The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, December 12, 1912, Image 6
POINTED WAY TO SALVATION Preacher’s Advice Was All Right but His Friend Also Had Something Wise to Say. Senator Samuel A. Ettelson, speak ing recently at a banquet, told the fol lowing: . “A colored preacher stood up on a Sunday and said, ‘My text this morn ing, brothers and sisters, am ‘‘What shall 1 do to be saved?” To me there seems only one way to be saved, and that am to quit this'ere extravagant living. Back to the simple life, say I. There am going to be no chance for you to be saved so long as you keep up this high living. If there is any thing that is going to kill our race it Is these’ere luxuries. Better go hun gry and cold like the wolf. Go out and face the rains and fight the storms. Go wade like the crane. You will grow rugged and you will grow tough, but you'll walk like a man. Yes, sir, that am de way to salvation, that am de way to get saved.' “Just then a tail colored mhn, ris Ing from his pew in the rear of the church, interrupted the prqacher, shouting: 'This am no way to be saved. You just jump right through that back window and run just as fast as your legs will carry you, for the county sheriff am here with a war rant for your arrest for stealing them chickens from Massa Martin's coop last Friday night.’ ”—Chicago Tribune. Not Used to “High Life.” An old farmer was in London visit ing his son, who had got on in the world, and who kept a large house, servants, etc. When the two sat down to dinner the first night a manservant waited upon them, and was most assiduous In his attentions to the old farmer After watching his antics for a bit the guest exclaimed: “What the mischief are ye dancin' about like that for? Can ye not draw in yer chair and sit down? I’m sure there’s enough here for the three of ue.”—London Mail. A FREc SURPRISE BOX. In another part of this paper yot will find a large ad of the Loose-Wilei Biscuit Co., Omaha, Neb. They offer to send to any reader a box of assort ed biscuits absolutely free. Don’t miss this opportunity.’ Cut out the coupon from their ad and mail it today. Real Thing. Who was this great god Pan you read about who worked on pipes?” “I guess he was a boss plumber.” Every woma;i should have an aim In life, even if she can't throw a stone with any degree of accuracy. Liquid blue is a weak solution. Avoid it. Buy Red Cross Ball Blue, the blue that’* all blue. Ask your grocer. Adv. Borrowed money often causes a total loss of memory. It’s a genuine surprise party if any one has a good time at it. TIRED BLOOD SHATTERS THE NERVES (Copyright 1912 by the Tonitives Co.) Nervous Strain tires the blood, and Tired Blood starves the nerves, pro ducing Neuralgia, Neuritis, Brain Fag, Nervous Headache, Melancholia, Hys teria, Sleeplessness, Nervous Prostra tion, Neurasthenia, Muscle Twitching, Nervous Debility, etc. The rational •TONITIVES miREDBLDOD JTje.fT normal activity of the blood. In no other way can a nerve be reached, or a cure accomplished. Treatment should be carried out by the use of Tonitives, bringing back the red blood to its normal condition. 75c. per box of dealers or by mail. The Tonitives Co., Buffalo, N. Y. praaflii I I We Wait Ten Million Mian' Worth of Fan ■ I Big,., Prte.,1 Bet.er Grading, Ma.tMoiM.bv I | Mailt 1 hew are some of the advantage* ■ B tn at are von raw hen you aendyoarfursto Funsten gro*. A Co. in 8t. Louis—the Largest Fur House in the Largest Primary Far Market in the World. Our sales are attended by the greatest fur buyers of (this country, Europe and Canada. Com petition among them is fierce. And up go the prices! Dealing direct with you as we do, can't you see wnv we can afford to pay you biggest prices? I Big Money In Trapping i a,._ Trapdorine.p.retime. Mink. Coon, | bknnk.Mu«krat, Wolf. Lynx, White Weawd and other furs are rateable to us. and it's scinch tocatchthemwitll Fansten Animal Bsik. We want ______ Ten Billion Dollars* worth of just such fnrs sod flsfosil In w,“ ca*“ for them. To get best results nss Funsten Animal Balt-stCaa . ._. .. w* ruarsntee this bait to incress* yoor catch. Aoimalseao t resist it. One can, at a dollar, made 11,199 clear profit for one man. Used by U S Government and by esneri •nced trappers everywhere. Took Grand Prise. World's Fair 1904. A £l5*r*nk fnr ®*ch k**»d of animal. State kind wanted! TUPS AT FACTORY C OAT-i.cluJia, •"Ur,ot,tau ,ar ‘rapper.. All »t aarlnf prita . FR«—Trapper, Oui<le.O»me Uwe. Stipple CsUlot—Shook, fat—<ntb FarlUrketR.port. Shippi.fTMe. etc. Write lodee. *MM«M.tCe, . u FaaataaBids., At.LauM,Mol fist a Canadian Home In Western Canada’s Free Homestead Area THE PROVINCE OF Manitoba has several New Home steading Districts that afford rare opportunity to secure 160acres of ex c e 11 e n t_agricultural land FBEE. For G ' Growing and Cattle Raising t his province has no superior and to profitable agriculture shows an unbroken period of over a quarter of a Century. Perfect climate: good markets; railways convenient; soil the very best, and social conditions most desirable. Vacant lands adjacent to Free Homesteads may be purchased and also in the older districts lands can bo bought at reason able prices. For further particulars write to W. V. BENNETT, Bee Building, Omaha, Neb. Canadian Government'Agents, or address Superintendent of Immigration, Ottawa, CoU». $3 SWEATER COiTS tra heavy. Made lnoorownmill. Kremer Knit ting Mill, Hoed Building. Philadelphia, Fa. Vffnoa County. Missouri. Have some excep tional bargains In large and small (arms Address O. 8. Johnson. Schell City. Mo W. N. U., OMAHA, NO. 50-1912. (I SYNOPSIS. The scene at the opening of the story Is laid in the library of an old worn-out southern plantation, known as the Bar ony. The place is to be sold, and Its history and that of the owners, the Qulntarda, Is the subject of discussion by 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 Qulntards deny any knowledge of the boy. Yancy to keep Hannibal. Captain Murrell, a friend of the Quintards. 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. Yancy overtakes Blount, gives him a thrashing and secures the boy. Yancy appears before Squire Balaam, and is discharged with costs 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 Carrington. Betty sets out for her Tennessee home. Carrington takes the same stage. Yancy 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. Cavendish family on raft rescue Yancy, who is apparently dead. Price breaks Jail Betty and Carrington arrive at Belle Plain. Hannibal's riile 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. Charles 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 tight on Murrell’s plot. He plans 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 It 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 bis 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 tne abduction, plans ac tion. The Judge takes charge of the situation, and search for the missing ones Is instituted. Carrington visits the judge and allies are discovered. Judge Price visits Colonel Fentress, where he meets Yancy and Cavendish. Becoming enraged. Price dashes a glass of whisky into the colonel’s face and a duel is arranged. Mur rell Is arrested for negro stealing and his bubble burst*. The Judge and Mqhaffy discuss the coming duel. Carrington makes frantic search for Betty and the boy. Carrington finds Betty and Hanni bal, and a fierce gun fight follows. Yancy appears and assists in the rescue. Bruce Carrington and Betty come to an under standing. The Judge receives an import ant letter. Solomon Mahaffy’s last fight. Fights duel for the Judge and Is killed. CHAPTER XXXII.—(Continued.) Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue eyes wide with amazement at this extraor dinary statement. "It is a very strange story, Hanni bal, and its links are not all in my hands, but I am sure because of what I already know. I, who thought that not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but my own, live again in you. Do you understand what 1 am telling you? You are my own dear little grandson—” and the judge looked down with no uncertain love and pride into the small face upturned to his. “I am glad if you are my grand father, judge,” said Hannibal very gravely. "I always liked you.” "Thank you, dear lad,” responded the judge with equal gravity, and then as Hannibal nestled back in his grand father's arms a single big tear drop ped from the end of that gentleman's prominent nose. "There will be many and great changes in store for us,” continued the judge. “But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we shall be able to endure prosperity with equani mity—only unworthy natures are af reeted by what is at best superficial and accidental. I mean that the blight of poverty is about to be lifted from our lives.” “Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?” asked Hannibal. The judge regarded him with In finite tenderness of expression; be was profoundly moved. “Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?” “Do you mean we ain’t going to be pore any longer, grandfather?" re peated Hannibal. “I shall enjoy an adequate compe tency which 1 am about to recover. It will be sufficient for the indulgence ot those simple and Intellectual tastes J propose to cultivate for the future." In spite of himself the judge sighed. This was hardly in line with his ideals, but the right to choose was no longer his. "You will be very rich. Hannibal. The Quintard lands—your grandmother was a Quintard—will be yours; they run up into the hundred of thousands of acres hereabout; this land will be yours as soon as 1 can establish your identity.” “Will Uncle Bob be rich too?" in quired Hannibal. "Certainly. How can he be poor when we possess wealth?” answered the judge. “You reckon he will always live with us. don’t you, grandfather?” “I would not have It otherwise. 1 admire Mr. Yancy—he is simple and direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of fools. His treat ment of you has placed me under everlasting obligations; he shall share what we have. My one bitter, un availing regret is that Solomon Ma haffy will not be here to partake of our altered fortunes.” And the judge sighed deeply. THE PRODIGAL JUDGE i \Jiy VkUGHAM KESTER. /Ul/ST^AT/ONS ByD.Melviiz COPY*>Hi*Z &OS&3 l COMAA/rr “Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahafty got hurt in a duel, grandfather?” said Hannibal. "He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and he had to deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous feeling— but his courage was magniticent." Presently Hannibal w?as deep in his account of those adventures he had shared with Miss Betty. “And Miss Mairoy—w'here is she now?” asked the judge, in the first pause of the boy’s narrative. “She's at Mr. Bowen’s house. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish are here too. Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates’ plantation. Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me stole—do you reckon he was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen ?” "I will see Miss Mairoy in the morning. We must combine—our in terests are identical. There should be hemp in this for more than one scoundrel! I can see now how crim inal my disinclination to push myself to the front has been!" said the judge, with conviction. “Never again will 1 shrink from what 1 know to be a pub lic duty.” A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy make up a bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor. He would watch alone be side Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been the dead man’s wish; then be said good night and mounted heavily to the floor above to resume his vigil and his muslngs. CHAPTER XXXIII. A Crisis at the Court-House. Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending over'him. “Dress!" he said briefly. "There's every prospect of trouble—get your rifle and come with me!” Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the judge a pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his former air of somber and suppressed melancholy. “I let you sleep, thinking you need ed the rest,” the judge went on. "But ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and possible bloodshed. They’ve arrested John Murrell—it’s claimed he’s planned a servile rebel lion! A man named Hues, who had wormed his way into his confidence, made the arrest. He carried Murrell into Memphis, but the local magis trate, Intimidated, most likely, de clined to have anything to do with nolding him. In spite of this. Hues managed to get his prisoner lodged In jail, but along about nightfall the sit uation began to look serious. Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues fetched Murrell across country to Kaleigh—” “Yes,” said Yancy. “Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody. Hues has him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is going to be able to hold him is another matter!" Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led the way from the house. The Scratch Hiller looked about him. Across the street a group of men, the greater number of whom were armed, stood in front of Pegloe’s tavern. Glancing in the di rection of the court-house, he ob served that the square before it held other groups. But what Impressed him more was the ominous silence that was everywhere. At his elbow, the judge was breathing deep. “We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy. Court was to sit here today, but Judge Morrow and the public prosecutor have left town, and as you see, Mur rell’s friends have gathered for a res cue. There’s a sprinkling of the bet ter element—but only a sprinkling. I saw Judge Morrow this morning at four o’clock—I told him I would ob ligate myself to present for his con sideration evidence of a striking and sensational character, evidence which would show conclusively that Murrell should be held to await the action of tne next grand jury—this was after a conference with Hues—I guaranteed his safety. Sir, the man refused to listen to me! He showed himself ut terly devoid of any feeling of public duty.” The bitter sense of failure and futility was leaving the judge. The situation made its demands on that basic faith in his own powers which remained imbedded in his char acter. They had entered the court-house square. On the steps of the building Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the doorway, riCe in hand. "Maybe you don’t know this is coun ty property?” the sheriff was saying. “And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for an unlaw-ful pur pose? I am going to open them doors —a passel of strangers can’t keep folks out of a building their own money has bought and paid for!” While he was speaking, the judge had pushed his way through the crowd to the foot of the steps. “That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts.” observed the judge. He /// n “Do You Mean We Ain’t Going to Be Pore Any Longer, Grandfather?” smiled widely and sweetly. The sheN Iff gave him a hostile glare. “Do you know that Morrow has left town?" the judge went on. “I ain’t got nothin’ to do with Judge Morrow. It’e my duty to see that this building is ready for him when he’s a mind to open court In It." “You are willing to assume the re sponsibility of throwing open these doors?” inquired the judge affably. "I shorely am,” said Betts. “Why, some of these folks are our leading people!” The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive civility. “Just a word, gentlemen!—the sher iff is right; it is your court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt there are some of you whose presence in this building will sooner or later be urgently desired. We are going to let all who wish to enter, but I beg you to remember that there will be five men inside whose prejudices are all in favor of law and order." He pushed past Hues and entered the court-house, followed by Yancy and Hannibal. “We’ll iet ’em in where 1 can talk to ’em,” he said almost gaily. "Besides, they’ll come in anyhow when they get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them." In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated between Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little railed-off space below the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had blanched his unshaven cheeks and given a wild light to his deeply sunk en eyes. At. sight of Yancy a smoth ered exclamation broke from his lips; he had supposed this man dead these many months! Hues had abandoned his post, and the crowd, suddenly grown clamorous, stormed the narrow entrance. One of the doors, borne from its hinges, went down with a crash. The judge, a fierce light hashing from his eyes, turned to Yancy. “No matter what happens, this fel low Murrell is not to escape—if he calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!” The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor shook be neath their heavy tread; then they burst into the court-room and saluted Murrell with a great shout. But Mur rell, bound, in rags, and silent, his lips frozen in a wolfish grin, was a depressing sight, and the boldest felt something of his unrestrained lawless ness go from him. Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or swarmed up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building. Man after man bad hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the railing, but each had encountered the judge, formida ble and forbidding, and had turned aside. Gradually the many pairs of eyes roving over the little group sun rounding the outlaw focussed them selves on Slocum Price. It was in un conscious recognition of that moral force which was his, a tribute to the grim dignity of his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth con sidering. ne was cnarmea to near nis name pass In a whisper from lip to lip. Well, it was time they knew him! He squared his ponderous shoulder and made a gesture commanding silence. Battered, shabby and debauched, he was like some old war horse who sniffs the odor of battle that the wind incontinently brings to his nostrils. “Don’t let him speak!” cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded. Cool and indomitable the Judge waited for it to subside. He saw that the color was stealing back into Mur rell's face. The outlaw was feeling that he was a leader not overthrown; these were his friends and followers, his safety was their safety, too. In a lull in the storm or sound the judge attempted to make himself heard, but his words were lost in the angry roar that descended on him. “Don’t let him speak! Kill him! Kill him!" A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the click ol rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full cock. The judge’s fate seemed to rest on a breath. He swung about on his heel and gave a curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish, who, falling back a step, tossed their guns to their shoulders and covered Murrell. A sudden hush grew up ouf of the tumult; the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur, and a dead pall of silence rested on the crowded room. The very taste or triumph was In the judge’s month. Then came a com. motion at the back of the building. A ripple of comment, and Colonel Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd. At sight of his enemy the judge’s face went from white to red, while his eyes blazed; but for the mo ment the force of his emotions left him speechless. Here and there, aa he advanced, Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly to the right and left. iTO BE CONTINUED.) Promises. A man usually wants tbe preacher to furnish proof that what he prom ises is going to come true, but he is willing to take the glib promoter’s word for it Painter in His Old Age Retired Rear Admiral Win* Distinc tion With His Landscapes Done in Water Colors. Rear Admiral Charles Henry DavlB. who retired from active service in the United States navy four years ago, has thirty-two paintings on exhibition in the Corcoran Art gallery at Wash ington, D. C„ which is one of the fin est public galleries in America and one in which the knights of the pal ette and brush consider it quite a tri umph to have their pictures exhibited To a singular genius he has added painstaking industry, and has pushed himself up into an enviable place among the best landscape painters in water colors in this country. At a time in life when he was sup posed to have finished his mission, and to be allowed to go back and sit down in a corner and be very still, the old hero of the Civil war and Spanlsh-American war appears as vir ile in hi? intellect as be was at thirty. and has become a master of art, rev eling in a realm of beauty, and trans ferring the beauty from his own soul to canvas, to delight and bless his fel lows. What a beautiful example this grizzled old veteran and this delicate artist set to old men who think there is nothing left for them to do.—The Christian Herald. Authors and Their Books. At the dinner given by the Harper people to Arnold Bennett just before he sailed for England, a dinner which was attended by many of the literary lights that live in or near New York, a discussion came up as to whether in this day of the rapid output of lit erature a man could live by his books. Mr. Bennett said he was-sure that many authors could, and he instanced the case of a young author he knew in London who was so hard up that he could no* get enough cash to pay for his dinner. An idea struck him He visited his publisher's and there asked for six copies of his latest novel, which was priced at five shillings, ordering that the books be charged to his account. This was done. With the volumes under his arm he visited a second hand book dealer in the neighbor hood, and, as the books were perfect ly new, he managed to sell the six of them for ten shillings, with which sum he had a rattling good dinner and an evening at the theater. ‘‘Oh, yes," said Mr. Bennett, “even the humblest author can live by his books—if he has , published any books.” Child’s Burden of Care. "You must try to be like God, son nie,” said the kindly minister to the worried looking child who entertained him in the parlor while his mother, up stairs, was preparing for company. “I guess I must be,” the boy answered, wrinkling his brows, “for God and me gets blamed for about everything that happens in this house- If it’s a big thing, they say the Lord did it, and if any little thing goes wrong It’s sure to be me!” Child Gave Life for Sister. Louis Brown, a motherless boy of six years, lost his life in a recent fire at New York, because he stayed by the side of his four-year-old sister Helen, and shielded her from the the smoke and flames. A fireman searching through the burning build ing found the two children uncon scious and clasped in each other's arms beneath a bed. The boy had wrapped his jacket about the little girl's head to protect her. She had tucked her head down on his breast and locked arms about his waist. Hel en's condition is serious. The chil dren had been forgotten-in the gen eral scramble for safety. The Cook’s Feat. A woman instructor at Wellesley college, who presides over one of the dining tables at which sit a dozen students, says that one day soma curly lettuce was brought on. A freshman looked at it. then ex claimed: “How clever of the cook to crimp it (hat way! I wonder how she does it?"—LJppincott'a. WANTED TO FINISH THE JOB Pride in Hi* Work, Not Tender Heart, Was What Induced the Chauffeur to Return. They were going along the public highway at a leisurely rate of forty miles per hour, when a decrepit hen and rooster started to do the chicken special—cross the road. The front and hind wheels on the right side struck the poor, old, stiff jointed rooster amidships, and with one squawk he succumbed. Immediately the man at the steer ing wheel started to slow down and to look about for a place to turn. His soliciaous wife turned to her seatmate and said: “Isn’t that just like his tender heart? He won’t be satisfied unless he goes back and settles for that rooster. He just can't bear to feel he has injured anyone or anything." Then louder, to her husband, she said: "George, remember that ap pointment. We haven’t any time to go back for anything.” Glancing at the clock near his feet and at the speedometer near by, he sighed and said: "You're right, Jennie; but I just know if I had turned back I could have killed that old hen just $s easy as 1 did the rooster.”—Judge. RASH ON FACE FOR 2 YEARS Sioux Falls, S. D.—“My trouble of skin disease started merely as a rash on my face and neck, but it grew and kept getting worse until large scabs would form, fester and break. This was just on the one side of my face, but it soon scattered to the other side. I suffered a great deal, especial ly at night, on account of its itching and burning. I would scratch it and of course that irritated it very much. This rash was on my face for about two years, sometimes breaking out lots worse and forming larger sores. It kept me from sleeping day or night for a couple of months. My face look ed disgraceful and I was almost ashamed to be seen by my friends. “A friend asked me to try Cuticura Soap and Cuticura Ointment. I would bathe my face with hot water and a lot of Cuticura Soap, then I would put on the Cuticura Ointment. In less than two days’ time, the soreness and inflammation had almost entirely dis appeared, and in four weeks’ time you could not see any of the rash. Now my face is without a spot of any kind. I also use them for my scalp and hair. They cured me completely.” (Signed) Miss Pansy Hutchins, Feb. 6, 1912. Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold throughout the world. Sample of each free, with 32-p. Skin Book. Address post-card “Cuticura, Dept. L, Boston.” Adv. Protecting Valuable Interests. “Why do you charge so much extra for putting in a load of coal?’’ “Well,” replied • the dealer, “you know coal is coal, and while it costs a little more, it is better to have any body that handies it bonded.” Very Much So. When Mrs. JTbbetts was asked why ' she neglected her friends so, she gave a bald excuse.” “What was it?” "The baby.” Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets regulate and invig orate stomach, liver and Ixtwels. Sugar-coated, tiny granules, easy to take as candy. Adv. Most of the so called theatrical stars are rockets. There Were Other*. “You,” sighed the rejected lovei; "would find your name written in Im perishable characters on my heart could you but look.” “So,” murmured the fair young thing who was aware of the fact that the swain had been playing Romeo at the seaside for something like 20 years. “So? Then you must hart# a heart like a local directory by this time.”—Tit-Bits. Not to Be Caught Farmer (on one side of the hedge to boy on the other side)—Now, then, my lad, didn’t I tell you net to let me catch you here again? loy (preparing to run)—All right, don’t make a fuss. You ain’t caught me yet!—Weekly Telegraph. Exception. “You can't put water colors in an oil painting.” ‘“You can, sea blue, can’t you?” LEWIS’ Single Binder cigar; sixteen years on the market and always the same rich satisfying quality. Adv. An old toper says that none are so blind as those who refuse an eye opener. Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup for Children teething, softens the gums, reduces inflamma tion, allays pain, enres wind colic, 25c a bottle.Mv, Only a poor love letter can be spoiled by weak spelling. You want “your rights” That always means a KEEN APPETITE PERFECT DIGESTION ACTIVE LIVER BOWEL REGULARITY There’s one way to get them—take Hostefter’s STOMACH BITTERS at mealtime for a few days. It does the work. All Druggists. Your Liver Is Clogged Up That’s Why You’re Tired—Out of Sortt —Have No Appetite. CARTER’S LITTLE, LIVER PILLS will put you right A in a few days. ^ They do, their duty„ Cure Con-J stipation, • Biliousness, Indigestion and Sick Headache SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. 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