he may be going
counter to the tradition of the Irish
plant. He is certainly entitled to all
the good luck running, and no one will
blame him for stretching a point of
fact just a trifle if he decides to build
a new Shamrock. i
' t
Tin Ore In tha Transvaal.
It is reported from Johannesburg
that a new and unexpected source of
wealth has been discovered in the ter
ritory of the late Boer republic. Near
tin eastern border of the Transvaal,
on the ledge of the Ipfty South African
plateau, three valuable lodes of tin
ore have been found, and the deposits
am apparently so extensive that pre
dictions are heard that the new colony
may prove to be as ricli in tin and cop
per as it is already known to he in
gold.
No chromos or cheap premiums,
but a better quality and one-third
more of Defiance Starch for the same
price of other starches.
American Apples in Germany.
Last year witnessed a groat in
crease in the imports of American ap
ples into Germany. For the first
eight months of 1902 the imports
were 3,696 metric tons of 2.204 pounds
each, against 214 tons and D43 tons
during the mine months in 1902 and
1901. Of American dried fruit, baked
and simply preserved, the German im
ports for the same period were 25,251
tons, against 11,981 and 12.060 tons,
respectively, in 1902 and 1901.
PUTNAM FADELESS DYES color
Silk, Wool and Cotton at. one boiling.
Fatal British Climate and Cooking.
The climate of England kills half
the oppulalion. according to London
Truth, the cooking kills the rest.
Throughout (he world, wherever thero
is the sun or a spring, there are Eng
lish men and women endeavoring to
repair their constitutions. The medi
cine hill of the English people—to
gether with its accompanying ex
penses—is sufficiently large to support,
a second-rate power and does mainly
Btipporf many large and small towns
on the Continent and elsewhere.
The Wonderful ('mm Separator.
Does Its work in thirty minutes and
leaves less than 1 per cent butter fat.
The price Is ridiculously low, accord
ing to size, *2.75 to *«.00 each, and
when you have one you would not part
therewith for fifty times Us cost.
JUST SEND THIS KOTICB
with Go stamps for postage to the John
A. Salzer Seed Co.. La Crosse. Wts.. and
get their big catalog, fully describing
this remarkable ('ream Separator, and
hundreds of other tools and farm seed*
used by the farmer. (W. N. U.)
The easiest way to outwit a liar is
to tell the truth.
Story cf a Missionary.
A capital story has been told by
an American missionary who lias just
arrived in London from Korea. The
difficulty in learning the language of
that country is increased eaurmnusly
owing to the large number ol words
which, with a slight Inflection of tbo
voice, are used over and over again
with an entirely different meaning.
The missionary in question was
preaching to some natives, and assur
ing them that unless they repented
they would go to a place of punish
ment. Amazement rather than terror
was written on the faces of his ori
ental listeners. Why on earth, if
they rejected, his advice and refused
to repent, should they be dispatched—
to the local postofflee! On another
occasion a lecture was delivered, in
the course of which a beautiful moral
was being drawn from the gay ca
reer of the tiny butterfly which was
suddenly cut short in the clutches of
the spider. The smile, however, fell
somewhat short of its intended mean
ing, an* it was not until the laughter
had subsided that the lecturer be
came aware that the victim which
had been floundering amid the dainty
silken threads of the web was a
donkey, which in the Korean language.
It appears, is synonymous with butter
fly.
Even the silk-covered umbrella has
its Ups and downs.
DIDN’T BELIEVE
That Coffee Was the Real Trouble.
Some people flounder around and
take everything that’s recommended
to them but finally find out that cof
fee is the real cause of their troubles.
An Oregon man says:
“For 25 years I was troubled with
my stomach. I was a steady coffee
drinker but didn't suspect that as
the cause. I doctored with good doc
tors and got no help, then I took
almost anything which someone else
had been cured with but to no good. I
was very bad last summer and could
not work at times.
“On December 2, 1902, I was taken
so bad the Doctor said I could cot live
over twenty-four hours at the most
and I made all preparations to die. I
could hardly eat anything, everything
distressed me and I was weak and sick
all over. When in that condition cof
fee was abandoned and I was put on
Postura, the change in my feelings
came quickly after the drink that was
poisoning me was removed.
“The pain and sickness fell away
from me and I began to get well day
by day so 1 stuck to it until now I am
well and strong again, can eat heartily
with no headache, heart trouble or the
awful sickness of the old coffee days.
I drink all I wish of Postum without
any harm and enjoy it immensely.
“This seems like a wonderfully
strong story but I would refer you to
the First National Bank, The Trust
Hankirg Co., or any merchant of
Grant’s Pass, Ore., in regard to my
standing and I will send a sworn state
ment of this if you wish. You can
also use my name.’’ Name givon by
Postura Co., Battle Creek. Mich.
Still there are many who persistent
ly fool themselves by saying “Coffee
don't hurt me," a ten days’ trial of
Postum in its place will tell the truth
and many times save life.
“There's a reason.”
I.ook for the little bcok “The Road
to Wellville” in each package.
