Hobvser JSfebif *Rc [Copyright, 1903. by C. B. Lewis.] MR. BOWS Kit has no regular set programme with his grocer or butcher or coal man, nor has he any set policy with the cobbler who builds up his shoes at intervals or the street peddlers who shout their wares over his front gate. It is only with bis family druggist that he holds to programme and policy. He began it fifteen years ago and is sticking right to it yet. There have been several changes of family druggists, but no change in Mr. Bowser. When the old druggist vacates the corner store and a new one takes his place, Mr. Bowser is on band among the first callers. He isn't there to have a prescription filled cr to invest in a hot water bag, but to give a little friendly advice. A dozen grocers may come and go and he gives them no heed, but with the family druggist the case is different. "My name," begins Mr. Bowser as he enters the store, 'is Bowser. I live "SIR, YOU HAVE A DRUG STOKE HERE." around the corner and half way down the block. Although I have only a small family, I am a liberal patron cf drug stores, and I always pay (rush. You know your business as a druggist, do you?" "I think I do," is the reply as the druggist colors up. "That is well. This is no corner for a druggist who has only half learned his business. You have come into a new neighborhood. "Success or failure will depend upon your personality. Always greet every caller with a smile of welcome. Don't take any part in politics and don't become a fixture at any particular church. Stand neutral between capital and labor and don't have any family rows to cause gossip. I am advising you as a friend who has your interests at heart and therefore speak plainly and to the point. I am in a hurry this morning, but will call again soon and give you further pointers. Menowliile think over and profit by what I have already said." The family druggist is generally a man who sizes up human nature pret "BY THUNDER, BUT I ty closely, and he decides to bear with Mr. Bowser. That's the beginning of it, and the end only comes when the poor man dies or finds seme one to buy him out. Mr. Bowser at once becomes a sort of guardian and partner of that drug store. When he isn't playing guardian and partner he is making himself a nuisance, and one that nothing can abate. The interest he ! exhibits in stock and sales couldn't be - greater if he had $10,000 of his own . * M..1 money mvesieu. "Sir," exclaims Mr. Bowser as he I advances upon The man of drugs and | walks on his toes and shakes a finger i I under his nose, "you have got a drug j store here, but what is a drug store ' without patronage? I am giving you i my countenance and support, and { through me you are getting tiie pat- j ronage of this neighborhood. If you ' want me to withdraw, if you want nie! to take my custom elsewhere"? That settles the family druggist, and he decides that it is better to bear the > ills lie has than to be thrown out of business. lie therefore forces a smiie to his face and replies: "You mustn't take what I said so | seriously. I have depended upon your : friendly interest and advice right along, and I shall continue to do so." ! "Then don't virtually tell me that, this or that is none of my business." "I surely didn't intend to. Try one He Act/ Adviser ^nd Tries His Beyt ng to Help the I sfCorner Drug, I'll take yer wool off 'less You hurry up those slippers." (He knows he couldn't 'cause it's took A'ready with th' clippers.) An' then he sets an' smokes an' reads. An' mother sets a-sewin' A-makin' clo'es for sister?s'prise You how that kid is growin'! An" I jes' sorter wait aroun". A-hopin' dad's most through it. 'Cause then he'll tell me 'bout th' tale 'T's got a giant to it. "They ain't no news but polytiks," Bimeby dad s?-z, a-yawnin", "An' John Smith's paintin' of his fence, An" Green's put up an awnin'." So then I climb up on his knee. An' he sez. "You young urchin." An' rubs his whiskers 'gainst my face An' thinks I need a bircliin*. "But. waal," ho sez. "onct on a tim$ Was Jack th' Giant Killer"? An' tells about th' dredfllest things, 'T jes' plumb skeer a fellow. An' how Jack sworded off their heads, An' all th' blood 'twas makin', An', Jim'nv Gee. when bedtime comes, I sneak upstairs Jes' shakin'! ?Truman Robert Andrews In Leslie's Monthly. Oil the Defensive. Doctor?Your case is so complicated that I think I ought, to call a couple of other physicians in consultation. Patient?Indeed? In that case, doctor, I think I ought to have my attor ney present to represent my interests. A Cure for Dyspepsia. I had Dyspepsia in its worst form and felt miserable most all the time. Did nnt, enjoy eafciDg until after I used Kodol Dyepepeia Cure which has completely cured me.?Mrs. W. W. Saylor, Hilliard, Pa. No appetite, loss cf "strength, nervousness, headache, constipation, bad breath, sour rieiDgs, indigestion, dyspepsia and all stomach troubles are quickly cured by the use of Kodol. Kodol represents the natural juices "of digestion combined with the greatest known toDic and reconstructive properties. It cleanses, purifies and nweetens the stomach. Sold by all druggists. A Tlarht Fit. An Englishman entered a tailor shop In Twenty-third street the other day and, throwing a package on the counter, said: "These trousers are a beastly fit. You'll have to fix 'em. They're tighter than my skin, don't you know." "But that's impossible! How could they be?" demurred the tailor. "Well. I can sit down in ray skin, but I cawn't sit down when in those blooming breeches!" was the wrathful answer.?New York Press. Didn't Worry Her. "Doesn't it make you angry when folks twit yon about your failure to acquire a husband?" asked the girl who was doiusr her first season. "Not me," replied the philosophical spinster. "It is better to be laughed at because you are not married than not to be able to laugh because you are."?Brooklyn Eagle. BnsineH*. I "I see you have chicken for dinner." "Yessuli," said Mr. Erastus Pinkley. "I hope you bought the chicken." "Well, no; but de transaction were strictly regular. Dat chicken has been roostin' 011 my fence foh months wifout payin' mi fill),' an' I reckoned it were 'bout time to fohclose."?Wash* Ington Star. Anxlotm to Anal*t. Doctor?It may be, madam, that there Is something wrong with your vocal cords. I willHusband of Mrs. Yick-Senn (hastily interrupting)?You will find nothing the matter there, doctor. I ain almost sure the trouble is with her liver.?Chicago Tribune. Serloas, Indeed. "Miss Summergal must be quite seriously ill. She hasn't any appetite at all." 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