BY
JOHN BRECKENraDGE ELLIS
ILLUSTRATIONS BV
0 • IRWIN -MYERS
1 -O-'n
(COPYRIGHT 1912
B0BB5-liEPPlLLC0.)
a
SYNOPSIS.
Fran arrives at Hamilton Gregory's
home In Littleburg. but finds him absent,
conducting the choir at a camp meeting r
She repairs thither in search of him |
laughs during the service and is asked 1.1
leave. Abbott Ashton, superintendent oi
schools, escorts Fran from the tent. He
tells her Gregory Is a wealthy man.
deeply interested in charity work, and a
pillar of the church. Ashton becomes
greatly interested in Fran and while tak
ing leave of her. holds her hand and Is
•een by Sapphira Clinton, sister of Rob
ert Clinton, chairman of the school board.
Fran tells Gregory she wants a home
with him. Grace Noir. Gregory's private
•ecretary. takes a violent dislike to Fran
and advises her to go away at once.
Fran hints at a twenty-year-old secret,
and Gregory in agitation asks Grace to
leave the room. Fran relates the story
of how Gregory married a young girl at
Springfield while attending college and
then deserted her. Fran Is the child of
that marriage. Gregory had married his
present wife three years before the death
jf Fran’s mother. Fran takes a liking to
Mrs. Gregory. Gregory explains that
Fran is the daughter of a very dear friend
who Is dead. Fran agrees to the story.
Mrs. Gregory insists on her making her
some with them and takes her to her
arms. Fran declares the secretary must
go. Grace begins nagging tactics In an
tlfort to drive Fran from the Gregory
home. Abbott, while taking a walk alone
at midnight, finds Fran on a bridge tell
ing her fortune by cards. She tells Ab
oott that she is the famous lion tamer,
Fran Nonpareil. She tired of circus life
and sought a home. Grace tells of see
ing Fran come home after midnight with
a man. She guesses part of the story
and surprises the rest from Abbott. She
decides to ask Bob Clinton to go to
Springfield to Investigate Fran's story.
Fran enlists Abbott in her battle against
Grace. Fran offers her services to Greg
ary as secretary during the temporary
ibsence at Grace. The latter, hearing of
Fran's purpose, returns and Interrupts a
touching scene between father and
laughter. Grace tells Gregory she in
tends to marry Clinton and quit his serv
ice. He declares that he cannot continue
his work without her. Carried away by
session, he takes her in his arms. Fran
walks in on them, and declares that
Grace must leave the house at once. ' To
Gregory's consternation lie learns of
Clinton's mission to Springfield. Clinton
returns from Springfield and. at Fran's re
luest. Ashton urgest him not to disclose
what he has learned. On Abbott’s assur
ince that Grace will leave Gregory at once.
Clinton agrees to keep silent. Driven In
to a corner by the threat of exposure.
Gregory is forced to dismiss Grace. Grace
Is offered the job of bookkeeper In Clin
ton’s grocery store. Gregory declares he
will kill himself If she marries Clinton.
CHAPTER XX.—Continued.
It was the close of a July day that
Hamilton Gregory left his house re
solved, at any cost—save that of ex
posure—to experience once more the
only pleasure life held in reserve for
him; nearness to Grace Noir. She
might be at the store, since all shops
were to remain open late. In hopes of
reaping sordid advantages from the
saiety of mankind. In a word, Little
burg was in the grip of its first street
lair.
Before going down-town, Gregory
•trolled Casually within sight of the
Clinton boarding-house. Only Miss
Sapphira was on the green veranda.
Wiss Sapphira, recognizing Gregory,
waved a solemn greeting, and he felt
reassured—for he was always afraid
Robert would “tell.” He pushed his
way nearer.
"Is Miss Noir here?” Gregory asked
In a strained voice; the confusion hid
I
“But I Have Been Dying to Be Near
You, to Talk to You.”
the odd catch his voice had suffered
tn getting over the name.
"No. She’s down-town—but not at
any. show, you may be sure. She's left
late at the store because—1 guess
fou’ve heard Abbott Ashton has been ]
sway a long time.’’
‘T have heard nothing of the young ]
man,” Gregory replied stiffly.
"Well, he’s been off two or three
weeks somewhere, nobody knows un
less It’s Bob, and Bob won’t tell any
thing any more. Abbott wrote be d
be home tonight, and Eob drove over
r
to Simmtown to meet him in the sur
rey, so Miss Grace is alone down
there—” She nodded ponderously.
"Alone!" he exclaimed involuntarily.
“Yes—I look for Eob and Abbott
now just any minute.” She added,
eying the crowd—“I saw Fran on the
street, long and merry ago!” Her ac
cent was that of condemnation. Like
a rock she sat, letting the fickle pop
ulace drift by to minstrel show and
snake den. The severity of her double
chin said they might all go thither—
she would not. .
This was also Gregory’s point of
view; and even in his joy at finding
the coast clear, he paused to say, “I
am sorry that Fran seems to have lost
all reason over this carnival company.
If she would show half as much inter
est in her soul's welfare—”
He left the sentence unfinished. The
thought of Grace had grown supreme
—it seemed to illuminate some wide
and splendid road into a glorious fu
ture.
The bookkeeper’s desk was in a gal
lery near the ceiling of the Clinton
grocery store: one looked thence,
through a picket-fence, down upon the
only floor. Doubtless Grace, thus iook
ing, saw him coming. When he reached
her side, he was breathless, partly
from the struggle through the masses,
principally from excitement of fancied
security.
She was posting up the ledger, and
made no sign of recognition until he
called her name.
“Mr. Clinton is not here,” she said
remotely. “Can I do anything for
you?"
He admired her calm courtesy. If
at the same time she could have been
reserved and yielding he would have
found the impossible combination per
fect. Because it was impossible, he
was determined to preserve her an
gelic purity in imagination, and to re
store her womanly charm to actual
being.
“How can you receive me so coldly,"
he said impulsively, “when I’ve not
seen you for weeks?”
“You see me at church,” she an
swered impersonally.
“But I have been dying to be near
you, to talk to you—”
“Stop!” she held up her hand. “You
should know that Mr. Clinton and I
are—”
“Grace!” he groaned.
She whispered, her face suddenly
growing pale, “Are engaged.” The
tete-a-tete was beyond her supposed
strength.
“Engaged!” he echoed, as if she had
pronounced one of the world’s great
tragedies. “Then you will give your
self to that man—yourself, Grace, that
beautiful self—and without love? Ft’s
a crime! Don’t commit the horrible
blunder that’s ruined my life. See
what wretchedness has come to me—”
“Then you think,” very slowly, “that
I ought to let Fran ruin my whole life
because your wife has ruined yours?
Then you think that after I have been
driven out of the house to make room
for Frau, that I ought to stay single
because you married unwisely?”
“Grace, don’t say you are driven
out.”
“What do you call it? A resigna
tion?”
“Grace!—we have only a few mo
ments to be alone. For pity’s sake,
look at me kindly and use another
tone—a tone like the dear days when
you were by my side. . . . We may
never be together again.”
She looked at him with the same re
pellent expression, and spoke in the
same bitter tone: “Well, suppose we’re
not? You and that Fran will be to
gether.”
In his realization that it was Fran,
and Fran alone, who separated them,
Gregory passed into a state of anger,
to which his love added recklessness.
“Grace, bate me if you must, but you
shall not misunderstand me!”
She laughed. “Please don’t ask me
j to understand you, Mr. Gregory, while
you hide the only secret to your un
| derstanding. Don’t come to me with
pretended liking when what you call
'mysterious business interests at
Springfield’ drive me from your door,
and keep Fran at my desk.”
He interposed In a low, passionate
voice. “I am resolved that you should
know everything. Fran—is my own
daughter.”
She gave no sign save a sudden
compression of the mouth; neverthe
less. her surprise was extreme. Her
mind flashed along the wires of the
past and returned illuminated to the
present entanglement.
He thought her merely stunned, and
burst forth: "I tell you, Fran is my
I child. Now you know why I’m com
pelled to do what she wants. That’s
the secret Bob brought from Spring
field. That’s the secret Abbott Ash
ton hung over my head—the traitor!
after I’d befriended him! All of my
ungrateful friends have conspired to
ruin me, to force you from me by this
secret. But you know it now, and I’ve
escaped its danger, tfou know it!”
"And does your wife know?”
“Would I tell her, and not tell you?
It’s you I’ve tried to shield. I married
Josephine Derry, and Fran is our
child. You know Fran. Well, her
mother was Just like her—frivolous,
caring only for things of the world—
irreligious. And I was just a boy—a
mere college youth. When I realized
the awful mistake I'd made, I thought
it best to go away and let her live her
own life. Years after, I put all that
behind me, and came to Littleburg.
1 married Mrs. Gregory and I wanted
to put all my past life away—clear
away—and live a good open life. Then
you came. Then I found out I’d never
known what love meant. It means a
fellowship of souls, love does; it has
nothing to do with the physical man.
It means just vour soul and mine. . . .
and It’s too late!”
. Grace, with hands locked upon her
open ledger, stared straight before
her, as if turned to stone. The little
fenced-in box, hanging high above ea
ger shoppers, was as a peaceful haven
in a storm of raging noises. From
without, gusts of merriment shrieked
and whistled, while above them
boomed the raucous cries of showmen,
drowned in their turn by the inde
fatigable bras3-band. The atmosphere
of the bookkeeper’s loft was a wedge
of silence, splitting a solidarity of tu
mult.
Gregory covered his face with his
hands. “Do you despise me, you pure
angel of beauty? Oh, say you don’t
utterly despise me. I’ve not breathed
this secret to any living soul but you,
you whom I love with the madness of
despair. My heart is broken. Tell
me what I can do.”
At last Grace spoke in a thin tone:
“Where is that woman?'
“Fran’s mother?”
She did not reply; he ought to know
whom she meant.
“She died a few years ago—but I
thought her dead when I married Mrs.
Gregory. I didn’t mean any wrong
to my wife, I wanted everything legal,
and supposed It was. I thought every
thing was all right until that awful
night—when Fran came. There’d been
no divorce, so Fran kept the secret—
not on my account, oh, no, no, not on
her father’s account! She gave me
no consideration. It was on account
of Mrs. Gregory.”
"Which Mrs. Gregory?”
“You know—Mrs. Gregory.”
"Can I believe that?” Grace asked,
with a chilled smile. “You believe
Fran really cares for your wife? You
think any daughter could care for the
woman who has stolen her mother’s
rightful place?”
"But Fran won’t have the truth de
clared ; if it weren’t for her, Bob would
have told you long ago.”
“Suppose I were In Fran's place—
would I have kept the secret to spare
man or woman? No! Fran doesn’t
care a penny for your wife. She
couldn’t. It would be monstrous—un
natural. But she’s always hated me.
That’s why she acts as she does—to
triumph over me. 1 see it all. That
is the reason she won’t have the truth
declared—she doesn’t want me to
know that you are—are free.”
Grace started up from the desk, her
face deathly white. She was totter
ing, but when Gregory would have
leaped to her side, she whispered,
"They would see us.” Suddenly her
face became crimson. He caught his
breath, speechless before her Imperial
loveliness.
“Mr. Gregory!” her eyes were burn
ing into'his, “have you told me all the
secret?”
“Yes—all.”
“Then Mr. Clinton deceived me!”
“He agreed to hide everything, if
I'd send you away.1,
"Oh, I see! So even he is one of
Fran's allies. Never mind—did you
say that when you married the second
time, your first wife was living, and
had never been divorced?”
"But Grace—dear Grace! I thought
it all right. I believed—"
She did not seem to hear him.
"Then she is not your wife,” she said
in a low whisper.
"She believes—”
"She believes!” Her voice rose
scornfully. “And so that is the fact
Fran wanted hidden; you are not real
ly bound to Mrs. Gregory.”
"Not legally—but—”
“In what way, then?”
“Why, in no regular way—I mean—
but don’t you see, there could be no
marriage to make it binding, without
telling her—”
“You are not bound at all,” Grace in
terrupted. "You are free—as free as
air—as free as I am. Are you deter
mined not to understand me? Since
you are free, there is no obstacle, in
Heaven or on earth, to your wishes.”
His passage from despair to sudden
hope was so violent that he grasped
the desk for support. “What?—Then?
—You—you—Grace, would you — But
W
"You are free,” said Grace, “and
since Mr. Clinton’s treachery, 1 do
not consider myself bound.”
“Grace!” he cried wildly, “Grace—
star of my soul—go with me, go with
me, fly with me in a week—darling.
Let us arrange it for tomorrow."
“No. I will not go with you, unless
you take me now.”
“Now? Immediately?” he gasped,
bewildered.
"Without once turning back,” she
returned. “There’s a train in some
thing like an hour.”
“For ever?” He was delirious.
“And you are to be mine—Grace, you
are to be mine—my very own!”
“Yes. But you are never to see
Fran again.”
“Do I want to see her again? But
Grace, if we stay here until train
time, Bob will come and—er—and find
us—I don’t want to meet Bob.”
“Then let us go. There are such
crowds on the streets that we can eas
ily lose ourselves.”
“Bob will hunt for you, Grace, if
he gets back with Abbott before our
train leaves. Miss Sapphira said she
was looking for him any minute, and
that was a good while ago.”
"If you can’t keep him from finding
me,” Grace said, “let him find. I do
not consider that I am acting in the
wrong. This is the beginning of our
lives,” she finished,' with sudden joy.
“And if Bob sees me with you, Grace,
after what he knows, you can guess
that something very unpleasant
would—”
Grace drew back, to look searching
ly Into his face. “Mr. Gregory,” she
said slowly, “you make difficulties.”
He met her eyes, and his blood
danced. “I make difficulties? No!
Grace, you have made me the happiest
man in the world. Yes, our lives be
gin with this night—our real lives.
Grace, you’re the best woman that
ever lived!”
CHAPTER XXI.
Flight.
To reach the Btation, they must ei
ther penetrate the heart of the town,
or follow the dark streets of the out
skirts. In the latter case, their asso
ciation would arouse surprise and
comment, but in the throng reasonable
safety might be expected.
After the first intense moment of
exultation, both began to fear a pos
sible search. Grace apparently dread
ed discovery as shrinkingly as if her
conscience were not clear, and Greg
ory, In the midst of his own perturba
tion, found it incongruous that she
who was always right, wanted to hide.
But Grace’s hand was upon his arm,
and the crowd pressed them close to
gether—and she was always beauti
ful and divinely formed. The pros
pect of complete possession filled him
with ecstasy, while Grace herself
yielded to the love that had outgrown
all other principles of conduct.
They gained the street before the
court-house which by courtesy passed
under the name of “the city square."
Grace's hand grew tense on Gregory’s
arm—“Look!”
Her whisper was lost in the wind,
but Gregory, following her frightened
glance, saw Robert Clinton elbowing
his way through the crowd, forcing
his progress bluntly, or jovially, ac
cording to the nature of obstruction.
He did not see them and, by dodging,
they escaped.
The nearness of danger had paled
Grace’s cheeks. Gregory accepted his
own trembling as natural, but Grace's
evident fear acted upon his nebulous
state of mind in a way to condense
jumbled emotions and deceptive long
ings Into something like real thought.
If they were in the right, why did
they feel such expansive relief when
the crowd swept them from the side
walk to bear them far away from
Robert Clinton?
The merry-go-round, its very music
traveling in a circle, clashed its stem
whistlings and organ, wailings against
a drum-and-trombone band, while these
distinct strata of sound were cut
across by an outcropping of grapho
phones and megaphones. Always out
of sympathy with such displays, but
now more than ever repelled by them,
Grace and Gregory hurried away to
find themselves penned in a court,
surrounded on all sides by strident
cries of “barkers,” cracking reports
from target-practice, fusillades at the
“doll-babies," clanging jars from
strength-testers and the like; while
from this horrid field of misguided en
ergy, there was no outlet save the nar
row entrance they had unwittingly
used.
‘‘Horrible!” exclaimed Grace, half
stumbling over the tent-ropes that
entangled the ground. "We must get
out of this."
It wa3 not easy to turn about, so
dense was the crowd.
Scarcely had they accomplished the
maneuver when Grace exclaimed be
low her breath, “There he is!”
Sure enough, Robert Clinton stood
at the narrowest point of their way.
o
• p i*
“I Don't Think He Has Seen Us."
He was clinging to an upright, and
while thus lifted above the heads of
the multitude, sought to scan every
face.
“I don’t think he has seen us,” mut
tered Hamilton Gregory, instinctively
lowering his head.
“We can’t get out now,” Grace
lamented. "No, he hasn’t seen us—
yet. But that’s the only place of—of
escape—and he keeps looking so curi
ously—he must have been to the store.
He knows I’m away. He may have
goc.3 to the house.”
It was because every side-show of
the carnival company had insisted on
occupying space around the court
house, and because this space was
meager, that the country folk and ex
cursionists and townsmen showed in
such compressed numbers at every
turn. In reality, however, they were
by no means countless; and if Rob
ert’s eagle glance continued to travel
from face to face, with that madden
I ing thoroughness—
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
BIBLE HAS LONG HISTORY
That Used In the Supreme Cout* Prob
ably the Oldest Connected WWh
the Government. ,
It is a tiny little book, only five and
one-half inches long and three and
one-half'inches wide. It is bound in>
bright red Morocco leather, with the
word “Bible” printed In diminutive
gold letters on the back. But one
does not see that red Morocco cover
unless he removes the little black
leather slip which protects it.
Long, long ago the little red Bible
began to show wear, and then the
black leather slip was made to pro
tect it—so long ago, in fact, that 15 of
those covers, made to protect the ven
erated little volume, were worn out in
the service. It Is without daubt one
of the oldest Bibles, if not the very
oldest Bible, connected with the gov
eminent, and Is certainly the most
historical.
It is the book upon which sine*
1800 every chief Justice—with th*
single exception of Chief Justice
Chase—and every member of the Bu
preme court has taken the oath of
allegiance when accepting his appoint,
ment to our highest tribunal. More
than that, every attorney who has
practiced before the Supreme court
since that date—1800—has pledged hi
allegiance over the little volume. A!)
with one exception also, and that e
ception was Daniel Webster.
It Is told even yet of the Supreme
court of that day that Mr. Webster’s
fame as an orator had so preceded him
that on the occasion when he cam'
to argue his first case before the cour
the clerk, Mr. Caldwell, in his eage
ness to hear the great speaker, forgo
to administer the oath.—Christia
Herald.
Where Old Cane Go.
"Goodness gracious!” exclaims the
housewife, “I wonder what becom<
of all the tin cans that are thrown
away." Never fear, dear madam, they
are not lost, nor does one of them go
to waste.
A friend of the visitor, who Is
well-known business man, is thorough
ly acquainted with the tin can from
its Infancy to the day of its doom.
“Well, what does become of all these
cans?” was asked the authority.
“They are,” he replied, “reincarnat
ed, so to speak, and become, in fact
a new tin can, but mostly a window
weight.” Then he explained how the
old tin cans are gathered up and hurl
ed into a furnace, and how the thin
veneer of tin, which is merely the out
er covering, is separated as a melted
product from the steel, which forms
the real basis for the can. The tin
Is far more valuable than the steel,
and it is used over and over again for
covering cans. The steel part, when
melted, becomes a solid chunk; in
fact, the solidest chunk in the whole
steel family. Window' weights must
be small, but hefty; hence the use of j
steel from tin cans.
Orator Slightly Mixed.
A former senator of the United
States was addressing a meeting in
his home town to celebrate the appi -
priation by the legislature of fun
for the erection of a new state caj
tol. “My fellow citizens,” said he,
“we will build here the greatest epi
taph under God’s green footstool.”
WHERE HER THOUGHTS WERE
Woman’s Ideas Eminently Practical,
Though Not Quite Following Hus
band’s Reading.
The husband was reading a newspa
per account to his wife. Now and
then he paused and asked a question.
The nature of her replies made him
doubt that she was listening closely.
He accused her of having thoughts
elsewhere, and she indignantly retort
ed that she had heard every word.
He continued reading for a few min
utes and then glanced at her. From
the far-away look in her eyes he knew
her thoughts were not' upon the item
he was reading. So. turning the sheet
as an excuse for the pause, he con
tinned as folio ws:
“Last night, at about two o’clock In
the afternoon. Just a few minutes be
fore breakfast, a hungry boy about
sixty years old, bought a doughnut for
nine plus twenty feet thick. With a
cry of despair be jumped Into a dry
millpond, broke bis arm at the knet
joint and was drowned. It was only
ten yean later, on the same day and
birth to six elephants. A high wind
at the same hour .that a goat gave
then came up and killed three dead
horses and a wooden cigar • Indian.
What do you think of that, dear?" he
questioned suddenly.
She gave a little start, smiled and
said:
"I think that’s a splendid bargain.
Henry. You had better get a half
dozen. for your stock of shirts is low.”
—Puck.
Old-Time Coffee Drinking.
Coffee, like tea, was from an early
date welcomed as a rival to alcoholic
liquors. Writing in 1659, shortly after
its introduction into England, Howell
makes the comment that “this coffa
drink hath caused a great sobriety
amongBt all nations; formerly clerks,
apprentices, etc., used to take their
morning draughts in ale, beer or wine;
which often made them unfit for busi
ness. Now they play the good fellows
in thia wakeful and civil drink. The
worthy gentleman. Sir James Muddi
ford, who Introduced the practice
thereof first in London deserves much
respect of the whole na
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Worms .Convulsions .Feverish
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Fac Simile Signature of
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under the Foodaw
Exact Copy of Wrapper.
OASTORIA
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Have
Always Bought
Thirty Years
CASTDRIA
TH« OlrtTAUft OOMVAMV. MB** YORK OITT.
r” DISTEMPER E^?r:
Rare care and positive preventive, no matter bow horses at any age are Infected
•r “exposed.” Liquid, given on the tongue; acts on the Blood and Glands; expels the
poisonous germs from tne body. Cu rest) Is temper In Dogs and Bheep and Cholera ik
Poultry. Largest selltng livestock remedy. Cures La Grippe among human beings,
and Is a fine kidney remedy. 50c and 11 a bottle; 16 and tiO a dozen. Cut this out
Keep It. f-how to your druggist, who will getltforyou. Free Booklet, “Distemper*
Causes and Cures.r’ Bpeclal Agents wanted.
SPOHN MEDICAL CO., 60SHEN, IND., U. S. A.
HUSBAND MUST BE AMERICAN
Popular Singer Declares They Are the
Best in the World, and Perhaps
She Is Right.
A young American singer who re
turns to this country after a success
ful career abroad, expecting to reap
here high h'oonrs and much money, an
nounces that she is a candidate for
matrimony, but only American men
need apply. Her verdict is that the
Russian husband is cruel, the German
selfish, the Frenchman untrue, the
Italian "broke,” the Spaniard jealous
and lazy and the Englishman domineer
ing. These generalizations are un
doubtedly too strong. There are as
good husbands in each of the coun
tries as anywhere, but the foreigner
who deliberately hunts an American
girl is apt to be an adventurer, and
we hear of all the bad cases. We do
not hear of the thousands of American
wpmen happily married and living in
every country in Europe.
It is to be hoped that the singer will
find a husband with none of the bad
qualities mentioned and with all of
the virtues. We feel at liberty, how
ever, to point out that there are some
mighty bad husbands in this country
and that American birth alone is no
guarantee of perfection. It is true,
however, that the ordinary American
husband is the best trained animal
in captivity. He eats out of his wife’s
hand and signs checks and is thankful
for the opportunity. There are millions
of such husbands now arid millions
of candidates for the yoke.—Philadel
phia Inquirer.
Relief for Alaskan Miners.
As an encouragement to further
prospecting and mining in the new
gold field near the boundary line be
tween Alaska and Yukon territory the
American customs officials have de
cided not to establish a customs house
there for one year, believing that the
miners have already undergone hard
ships enough in getting their outfits
there without having to pay duties.
Jealousy.
"Do you admire my hair?”
"Immensely. Won't you tell me
where you got It?”
DIDN’T KNOW
That Coffee Was Causing Her Trouble.
So common is the use of coffee as a
beverage, many do not know that it is
tue cause of many obscure ails which
are often attributed to other things.
The easiest way to find out for one
self is to quit the coffee for a while,
at least, and note results. A Virginia
lady found out in this way, and also
learned of a new beverage that is
wholesome as well as pleasant to
drink. She writes:
"I am 40 years old and all my life,
up to a year and a half ago, I had
been a coffee drinker.
“Dyspepsia, severe headaches and
heart weakness made me feel some
times as though I was about to die.
After drinking a cup or two of hot
coffee, my heart would go like a clock
without a pendulum. At other times it
would almost stop and I was so nerv
ous I did not like to be alone.
“If I took a walk for exercise, as
soon as I was out of sight of the house
I'd feel as if I was sinking, and this
would frighten me terribly. My limbs
would utterly refuse to support Lie,
and the pity of it all was, I did not
know that coffee was causing the trou
ble.
"Reading In the papers that many
persons were relieved of such ailments
by leaving off coffee and drinking Post
um, I got my husband to bring home
a package. We made it according to
directions and I liked the first cup. Its
rich, snappy flavor was delicious.
"i have been using Postum about
eighteen months and to my great joy,
digestion is good, my nerves and heart
are all right, in fact, I am a well woman
once more, thanks to Postum.”
Name given by Postum Co., Battle
Creek, Mich. Write for copy of the
little book, “The Road to Wellville.”
Postum comes in two forms:
Regular Poetum—must be well
boiled.
instant Postum Is a soluble powder.
A teaspoonful dissolves quickly in a
cup of hot water and, with cream and
sugar, makes a delicious beverage I*,
stantly. Grocers sell both kinds.
“There’s a reason” tor Posttun.
Eighth Wonder.
The ex-summer girl was talking to
the ex-college man.
“And what are you going to do,
now that you have completed your
education?” she asked.
“Oh, I think I'll live on my in
come!” he answered airily.
“I am disappointed in you. Live o*
your income, indeed! Why don’t yc*
do some great deed to show the
world how clever you are?”
“My dear young woman, if I suc
ceed in living on my income it will
be the cleverest deed any man ever
accomplished.”
DIZZY, HEADACHY,
SIGK,^CASG ARETS”
Gently cleanse your liver and
sluggish bowels while
you sleep.
Get a 10-cent box.
Sick headache^ biliousness, dizzi
ness, coated tongue, foul taste and foul
breath—always trace them to torpid
liver; delayed, fermenting food in the
bowels or 6our, gassy stomach.
Poisonous matter clogged in the in
testines, instead of being cast out
of the system is re-absorbed into the
blood. When this poison reaches the
delicate brain tissue it causes con
gestion and that dull, throbbing, sick
ening headache.
Cascarets immediately cleanse the
stomach, remove the sour, undigested
food and foul gases, take the excess
bile from the liver and carry out all
the constipated waste matter and
poisons in the bowels.
A Cascaret to-night will surely
straighten you out by morning. They
work while you sleep—a 10-cent box
from your druggist means your head
clear, stomach sweet and your liver
and bowels regular for months. Adv.
When a man begins to feed on flat
tery compliments become the necessi
ties of life.
Nothing equals Dean’s Mentholated Cough
Drops for Bronchial weakness, sore chests,
and throat troubles—5c at all Druggists.
Some men havq to marry for money
or get some other kind of job.
Backache Is aWarning I
Thousands suffer
kidney ills unawares
—not knowing that
the backache, head
aches.and dull,nerv
ous, dizzy, all tired
condition are often
due to kidney weak
ness alone.
Anybody who suf
fers constantly from .
backache should sus- I
pect the kidneys.
Some irregularity
of thesecretions may
give just the needed
proof.
Doan’s Kidney
Pills have been cur
ing backache and
sick kidneys for over
fifty years.
“Every Piciu-rt
Tells a Story'*
A North Dakota Case
Mrs. C. J. Tyler, Cando, N. D„ rays: *My feat
and limbs were swollen and I couldn’t steep on
account of kidney weakness. My back was lame
and sore and l felt miserable. Doan’s Kidney
Pills cured me and wben I have had occasion to
use them since, they have never failed me.”
Get Doan’s at Any Store. 50c a Box
D OAN’S VELV
FOSTER-M1LBURN CO, BUFFALO. N. Y.
ECDDCTC •S'* Game Trained,
rcnnt I A ErtcesFRaa. aKKioet.,
’ ■ "•■■■■■■ ■ W 10* rrsakba. IHSVII.I C, itC
DATC1ITC WatsonE.Coleman,Wash.
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