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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 1, 1925)
. THE SHADOW OF THE PALM -_•_. , Jfr t A Tale of Love and Adventure in the South Seas L_ By BEATRICE GRISHAM Illustrated by /. NORMAN LYND J THE trader rose slowly from his hammock chair, yawned a little, and stretched himself. He was very tall. The stretch finished In a reach up to the topmost shelf at the store. “Help yourself,’’ he said, placing a hox of drugs on the counter. The doctor selected a packet here and a bottle there, smoking the while. It seemed that there was no hurry. There never was, In Manala. “Patient?” queried the trader. "No. Own work.” “Ichthyology your special Job, Ivn t It?" “That and patching up anyone who wants tt. Hardly anyone ever does. Manaia's a healthy place.” The doc tor looked at Lockhart Brothers’ tat cst manager. There had been many of Lockhart's traders In the pearling Island of Manala, in the 11 years «>f aiascntt's stay, hut no one of them had used such a word a» ’ichthyology.” They spoke of the scientific work as ' hug hunting In the S’*****. " I might describe myself as a marine biologist on the whole,” prof fered the doctor, “Perfectly,” assented the trader. < t la scot t glanced at hhn again. The Idiom suggested a knowledge of French. Lockhart's traders do not speak Freiv h as a, rule. Nor do they, on islands tike Manala. present them selves at the receipt of custom clothed, socked aod shaved. Rut the doctor not exactly at a. loss. He had spent many years among the islands. "Another of them.” was his un spoken comment. “Hope It. l-m t drink.” lie watched the long, well kepi hands. They did not shake. The men's skin was clear, eyes bright; Pother urn v in color, well set above good features ’ Good looking ' was Glascott's verdict. I don't think h« drinks. It will Vie soiftPIhlng worse, then.” For he knew h:- Islands, and he knew lH r * men who talk about "iohihyolnsy.” use French idioms, and show a neat half-circle at the root of the n.,Us. stay on civilization's outposts not. because they will, but because they must. “How do you think you’re going to like Manala?” he asked. Lockhart’s trader looked out from the cool dusk of the store to the blatantly blue sea. There was nothing in sight, front the store, that was not shrieking blue, shrieking green, or furious white. The colors of Manala srreamed. So did Its sounds. No small whisper of leaves, no lazy drone of surf on far away coral, ca ressed the ear. Such sounds there may have been, even as there may have been twittering of small birds and humming of files on the beach, but they were one and all drowned In the unending rhythmical craah of trade wind-drlven waves on loose coral gravel, and the long cry of the south east among the palms Everyone on Manala talked with the voice slightly raised, as men do who work in boiler Jnotorles or weaving sheds. “I think,” said I^ockhart's trader, “that the business has been neglect ed. 1 believe I can pull It up.” Blascot accepted the courteous ro luff. “How do you like It?” said the trader suddenly. “Well enough. Perhnps too well,” answered the doctor, filling his pipe slowly -why should anyone hurry, in Murrain. where every day had 48 In.n r at Ira St, and years were threo yea < long? • How do you mean?” “Do you see that?” asked the d<>e U-. pointing to the glaring sand in Hunt of the trader's doorway. It was afternoon, and a few thin, rest less shadows danced on the beach, like giant ostrich plumes shaken by a colossal hand. ••The shadow of the palm? What's In that?” “If you don’t know,” said Glascott. “you are luckier than most of us who live up under the Line.” “The shadow of the palm?” repeat ed Lockhart's trader. “I don't quite get—” “Say it over to yourself n. few times, and j'ou will. Goodbye.” "Goodbye,” came the answer. Lockhart’s trader sat finishing his pipe. He understood what Glaacott had meant. But that i>oint was too sharp to he pressed home without need. Even to himself he did not like acknowledging that the shadow' of the palm rested on him, as on the other traders, and on the white men of the shelling fleet, and the nondescript few who wandered more or less aimlessly about the 50-mlle white beach that was Manala. The shadows thrashed about on ■kMine sand, as the paint-fronds, 80 feet above, thrashed on the merciless southeast. On Manala, as on many hundred other “low" Islands, you were never out of touch of the In evitable coconut. There Was only a narrow strip of tidal beach, each side of the long, belt-shaped island, over which the tenuous, restless shadow* did not fall. The palm gives no true nhade. No Tiouseand-hcarth associa tion clings about Its rocketing whits stem and Insubstantial gray-green star of crown, aa about the tamed and humanized personalities of the fig-tree and the vine. Flng of the wanderer, of forgotten dwellers out hack, of the ntan who was. and the man who will never be, the palm frond holds no sentiment of home. It may be that Lockhart's trader understood all this, or It mny be that hi* thoughts ran on slightly different lines. t’nconselously, for ninny years of Island wandering, he hnrt felt the palrn shadow rest upon his life. It had been put Into words for him; ho felt It consciously now. So murh the more did it weigh. He sat and smoked, and watched the sun go down upon the empty wen where never—almost never—a Halt went by, and never any funnel at nil. Not one of the biggest or the mnst Important of the pearling Island* la Manala, but It turns out Its tale of I lark lip and gold Up shell of baroque, M* Mister, button, and fine pearl, year by year. The lagoon Is BO miles 1 .ng; the shell Is easily got by nstlve divers; It Is almost Inexhaustible. Like everything else on Manala; It •eems ns If It had never begun, and never would cease to be, Lvckhart'e trader—his name was down on the books of the firm ns Jones; a flsme somewhat overwoi kerl among the islands, like biullh, wtl Brown, and Johnson—shut the etore —though It was not yet dusk—and went to look for the other traders. He had a mind to take a holiday next day; and in the out back islands, when you feel like holidaying, you appeal to your brothers and rivals in trade to join you honorably, and holi day too. Jones was well aware that this longing for unearned vacations and for endless loafing was a shade, a leaflet, from the many leaved shadow of the palm. So was sleeping after lunch. So was neglecting, not raring, to read papers from home. Tonight he wanted talk as other men wanted drink. He had to have It—and for the same reason. The '.raders gave it to him. Through the flood of conversation, Lockhart's trader learned some start ling things. Hr. Glascott was trying (so the traders said) to make pearls. Had been trying for IX years. Of I course he would, not find out how. No one ever had. Glascott's daugh- i ter (Jones, of course, had heard he had one—the only white woman on Manaia, except the missionary’s wife), was a pretty young girl, and a real lady. No mother. Brought up here since a little kid, the missionary and his wife educating—with help from Glascott himself. Wouldn’t look the same side of the beach as any white man on Manaia, hut they all thought her bonzer. for all that. Age? Nineteen to a week. Lockhart’s trader name of Jones, went home feeling that Manaia prom ised to he interesting. He felt that there might he a long, interesting lcve-story ahead of him. A young and beautiful girl—a professorial father, wrapped up in science, but doubtless resolved to see hUt daughter mate worthily; secret meetings, per haps (Imagination jibbed a little here, for there was not one secluded spot or. the whole of Manaia'* 50 mhes of glaring sand nnd palms), a handsome trader with a sad story In the past— a romantic, girl who loved for love’s sake only. It would he like some thing In a book or on the stage. The man named Jones fiaw a yenr or two very pleasantly passed away —In Ills dreams—with a "Take-her and be happy" scene at the last, and a .tin—large size—of Swift and Arran's cake, gronnlng beneath the tin-opener. Beneath the shadow nil things are leisurely, nor Is anything of much ac count—save one. That thing Is swift, that thing counts, outweighs all other1 things, turns rules Into exceptions, and Its own huge, dark exception to a rule. It Is death. Lockhart's trader was busy next morning—as much as he. or anyone, was ever busy—shutting things up In preparation for the holldny, when his native cook boy paddled Into the store. "fine reva reva (letter) I gettum,” he remarked. ’’Hnnd It here," said Jones, tsklng the envelope without looking at it. "Any answer?" "No savvy." Then, ss an after thought: "Te wahlne papa (the white woman) stop long kltsen." "The what?" Jones snatched at the letter. It was directed to him In a man's hand, clear though shaky. “What can the doctor he writing about?" he mused aloud. "Horklta," remarked the cooky, with the air of one who has Interest ing gossip to relate, "docklta, he pln iah" (finish). "My soul! Is the doctor dead?" "K! He go plnlsh. Altogether.” Lockhart's trader pulled himself to gether nnd unfolded the letter. "Dear Jones," it began. "I have no time for preliminaries. I have been bitten by a sea-snake In the neck while investigating lagoon fish In their natural habitat. The snake Is I’elnmla Blcolor, excessively poisonous I mn alone In my house. I scarified the bite after reaching home, nnd applied permanganate of potash. 1 have also taken strychnine hypodermic, which will give me time to write. As It Is Impossible to apply a ligature, and ss some time was consumed In reaching the house, I have no possible rhance of recovery. I shall no doubt be dead before my daughter return*. “No use commenting on things, no time. You are a gentleman, the only one here, end I believe you to he a decent man. Of roni-se you have done aomethlng I hope It's not very had You >*lii iutve to ,*ec her ante to Byd ney as soon ns a schooner calls. Get a respectable native woman to stop with her, if there is one. Tell her to sleep with my Colt automatic under her pillow. She understands it. Keep the other men away as much ns you can. 1 suppose you'll fall in love with her. For the sake of your own mother—treat her right. She will have money. Get her away; the Isl ands must not ha\’e her. May heaven deal with you. Pulse slowing very much, coma supervening.'' Then, dear, determined, drooping across the page: "JAMES GLASCOTT.'' Then, faint, trailing off into a clear: "Get her away." It was only a few yards to the Kitchen, but thought is quick, and the man called Jones had time, he ft' e he reached the separate small hut behind the house, to realize that ii!« romance of a lazy dream had aud it nlv and embarrassingly leaped to ■ > nplete life. More, he had—ii seem ed—come to tlie end before fairly reaching the beginning. It was stag gering. And he hadn't even seen the girl. The girl was sitting on a kitchen chair, her head on one hnnd. She was not crying. She was deathly white and had blue marks under her eyes; and about her nostrils there was a look ,-u if someone had placed two cruel fingers on each side of the lit tle nose, anil pinched sharply down. In the half-light, Jones could not see tine details, hut the largeness of her dtmly-dark eyes, the masses of pals hair, the clean eggshape of the fare, were visible at a glance; and all spelled the one word, "Beauty.” "Miss ftlnseolt—how can I say—" he began. The girl scarcely looked a' W\\WV<J him, drew another letter from her pocket. "I think you'd better see It," she sold; nnd donee knew, by the hoarse, catarrhal sound nf her voice, that six had been crying herself hnlf sick be fore ahe conic, "Yon wont this; take It,” he said, setting beside her a tumbler half filled with fiery port. Kha took It eagerly. Jones Judged that she wua o ntlie verge of a col lapse, end glad to snatch nt any kind of help. He ran on eye rapidly over ihs second letter. It was In the anme close script os the first, but the lines writ more Irregular. "Nadine, My Daughter," It began. "You will auffer terribly when you come home ond find me here, and I can't soften the blow to you Tou wore always brave, my girl; you will have to i.a braver stllUtitodav. Think that dud l.t with you, though silent telling you what to do, and he sure and do It. "I have been bitten by n snake in the neck, and can do nothing more. I feel comb not far off. You will find a letter addressed to Lockhart’s trader. He is a gentleman, though some sort of wrong 'tin; J believe you can trust him, and you must, as the Mission people are all away; I have asked him to find a native woman to stay with you, and to take you, if be can manage It, down to Sydney by the first schooner. Tell Lockhart Brothers when you arrive, and they will see he does not lose. "There is a paper of the utmost importance in the little safe in tho sitting room. The key is round iny neck. Leave the paper there till you go south, and then take it with you. and give it to my old friend. Brof. Kaye of Sydney university. Your whole future—I have no time. Kaye'e wife will take care—Goodbye, my darling. No burial. The boys to take me beyond the reef. Goodbye." The man named Jones read the letter. The reference to himself, which she had clearly overlooked, did not seem to hurt him. He scanned the girl with his handsome gold-grey eyes. Nadine, brought back to life and ordinary consciousness by the wine, gave back his look with a searching, pitiful glance of her own. "Can I trust you? Can I trust you?” she seemed to be saying. And the kindly, handsome eyes, and the firm, reliable hand that took hold of here, gave answer even before the man named Jones had spoken. "I know the woman for you," he told the girl. "We'll go and find her now. The boys—did the boys—?" "Yes,” said Nadine hoarsely. "I told them to. He always hated— graves. And he loved the sea and everything In It. And it hns—" Sne meant to say "It hag killed him,” hut her voice gave way. Nevertheless she followed the man called Jones out Into the flaring sun light, her head held up, anil her delicately shaped face unstained by tear*. "She 1* game," thought the man to hlmaelf. A thrill of admiration ran through him. "How could » man do belter?” wne his thought, Olnirott'a sentence, "She will have mnnev,” crossed hi* mind "It can't lie much,” lie thought Indifferently. "The doctor lived lilt* a poor man," Away on the farther beach canoes were being launched, the cut ion finery of the native girl* showed In vivid splashes of color, the khaki figures of while men moved about. All Manilla was bound on holiday. "There will be nothing to disturb her today or tomorrow, and she can have all her cry out," thought lAO-k linrt'a trader, lie found the woman hn bad bean looking for, un old ua Nevertheless she followed the man Jones . . . her head held up and her delicately shaped face unstained with tears. . . . Away on the further beach canoes were being launched. . . . All Alanaia was bound on holiday. /ktxumttM •T«a*’ niclit, to wahlne pnpn no sleep. Too nuirli him cly." tlve with a touch of white blood somewhere in her history; told her to take good care of the little chieftain ess, and then went back to his store. "I'll come and see you soon,” he said, pressing the girl's cold fingers in his own warm hand. "Send tor me instantly if anything is wanted. I shan't go away, but I’ll leave you to yourself for a couple of days.” “Little witch,” said the trader to himself. "I wish it was the day after tomorrow. It’s long to wait.” As things happened, it was not long. JJy 7 o'clock next morning, the old woman whom he had sent to take care of Nadine was on his veranda. "You looking out along dis wahine papa?” (white woman) she asked, taking her black pipe out of her mouth. "Yes." answ'ered Lockhart's trader. "Me t’ink,” observed old Mala, “more better you marry dis wahine papa. More better marry him hurry up." "I shouldn't object,” was the trader'* answer, "but I daresay there'd be two words to that bargain. I mean. Mala, that wahlne papa maybe him no want along me-fellow,” he translated. "Las’ night, me no sleep,” re marked Mala. "Oh?" night te wahlne papa no sleep. Too much him cly.’’ "Yes, I suppose so," se'd th# man called Jones. Poor, pretty, lonely girl! "Te wahlne papa, me, no sleep al together. By-’n-’by, him fllnlsh cly, him too much tired. No sleep, stop long bed. Me atop long floor. No me talk, no him talk. By-'n-by, me hearem sometlngs.” "Oh—you heard something?" “Bo. Me hearem one man. Two mans." The trader waa wide awake now A red hot word or two escaped his lips. "Eo," assented Mala, agreeing. “Bad man. Come flghtem along door” (hitting the door). "Te wahlne papa, hi mtakem gun, him soot up long te roof. Man he flight, he go.” “Did they aay anything?" asked Jones furiously. Only let him get a clue to th# name or names of the In truders! He hardly knew It, hut In that mo ment his resolution was taken. It was very clear that some man would have the girl. The man should he himself. He was Incomparably the most worthy on Manala. Nadine, In all honor, and most for her own sake —though not a little foe hla—should he his wife, and as soon as posslbl*. But Mala was speaking again. “Man him talk, yes,” she observed 'Him sing out along te wahlne papa, 'Openem eafe. " "Open the safer’ A recollection darted through the trader's mind. "She will have money." Could the doctor have anything hoarded away? What did he mean hy "valuable paper*’’" Probably bonds of some kind. Whatever It was, the riffraff of the “beach” seemed to know all about If. The bungalow stood In the fierce light of th# coral beech. Olascott hsd had It built right down on the sand, for the convenience of hla work. "Eleven year*,” thought the trader "Eleven years wasted-nothing to show for It all, and the girl hurled away up here. He mennt ahe should go away. H# waa ao afraid, poor dev il. of that shadow of the palm" he talked ahout. And how—” Now, as things had turned out, the shadow was to 11* on little Nsdlna'a Ilf# forever. No one knew better than "Jones" why an existence linked to hla could not be lived elsewhere than among the "legions of the loat." But he had a fund of hard common sense thst forbad# him to sentlmentallxe over the Inevitable. With drunken beach combers battering at th# girl's shutters In the middle of the night— 'here wna only one course possible, and that course must he taken nt once No schooner wna due for months. He could not protect theglrl for n week nmnng that crowd—unless he had the right to do so every hour of the twenty four. Nadine was on the vernudn, He Kit down hesld# her. He snw how vary fnlr ahe was. And the girl, looking on the trader’s splendid height and hand some face, nald to herself, ss ninny a woman In the world, who would die rather Ilian acknowledge It, has wild "Oh, 1 like you. 1 think I would marry you tomorrow If you naked me" But ahe thought th<s as one thinks, "I would gather gtarn and string them, If the sky were to full 111 my lap." Then the sky fell. Fur Dockhart's trader slid tier little hand gently into Ills own and said, "Nadine, what do you think about marrying me’" ' I 1 I haien't thought about It anhl Nadine confusedly. "Don't von think you could'’ You want to he taken care of. You can t be exposed to—to—well, you know your father left me In charge of you. and I don't see any other way. Do you, Nadine?” The girl made no answer in words. "There Isn't any other way,” said Jones, and, very gently kissed her. At this she suddenly burst out cry ing, and said, "I have forgotten fath er—oh, dear, dear father!" But the man called Jones was not dissatisfied “Tomorrow," It was agreed. And that night Lockhart's trader lay across the doorway of the bungalow outside on the verandah. And no footsteps came near the house. But In the morning he saw hootmarks on the sand hclow, and he silently cursed. ■'Today,” he said to himself. He breakfasted with Nadine, old Mala waiting. "I've something to tell you before you marry me," he said. "It may make you feel bnd about It, hut I hope It won't, because It would be dlfllriult to manage any other way. However, It shall be as you like. Fifteen years ago, Nadine, I killed a man—a fight and he was dead.” “Well. I had a good counsel, or they'd have hanged me. I got five years, and aerved It all, because I tried to escape. I had to leave Kng land after. I tried Sydney—Buenos Ayres—Hong Kong. All the same. My history came after me. I fancy the police hand on those things. Any how, It was the Islands for me at last, and it will have to be. till the end. What do you say now. Nsrttne?” "I can’t do what your father wanted for you. You will have to stay In the islands.” "I always have, ever since I re member,” she said In a low tone. “Anything before that seems like a dream.” “Kittle girl." said T^ickhart's trader, "It's not the big live world outside that's the dream: It's the Islands themselves We all live In a dream here." "Then I'd rather go on dreaming,” she told him. "Things will be as they must be.” said the man named Jones, and went out to see the magistrate. The way to the hut that passed for a residency was by the main road of the bench. Men weie moving ex citedly about the aand when Jonos came up from the end where Olas cott's bungalow stood. There was loud talking and quarreling. "They are drunk." thought Kock hart's trader, Inferring that yester day's holiday hail been too much for the crowd. He passed them by with a swing ing step—he was the one white man on Mannla who did no* progress with the "Pacific alouch"—and was almost out of earshot, when a single phase caused him to turn round In his tracks. Pearl manufacture” He stood still. The wind crashed In the palms overhead, the sea hurst on the coral bench. How those f*l lows were shouting! He could hear almost alt they said. "I tell you, the boy swore It. Said h# had aeen the pearls. In a bottle. Rig as buttons.” "Yes, all from the same small place, where he'd planted the oysters himself. I swear, he got It before he—" "Whether she does or doesn't don't matter, Bona* of us will—" "It's a million fortuns*—” The man named Jones was a quick thinker. He turned off through the palms, and went hack to the bunga low unseen. Nadine was not on the verandah: she had gone Into the hot little sit ting room, and was standing before the steel safe that Olasseot had Im ported from Sydney, only a month or two entiler. In her hand was a key. "Are you going to look for the pa pers’" he asked hei "Do you know what they are?” "No," answered the girl. "Rut I thouaht—I thought—there might lie another letter for me, and I didn't want to mis*-" "Nadine- Is It possible you don't know what people are anylng?” • What?" "The men on the beach are saying vnur father found the serret before ho died—It seems his hoys saw things." "Hs never told me," said Nadine, her eyes growing hlg "He—he only said—-I remember, lately, he used to be always telling ms that 1 should never want for anything, and that we would take a trip to Paris. But 1 didn't listen ss I should have You knew, everyone In the Islands says things like that.” "Ay. 1 know' Well, l can under stand Ills not telling you Hs thought you were safe- without such a piece of knowledge It would be a heavy Ink for mil Milt I lie boys nave gl\en It away. I think you'd better open the safe anil look Inside. As well be sure.'' « "Why?'’ said Nadine, turning round with the key in her hand—and now she was alive and awake—"why don't you like It?” "nid 1 say I didn't?” "Ydur voice tells me.” "My voice tells lies I'm very glad Indeed, If It turns out true—for your sake.” "Why not yours?'' "Let me turn the key for you: safe keys aren't managed like that— there.” "It Is true,” breathed Nadine, star ing into the safe. There was a small bottle inside, with five or six pearls in it. large, beautifully colored, and uniform in size. There was another bottle, full of lesser gems, almost all the •unit size to a hair. Between the two lay a small parchment envelope, staled, tilt name of a well-known Aus trallan man of science written on tt. The girl heard Lockhart's trader catch his breath. "What is it?” she asked, swinging round to look at him. .She was learn ing love's lessons quickly. Her man should not suffer pain that she could prevent. But Jones had nothing to sav. He stood, staring at the lagoon Was It the sealight that made his j face so pale? “They are worth a good bit." he! said. "One could easily hire a pearl J ing lugger—and catchc the steamer at the Kariva islands. One could get off tomorrow—or today. I could see you to Kariva.” "What dn you mean?” asked Na jdlne In a. low. startled voice. "I don’t understand.'' "I've got to make you. This changes everything.” He went on. despite the sudden clutch of the small fingers. ' Nadine, don't you see? If your father got that secret before he died—about the history of the para site that makes the pearls—and there’s no reason why he shouldn't: someone was bound to some day—you are about the biggest heiress in all the world. You can't go on living in the Islands. It would be madness.” "Father tised to say," said the girl breathlessly, "that If he ever did complete the life history of the para site, and produce it whenever he chose, It would destroy the pearl In dustry. and amash prices.” "When It's known—Yes. But as long as the secret is kept in right hands, there's millions in it. Can't you understand, you're a sort of little princess, or going to be? And—I—no man—it wouldn’t be right or decent —to ti* you to these outback places at the end of the world." Nadine was quite coo] now. and exceedingly awake. "Then you don't wish to marry me, any longer?" she asked. “'You are not going to marry me?” "Nadine, how could 1 do It?” “I would stay." "I’d be the lowest of curs If I let you.” “You could come away—and not mind—” she murmured. "Only to another place like this. I'm In the shadow—as your father said— for life. He never wanted you to stay In it If you married me, you'd he In the shadow for good—you who are the richest girl in the—It's no use. I've made you cry again. Nadine!” But the ghl had darted away, Jones took another turn up and down the veranda. If she was cry ing, he could not hear her. "Nadine!" he called. She made no answer, hut he could hpar her stir ring, somewhere altout the back veranda. The sounds stopped. It was quiet In the house, save for the eter nal shrilling of the wind among the palms. Mala had gone out: the place was very solitary. Nothing to be heard. Nothing to *ee, hut the dance of the blown sand along the beach, and hibiscus hells, golden and ruby-hearted, flying before the wind, and Paper? Black paper In fragments, blowing round from the hack of the house. Paper undoubtedly. Burned paper. And a smell of hurning some where at the hark. "She -she can't-—" said Lock harts tiader; and made s rush for i h» house. You shouldn't burn'papers so close 10 the house In a high wind," he proffered. "What have you been hurning?" He made his tone quite commonplace, because now he was sure that no one could be such an angelical tool—no one ought to. "I've been burning the letter to Professor Kaye." she said. "Thsre s nothing left, nothing, nothing—ex cept perh ps a necklace for me." Jones took hold of the veranda rail to steady himself. "Oh, my girl, my girl, what have you done?” he cried. "I—didn’t want to be an heiress— and go away," said Nadtote. “If you teil me you're sorry-” "Sorry?” said Lockhart's trader: and took her In his arms. They walked together down the long beach to the magistrate's under the palms; and the shadow* were full of golden light. (Copyright. ItSS.l Since cold baths Increase blood i pi essure. those who have high blood pressure should not take them. MOTHER ? Fletcher’s Castoria is a pleasant, harmless sub stitute for Castor Oil, Paregoric, Teething Drops and Soothing Syrups, prepared for Infants in arms and Children all ages. It has been in use for more than 30 years to safelv relieve Constipation Wind Colic To Sweeten Stomach Flatulence Diarrhea Regulate Bowels Aids in the assimilation of Food,promoting Cheerfulness.Rest and Natural Sleep without Opiates To amid imitation* alwav* look for the signature of Proven direction* on each package. Phv»ician* everywhere recommend it. WANTED! 15,000 SBFFEREIS FROM DEAFNESS HEAD NOISES Or Nasal Catarrh I want the name* of 15.000 people who are suffering from cartourhal deafne», dullness of hearing or head noises. 1 have an original home treatment far theae (UMitwrj .'uadlltoas wt.trh I want rmt W» try without coat or evpmat \ suffered f<v many year* with catarrh, deafeM* and head antae* tied many <11 fryer-t t**at M.r: tt !ud tu.' eu**1<'*j epee* upas all c4 tMrh felled to five d . ^lunuanent rriiet I Invin fvimrwntu* pm myaaif amt fnaity nxihd a treatment whwh complete!* hra'ed my catarrh ra wawrwata sm«iaiiii et.%r*d my heartnf end Hepped Um tamwe head natex. 1 warn you to try this splendid treatment entirety at my c*ww expense. 15,000 TREATMENTS TO ETD|TCf BE GIVEN THIS MONTH ■ FtKE. l am an proud or my treat mart and ao anttooa to help other* an (Terr i mi with daafPeaa head tmlaee or catarrh that 1 will have packed end read* for ahlp ntanl 1ft 000 demonstration treatment# which I alii •!«e away In Use neat *0 day* abe»iut*iv free l want tn pwr* that my original home treatment win ft'a relief from Oaiarrhal deafaaaa head ***** of naaal catarrh The reeutte are auvek and fgavtucla* You feel the difference the m*t da\ Thta treatment coata you nothing whatever Wro pt> writ# amt aae that ywu aee auffecing with deat hs <* head notaee or catarrh 1 wtu «i*4U ernd the free treatment It la the heel treatment T have eecr found in user 40 yeare dally practice m eta. aar noae and throat ai«evtatt»1 1 want ever* •>i#efar with d earn me dulinaaa of beano* head MftM* or catarrh to try ft tree Don't Neglect Deafness Oaiarrhal deataeae head tsotaea and catarrh when no* tec ted tra.tuaMvgrow wore* ant ho it lea claim that v <*( all deaftvean la cauaed t*tmem th hy catarrh *1 the head amt atr naaaMae. Other* aval* that eatan h ea-.ieea it>.tvfC*UoA, rhe-.iuattarv catarrh rtf the atomenh ami auy other (Uaeaaect comV.tkme Try It Free 1 dAttT aak cwi to eerwt eee penrv Fee tMe tTHlmetit 1 aeml It free la ym MhMtd ett-V «tuI crte* I am a uui tMa ta QtaMmty tntradaea my •'Ttetnal hant treat ate* t w anffecere *f catarrhal deefneea. head mu*** *r catarrh I belter# I treat m.tre caeca »* »tca r*#ae ha ad n.aaey a»Kt catarrh than nay phpa* ten in the V Altai HUtw I knee thia uealmmt M the heat I Kara ever vtaaat (Mart year name amt a«Mraaa today, mete whether mu have deahteae <tr head r \«aea rtr Mat hare oat err* Title MW mat M ap pear mm eo ar*te me at ertce Pft.W. O. COFFEE. Suit! St. Jama* Hot.l Bldg., DatMiport,