I I
^ --
I •••_ t V-J*rnx ' Ira ' «4er» —-1 a Cnderwood. N. V.
IM'» vu<4 head covering for opera ar.l theater wear with high peak
ed < < » t- .■-«? of 'be aoTdtln for tht coming winter season This
fcooJ - »*rv litti- *:.•! in addition ’"keeping the wearer warm, will keep
t » » or trim r> tig a bo.’ When removed the hood can be stuffed in the
■Kill of COM pocket
FCR SERVING TARTAR SAUCE
Mca Put tuto Use Or Ore Hottest
V'Cuid itt« to H«»e Many
<*ood Points.
A gi<d idea for tn*- eerr-.ng of *ar
tar uuore of mayonnaise ia suggested
t » i» eat* rpniau-g house* ife She
Cat* a lemon us half, clean* out the in
».* thoroughly and then fills the
Mm with the sauce She serves
U* tark guest. When fish or sal
ad la served the little 1-mun cups are
l-isred around the edge of the platter
esc cue is taken by each guest. In
this uar the sauce is kept firm and
strong instead of meittag Into a liquid
when put ta a hot plate
For the Lome uhere guest* are al
ways striving and departing there is
lr.ithang quite so nice for the windows
»> white cotton crepe This may be
n.-npo hemmed or trimmed with ball
h it «e For the dressers and bureaus
Covers of fleece lined pique will be
foetid very satisfactory This may
I fa* into the required size and the
€ fg»-* tasttimholed an scallops Two
»• ;> tf curtains and covers should be
l pt tc Laud, one ia use and a clean
se e beside*
FOR YOUNG GIRL
V->
Am effective tittle boose dress this
I, sde is Nile green cashmere
It has a Users' bodies? trimmed s
swrt »Uh embroidered galloon whirl
I* staled to #t; it i* also taken don
la a *V zad trim* sleeves sad form:
The skirt t« eased to this
Material* r-v}a:r-J 2b« yards cash
bet* 44 •orb'd vide. 2‘* yards gal
hos. Hi doses hatloas
Vopos of Black Satm.
'rVrt is n> sign of black satin ga
leg oat of taaluob The govas u
black salts possess a fascioaUoi
which is sot «vuM In fancy silks
3tor is this fabric too somber, for 1
m«I he rtlend hr vhMe lace or m»r
lies re Iso-inch bands at «Ul* moos
sseioe. |tu4wi»| aa effect of sin
11 4y that is very appealing
Rad is Worm
Is»» red shades are coming more u
ft" iroad than vu anticipated ttrlle
la the stance
PROPER DEGREE OF NEGLECT
So-retime* Hard. Even for the Wisest
Mother, to Know When to Draw
the Line.
' Wholesome' neglect is about the
h-st kind of care a child can receive,”
ehe said. "And my children have all
had plenty of it!”
The other mother was so impressed
by the words cf the mother of seven
healthy children that she actually be
gan to practice a little bit of “whole
i neglect with her own ewe lamb
Oce lay the little girl came running
o h'-r with a cut finger Formerly
that mother would have called in a
an to bind up the cut. But hav
ng decided to make use of “whole
some” neglect, she merely took out
n-r handkerchief, wrapped it around
'be childs finger, dried her tears, and
told her to run back and play.
The mother of the seven children
happened to be prssent. When the
little girl had run away she said to
the other mother. “That is a very dan
gerons way to treat a cut. Do you
usually follow that practice?”
-v^." replied the other mother; “I
j usually send for the doctor. But I
am following your example, and using
wholesome* neglect."
The other mother meditated a mo
ment. and then she said. “It is not
necessary. J think, to call in a doctor
! when a child cuts her finger; but to
bind it up with a handkerchief that
has been carried even for a few hours,
exposed to dust, and not to cleanse
the finger thoroughly before binding
it up at all. seems to me. if I may say
so. to be not -wholesome' but “un
wholesome' neglect. So many per
sona." she went on. "confuse whole
some' with unwholesome' neglect. I
don't blame them at all; It is hard
»-**>* to know the one from the
other!”—Home Progressive Magazine.
Return of the Tiny Hat.
:■ the tiny hat coming back again?
This is the question that many wo
men are asking themselves at pres
j ent and w hich might already be said
, To have been answered in the affirm a
I five.
It is a tong time since we have
really g^rea the tiny hat a chance of
impress.:,r its good qualities upon us.
Nevertheless. it certainly has its pros
as well as its cons The absence of
any soft shade which deepens the tone
j of the eyes and %oftens hard lines and
unsightly crews' feet, is one of the
latrer; but, on the other hand, the
minute hat which sets well down on
the head can be so fixed and arranged
".at i- wl!l retain its place even in a
high wind, and is undeniably more
comfortable than the large model.
__
Feather Toque*.
!t seems as though a hat made of
j Mahers should be light, and so the
plcmsge toques are in actual weight;
but they have a heavy look, thanks to
'heir compactness, and this is not be
i coming Nevertheless they will be
| »‘*T fashionable up till Christmas.
, and are already obtainable in many
>lors and shapes. Very few of them
ha.e brims, but nearly all belong to
tb. saucepan, the pudding basin or the
oca! scuttle persuasion.
Their only trimming is in nearly
every case a little knot of brilliant
feathers at the side, culled from a
tropic bird.
i Artistic Merits of Chiffon.
In no material can be obtain better
L color results than In real chiffon. The
wide choice of shades in this ethereal
material transcends that provided by
- J any other fabric.
in the revival of historical and pic
j taresque models we are greatly aided
by rhe compliant softness of modern
► fabrics, which lend themselves to the
r c raping so much in vogue with every
kind of gown.
SYNOPSIS.
The scene at the opening of the story is
laid in the library of an old worn - ut
southern plantation, known as the Bar
ony. The place is to be sold, and its
history and that of the owners, th*
(Juintards. is the subject of discussion b.
Jonathan Crenshaw, a business man. a
stranger known as Bladen, and Bob
Yancy. a farmer, when Hannibal Wayne
Hazard, a mysterious child of the old
southern family, makes his appearance.
Yancy tells how he adopted the boy. Na
thaniel Ferris buys the Barony, but the
Quintards deny any knowledge of the
boy. Y'ancy to keep Hannibal. Captain
Murrell, a friend of the vjuintards. ap
pears and asks questions about the Bar
ony. Trouble at Scratch Hill, when Han
nibal is kidnaped by Dave Blount. Cap
tain Murrell's agent. Y'ancy overtakes
Blount, gives him a thrashing and secures
the boy. Y'ancy appears before Squire
Balaam, and Is discharged with cost* for
the plaintiff. Betty Malroy. a friend of
the Ferrises, has an encounter with Cap
tain Murrell, who forces his attentions on
her. and is rescued by Bruce Carington.
Betty sets out for her Tennessee home, j
Carrington takes the same stage. Yancy j
and Hannibal disappear, with Murrell on ;
their trail. Hannibal arrives at the home
of Judge Slocum Price. The Judge recog
nizes in the boy. the grandson of an old
time friend. Murrell arrives at Judge's
home. Cavendisn faintly on raft rescue
Y'ancy. who is apparently dead. Price
breaks jail Betty and Carrington arrive
at Belle Plain. Hannibal's rifle discloses
some startling things to the judge. Han
nibal and Betty meet again. Murrell ar
rives in Belle Plain. Is playing for big
stakes. Yancy awakes from long dream
less sleep on board the raft. Judge Price
makes startling discoveries In looking up
land titles. Charley Norton, a young
planter, who assists the Judge. Is mys
teriously assaulted. Norton Informs Car
rington that Betty has promised to marry
him. Norton Is mysteriously shot. More
Ught on Murrell s plot. He pians upris
ing of negroes. Judge Price, with Hanni
bal. visits Betty, and she keeps the boy
as a companion. In a stroll Betty takes
with Hannibal they meet Bess Hicks,
daughter of the overseer, who warns
Betty of danger and counsels her to
leave Belle Plain at once. Betty, terri
fied. acts on Bess' advice, and on their
way their carriage is stopped by Slosson
the tavern keeper, and a confederate, and
Betty and Hannibal are made prisoners.
The pair are taken to Hicks' cabin, in an
almost inaccessible spot, and there Mur
! rell visits Betty and reveals his part in
the plot and his object. Betty spurns
his proffered love and the interview is
ended by the arrival of Ware, terrified
at possible outcome of the crime. Judge
Price, hearing of the abduction, plans ac
tion. The Judge takes charge of the
situation, and search for the missing ones
Is instituted. Carrington visits the judge
1 and allies are discovered. Judge Price
I visits Colonel Fentress, where he meets
Y'ancy and Cavendish. Becoming enraged.
Price dashes a glass of whisky into the
colonel's face and a duel is arranged. Mur
i rell is arrested for negro stealing and liis
bubble bursts. The Judge and Mahaffy
discuss the coming duel.
CHAPTER XXVII.—(Continued.)
He waited now for the night to
come, and to him the sun seemed
hied in the heavens. At Belie Plain
Tom Ware was watching tt with a
shuddering sense of the swiftness of
its flight But at last the tops of the
tall trees obscured it; it sank quickly
then and blazed a ball of fire beyond
the Arkansas coast, while its dying
glory spread aslant the heavens, turn
ing the flanks of the gray clouds to
violet and purple and gold.
With the first approach of darkness
Carrington made his way to the shed.
Hidden in the shadow he paused to
listen, and fancied he heard difficult
breathing from within. The door ’
creaked hideously on its wooden
binges when he pushed it open, but as
it swung back the last remnant of
the day's light showed him some dark
object lying prone on the dirt floor.
He reached down and his hand rested
on a man's booted foot.
"George—” Carrington spoke softly,
but the man on the floor gave no sign
that he heard, and Carrington's ques
tioning touch stealing higher he found
that George—if it were George—was
lying on his side with his arms and :
legs securely bound. Thinking he
slept, the Kentuckian shook him gent
ly to arouse him.
“George?” he repeated, still bend
ing above him. This time an inartic
ulate murmur answered him. At the j
same instant the woolly head of the
negro came under bis fingers and he
discovered the reason of his silence, j
He was as securely gagged as be was
bound.
•'Listen. George—tfs Carrington—1 !
am going to take off this gag. but
don't speak above a whisper—they i
may hear us!" And he cut the cords i
that held the gag in place.
"How yo' get here. Mas’r Catng
ton?” asked the negro guardedly, as
the gag fell away.
“Around the head of the bayou."
“Lawd!" exclaimed George, In a
tone of wonder.
“Where's Miss Betty?”
"She's In the cabin yonder—fo'
the love of God, cut these here other
ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Caington
—I'm perlshln' with 'em!" Carring
ton did as he asked, and groaning.
George sat erect. "I'm like 1 was
gone to sleep all over.” he said.
“You’ll ieel better In a moment. Tell
me about Miss Malroy?"
j “They done fetched us here last
night. I was drivln' Missy Into Ral
eigh—her and young Mas'r Hazard—
when fo’ men stop us in the road."
"Who were they, do you know?”
asked Carrington.
"Lawd—what’s that?”
Carrington, knife in hand, swung
about on his heel. A lantern’s light
Cashed suddenly In bis face and Bess
Hicks, with a low startled cry break
ing from ber lips, paused In the door
way. Springing forward, Carrington
seized her by the wrist.
“Hush!" he grimly warned.
“What are you doin’ here?” demand
ed the girl, as she endeavored to shake
off his hand, but Carrington drew her
Into tbe sbed. and closing tbe door.
Fet bis back against It. There was a
brief silence during which Bess re
garded the Kentuckian with a kind of
, , I
PRODIGAL
JUDGE
\By Vaughan Kester.
/LUSTQvrrars By LlMelyju
f vwwf r&r r«.vw Com***
He Was as Securely Gagged as He Was Bound.
stolid fearlessness. She was the first
to speak. “I reckon you-all have come
after Miss Malroy," she observed
quietly.
“Then you reckon right," answered
Carrington. The girl studied nun
from her level brows.
“And you-all think you can take
her away from here,” she speculated.
“I ain't afraid of yo’ kniie—you-all
might use it fast enough on a man.
but not on me. I'll help you." she
added. Carrington gave her an in
credulous giance. “You don't believe
me? That would fetch our men up
from the keel boat. No—yo-all’s knife
wouldn't stop me!”
“Don't be too sure of that." said
Carrington sternly. The girl met the
menace of his words with soft, full
throated laughter.
“Why. yo- hand's shakin' now, Mr.
Carrington!”
1 UU RUUW UiC .
"Yes. I seen you once at Boggs'."
She made an impatient movement.
“You can't do nothing against them
fo’ men unless I help you. Miss Mal
roy's to go down river tonight;
they're only waiting fo' a pilot—you
all's got to act quick!"
Carrington hesitated.
“Why do you want Miss Malroy to
escape?" he said.
The girl's mood changed abruptly.
“I reckon that's a private matter.
Ain't it enough fo’ you-all to know
that 1 do? I'm showing how it can
be done. Them four men on the keel
boat are strangers in these parts,
they're waiting fo' a pilot, but they
don't ^now who he'll be. I've beard
you-all was a river-man; what's to
hinder yo' taking the pilot’s place?
Looks like yo' was willing to risk yo'
life fo' Miss Malroy or you wouldn't
be here."
"I'm ready," said Carrington, his
hand on. the door.
“No. you ain't—Jest yet," interposed
the girl hastily. “Listen to me hrst.
They’s a Uugout tied up bout a hun
dred yards above the keel boat; you
must get that to cross in to the other
side of the bayou, then when yo're
ready to come back yo’re to whistle
three times—it's the signal we're ex
pecting—and I'll row across fo’ you In
one of the skiffs."
“Can you see Miss Malroy in the
meantime?"
“If I want to, they’s nothin’ to hin
der me," responded Bess sullenly.
-Tsii her then—" began Carring
ton, but Bess interrupted him.
“I know what yo' want She ain't
to cry out or nothin' when she sees
you-all. I got sense enough fo' that."
Carrington looked at her curiously.
"This may be a serious business for
your people.- he said significantly.
' and watched her narrowly.
“And you-all may get killed. I reck
in if yo' want to do anything bad
enough you don't mind much what
comes after,” she answered with a
bard little laugh, as she went from
; the shed.
"Come!” said Carrington to the ne
gro. when he had seen the cabin door
! close on Bess and her lantern; and
they stole across the clearing. Keach
: ing the bayou side they began a noise
less search for the dugout. which they
quickly found, and Carrington turned
| to George. "Can you swim?” he
i asked.
"Yes. Mas'r.”
'Then go down into the water and
drag the canoe farther along the shore
—and for God's sake, no sound!” he
cautioned.
They placed a second hundred
yards betwen themselves and the keel
boat in this manner, then he had
| George bring the dug-out to the bank,
and they embarked. Keeping within
the shadow of the trees that fringed
the shore, Carrington paddled silent
| ly about the bead of the bayou.
"George,” he at length said, bend
ing toward the negro; “my horse is
i tied in the woods on the right-hand
| side of the road just where you were
taken from the carriage last night—
you can be at Beile Plain inside of an
hour.”
"Look here. Mas'r Caington. those
folks yonder is kin to Boss Hicks. If
he gets his hand on me first don’t
you reckon he'll stop my mouth? I
been here heaps of times fotchinj let
ters fo’ Mas'r Tom." added Georgs.
“Who were the letters for?” asked
the Kentuckian, greatly surprised.
•They was fo- that Captain Murrell:
seems like him and Mas'r Tom was
mixed up in a sight of business"
"When was this—recently?” in
quired Carrington. He was turning
over this astonishing statement of the
slave over in his mind.
; “Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they
ain't so thick here recently.”
“I reckon you'd better keep away
from the big house yet a while,” said
Carrington. "Instead of going there,
stop at the Belle Plain landing. You U
find a raft tied up to the shore; it be
longs to a man named Cavendish. Tell
him what you know—that I've found
l Miss Malroy and the boy; tell him to
I
cast off and drift down nere. I'll run
the keel boat aground the first chance
1 get, so tell him to keep a sharp
lookout-"
CHAPTER XXVIII. "
The Keel Boat.
A few minutes later they had sepa
rated, George to hurry away In search
of the horse, and Carrington to pass
hack along tbe shore until be gained
a point opposite the clearing. He
whistled shrilly three times, and after
an interval of waiting heard the
I splash of oars and presently saw a
I skiff steal out of the gloom.
"Who's there?" It was Bess who
asked the question.
"Carrington." he answered.
“Lucky you ain't met the other
man!" she said as she swept her skill
| alongside the bank.
"Lucky for him, you mean, i'll take
tbe oars," added Carrington, as ne
entered the skiff.
Slowly the clearing lifted out of the
darkness, then the keel boat became
distinguishable; and Carrington
checked the skiff by a backward
stroke of the oars
‘‘Hello!” he called.
There was no immediate answer to
his hail, and he called again as he
sent the skiff forward.
“What do you want?” asked a surly
voice.
"Yon want Slosson!" quickly
prompted the girl in a whisper.
"I want to see Slosson!" said Car
rington glibly and with confidence.
“Who be you?"
“Murrell sent you.” prompted the
giri again, in a hurried whisper.
"Murrell—" And in his astonish
ment Carrington spoke aloud.
■'Murrell?" cried the Toice sharply.
“—sent me!" said Carrington quick
ly. as though completing an unfin
ished sentence. The giri laughed nerv
ously under her breath.
"Row closter!” came the sullen
command, and the Kentuckian did as
he was bidden. Four men stood in
the bow of the keel boat, a lantern
was raised aloft and by its light they
looked him over. There was a mo
ment's silence broken by Carrington,
who asked:
"Which one of yoq Is Slosson?"
“I'm Slosson." answered the man
with the lantern. The previous night
Mr. Slosson had been somewhat un
der the enlivening and elevating in
fluence of corn whisky, but now he
was his own cheerless self, and rath
er jaded by the passing of the hours
which he had sacrificed to an irk
some responsibility. "What word do
you fetch from the captain, brotner?"
he demanded.
"Miss Malroy is to be taken down
river," responded Carrington.
Slosson swore with surpassing flu
ency.
|«ja» , "V * ^ ^ —
risking our necks to oblige him! iou
can get married a damn sight easier
than this if you go about it right—l ve
done it lots of times “ Not under
i standing the significance of Slosson s
j allusion to his own matrimonial ca
reer, Carrington held his peace The
i tavern-keeper swore again with un
[ impaired vigor. “You'll find mightj
1 few men with more experience than
‘ me.” he asserted.^shaking his head.
| "But it you say tSe word—”
"I'm all for getting shut of this!”
. answered Carrington promptly, with
j a sweep of his arm. “1 call these
| pretty close quarters!"
Still shaking his head and mutter
! ing, the tavern-keeper sprang ashore
, and mounted the bank, where his
slouching figure quickly lost itself in
the night
Carrington took up his stavioi <■*
the flat root of the cabin which filled
i the stern of the boat
“If I'd only pushed my quarrel with
him!” he thought bitterly.
He heard Slosson’s shuffling step in
the distance, a word or two when be
spoke gruffly to some one. and a mo
ment later he saw Betty and the boy,
their forms darkly silhouetted against
the lighter sky as they moved along
the top of the bank. Slosson. witn
out any superfluous gallantry, helped
his captives down the slope and
aboard the keel boat where he locked
them in the cabin, the door of which
fastened with a hasp and wooden peg.
“You're boss now. pardner!" he
said, joining Carrington at the steer
ing oar.
I “We'U cast oft then.” answered
Carrington
Thus far nothing had occurred to
> mar his plans. If they could but quit
the bayou before the arrival of the
man whose place he had taken the
rest would be. if not easy of accom
plishment. at least within the realm
of the possible,
^ “1 reckon you're a river-man?" ob
served Slosson.
“All my life"
The line had been cast off. and the
crew with their setting poles were
forcing the boat away from the bank.
AH was quietly done; except lor an
occasions’ order from Carrington no
word was spoken, and soon the un
wieldy craft glided into the sluggish
current and gathered way. Mr Sles
sen. who clearly regarded hts relation
to the adventure as being of an offl
cia! 'character, continued .to stand at
j Carrington's elbow.
(TO BE CONVINCED-!
Overwork Is Great Folly |
Words of Two Prominent Men That
Should be Considered by Every
Busy Person.
Woman can rail at the folly of
jverwork and she gets scant beed.
Here is what two prominent men have
to say about it. Whether they prae
j tice as they preach is best known to
themselves, but the sentiment is all
: right.
Chauncey Depew has said: T do not
j believe in overwork, and the body can
: not endure it.”
Kirkham, is his “Recources,” writes:
! nf we do not play enough It is be
S cause we are overfond of business
and because the modem ideal is, not
a well-rounded man of elevated mind,
healthy body and divers resources, but
a ftch man, a man of property—oi one
resource only. Another reason is. piay
implies leisure, and leisure is the
cardinal heresy against the religion of
trade, the dogma of business The
orthodox view is a life of constant el
Xjit, followed by retirement and rest
The fruit of that doctrine is a host of
prematurely old men. synical, dyspep
tic, nervously depleted, without re
sources, but with money; that is to ;
say, dead men."
If Instead of nagging, the worrying
wife or mother has those two para
graphs stuck In the mirror of the man
whos° overwork is rankest folly, she
may make an impression before the
overstrain has earned its sure penalty
of a bad breakdown.
Removal of Tattooing.
Until the present time it was
thought that tattooing on the skin was
of a permanent character, but it is
said that a French army officer haa
discovered a process which, if care
fully followed, will take these marks |
from the flesh so effectually that they 1
cannot be detected by any means what- J
ever The process consists of first
rubbing the skin until s thin layer of
the surface is won away, then apply
tag a mixture of lime, slaked Just be
fore use. and powdered phosphorus
The tatooed part haring been coated
with this paste, a piece of gauze is
laid over it, covered with a bandage.
The dressing is removed after 4$
hours. The scab is allowed to dry
in the air. and comes away in about
a fortnight, without leaving a scar. If
any trace of the tattooing thee re
mains. the treatment t repeated The
discoverer claims to have applied this
treatment in a great many cases with
perfect success.
Bas-Reliefs of the Stone Age.
Some large bas-reliefs daring from
the Stone Age have Just been dia
covered at Lanosel. in the French prov
ince of Dordogne. They are scu.p
tared on the rock of a shallow grot
to. and solely represent animals It is
thought that the primitive sculptors
probably refrained from introducing
the human figure in art by a tabu
similar to the present Mohameian
tabu on such representation The
animals shown in the reliefs are rein
deer. oxen, bisons. and a huge horse
of prehistoric dimensions.
■ Not the Real Thing.
From a city apartment little Jack
was going ior the first time to spend
Christmas at his grandfather’s farm.
As he ran ap the steps of the oid
house his grandmother caught him uu
, in her arms and put him down, rosy
and laughing, hetore the great log fire
in the living room
-isn’t that fine. Jackie. boy?- she
said "You don’t have big log fires
like that In New York, do youT"
Tbe boy looked witn wide-eyed de
: light at the huge logs as they mazed
; and crackled in the generous old ttie
i place, but be was stancbiy ioyai to
i his “six rooms and bath."
“it's nice, grandma, but it’s only an
imitation gas log. isn’t it? IAe have
reai ones lb my house '—Lippiacou »
Less Poetic.
As I was walking along the s’feet
! 1 saw a little giri who usually inter
ested me. and i said to her: “What a
\ bnght little girl you are; 1 can Just
■ see the sunbeams playing all j»er
! your face." She looked up laughing
'and said “Hum! My mamma calls
i tuose freckles.'—Exchaaa*.
A Sick Man /
ess~--- * ~ Writes Dr. Hart
man About
Kidney
Disease.
A gentleman
writes me: "I
was greatly in
terested in your
article describ
ing the Kauff
man case of
serious disease
of the kidneys.
The description
of his case ex
actly outlines
my condition. I
am sure if Pe
S. B. Haitman, M. D. rUna CUfed hl®
as yor. say. It
would cure me also. I am losing
flesh rapidly and the doctors say I
have every symptom of Bright's dis
ease of the kidneys. If you think I
would be benefited by Peruna I will
certainly try some as the doctors have
practically given me up, the same as
! they did him.”
In reply I wish to say. first, that I
never make any promises as to what
Peruna will cure. No physician can
make positive statements of that sort.
I can say this much, however, if I
were in your place I should certainly . - r
give Peruna a trial. I know of no
j other remedy that would be so likely
I to be of use to you in your present
! condition as Peruna. Take a table
spoonful before each meal and at bed
| time. Continue this for two or three
weeks and then if there is anything
you wish to ask me further write me
and I will give your letter prompt at
tention.
If I find that the Peruna is not
helping you I will be perfectly frank
and tell you so. for I would not have
you take Peruna unless it was really
helping you. But it has rescued so
many cases of kidney disease that I
am Quite confident you will find It ex
actly suited to your case.
Kidney disease begins with catarrh
of the kidneys. Peruna is a catarrh
remedy. Unless the destruction of the
kidneys is already too great Peruna
relieves the catarrh and the cause of
the kidney disease is removed.
I shall anxiously await a report of
your case. Remembdr, all letters are
sacredly confidential. I never use any
one's name or address without his
written consent. My correspondence
Is absolutely private.
Pe-ru-na. Man-a-lin and La-cu-pia
i manufactured by the Pe-ru-na com
1 pany, Columbus, Ohio. Sold at all
drag stores.
SPECIAL NOTICE.—Many persons Inquire \
for The OM-time Peruna. They want the \
Peruna that their Fathers and Mothers used \
to take. The oid Peruna Is now caiied Ka
tarao. If your drngrpist or dealer does not
keep it for sn:# write the Katarno Company,
Columbus, Ohio, and they wiU tell you all
about it.
Cough, Cold
SoreThroat
- Sloan's Liniment gives
quick relief for cough, cold,
hoarseness, sore throat,
l croup, asthma, hay fever
! and bronchitis.
HERE'S PROOF.
j Ms. Albert W.pRiCE,of Fredonla,
! Kan., writes : 44 We use b man's Lini
nieut in the family anti find it an ex
cellent relief for colds and hay fever
l attacks. It stops coughing and aneea
ing aanost instancy.
SLOANS
LINIMENT
I REUEVED SORE THROAT.
Mrs. L. Brewer, of Modelk»,Fla^
writes: “ I bought one bottle of your
Lin:men: and it d d me all tha good in
the world. My throat vu very sore,
j and it cured me of my trouble.1' X
GOOD FOR COLD AND CROUP.
Mr. W H. Strange, JTi’i Elmwood
ij Avenue. Chicago, 11L. writes: “A lit- |
tie boy next door had croup. I gave
the mother Sloan's Liniment to try.
j She gave him three drops on sugar
before g^ir.g to be*!, and he got up
j without the croup In the morning.**
Price, 25c., 50o.t $1MO
Sloan’s ■'
V Treatise
M on the
S Horse S'
P" sent free.
Addra*
Dr.
artS. Soan ;
Ore From Boston.
"Pa. was Job a doctor?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then who do people have so much
to say about the patients of Job?”—
Boston Transcript.
Dr. Pierre’s Pellets, small, sugar-coated,
easy to take as candy, regulate and inrigorate
stomach, liverand bowels. Do not gripe. Adv.
Probably a woman tells secrets so
that she won't forget them.
FOUT KIDNEY PULS
Are Raciacst :n Curatrrc Qualities
FOR BACKACHE. RHEUMATISM.
KIDNEYS AMO BLADDER
Nebraska Directory
HosherLaropman Business College
OMHrfibr Modifier.bot-lMf tbs l'bits' Sai<> w - -
li.»»»f<iruBJirv i. m-iioT-MTuu ••*«. Mn'mn
As miar. bwm» n uirtu, uuju, m«*-i ■
THE PAXTONS®
Bs- ras from fl.00 no *inel«S 3 cent* Tip double
CATt PRICES XXASOMABLI
QSIpniQCr CCRED in a few davs
51411 I USlCi without pain or a tur
peal operation. Ho pay until cured Write
OR. WRAY, 301 Bee Bid*, Omaha. Neb.
TELEGRAPH pSKSE
, fc“rT, *5*" ** If you gmic your mining
la mricmii. Piirr.cfoi mliuii wlm. AiUm.
BOYLES l OLIJCbR
; HOI HARNEY ST, OMAHA. NEBRASKA
WANTED
-wo young men to enter training
for professional work. Reasonable
salary during training period. Add.
*t. Bcaj. F. Bailej SaaeieHnw. Uaceta, Neh.
