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V v nnurrnnutytTUguutTrTnrynu lOUISA’S gILVER REDDING. Qv HEL-EN A DIXON. a a m ro^ a a a a OU lu.-iy ainrry biui. Louisa. siJice you are so deter mined. But you know that neuber your mother nor myself approves your choice. The sou of a Jruukard, and one who Is likely to be come one himself, Is no flt husband for you.*’ “Oh, father, Vincent will never drink intoxicating liquors; he has promised me that he never will.” Father and daughter sat alone in the coxy sitting room of their country home. Louisa was as wayward as a spoiled child. She was the only one left at home of the little flock that once nightly gathered there. Her brothers and sisters were all married. The former were brawny, well-to-do farmers, living not far away, and the latter contented, hard-working wives •f farmers. Of course, everybody ex pected Louisa, when her time came to leave the paternal roof, to marry some thrifty tiller of the soil, and settle down near the old home, as the others had done. And it might have been so had not Vincent Lenoir, with his handsome face and captivating manners, come among them and opened her eyes to the fact that she was not horn to drudge forever in a dismal farmhouse. So Harvey Webb, the honest, big-hearted fellow, who the neighbors thought would lead away the old deacon's pet. was discarded, and Vincent Lenoir took hie place, and a much larger place Miau poor Harvey had ever filled In Louisa's heart! Vincent had come city, and for a time lionized on account mental qualities; hut known that he was habit of visiting the village tavern, and that he often came from there extreme ly unsteady, people shook their heads. Then his conduct began to be openly commented upon, and finally one after another had turned their faces against him, till the young man would have fled in dusgust from (he village hut for one thing—the deacon’s house held an attraction for him. He loved Louisa, ami went one day to ask her to marry him just when the indignation of the order-loving vil lagers was at its height, and the good deacon, who had bent his ear lo the general verdict, withheld his consent. Vincent, fully determined to win the old man’s consent, went hack to his city hotne, and at the end of six months again appeared as a suitor for the hand •f Louisa. He was so much improved in appear- anep and avoided so entirely the village tavern, that the deacon, taking into consideration that Louisa was pining to a shadow, gave his consent, though re luctantly. as we have seen. “You can marry, since you seem so bent and hound to have each other; but I shall give you no ‘setting out’ nor honor you with a grand wedding such as your sisters had. This man may take you with your good looks and your wardrobe just as they are, if he WWfBff! lAVV?«.re fer sioxac ef these things. And he sha!l have from a distant he was greatly of his brlihant when it became in the constant things, nothing else, unless ” Louisa was crying softly, and trying her best to keep her tears from being seen. They did not escape her father’s notice, however, though he pretended unconsciousness. “Unless he conducts himself like a man. and abstains entirely from strong drink.” “He will, father! Oh, I am sure lie will!” Louisa did not say this to gain the “setting out” or the “grand wedding;” she was only anxious that her future husband should he considered worthy In her father's eyes. “Well, if he does, I shall know it; and if he does not, you will know It. and feel it most, my child; though it ■will make me miserable, too. Now I will tell you how I shall act toward you. and you must not think because I do what I consider my duty, that I am lacking in love for my youngest child.” The old deacon brushed his sleeve across his eyes, and went on: “Lenoir may have you, and take you to his home as Soon as you choose. Your brothers, and sisters, and myself, Will hold no communication with you. If in five years you can come to us bringing with you a husband who has lived up to the promise he has made you, onr arms will be open to receive you both; and then you shall have your wedding party—your silver wedding, you may call It, though custom does hot sanction its being held so soon. WJrnt do you say?” Louisa said just what almost any woman who loved and placed a blind reliance on her Idol would have said. She accepted the conditions hopefully, confidently, and went to her new home, feeling certain that she would triumph in her husband's rectitude. Vincent kept his promise for a time faithfully, and Louisa, fully realizing the happiness she had anticipated, longed to communicate to her stern relatives the fact that their fears for her future were unfounded. But she must not. She had been forbidden even to write to the loved ones she had left for the arms of a stranger. Months passed, and Vincent occasion ally came home at night with flushed face and breath that would have sug gested brandy to any one less blindly trustful than Louisa. But when, as the weeks rolled by, he went so far as to enter her presence actually reel ing as he walked, her eyes could no longer be closed to the fact that her idol was no longer worthy of the high place to which her love had elevated him. At the end of a year his business —prosperous at the thus of h!s mar riage—bad suffered greatly through his unsteady habits. lu all this time Lou isa had not heard from home save in an indirect way. and she often wept •ver the thought that those whose memory she cherished so fondly, neither knew nor seemed to care whether she was numbered among the living or the dead. Another year was nearly passed, with no change In Vincent except for the worse, wheu one day the postman brought a letter over which the poor young wife wept scalding tears, and the unconscious babe In her lap looked np with wonderment In Its thin face at her look of keen anguish. The letter which caused Louisa so much sorrow— though under different circumstances it would have yielded/her only joy and delight—ran thus: “My Dear Child—Mother and I, and some of the others are coming to see you. It seems an age since you left us. If all is with you as we hope, the coming anniversary of your marriage •hall be kept at home as wc promised the fifth should he. That seems too long to wait. Mother and your broth ers and sisters send their best love. Your loving father, “GILES NEWCOMBE.” Louisa had read this first letter from home till she knew it by heart, yet she drew it forth once more as she sat slowly rocking her babe to sleep. It was 10 o'clock, her usual bedtime, but Vincent had not yet come in, and she, poor, patient soul, never thought of going to her rest," however weary she might he. till he came. She heard his footsteps soon, not walking lightly, buoyantly, as in the days that seemed to the heavy-hearted wife so far in th<* past, but heavily, sluggishly. He entered the room where, with the letter in her hand, she sat. One glance at the reeling form and she dropped the letter iu her pockee. In the morning she gave it to him. “Weil.” he said, when he Lad finished it, “so they're coming to pass judgment upon me. arc they? Better wait. I should think, till I ask them. I ask no odds of anybody's relations, and I’ll not submit to this court-martial sort of thing which these people propose.” “Oh. Vincent!” That was all Louisa said, but the tears which filled her eyes might have spoken volumes to the erring husband had he rightly interpreted them. The girl-wife—for she was hut a girl in years, though old in hitter experi ence-turned away her face, and lean ing against the mantel, sobbed and cried till even Vincent Lenoir’s dulled sensibilities were stirred. “There, Louisa, don't be a baby. I know I’ve disappointed you. and I’ll disappoint your folks when thry come and see me ” “But. Vincent,” bitterly sobbed Lou isa. “you needn’t ” “Needn’t come home as I did last night, you would say? Well, I will not. Only let me know when they are coining.” “But I cannot tel’, you that, Vincent. Father didn't state when they would be here. Oh, I might have been so proud of you. my husband, if you had only ” Louisa broke down in a fresh burst of tears. “I know you’ll be ashamed of me be fore them. Lou, and I shall be ashamed of myself. But there’s no use in my trying to he anything more than the miserable thing I am. Only I'll prom ise to keep straight while your rela tives are here. Will they come to day, do you (Link?'’ “They may, Vincent; you’ll not for get?” The young wife put her arms around her miserable husband’s neck and kissed him. He returned the kiss, say ing: “No; I’ll be sure to remember.” He left the house for his place of business. That afternoon, while Louisa, almost happy in her husband's promise, was busy with her little one, the doorbell rang, and a troop of smiling-faced country peoph^iteaded by the good old .io.ie->», -» t*1 iu. UY.irs were shed, as they always are at such iiKct- ings. Greetings were exchanged and •the baby was duly kissed and admired. Tea was postponed that Vincent might share it with them. Louisa cast uneasy glances ever and anon down the street, but Vincent did not come. “Is he generally so late, my darling?” asked the kind-faced mother. And Louisa colored and stammered, and only made out to say: “Sometimes.” The deacon and some of the brothers exchanged glances. The deacon's wife and one or two of the sisters wiped their eyes. “I’ll just walk down the street a little and meet him,” said the deacon. And he went. The worthy man had gone a couple of blocks, when he recognized in a man staggering toward him the one who had won from his ol 1 age its last cher ished flower—and only to crush it. He turned, and was slowly retracing his steps, when Vincent Lenoir came up with him. “Don’t know what Lou'll say,” he muttered to himself, “she’s mighty par- tic’lar;” then laying his hand on (he deacon’s shoulder: “What d’you think ’bout it, old man—don't you think she's mighty par-tic’lar?” "What about?” asked the deacon, huskily. “ 'Bout me an’ my in'cent in-dul- genees.” The old man made no answer. His heart was too heavy for speech. He had hoped to find his daughter’s hus band all that could be desired; and how had his hopes fallen! “But I’ll tell you, old man, there'll be an uncommon time to-night. You see she’s looking for her folks—straight- laced set—and she’s ’fraid I won’t make a ’spectable ’pearance—don’t you see? But let ’em rip. I’m my own boss yet, old man, and I don’t care a snap for their silver weddings, nor their ’spcct either, don’t you see? Straight-laced set; very narrow-mind ed, you see.” When they reached the house occu pied by Lenoir the deacon followed his son-in-law up the steps. “Going in, old man? Well, I do’ know as I’d better let you. You don’t look ex-exactly ’spectable, you see. and Lou'll s'boid and ’cuse me of ’sociating with old ragmuftins: so you see ’taint convenient. Come down t’ the inn t'morrow night, and I’ll be there. You’re a brick—you are.” Notwithstanding this the deacon was close upon Vincent’s heels when he opened the door and appeared in the presence of his wife and her relatives. Louisa, too overwhelmed with morti fication to utter a word, sank down in a chair iu a corner of the room. The intoxicated husband took tio notice of the strange faces before him. Turning, he pushed a chair toward the deacon, with: "Sit down, old brick, an’ make your self at borne. I'll let Lou know 't I'm gov’ner here!” The brothers and sisters of the hu miliated wife had risen from their seats and stood around in silence. Presently Vincent’s eyes lit upon Mrs. Neweombe’s face. The old lady was holding the baby in her arms, but no one save a man in bis condition could have mistaken her wrinkled face for that of his young wife. He went up to the deacou's wife and clapped his hand on her shoulder. “Glum as a ghost, eh? But you see I'm gov'nor here, in’pendent 's a king on ’s throne;” and he made a flourish with such force tba<: he well-nigh lost his balance. Settliii£ his band again upon the old lady's shoulder, lie low ered his face till it almost touched her*. “D’ye see that old chap Bitting there peac’ble’s a Quaker? Well, be*i a friend of mine. I want him treated ’th proper ’spect, or I’ll ’venge in’self b’ coming home in ’stonlshing state of el’vation when your str'straight-laeed folks are here.” At this juncture he beheld himself re flected In a large mirror. Instantly striking a pugilistic attitude, he de manded: “Who are you, gaping at a gen’man in that style, an’ haven’t the manners to take off your hat? I’ll let you knot’ I’m boss here!” The drunken man executed a second flourish with his arms high in air and fell upon the floor, in his rapid descent nearly knocking his mother-in-law off her feet. The deacon seized his hat and overcoat. At a signal from him the others got their things, and then all slowly filed out of the house. The mother tarried a moment to bend over her daughter, who, covered with shame, sat still in the corner. She offered her the shelter of her old home, but Louisa only looked at her husband and shook her head. “He needs me, mother, and I cannot leave him.” It was late next morning when Vin cent awoke. He was thoroughly sober now. He brushed lus hand slowly over his eyes, and lay silently in deep re flection. scarcely moving for a long time. Then he got up. dressed him self. and went downstairs. He found Louisa crying over her baby, which lay sleeping in her lap. The husband, in whose memory every word and act of (he previous evening were clear, went to his wife’s side and knelt down. *T remember it all. Lou, and I know how you feel, and I am. for the first time in my life, thoroughly ashamed of myself.” We will draw a veil over the pair as they converse in low, solemn tones with each other, mingling their tears and their prayers over their sleeping infant. Three years passed away, and in the large room of Deacon Newcombe's house a littio company was gathered, of children and grandchildren. All who had once met daily around the good deacon’s fire were there save one, and that one Louisa. The faces of all were saddened as the mother, looking around upon the group, spoke her name. No one could (ell to what depth of misei\v she might have sunk ore this. In all those throe years they had had no tid ings of her. They had written, but (heir letters were never answered. Once one of the brothers had visited (he city and called at the house where the first two years of her married life were spent, lint new tenants peopled it and the name of Lenoir was unknown to them. They gathered around the well- spread table, young and old. “It is five years to-morrow since Louisa was married. I wonder if she remembers the promise I made her!” said the deacon, staring hard at his plate; and the mother answered: “Poor child! if she does, it will only add to her sorrow.” There was the noise of wheels out side. the sound of footsteps on the porch; then the knocker sounded, and in a moment, Louisa, radiant with health and happiness, entered the room, leading by the hand a bright- eyed boy. Her husband—not the blear- eyed, besotted creature they had looked upon three years before, but noble and manly-looking—a man whom the good deacon and his stalwart sons felt they could trrasn by the hand—followed iu a few moments. Later in the evening, when a vast amount of kissing and smiling through tears had been gone through with, Louisa led her little boy to the deacon’s side. “Isn't he handsome, father, and just like his papa? And only think, Vincent has never touched a drop of liquor since that dreadful night wheu I thought I should die for shame! And we are so happy!” And Mr. and Mrs. Lenoir had their sliver wedding after all, as the old man persisted in calling it, and many and costly were the preseuts showered upon Louisa, who, in her new happiness, looked as blooming as n newly made bride; but the gift she most prized was in the shape of a promise, that night renewed, by her husband, never again to touch aught that could in toxicate.—New York Weekly. WORDS OF WISDOM. When the door is opened on selfish ness love dies on the threshold. Do that assigned to you. and you can not hope too much or dare too much. “We are never beneath hope, while above hell: nor above hope, while be neath heaven.” If I cannot succeed in doing anything myself. I will not grudge another the doing of something noble.—Epictetus. There is one thing will warm up the man who preaches in an ice box, and that is to see people looking for a more genial climate.—Henry F. Cope, in Chi cago Tribune. Miserable thou art, whosoever thou art or whithersoever thou turuest, un less thou turn thyself to God. Keep thy heart free and lifted up to Him.— Thomas a Kempis. Whenever you speak, watch yourself; repentance follows every word which gladdens no heart. Let every thorn which people sow in thy road bloom in the lustre of thy smiles.—Persian. The great law of affinity, which is seen everywhere in nature, holds with the same unalterable, unmeasured force in the spiritual world. Every shade of mind draws its like, or is at tracted by kindred minds. We never know through what divine mysteries of compensation the Great Father of the universe may be carrying out His sublime plan; and those three words, “God is. love,” ought to contain to every doubting soul the solution of all things.—Miss Muloeb. The Heart’* Behavior. A recent publication of Ann Arboi University describes an instrument for securing a continuous graphic record of the pulse rate in man which affordt valuable indications of the heart’s work. The records show that the com mencement of muscular work is fol lowed almost simultaneously by a marked acceleration of the pulse. In fact, this modification of the pulse rate is observed in the next heart cy cle after the work begins. In typical cases there are Hire, well marked stages; a primary rise, a period of sus tained acceleration and a secondary rise. Similar stages of decrease in rate occur after the work stops. The rapidity of the pulse during work de pends not only upen the r mount of work done, but much more upon the manner in which it is done. Speed and resistance are factors requiring separate consideration, and of these two speed has the greate:- influence. These records show that while muscu lar work may not appreciably require the expenditure of bodily forces, it im mediately reacts upon the heart, and that conversely cessation of muscu lar exertion is an immediat relief to the heart.—Philadelphia /’ecord. , a Tt-rx •r , ,,u g?r mers. Something to Think About. F there is any one class of our people deserving of special favor at the bands of the Government It is the agricultural class, or strictly speaking, the far- class of people has ever done so much for the United States as the farming people. The farmers tamed the continent from a wilderness and made our country the very garden of the world, annually furnishing about seventy per cent, of our national exports. In respect to what they have done for the Government they need no herald; in respect to what they de serve at the hands of the Government every patriotic citizen, in public as well as private life, should be their advocate. The farmers of the United States, patient and determined, have made no demands, though bearing the heaviest burdens of life since the Re public was instituted. The time has come when they must have relief. Un der present highway conditions most everywhere the American farmer is practically imprisoned at home through at least the half of each year. That half of the year is the time when he could be best spared from the farm, and when, with good roads, lie could market his products at a profit for his toil. Now, however, he must leave tlie farm in summer or early fall—the only time when tiie roads are passable —to market ids products, and then al ways on a congested market, or take tiie chances of a hub-deep haul that kills his stock, breaks wagon and har ness. wears out the man and eats up tile fruit of Isis sweat. The good roads season for the American farmer is the very season when his whole time and attention should be given to bis farm operations; it is the crop season which waits for no man, and which, neglect ed, charges it up to the man behind tiie plow. AYe all know what that means. With good roads the farmer could do in's town going in rain or snow, or when tiie ground is too wet to plow; with bad roads, as they are now, as they have been from the be ginning and as they will be until the Government of tiie l nited States ex tends its aid as suggested in the Brownlow-Latimer bill, be must be the great national sufferer. It has been calculated by the Department of Ag riculture that every time the sun sets the had roads of tiie United States cost tiie American farmers $1,500,000. These are Government figures. How any public man can refuse to support legislation that will stop this dreadful drain passes the understanding of the average mind. Can the national con science and tiie national thought be unmoved at f aee with such a condi tion? Are .he people themselves asleep to their own material salva tion? How long can this sapping, sap ping, of farm life and farm vitality go on before the American farm borne is destroyed? And how long, pray tell, can the Republic stand after the destruction of the American farm house? , We lu/ipe to see the suggested good roads irgisdntion am through ai■ n e«<vsa the coining winter. It will, iff the peo ple get-together and demand, it. Let neighbofyood and county meetings be held eveiT'vhere and petitions go for ward to Senators and Representatives. Write to your Senator for Senate Doc ument ”04. T.Ok to your neighbor about it. Urge liTIWo write. Let us all get busy for goot^^ads.—Uptown Weekly. ^1 ii vs-jszm r*. - *•%'. ..* THE SMILE OF DEFEAT. CLEMENTINA GONZALES, OF CENTRAL AMERICA, RESTORED TO HEALTH. PE-RU-NA THE REMEDY Miss Clementina Gonzales, Hotel I’ro- vinciu, Guatemala, C. A., in a recent letter ironi 247 Cleveland Ave., C liicago, 111., writes: ‘• / foofc Pctnna fora n-oi'n-uutcon dition. 1 icon f<o run down that I c iti!d not slccji at nlijhl, had no «/#- petite and felt tire+ i n the morning. “1 tried many tonics, tut l*eruna wa* the only thing which helved me In the least. Alter I had taken but a half bottle / felt much better. 1 enu ti nued it* use ft/t'three iveeksaud 1 was coinylctely restored to health, and uas able to take up my studies which l had been forced to drop. There is nothing belter than Tcruua to build up the st/s:cm. ,, ~ Clemen tina tlon sales. Address The I’eruna Medicine Co., of Columbus, Ohio, for instructive free liltra- turc on catarrh. Of Course Not. “No,” remarked the young man, with a touch of sadness in his voice. “It may be that seme day happiness will be mine, but at present it is be yond me. There is a girl whom I love dearly. She woul 1 have me if I only asked her, hut I dare not. I really cannot marry and live on a thousand a year.” His two friends to whom he spoke looked at him in wonder. For a mo ment they were speechless—conster nation and pity depicted on their youthful countenances. But presently returned to them exactly at the same time and they fairly howled in their excitement: “You can’t marry on a thousand a year? Why not?” “Whv not?” echoed the youth, with a sad voice, which grew still sadder. “Why. simply because I haven't got the thousand.” And the mystery was explained.— Tit-Bits I.es* Expensive Roads. The town boards of Oneida County, N. Y., make the following suggestion: “We would not recommend that every town in this county have built within its borders a road costing on the aver age $7000 a mile, as we believe each town should govern itself according to its own local conditions, but we have provided figures to show that no matter whether a town has a high or a low assessed valuation, it could, un der the $50,000,000 bond issue, if its own board so desired, have, without excessive taxation, just as wide and just as exp?nsive roads as any other towns in any other part of ibe State. If the county and town c-.nn devise methods by which the roads to be built should have an average cost of $4000 a mile instead of $8000 a mile, the charge to tiie town under the bond is sue for each mile of highway built would be $.”0 for each mile the first year; and to the county, the increase in taxes the first year for each mile of highway would be $70; and to the State it would be $100, In other words, under the $50,000,060 bond is sue of the State, county arid town could obtain a road costing $4000 a mile at an increase in their annual tax levy of $”00, which under the present system of payment would call for the expenditure of $4000 in cash, or under tiie bond issue^they could ob tain a road costing $8000 a irfilc for an increase in their tax levies of $400 in place of raising $8000 in cash, as pro vided by the present method. “Under the bond issue each town and county is free to select as expensive a road or as cheap a road as the local conditions require.”—Tribune !■ armer. Automobile That Burns AAood. The impossibility of securing the nec essary supplies of petroleum or gas oline make it obligatory upon the Bel gian Government, which recently de cided to establish an automobile ser vice in the Congo Free State to adopt steam as a motor power. Coal’could be secured in only limited quantities, and that near the seashore; wood was therefore the only logical fuel, as it could be found everywhere. - The wood-burning car weighs a ton and has a capacity of a tou, with a maximum speed of twelve .miles an hour. Sheet steel wheels with heavy pneumatic tires are used. Tfte flfteeu- 'torse-power engine is inclosed'in a bul let-proof bonnet, as these vesicles are to be used in transporting iroops to keep order in distant parts of-the State and are expected to be undir fire at times. The water-tank has dl capacity iiiffieifnt for a twenty-five ir^ie trip. Live Milliners-. 1 A lady who was cycling i'ear Bex- iiill felt something strike her head, and found that a sparrow, in its flight across the road, had impaled^ itself on her hatpin, which was protruding about two inches. The bird died from its injury.—London Chronicle. -■ ■ ■ -4» Geu> Teas. Gem teas are London’s latest craze. About six weeks ago Lord Crofton invited his friends to a “gem tea” at his house in Sloane street, and there l>*ve been lovely displays of old and new jewels at other houses.—The Gen- Mewoman. Why it Do;s Not Matter How Many Troubles You Have in Life. A young Englishman once failed tc pass the medical examination oc which he thought his future depend ed. "Never mind," he said to himself “What is the next thing to be done?" and he found that policy of "never minding” and going on to the next thing, the most important of all poli cies for practical life. When he had become one of the greatest scientists of the age. Huxley looked back upon his early defeat and wrote: “It does net matter how many tum bles you have in life, so long as you do not get dirty when you tumble. It is only the people who have to stop and be washed who must lose the race.” Twenty years ago Lindon Bates, of Chicago, was compelled, through lack of funds, to discontinue his course at the Sheffield Scientific School and be gin work for a railread. Some years later he secured the contract for building two miles of the Chicago drainage canal, and invented for use there a dredping-machine, which at tracted Immediate attention. Today the Volgar River is being dredged by the machines, a. dozen rivers and ports in Australia and Tasmania, the ’ifficuit harb-r of C ileum and anoth°r at Antwerp. The International Con gress of Navigation recently awarded hlrn a gold medal; and noon hydrau lic enginering in navigation he i? ranked as the highest living author ity. To assert that present defeat is not. incompatible with future success is merely to repeat one of those funda mental tru’hs which, like submerged piers, supports the bridge of life. The stone which turns the brook into a wider channel is not an obstruc tion. Defeat is as different from fail ure as the two points in the adven ture of the diver: One when, a beg gar, he prepares to plunge; one when, a prince, he rises with his pearl. Th The -in—VrVrr peace ha thousand Personal Argument. Squire Underwood, who —ere—yue^.i r-c—rr4—T-ih-er- The Pay cf College Athletes. The most difficult questions that now assail the management of the American colleges are how to pay tne professors larger salaries and how to make the athletes work for nothing, the latter question Is the harder of the two. Mr. Carnegie has helped with the problem of the professors’ pay, and several of the older universi ties are raising big funds to the same end; but to keep the athletes from drawing salaries is a more complicat ed matter. It is accepted in all the colleges that players and contestants in intercollegiate games must be amateurs; players, that is, who do not play, and have never played, for hire. Just as the Elkins law drives the railroad lawyers to the concoct ing of devices whereby unlawful re bates may lawfully be paid, and drives freight-agents to dark trans actions and unrevealed bargains, so the acceptances of the law of ama teurs seems to drive the college law yers and the team managers to de vices by which useful amateurs may lawfully be hired, or may be paid surreptitious wages without its com ing to public knowledge.—Harper's Weekly. administered the oath to of witnesses, was sum- mcrnert'js+msrnlt to appear as a witness In a case before a circuit judge. When he was requested to stand up and be sworn, he lifted his hand and s'Ud, “I prefer to affirm, if you please.” The affirmation was administered to him, and he gave his testimony. After he had left the courtroom an old friend of his, a doctor, took him to task. "Squire,” he said, “you give the oath to lots of people. Why don’t you take it yourself?” “Doctor,” he answered, “you fre quently prescribe ipacac to patients, don’t you?” “Yes.” “Do you ever take it yourself?” “N-n".” said the doctor.—Youth’s Companion. Following Instructions. “Children,” said the teacher, in structing the class in composition, ••you should not attempt any flights of fancy; simply be yourselves and write what is in you. Do not imi tate any other person’s writings or draw inspiration from outside sources.” As a result of this advice Tommy Wise turned out the following com position: “We should not attempt any flights of fancy, but write what is in us. In me there is my stum- mick, lungs, hart, liver, two apples, one piece of pie, one stick of lemon candy, and my dinner."—Tit-Bits. West Virginia's Great Tree. The largest tree in West Virginia, the big elm on the Hood farm near Shinnston, is to he cut down imme diately because it s’ands in the right of way of the Fairmount and Clarks burg Traction Company's proposed car line. This old tree was made famous by a novel, “The Daughters of the Elm,” one of the principal characters of the book having lived almost in its‘shadow. The elm Is eleven feet across and will be used for crcssties for the railway,—Cincin nati Enquirer. NOT SO PRESUMPTUOUS AS THAT. “What are you doing with that sheet of paper Orville?’’ sharply ask ed his wife. “I an: making a wish,” answered Mr. Meekun. “A wish?” “Yes, my dear. In your presence 1 shall not presume to call it a will.” —Chicago Tribune. STOP, WOMAN! With an Old Knickerbocker Ring. A charming bit of sentiment has fixed the wedding day of one of the most interesting girls in New York society and a scion of one of the most distinguished Knickerbocker families. December 14 has been selected as the date of the wedding of Miss Dorothy Manson and Kiliaen Van Rensselaer. On December 14, 1627, the first of the patroons, Kiliaen Van Rensselaer, was married to Miss Anna Van Weyler. It was that same Kiliaen Van Rens selaer, the Amsterdam diamond mer chant, who bought from the Indians Ronsselaerwick. It was the largest private estate owned by one man in the New World, and comprised the present counties of Albany, Rensse laer and Columbia. Kiliaen Van Ren sselaer, Jr., is a direct descendant of the first patroon. To him has been handed down the ring the first Kiliaen Van Rensselaer pinned upon the hand of Anna Van Weyler, and that same ring will lie used at the ceremony next December. It is perhaps the most valued heirloom possessed by any member of the Van Rensselaer family.—New York World. FITSpermaiioutly cured. No tits ornervous- ness after first day’s use of L>r. Kline’s Groat NerveItestorer.titriat boltloand treatise free Dr.lf. tl. Kline, Ltd.,031 Arch St., Phiia., Pa. Japan's rice crop for the year of 1904 \vu. 263,692,355 bushels. Mrs.Winslow's So >thing Syrup for Children teething,soften th j gums,reduces inflamma tion,allays pain,cures wind colic, 25c.a bottle Plans to build electric street car lines in Pekin aroused nrotest. AND CONSIDER THE ALL- IMPORTANT FACT 7 ll That in address ing Mrs. Pink- ham you are eon- fidingyour private ills to a woman— a woman whose experi ence with women’s diseases covers a great many years. You can talk freely to a woman when it is revolting to relate your private trou bles to a man— besides a man does not under stand—simply be cause he is a tt’.an M a n y women suffer in silence and drift along from bad to worse, knowing full well that they ought to have immediate assist ance, but a natural modesty impels them to shrink from exposing them selves to the questions and probably examinations of even their family physician. It is unnecessary. Without money or price you can consult a wo man whose knowledge from actual ex perience is great. Mrs Plnkham’s Standing Invitation. Women suffering from any form of female weakness are i nvited to promptly communicate with Mrs. Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass. All letters are received, opened, read and answered by women only. A woman can freely talk of her private illness to a woman; thus has been established tiie eternal confidence between Mrs. Pinkham and the women of America which has never been broken. Out of the vast volume of experience which she has to draw from, it is more than possible that she has gained the very knowledge that will help your case. She asks nothing in return except your good-will, and her advice has relieved thousands. Surely any woman, rich or poor, is very foolisL if she does not take advantage of this generous offer of assistance. If you are ill. don't hesitate to get a bottle of Lydia E. Pinkham’sVegetable Compound at once, and write Mrs. Pink ham, Lynn. Mass., for special advice. When a medicine has been successful in restoring to health so many women, you cannot well say, without trying it, ” I do not believe it will help me.” Dyspepsia, SICK HEADACHE, CONSTIPATION Promptly ami Permanently Cured with Crab Orchard Water A century’s experience with successful results is tiie best testimonial. Sold by all druggists. Crab Orchard Water Co., LOUISVILLE, KY. Avery & Company SUCCESSORS TO AVERY & McMILLAN, 51-53 South Forsyth St., Atlanta, Gft. —ALL KINDS OK— MACHINERY FOR i 'a/a To better advertise the South’* Lending Business College, four scholarships are of fered young persons of this countyat less than cost. WRITE TODAY. GA-ALA, BUSINESS COLLEGE. Macon. Ga 55 Reliable Frick Engines. Boilers, all Sizes. Wheat Separators, ' BEST IMPROVED SAW MILL ON EARTH. Large Engines and Boilers supplied promptly. Shingle Mills, Corn Mills, Circular Saws,Saw Teeth,Patent Dogs, Steam Governors. Full line Engines & Mill Supplies. Send for free Catalogue. (Af35 05) 'fm -3*^ -sac -tm -HSL -SL -fyK EC I Zh. I O U S BIX^IOUS E£ I E-. TO 13 THE OKEAf SPECIFIC FOR BILI0J3NES 3, MALA RIA. CHILLS AND FE 7E--t3 Made in Regular and Tasteless Forms. For sale j)/ all Druggists. Manufactured by PAT TO N-WOR3HAIV1 DHUC Cii., Price 50 Cents. Dallas, Tex. and Memphis, Tens. OXIDINE Insuring a Chimpanzee. Some years ager, says a writer in Leslie’s Monthly Magazine, Frank Ttncitnok, the showman, had -chim panzee that ’seciuch wen nigh hu man. It wore clothes, it brushed its hair, it carried a walking stick, and | it ate its meals with knife and fork, i Bostock paid a comparatively small sum for it. when it was fresh from j the jungle, hut just before it died he 1 carried $50,000 insurance upon its life. And even had you offered him $50,000 cash for it, you could not have bought it. It -was the star at traction at his exhibition, and thou sands crowded about its platform, day after day. for months. One advantage of growing- that remembered b} one Uu not have to be made again when a new/ chance to go wrong is offered. WET WEATHER. WISDOM! THE ORIGINAL ,32 v I am sure Piso's Cure for Consumption saved my iifetlireo years ago.—Mrs. Thomas Ron- kkts. Maple St.. Xorwieli, N.Y., Feb. 17,1900 Priceless nit treasurer were destroyed by tire at the Castle of Lielitenwalde. Avoid Yellow t'ever, t’se tiie great antiseptic preventative, 8loan’s Liniment. Six drops of Sloan’s Liniment on a tea spoonful of sugar will kill yellow fever and malaria germs. Whistler is said to have had a hundred sittines for one portrait. Is It Right 7 Is it right for you to lose $4.20 that a dealer may make 50 cents more by selling fourteen gallons of ready-for-use paint, at .*1.50 ner gallon, than our agent will make by selling you eight gallons of L. & M , and .*ix gallons of linseed oil, which make four teen gallons of a better paint, at $1.20 per gallon? Is it right? Sold everywliere and by Longman & Martinez, New York. Paint Ms leers for Fiftv Years. SENATOR SULLIVAN Soy* He Has Found I>oan’* Kidney Pills Invaluable In Treating Sink Kidneys. Hou. Timothy D. Sullivan, of New York, Member of Congress from the Eighth New York District and one of tiie Democratic leaders of New | York S t a t e, j strongly recoin- j mends Doan’s Kidney Pills. Senator Sulli- F: van writes: i It is a pleas- 1 tire to endorse a remedy like Doan’s Kidney | Pills, having ; found them of tiie greatest value in i eliminating tiie distress caused by sick | kidneys, and in restoring those organs ; to a condition of health. My experi ence with your valuable remedy was equally as gratifying as that ot several ; of my friends. Yours truly, (Signed) TIMOTHY D. SULLIVAN. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sal<‘ by all druggists. Price, 50 cents per box. Journalism. There was recently a big fire in a small town in Devonshire, and a jour nalist pushed his way through the crowd to the cordon of police sur- , rounding the burning building. "Where are you going?” demanded a constable. “I'm a reporter: I want to get some particulars about tiie fire,” was the , reply. re, get out of this,” said the the newspaper J SLlCKm \ K- SLACK OR YELLOW ' WILL KEEP YOU DRY NOTHING ELSE Will TAKE NO SUD5TITUTW catalogucs rnce SHOWING FULL LINE OF GARMENTS AND HATS A. J. TOWER CO., EOSTON. MASS.. U.S.A. 1 OWED CAN AO I AN CO., LTD., TORONTO. CANADA. '‘H»Ttng talreo your wonderful “CntrAreU” fot Ihreo month* nrd liciuc er.tiroiy curd of stomach catarrh and dysynpsia, I thinls a word of praise la duo to“Clascal<stv’for theirwonde.ful composition. 1 have taken numcioue other so-called remedie* but without avail and I find that Cagerirts rcilev* more In a day than all the others 1 have taken Would In a year.” James McGune, 109 Mercer £t., Jersey City, N. J* ftesl for 1 t*. rf-s The Bowels wmwmo. CANDY CATHARTIC Pleasant, Palatable, Potent Xante Good, Do Good, Never Sicken, Weaken or 10c, 23c, 50c. N'evef sold in bnlk. The cenuine tablet stamped C C 0. Suar-iutcod to cure or your money buck. Steiling Remedy Co., Chicago or N.Y. 59* ANNUAL SALE, KILU38 BOXES “Here, get o 0* >ri3t able, pus] IT. an back into r r •ad all about rr nrr< iw.”—The FOR WOW1EM _ troubled with ills peculiar to '''x*_ _ their sex, used as a douche ft rrarvelously suc cessful. Thoroughly clraa v t. kills disease germs, stops discharges, heels safUrnmat: ,a and local soreness, cures leucortacea r.nd nasal catarrh. Paxtine is in powder form lo be dissolved in puro water, and is far more clctmlng, hca!.i.g,jgurmicuiat and economical than li jihd antiseptics for au TOILET AND WOMEN'S SPECIAL USES For sale a: druygistc, 50 rents a box. Trial Box and Book cf Instructions Free. Thi R. Paxton Company Doston, Ma«®. Tiie State Charities Aid Association re ports that insanity has largely increased in New York. SALT RHEUM ON HANDS STILL ANOTHER SYSTEM. Automobilist (recovering from in jury)—Isn’t that a pretty stiff bill, doctor ? Surgeon—You don’t suppose I’m go ing to let the repair men do al! the getting rich out of this business, do you?—Chicago Tribune. THE REAL DIFFICULTY. Fluahy—-It must take remarkable skill to raise a check. Hardup—Oh, I don’t know! It’s hoar to get hold of It in the first place t'ftat l can t see through.—Detroit t?ee Press. SufTereil Agony ami Had to Wear llaiKlage* All the Tl 1110—Another Cure by Cutlcura. Another cure by Cuticura is told of by Mr.-. Caroline Cable, of Waupoca, YVi*., in 1 iie following gratf ial letter: “My husband suffered agony with sait rheum on his hand.*, and i had to keep them bandaged aii the time. We tried everything we coiild get. hut nothing helped him until he ;ued Cuticura. One set of Cuticura Soap, Ointment and I’ilis cured him entirely, and his hands have been as smooth as pos sible ever since. I hope this letter will be tiie means of helping other sufferers.” Great Britian’s government" has de eided to secure and protect for the nation the ancient ramparts erected by Edward I around the town of L»er- wic-k-on-Tweed. !H0ZLE¥’$ LEMON ELIXIR. Is not a new and untried remedy. More than ,'b of a Century attests its wonderful curative and health- jrjving properties, and serves to show that it lias no eo'ial as a cure for Constipation, li-’iousness. Indi gestion. Sick-Head-.che, and all other ills arising from a TORPID UVER. neir.g strictly a vegetable com pound, it has no harmful or even unpleasant effects. Its action ts gentle hut none the less thorough- cleansing the stomach and bowels of all impurities, and toning up the entire system to a healthy con dition-leaving the person feeling good, because every organ is ma e to perform its part perfectly. 50C. AND $1.00 A BOTTLE. AU 0B«C STORES. “One Dose Convinces.” Dropsy CURED Gives Gucgk heirjf. Removes nil swelling in 8 to 20 rv aeivcni I Write Dr. H. H. Green’s Sons. (Specialists, Box b Atlanta, Qa. | n *|-r r* n Addre** of fll persons of A NT t D ” i^ihv :n Mh^ny WibJ s si v&ar vc. sn&isa denbd pension 011 ■•'•count * r F I5 marriage, til of men who -erved in thefed- -rsl •rtny, or (6) 'h* n<-iiri--. kin ot such ■Mildlvr* or sail' rs. n- w flr-< -a**o. NATHAN BICKIOltn. Attorney, %V'u.«ibSntfton* »>• A • . m*. ALL SEWING MA« (CfitNEv Standard Goods 1 Only. Free v a.t«Jc4ue to ! Dealers. BLELOOK I MFQ. CO.. 913 LocsmE 1 St., ST. LOUIS, MO. NEEDLES, SHUTTLES, REPAIRS. , D uukis WhEr£ Alt Its- fAiiS. 1 Best Cough Syrup. Tastes (L od. Uee I In time. Sold by dnigglata. CONSUMPTION IS cure, or money refunded by your merchant^ so why not try It? Price 90c. .■mm