Loup City Northwestern
4. W. BURLEIGH, Publisher.
LOUP CITY, - - - NEBRASKA.
What’s the Use?
Mark Twain, after a lifetime
[through which he has cheered and
■amused his countrymen, seems grow
!lng pessimistic in his age. Or is this
iwail, from the North American Re
view, merely the record of one ol
those moments of reaction to which
all humorists are subject: “A myriad,
of men are born; they labor and sweat
and struggle for bread: they squabble*
and scold and fight; they scramble
for little mean advantages over each
other; age creeps upon them; infirmi
ties follow; shames and humiliations
bring down their prides and their
vanities; those they love are taken
from them and the joy of life is
turned to aching grief. The burden'
of pain, care, misery, grows heavier
year by year; at length, ambition is
dead, pride is defied; vanity is dead;
rjnging for release is in their place.
It comes at last—the only unpoisoned
gift earth ever had for them—and
they vanish from a world where they
were of no consequence; where they
achieved nothing; where they were
a mistake and a failure and a fool
ishness; where they have left no sign
‘hat they have existed—a world
which will lament them a day and
forget them forever. Then another
myriad takes their place, and copies
all they did, and goes along the same
profitless road, and vanishes as they
vanish—to make room for another,
and another, and a million other my
riads to follow the same arid path
through the same desert, and accom
plish what the first myriad, and all
the myriads that came after it, ac
complished—nothing."
Tne Reign of Property.
Property, the sense of property, the
love of property, the regard for the
rights of individual property—all that
is undoubtedly the strongest element
in our Anglo-Saxon inheritance. The
Tights of property are better safe
guarded by law in the United States
than in any other civilized community
on the earth. Human life is cheap
.with us, but property can do almost
what it will, regardless of the com
mon good, of life itself. Next to us
among civilized nations in regard for
property come the English from
whom we inherit our reverence for
personal possessions. There is a dis
tinction, however, between the Eng
lish and the American attitude toward
property. Here in America we wor
ship money the raw medium of ex
change itself that can be counted in
figures and put in the bank; we don’t
say “a man of property" when we re
fer to a rich man, but we call him a
millionaire or a billionaire. We don't
think of his houses, his land, his fur
niture or his pictures, but of his dol
lars. The English think of all these
possessions into which money trans
lates itself. That, says the Saturday
Evening Post, is a sign of greater de
velopment; we shall come to that
idea, are coming to it. Again, in Eng
land there is one class that loves
property supremely and is identified
with it—the upper middle class. In
America we all love money, irrespec
tive of class, and speak in terms of
money.
The Captivating Widow
The discrimination in favor of the
widow finds ample justification, al
though it is probably accounted for by
the difTeernce between what is ex
pected of her and of her unwedded sis
ter. No responsibility as to attractive
ness rests upon the shoulders of an
unalluring spinster, and sensitive to
this depressing fact, she soon ceases
to practice the arts of pleasing and
relies for attention upon cultivated
personal satire, which quickly palls
upon one seeking a more gracious
form of amusement. The young
widow, on the other hand, realizing
that her shining qualities have been
duly heralded, is constantly alive to
the necessity of justifying her reputa
tion for vivacity, sweetness of disposi-.
tion, charm of manner, or daring
speech, as the case may be, and is in
duced by pride to exert her utmost
endeavors to make herself agreeable.
In this, says George Harvey, in Har
per’s Bazaar, she profits from the
American man’s chivalry to women
and fidelity to men, and is aided ma
terially by the convention of polite so
ciety, which accords her a much
wider range of topics than is permit
ted to her unfortunate rival, whose
coquetry must be veiled by seeming
innocence and becoming modesty.
The South Dakota men who have
been making love to a young man dis
guised as a woman and spending their
hard-earned money for presents have
a chance to make an awful example
of him for obtaining money under
false pretenses.
The roast bee? of old England
comes from America and is eaten
with thankfulness by our British
cousins, but it doesn’t compare with
the Southdown mutton, old chappie,
as an article of diet.
Dr. Schumacher, the German expert,
who has just completed the Kaisef
"Wilhelm course of reciprocal lectures
at Columbia university, has discovered
.that this country has a number of
serious problems to solve. In refin
ing from attempting to solve them for
us he shows that he has some
claims to distinction.
Denatured alcohol may right
in automobiling—only be
denatured kind. And that it
THE DELUGE
Bv DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS, Author of ~7HECOS&4c
(awB&rr jxs b&bs-isebbczl con&imo
CHAPTER XXI—Continued.
‘ Do not put me to the test,” 1
pleaded. Then I added what 1 knew
to be true: “But you will not. You
know7 it would take some one stronger
than your uncle, stronger than your
parents, to swerve me from what I
believe right for you and for me.” I
had no fear for "to-morrow.” The
hour when she could defy me had
passed.
A long, long silence, the electric
speteding soulhward under the arch
ing trees of the West Drive. 1 re
member it was as we skirted the low
er end of the Mall that she said even
ly: “You have made me hate you
so that it terrifies me. I am afraid
of the consequences that must come
to you and to me.”
"And well you may be,” 1 answered
gently. “For you've seen enough of
me to get at least a hint of what I
would do. if goaded to it. Hate is
terrible, Anita, but love can be more
terrible.”
At the Willoughby she let me help
her descend from the electric, waited
until I sent it away, walked beside me
into the building. My man, Sanders,
had evidently been listening for the
elevator; the door opened without my
ringing, and there he was, bowing
low. She acknowledged his welcome
with that regard for “appearances”
that training had made instinctive.
In the center of my—our—drawing
room table was a mass of fresh white
roses. ‘“Where did you get 'em?”
I asked him, in an aside.
"The elevator boy's brother, sir,”
he replied, “works in the florist's shop
just across the street, next to the
church. He happened to be down
stairs when I got your message, sir.
So I was able to get a few flowers.
I'm sorry, sir, I hadn't a little more
time.”
"You've done noble," said I, and
I shook hands with him warmly.
Anita was greeting those flow-ers
as if they were a friend suddenly ap
pearing in a time of need. She turned
now and beamed on Sanders.
‘“Thaak you, she said; "thank you.”
And Sanders was hers.
"Anything I can do—ma'am—sir?”
asked Sanders.
"Nothing—except send my maid as
soon as she comes,” she replied.
“I shan't need you,” said I.
“Mr. Monson is still here,” he said,
lingering. “Shall 1 send him away,
sir, or do you wish to see him?”
“I'll speak to him myself in a mo
ment,” I answered.
When Sanders was gone, she seated
herself and absently played with the
buttons of her glove.
“Shall I bring Monson?” I asked.
"You know, lie's my—factotum.”
"I do not wish to see him,” she
answered. .
"You do not like him?”
After a brief hesitation she an
swered, “No.” Not for worlds would
she just then have admitted, even to
herself, that the cause of her dislike
was her knowledge of his habit of
tattling, with suitable embroideries,
his lessons to me.
I restrained a strong impulse to ask
her why, for instinct told me she had
some especial reason that somehow
concerned me I said merely:
"Then I shall get rid of him.”
“Not on my account,” she replied
indifferently. "I care nothing about
him one way or the other.”
"He goes at the end of his month,”
said I.
She was now taking off her gloves.
"Before your maid comes,” I went on,
"let me explain about the apartment.
This room and the two leading out
of it are yours. My own suite is on
the other side of our private hall
there.”
She colored high, paled. 1 saw that
she did not intend to speak.
I stood aw’kwardlv, waiting for
something further to come into my
own head. "Good night,” said I fi
nally, as if 1 were taking leave of a
formal call.
She did not answer. I left the
room, closing the door behind me. I
paused an instant, heard the key click
In the lock. And I burned in a hot
flush of shame that she should be
thinking thus basely of me—and with
good cause. How could she know,
how appreciate even if she had
known? "You've had to cut deep,”
said I to myself. "But the wounds'll
heal, though it may take long—very
long.” And I went on my way, not
wholly downcast.
I joined Monson in ifiy little smok
ing-room. "Congratulate you,” he
began, with his nasty, supercilious
grin, which of late had been getting
on my nerves severely.
“Thanks,” I replied curtly, paying
no attention to his outstretched hand.
“I want you to put a notice of the
marriage in to-morrow morning's Her
ald.”
“Give me the facts—clergyman’s
name—place, and so on,” said he.
“Unnecessary,” I answered. “.lust
our names and the date—that’s all.
You’d better step lively. It's late,
and it’ll be too late if you delay.”
With an irrigating show of delib
eration he lit a fresh cigarette before
setting out. I heard her maid come.
After about an hour I went into the
hall—no light r.hrough the transoms
of her suite. I returned to my own
part of the flat and went to bed in the
spare room to which Sanders had
moved my personal belongings.
That day which began in disaster—
In what a blar.e of triumph it had
ended! I slept with good conscience.
I had earned sleep.
XXII.
- - “SHE HAS CHOSEN!”
Joe got to the office rather later
than usual the next morning. They
Ik Mi mmt
told him I was already there, but he
wouldn’t believe it until he had come
into my private den and with his own
eyes had seen me. “Well I’m jig
gered!” said he. “It seems to have
made less impression on you than it
did on us. My missus and the little
un wouldn’t let me go to bed till after
two. They sat on and on, question
ing and discussing.”
I laughed—partly because I knew
that Joe, like most men, was as full
of gossip and as eager for it as a
convalescent old maid, and that, who
ever might have been the first at his
house to make the break for bed,
he was the last to leave off talking.
But the chief reason for my laugh was
that, just before he came in on me,
I was almost pinching myself to see
whether I was dreaming it all, and
he had made me feel how vividly
true it was.
“Why don't you ease down, Black
lock?” he went on. “Everything’s
smooth. The business—at least, my
end of it, and I suppose your end,
too—was never better, never growing
so fast. You could go off for a week
or two, just as well as not. I don’t
know of a thing that can prevent
you.”
And he honestly thought it, so little
did I let him know about the larger
enterprises of Blacklock and Com
"I TOOK MY STAND 1
pany. I could have spoken a dozen
words, and he would have been
floundering like a caught fish in a
basket. There are men—a very few
—who work more swiftly and more
surely when they know they're on the
brink of ruin; but not Joe. One
glimpse of our real National Coal ac
count, and all my power over him
couldn't have kept him from showing
the whole Street that Blacklock and
Company was shaky. And whenever
the Street begins to think a man is
shaky, he must be strong indeed to
escape the fate of the wolf that
stumbles as it runs with the pack.
"No holiday at present, Joe," was
my reply to his suggestion. “Per
haps the second week in July; but
our marriage was so sudden that we
haven't had the time to get ready for
a trip.”
"Yes—it was sudden, wasn’t it?”
said Joe, curiously twitching his nose
like a dog's at scent of a rabbit.
“How did it happen?”
' Oh, 111 tell you sometime, replied
I. “I must work now.”
And work a-plenty there was. Be
fore me rose a sheaf of clamorous tel
egrams from our out-of-town custom
ers and our agents; and soon my an
teroom was crowded with my local
following, sore and shorn. I suppose
a score or more of the habitual heavy
plungers on my tips were ruined and
hundreds of others were thousands
and tens of thousands out of pocket.
“Do you want pie to talk to these peo
ple?” inquired Joe, with the kindly
intention of giving me a chance to
shift the unpleasant duty to him.
“Certainly not,” said I. “When the
place is jammed, let me know. I ll
jack ’em up.”
It made Joe uneasy for me even
to talk of using my "language”—he
would have crawled from the Battery
to Harlem to keep me from using it
on him. So he silently left me alone.
Toward ten o’clock, my boy came
in and said: “Mr. Ball thinks it’s
about time for you to see some of
these people.”
I went into the main room, where
the tickers and blackboards were.
As I approached through my outer
office I could hear the noise the crowd
was making—as they cursed me. If
you want to rile the true Inmost soul
•
I——^■—
of the average human being, don’t
take his reputation or his wife; just
cause him to lose money. There
were among my speculating custom
ers many with the even-tenored sport
ing instinct. These were bearing
their losses with philosophy—none of
them had swooped on me. Of the
perhaps three hundred who had come
to ease their anguish by tongue-lash
ing me, every one was a bad loser
and was mad through and through—
those who had lost a few hundred dol
lars were as infuriated as those
whom my misleading tip had cost
thousands and tens of thousands;
those whom I had helped to win all
they had in the world were more
savage than those new to my follow
ing.
I took my stand in the doorway, a
step up from the floor of the main
room. I looked all round until I had
met each pair of angry eyes. They
say I can give my face an expression
that is anything but agreeable; such
talent as .1 have in that direction I
exerted then. The instant I appeared
a silence fell; but I waited until the
last pair of claws drew in. Then I
said, in the quiet tone the army officer
uses when he tells the mob that the
machine guns will open up in two min
utes by the watch: “Gentlemen, in
the effort to counteract my warning
to the public, the Textile crowd rock
eted the stock yesterday. Those who
heeded my warning and sold got ex
cellent prices. Those who did not
should sell to-day. Not ev^n the
powerful interests behind Textile
can long maintain yesterday’s prices.”
A wave of restlessness passed over
the crowd. Many shifted their eyes
from me and began to murmur.
I raised my voice slightly as I went
on: “The speculators, the gamblers,
are the only people who were hurt.
Those who sold what they didn’t have
are paying for their folly. I have no
sympathy for them. Blacklock and
Company wishes none such in its
following, and seizes every oppor
tunity to weed them out. We are
in business only for the bona fide in
vesting public, and we are stronger
S' THE DOOK- WAY.”
with that public to-day than we have
ever been.”
Again I looked from coward to cow
ard of that mob, changed from three
hundred strong to three hundred
weak. Then I bowed and withdrew,
leaving them to mutter and disperse.
I felt well content with the trend of
events—I who wished to impress the
public and the financiers that 1 had
broken with speculation and specula
tors, could I have had a better than
this unexpected opportunity sharply
to define my new course? And as
Textiles, unsupported, fell toward the
close of the day, my content rose to
ward my norma] high spirits. There
was no whisper in the Street that I
was in trouble; on the contrary, the
idea was gaining ground that I had
really long ceased to be a stock
gambler and deserved a much better
reputation than I had.
I searched with a good deal of anx
iety, as you may imagine, the early
editions of the afternoon papers. The
tOOOOOOOOPgOOOCOCOOOOOOOOOO
first article my eye chanced upon
was a mere wordy elaboration of the
brief and vague announcement Mon
son had put in the Herald. Later
came an interview with old Ellersly.
“Not at all mysterious,” he had said
to the reporters. “Mr. Blacklock
found he would have to go abroad
on business soon—he didn’t know
just when. On the spur of the mo
ment they decided to marry.” A
good enough story, and I confirmed
it when I admitted the reporters. I
read their estimates of my fortune
and of Anita's with rather bitter
amusement—she whose father was
living from hand to mouth; I who
could not have emerged from a forced
settlement with enough to enable me
to keep a trap. Still, when one is
rich, the reputation of being rich is
heavily expensive; but when one is
poor the reputation of being rich can
be made a wealth-giving asset.
Even as I was reading these fables
of my millions, there lay on the desk
before me a statement of. the exact
posture of my affairs—a memoran
dum made by myself for my own eyes,
and to be burned as soon as I mas
tered it. On the face of the figures
the balance against me was appalling.
My chief asset, indeed my only asset
that measured up toward my debts,
was my Coal stocks, those brought
and those contracted for; and, while
their par value far exceeded my lia
bilities, they had to appear in my
memorandum at their actual market
value on that day. 1 looked at the
calendar—seventeen days until the
reorganization scheme would be an
nounced, only seventeen days'!
j jess man inree Dusmess weeKS,
and I should be out of the storm and
sailing safer and smoother seas than
I had ever known. "To indulge in
vague hopes is bad,” thought I, “but
not to indulge in a hope, especially
when one has only it between him
and the pit.” And I proceeded to
plan on the not unwarranted assump
tion that my Coal hope was a present
reality. Indeed, what alternative had
I? To put it among the future's un
certainties was to put myself among
the utterly ruined. Using as collat
eral the Coal stocks I had bought
outright, I borrowed more money,
and with it went still deeper into the
Coal venture. Everything or nothing!
—since the chances in my favor were
a thousand, to practically none against
me. Everything or nothing!—since
only by taking everything could I
possibly save anything at all.
Home! For the firist time since I
was a squat little slip of a shaver the
world had a personal meaning for
me. Perhaps, if the only other home
of mine had been less uninviting, I
should not have looked forward with
such high beating of the heart to that
cold home Anita was making for me.
No, I withdraw that. It is fellows
like me, to whom kindly looks and un
bought attentions are as unfamiliar
as flowers to the Arctic—it is men
like me that appreciate and treas
ure and warm up under the faintest
show or shadowy suggestion of the
sunshine of sentiment. I'd be a lit
tle ashamed to say how much money
I handed out to beggars and street
gamins that day. I had a home to
go to!
As my electric drew up at the Wil
loughby’s, a carriage backed to make
room for it. I recognized the horses
and the coachman and the crest.
‘“How long has Mrs. Ellersly been
with my wife?” I ask,ed the elevator
boy, as he was taking me up.
“About half an hour, sir,” he an
swered. “But Mr. Ellersley—I took
up his card before lunch, and he’s
still there.”
Instead of using my key, I rang
the bell, and when Sanders opened, I
said: “Is Mrs. Blacklock in?” in a
voice loud enough to penetrate to the
drawing-room.
As I had hoped, Anitg appeared.
Her dress told me that her trunks
had come—she had sent for her
trunks! “Mother and father are
i here," said she, without looking at me.
I followed her into the drawing
room and, for the benefit of the ser
vants, Mr. and Mrs. Ellersly and 1
greeted each other courteously.
though Mrs. Ellersly's eyes and mine
met in a glance like the flash of steel
on steel. “We were just going," said
she, and then I felt that I had ar
rived in the midst of a tempest of un
common fury.
“You must stop and make me at
visit,” protested I, with elaborate po
liteness. To myself I was assuming
that they had come to “make up and
be friends”—and resume their places
at the trough.
She was moving toward the door,
the old man in her wake. Neither of
them offered to shake hands with me;«
neither made pretense of saying goo#
by to Anita, standing by the window
like a pillar of ice. I had closed the
drawing-room door behind me, as I
entered. I was about to open it for
them when I was restrained by what
I saw working in the old woman’s
face. She had set her will on es
caping from my loathed presence with
out a “scene;” but her rage at hav
ing been outgeneraled was too frac
tious for her will.
(To be Continued.)
A Big Bargain for 12 Cents Postpaid.
The year of 1906 was one of prodigal
plenty on our seed farms. Never before
did vegetable and farm seeds return such
enormous yields.
Now we wish to gain 200.000 new cus
tomers this year and hence offer for 12c
postpaid
1 pkg. Garden City Beet.. 10c
1 “ Earliest Ripe Cabbage. 10c
1 “ Earliest Emerald Cucumber.... 15c
1 “ La Crosse Market Lettuce. 15c
1 “ 13 Day Radish. 10c
1 “ Blue Blood Tomato. 15c
1 “ Juicy Turnip . 10c
1000 kernels gloriously beautiful flow
er seeds . 15c
Total .$1.00
All for 12c postpaid in order to intro
duce our warranted seeds, and if you
will tend 16c we will add one package of
Berliner Earliest Cauliflower, together
with our mammoth plant, nursery stock,
vegetable and farm seed and tool catalog.
This catalog is mailed free to all in
tending purchasers. Write to-day.
John A. Salzer JSeed Co., Box W, La
Crosse. Wis.
Saved by a Song.
A boy was amusing himself by
watching the birds that were flying
around him. At length a beautiful
bobolink perched on a rough bough of
an apple tree near by.
The boy picked up a stone, and got
ready to throw it at the bird. The
bird's throat swelled, and forth came
the song: "A-link, a-link, a-link, bobo
ling, bobolink, a-no-sweet, a-no-sweet,
I know it, I know it, a-link, a-link;
don't throw it, throw it, throw it.”
And the boy did not throw the
stone, but dropped it on the ground.
"Why didn't you stone him, my
boy? You might have killed him and
carried him home.”
The little fellow looked up and re
plied, “Couldn't ’coe he sang so.”—
Puck.
Of Interest to Women.
Every woman naturally should be
healthy and strong, but a great many
women, unfortunately, are not, owing
to the unnatural condition of the lives
we lead. Headache, backache and a
general tired condition are prevalent
amongst the women of to-day, and to
relieve these conditions women rush
to the druggists for a bottle of some
preparation supposed to be particular
ly for them, and containing—nobody
knows what. If they would just get
a box of Brandreth's Pills, and take
them regularly every night for a time,
all their trouble would disappear, as
these pills regulate the organs of the
feminine system. The same dose al
ways has the same effect, no matter
how long they are used.
Brandreth's pills have been in use
for over a century, and are for sale
everywhere, plain or sugar-coated.
Henry Clay and Law Wallace.
“Mr. Clay was of a personality once
seen never to be forgotten. Tall,
slender, graceful, he bad besides the
air majestic which kings affect, im
agining it exclusive property.
“Throughout Mr. Clay's performance
my eyes scarcely left his countenance,
which, as he proceeded, sank from
sight until, by the familiar optical
illusions, nothing of it remained but
the mouth, and that kept enlarging
and widening until it seemed an elas
tic link holding the ears together.
Indeed, at this late writing, my one
distinct recollection of the man and
his speech Is the mouth and Us capac
ity for infinite distension."—Autobiog
raphy of Lew Wallace.
Laundry work at home would be
much more satisfactory if the right
Starch were used. In order to get the
desired stiffness, it is usually neces
sary to use so much starch that the
beauty and fineness of the fabric Is
hidden behind a paste of varying
thickness, which not only destroys the
appearance, but also affects the wear
ing quality of the goods. ’This trouble
can be entirely overcome by using De
fiance Starch, as it can be applied
much more thinly because of Its great
er strength than other makes.
Great Merchant Bom on Farm.
Like many other monarchs of trade,
William Whiteley, the London mer
chant who was murdered recently,
was born on a farm. It was his boast
that he stood ready to fill any order,
no matter how unprecedented. A
story is told of two army officers who
went into his great London store and
one of them asked for six elephants.
They were forthcoming and the man
who had bet they wouldn't be there
paid, though it turned out that the
winner had arranged with Whiteley
in advance.
Sheer white goods, in fact, any fine
wash goods when new, owe much of
their attractiveness to the way they
are laundered, this being done in a
manner to enhance their textile beau
ty. Home laundering would be equal
ly satisfactory if proper attention was
given to starching, the first essential
being good Starch, which has sufficient
strength to stiffen, without thickening
the goods. Try Defiance Starch and
you will be pleasantly surprised at the
improved appearance of your work.
Let each endeavor to be of use to
himself and others. This is not a pre
cept or a counsel, but the utterance
of life itself.—Goethe.
A tight man and a loose dog are
equally dangerous.
TO CUKE A COED IX OXE DAT
Take LAXATIVE BROMO Quinine Tablets. J>ruf
(fists refund money if it f ft lit to cure. K. u.
GROVE'S signature is on CftCb box. 23c.
While man wants but little here be
low, he never gets quite enough.
Smokers appreciate the quality value < f
j Lewis* Single Binder cif^ar. Your dealer
I or Lewis' Factory, Peoria, III.
__
Don’t be too sure of the man who
boasts of being sure of himself.
j Trappers’ Supplies Sold Cheap.
Write for catalog ami circular No. 9.
I N. W. Hide it Fur Co., Minneapolis, Minn.
It’s a waste of time to cut the ac
quaintance of a man who is insult
! proof.
Defiance Starch is the latest inven
i tion in that line and an improvement
on all other makes; it is more eco
nomical, does better work, takes less
time. Get it from any grocer.
Some valuable farthings were sold
at Sotheby’s auction rooms tLonuon)
recently. A Charles II. pewter farth
ing sold for $50, and an Oliver Crom
well farthing in copper for $45.
By following the directions, which
are plainly printed on each package of
Defiance Starch, Men’s Collars and
Cuffs can be made just as stiff as de
i sired, with either gloss or domestic
! finish. Try it, 16 oz. for 10c, sold by
all good grocers.
—
Also Gives Away Libraries.
James J. H. Gregory of Marble
; head. Mass., is a rivai of Andrew Car
negie in the giving away of libraries.
He has been doing this for years. H:s
libraries are smaller than Carnegie’s
gifts and are given to small communi
\ ties, to ministers and educators wbo
carmot afford to purchase them.
In a Pinch, Use ALLEN’S FOOT-EASE. ^
A powder. It cures painful, smart
ing, nervous feet and ingrowing nail*.
It’s the greatest comfort discovery of
the age. Makes new shoes easy. A
certain cure for sweating feet. Sold
by all druggists, 25c. Trial package, 4
FREE. Address A. S. Olmsted, Le
Roy, N. Y.
Handy.
Young Poet (to creditor wbo pre
sents a bill—Oh. how good of you.’ I
was looking everywhere for a T)iece
of paper upon which to write a won
derful thought which has just come
to me, and you drop down like aa an
gel from heaven!
$100 Reward, $100.
The readers of thi* paper will be pleaded to learn
that there l»*at lea-t one dreaded dUe«w*e that science
has been able to cure In all iw staged, and that la
Catarrh. Hall's Catarrh Cure is the only po>lt've
care now known to the medical fraternity Catarrn
being a constitutional disease, require.-* a constitu
tional treatment. Hail's Catarrh Cure is taken id
ternslly. acting directly upon the blood and inuc ms
surfaces of the system, thereby destroying th»
foundation of the disease, and giviig ’.he patient
strength by building up the constitution and ash -
ing nature in doing Its work. The proprietor- have
•o much faith in its curative powers tbar they of?»*r
One Hundred Dollars for any case that it fails to
cure. Send for list of testimonials.
Address F. J. CHESEV «fc CO., Toledo, O.
Sold by all Druggists. 75c.
Take Hall's Family Fills for constipation.
Connecticut’s Bad Record.
Connecticut is usually regarded as
a safe and pleasant place to live in,
and yet it had 43 murders in 1906,
where Maine had only two. To be
sure, Connecticut has more people
than Maine, but not so very many
more; it has fewer than 1,000,000,
while Maine has 725,000. It is fair
to state that it was an unusually bad
year for the old Nutmeg state in this
respect, as its 43 murders are more
than it ever had before In a single
year, and 17 more than the annual av
erage for the last decade.—Kennebec
Journal.
MIX THIS AT HOME.
Valuable Prescription Which Anyone
Can Easily Prepare.
The following simple home-made
mixture is said to readily relieve and
overcome any form of Rheumatism by
forcing the Kidneys to filter from the
blood and system all the uric acid and
poisonous waste matter, relieving at
once such symptoms as backache,
weak kidneys and bladder and blood
diseases.
Try it, as it doesn’t cost much tc
make, and is said to be absolutely
harmless to the stomach.
Get the following harmless ingredi
ents from any good pharmacy: Fluid
Extract Dandelion, one-half ounce;
Compound Kargon, one ounce; Com
pound Syrup of Sarsaparilla, three
ounces. Mix by shaking well in a bot
tle. and take a teaspoonfui after each
meai and again at bedtime
This simple mixture is said to give
prompt relief, and there are very few
cases of Rheumatism aad Kidney
troubles it will fail to cure perma
nently.
These are all harmless every-day
drugs, and your druggist should keep
them in the prescription department;
if not, have him order them from the
wholesale drug houses for you, rather ^
than fail to use this, if you are af- \
flicted. _
We make nothing; we only form
and discover what is already there,
but which without our assistance can
not release itself from shapeless
chaos.—Auerbach.
ENGLISH TO BE WORLD SPEECH
All Other Tongues Give Way to Mod
ern Demand for Homely Language.
From the Columbia State.—By
“homely” we here mean partaking of
the nature of home, and not plain or
ugly. Wordsworth thus speaks of
“the homely beauty of the good old
cause.” So often in life we find that
It is the homely, the thing soiled and
perhaps stained with daily use, rather
than the fine thing, the great and the
high thing, that endures. Why? Be
cause it is humanized; its very stains
revealing to all that it is fit for daily
use. Affection has touched it, love has
handled it, and it is immortal.
This principle has often been illus
trated -v history, and it is being illus
trated every day by one of the most
remarkable phenomena in all history—
the endurance of a language apparent
ly the least fitted to survive of all the
widely spoken tongues of the human
race. We see that in Japan, in China,
in India, in France, in Germany—
throughout the world—people are
learning English. The language that
has no grammar, only a mass of ex
ceptions to every rule and principle of
human speech; a language that has
no system of spelling, that is unspell
able, that is harsh, is supplanting the
languages of people that outnumber
the English speakers as four to one,
is driving German from the chancel
leries. It seems vain to devise new
tongues to render intercourse more
facile; they can make no inroads up
on our homely English speech. It is
homely, and it survives.
All the smooth an beautiful and per
fect languages pass away. The ex
quisite idiom of Iran, or ancient Per
sia, has lost its tongue; Arabic, the
most elastic and, in many respects,
the most wonderful of all languages,
is passing swiftly from desert and tent
and mosque; and Greek, finest of all
languages, richest in meaning, in
fruits, is spoken in a decadent dialect
by a decadent people. The hard,
rough languages that grate the tongue
like a file, that would have made Quin
tilian stare and gasp, these have some
chance of survival, and of these the
English is the most uncouth and cha
otic. It will, therefore, endure and it
may yet become the speech of the
whole civilized world.
