The Bamberg herald. (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, October 01, 1903, Image 4
. -'
' I 1 ?
the Real Thing.
Virginia Rosamond Josephine, our
colored mail from the far south, .3
the proud possessor of a rhinestone
belt buckle which Ler mistress brought
her home from Paris not long since.
Teddy askedrher the other day?
'Are they real diamonds, 'Ginny?"
"No, inde. T*n she replied, with a
toss of her woolly pompadour. "Dey's
real grindstones. Missy fetched 'em
to me from Paradise!"?October Lippincott's.
; '
~ v They Quit Even.
A red-headed man met a bald-headed
man on ?he street one day* The redheaded.
man said to the bald-headed
man: * *
<4UnK V* rv*?/N AM f ho VQ hOOTl
iiuir luui C uvii i iccui lu uu? v
much hair where you came from."
*"0h, yes," replied >he bald-headed
man, "UMre^ks-pplenty of hair,~but it
was alEfed, and I wouldn't have it"?
Octobe^ Lippincott's Magazine.
S ^Typhfti(lJ?ever.
Tlie &erag;e mortality from typhoid
fever i^tkree times as great in American
as to Bwropean cities. The cities
in the S^.tes which suffer most
from tlyuTSea'se are "Washington, Chicago,
I&ston, Philadelphia and Providence.
in that order.
I?M$R*r?Td. SIOO.
Tlie reitlera m. thifc paper wiLTbe pleased to
.'earn thai there is at least one dreaded disease
thaocience has been able to cure in all
itsstageBand that is Catarrh. Hail's Catarrh
Cure is tfe only positive^emwnow known to
1 he mediffcl fraternity. Catarrh being a constitutional
disease, requires a constitutional
treatment Hall's Catarrh. Cure is taken internally,
ao^ng directly upon the blood and mucous
surfcpes of the system, thereby destroying
the fijpndafiaa of the disease, :md giving
tht> patient strength by building up the consdruMoo;
fuid assisting nature in doing it3
work. Ib? prej3sistax& have so much faithin
its urative powers that they offer Ono Hunr
tired Pofcglbfaay case that it fails to cure,
fcend forest of testimonials. Address
1 F. J. Cheney <k Co., Toledo, 0.
Sold by 1)ruggists, 73c.
Hall's ymiyPills are the best. j
? Mining in Mexico.
Mexicjis rajiMfr becoming the great
est of Aiing countries. One hundred
;;v ar.d sidfr-four new mines were regis.
tered iifiiie month recently. Of these
. nineteei were gold, forty-eight gold
;.l\ and siii r,1 while only forty-eight produced
r p&ctovts metal.
Ip'. Cough
"I are made a most thorough
1 trial c A.yer's Cherry Pectoral and
8 am pi >arcd to say that for alldis.
- ? eases I the lungs it never dis&pI
^ . Early Finley, fronton, O.
I wonY^re rhe^'raatism; |
I we never said it would. 8
I It won't cure dyspepsia; 1
8 we never claimed it. But I
9 it will dtife couphs and 1
I colds ot all kinds. We 8 J
first ^afld this sixty years I
ago; we've been saying it I
I ever since. p
Tlircc sites; 15c., 5gc., SI. Ail drains. ?
^ Consult your doctor. If be says take It. 9
a then do as he says; If he tells yon not B
a to take it, then dost take it. He knows. ?
MBM
Wttlie-^-Let's play we are marrieJ.
Little Bessie?Have you ever play *1
it with amother-gJtl'T t - * Willie?f
J Yl V V (
Little Bessie?Then you can't practice
on me.?October Smart Set.
FREE STUAk'rs
fAMMUNITIONi
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It is made in the largest and best B
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H This accounts for the uniformity of n
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1vra caMI4C^tMl*TMIII^CM
The Watkins"Bcy"Hay Press
THE HARVEL OF THE COUNTRY.
Two boys can operate it (no other power needed)
and bale the crop right in the field at less
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of other things and costs only 825. Write
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E, E. LOWE CO., Atlanta, Georgia.
?^-GOOD .AGENTS WANTED.
*o*o*c|^oitpi*oito*o*oito*o*o
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! jii
JWILDA^
^ By MRS. EDW
^Oi4. ILDA was a country school-1
rfwk inarm, teaching her first
! o \A/ ? school ten miles from
?{ ft home. She taught five (lays
one week and six the next,
and at the end of every fortnight it
was her father's custom either to come
for her himself or send some one to
bring her home for over Sunday.
On one particular Friday night the
r.ncie wnom ner lamer nau ucieguieu
to go for her failed to put in an appearance,
and Wilda, after vainly watching
until after 10 o'clock for some one to
come, decided to get up early in the
morning and start for home ou foot,
with a possible hope that she might
either meet her father, or catch a .ride
with some one else, at least for part of
the way home.
The reason why she was so deter-,
mined to reach home before Saturday
night was to keep an engagement with
a certain young man by the name of
Walter Mather, whom she had prom- J
ised to marry. In point of fact, there
had been considerable difficulty connected
with her engagement to this
young man. In the first place she was
an independent little woman, and
wanted to test her own powers at earning
a living. In the second, she wasn't
just sure whether she cared enough
for Walter to marry him, and in the
third he had met with an unconscious
rival in the person of one Theodore
Graham, Wilda's father's hired man,
trhn hv tho -nrnv r?r?:ild not he called
such, according to the common acceptation
of the term. Ou the contrary he
claimed to be a broken-down athlete
from a neighboring university who had
begged the privilege of working for her
father for the purpose of recuperating j
his wasted strength.
Wilda had felt no little trepidation in
regard to her engagement with Walter
Mather. Her father h.'ul cautioned her
repeatedly about the consequences of
making an unwise choice, and some of
her numerous friends had felt it their
duty to tell her in plain English that ha
wasn't half good enough for her; that
he possessed some traits of character
that would surely bring her to grief.
However, Walter's father was a very
wealthy farmer, which counted for
considerable in those days, but that
didn't amount to much in WiIda's estimation,
for her own father had enough
and to spare, and there was no need of
her teaching school had she not wanted
to. The main proposition with lier was
whether in her uncertain state of minu
she was justified in marrying him at
all.
Theodore Graham had on several occasions
tried to' make advances to
Wilda, which, under the circumstances, ,
she was wise enough not to encourage, ,
and wise enough to keep to herself.
His menial position would not warrant
him in advaucing very far, albeit.
Wililn rli/1 nftt ilniiht lii? n en].
?? AlUtt VHU A*Vli UVUMV VV.mq ?? X"lege-bred
man, judging from his habits
and knowledge of books. But she knew
nothing pf his life and character, excepting
what she observed for herself,
and as far as he was concerned he had i
his own reasons for not letting her or i
anybody else know that he was a eity- ;
bred man, too, and that at his mother's death
he would come into the posses- <
sion of at least half a million.
Wilda's father, with an eye simply to
the best interests of his motherless and
only child, had never delegated his
hired man to go and bring his daughter i
home from her school, but somehow j
Theodore always managed to be at the
gate to assist her to alight. TVIlda un- ]
derstood his maneuvers, but her father <
took it as*n act of courtesy which was ]
admply her due. * i $ ]
At the first peep of day "NVilda was ]
up and dressed and ready to start for i
home. Mrs. Thompson, the lady with <
whom she was boarding that week, j
said to her: ' ' '
"You shall not go one step until you 1
have had a <rood heartv breakfast."
"It is too early for a good hearty '
breakfast Mrs. Thompson," said Wilda.
"I can't eat if you get it."
"Now you just go out and walk 1
around the house and down to the
spring and back, and drink in some of
this morning air, and then see if you
won't eat some of it."
So Wilda did as she was bidden, and 1
to her surprise she did eat her break- 1
fast with a relish. 1
Mrs. Thompson smiled with approval
all the time she was eating, then, when
she had finished, she saw her through
the gate which opened into the lapc,
and watched her until she entered the
public highway.
Wilda waved her hand good-by. then 1
she said to herself?
"I hope I shan't meet any one com- j
ing for me, for at least a mile any way, '
for I do love to take long walks in the
cool of the morning and hear the birds
sing."
Along the road she. trudged, her
young heart as light and happy as the
birds she watched and listened to,
thinking of Walter, how happy and
pleased he would be to know of the effort
she was making to keep her fortnightly
appointment with him.
"If he only knew," she said to herself,
"he would gladly have come for
me nimseu; dui men ue uoesn t, so
there's no use in my bothering my head
About that Besides, father wouldn't
^e pleased if Walter came for me, as
he considers that a particular privilege
of his own, from which he derives
much pleasure. Poor father! He'll
miss me when I'm gone. But this
walk! It's going to be a long one; and
I don't believe I'd run the risk of
Walking the whole way for another
man living."
Wilda, in her reflections, was trying :
to reconcile herself to her act, and acquire
the proper respect for and confidence
in her lover, but after that
last assertion the honest, sunburned
face of Theodore Graham rose before
her and refused to be put down.
"I don't know why," she said to her- <
self, "he alwaj's persists in coming up i
just at the time when he is least ex- i
pected."
On and on she walked. The sun ;
climbed higher and higher, and finally,
somewhat heated and weary, she came <
to the village of Haven, where she sat :
down on one of the rustic seats in the park.
She sat there for some time,
with a feeling in her feet that she ]
would like to take off her shoes and i
stockings, and paddle around on the :
cool, green grass. But she could not
remain long, so she soon resumed her <
journey, and when she turned the' 1
street corner towards home, the eastern 1
sun blazed full into her face. For the
first time she realized the day was go- ]
ing to be excessively warm. She had <
not covered more than a quarter of the i
svay, and her shoes, which were new, 1
CHOICKl,
ARDS PAIXE. J
ITT
were already beginning to pincb, and
her satchel increase in weight.
"If I only had my parasol." she
thought; "hut I was thoughtless
enough to leave that at home."
i She saw a team coming rapidly to|
ward her, and thought possibly it
! might be her father, but it proved to be
a stranger with a man and a trunk,
hastening toward Haven, probably to
catch the morning train.
Disappointed and discouraged, she
sat down by the roadside to rest. Under
the shadow of a great elm she
watched and waited for some one to
.come by and ask her to ride; but, as
no one came, sne piucsca up cuurage,
in spite of the burning sensation in her
feet, and started (jm,;
She judged she had walked about five
miles, and then she began to reflect
again. Jy-'-,
"I wonder," shera'sked herself, "if I'm
not folish for und^'taking such a walk
as this? Supposiiig-I didn't keep my
engagement with Walter, what difference
would it make? I'm not sure
that he'd care, and I don t believe he'd
go to all this trouble for me. Besides,,
what view will he take of it? Will he
think Tm crazy to be with him, or see
tiie principle involved in it? Well!"
she exclaimed, after a few moments
more of reflections, "I've never broken
my word to anybody yet, and I'm not
going to begin with him. I told him
I would surely be home to-night, and
I'm going to keep my word. Ob," she
continued, "these feet will be the death
of me," when she lwjard a rumble of
wheels approaching her from behind.
She looked around, and to her delight
she recognized Mr. Clinc, an old friend
of her father's.
"Why, Wilda Wright!" lie exclaimed,
reining in his horse. "What in the
name of sense are you doing here this
hot day?'? i ' -' : >
"Father didn't come after me last
night, so I thought I'd walk."
"Walk, child! Why, you must be
crazy. Wliy, it's twelve miles, if it's
an inch." , , . i
"Ten, father calls it," replied Wilda.
"Yes, by taking some cross-cuts. But
what's the stress 'bout your getting
home? Homesick, eh?" he asked, peering
under lier straw hat.
"Xo, not exactly that," said Wilda.
prerarieating a little, "But it's been
two week's since I've been there."
"Well, you're a plucky girl, to say
the least: and if I wasn't in such a
confounded hurry to get back with this
cutter-bar, I'd take you clear home.
But you see,", he ?d3ed apologetically,
"the men 'can't gd on with the haying
until I get there."
"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Clinc. I
don't mind it. .1 can just as well walk
as not."- said Wilda, bravely, at the
same time secretly vrincing at the pain
that was getting more intense in her
feet.
"But you won't get home for dinner,"
he said solicitously.
"Oh, yes I shall," replied Wilda. "I'll
be home long before that."
"It will be a little out of your way,
jut get in and ride as far as my house,"
he said, reflectively, anl then drove
rordrtfT into the south fork of the road.
"From there you can go cross lots and
In-the end yen will save time."
"Yes," said Wilda, thinking t&e while
that their way led right by Walter
Mather's house. - : - "Perhaps
I'll she Walter," she
thought,, "and he'll recognize the effort
it is'costing me to keep my promise."
Long before they came in sight of the
house, she plainly discerned the maple !
arrove which sheltered the white farm
house. When they neared the place
her eyes searched eagerly under the ,
low-hanging branches for a familiar
form. At last she discerned two people
swinging leisurely in a hammock, one
x girl of her acquaintance, the other,
Walter Mather, with" his arm around
her waist
For a moment Wilda's. heart beat
wildly, then it seemed to stand still.
He teeth closed like a vise; and could
she hare opened them to speak her |
tongue would have-hissed out "traitor." <
Suddenly Walter caught the souud of
wheels, and looking up recognized her, ,
withdrew his arm, and bowed.
Me, Cline had caught the drift of ^
tilings, too. and, giving his horses a ,
dip with the whip, in the midst of a <
jloufl of dust they aseended the hill. ]
"Who was t&at youfe woman with i
Walter Mather?" he asked, as soon as ,
they were well over. '
"Miss- Wood," said Wilda, savagely. ,
"The bold minx!" he ejaculated, to ,
which Wilda dare not trust herself to ,
reply.
Soon now they were at Mr. Cline's ]
gate, when Wilda, unassisted, clnm:
bered out of the wagon, and after
thanking him for her ride, started
down the road toward home. (
"Take it cross lots, Wilda," Mr. Cline j
called after her.
"All right, Mr. Cline. Excuse me, I ,
forgot," she called back. ,
Then she turned in toward the high
rail fence, climbed over it, and when ,
she was well into the field beyond, in ]
sheer desperation she sat down on the ,
ground with her back against an old 1
stamp and began to cry.
"Only to think," she burst out indig- ,
nantly. " of my going to all this trouble
for bim. The mean, deceitful wretch!" j
and the heavy heads of grass bent
low and answered "Yes." "Now I 1
know why I could never tell whether (
I loved him or not. He don't deserve 1
it," and the waving grass bent its <
heads still lower and whispered, "No,
he's deceiving you." "I'll never, never
speak to him again," she cried.
"I wouldn't if I were you," croaked
a blackbird as it lighted on the stump
above her head.
"I don't believe Theodore Graham
would be guilty of treating a girl like
that."
"Indeed he wouldn't," again croaked
the blackbird, flying away.
"And I've been as mean to him as I
could be, and snubbed him every
chance I could get Oh, I wish I wasn't
such a fool!" And covering her face
with her hands she broke into an
angry flod of tears.
After she had cried to her heart's
content, she rose with difficulty to her
feet, and hobbled away through the
tall grass. Every step she took she almost
cried out with pain. She knew
her feet were swollen to bursting, but
she dare not take off her shoes for
fear she could not get them on again.
So she traveled on as best she could, s
crossing fields and climbing fences un- ]
til she'came out at the north fork of .
the road and was in sight of home. \
How cool the tall pines looked, sfihoutted
against the blue sky, and how
she longed to be in the shadow of their
thick branches; but between her and j
them was a great field of waving rye. 1
To attempt to cross it she knew would '
be like blazing a way through an un- J
broken forest but to accept the other i
alternative and add another mile to her j
journey by going around was simply j
out of the question.
The opposite side of this field lay
parallel to her father's orchard, where,
leaning on a gate-post, stood a tall,
athletic appearing young man, intently
watching a peculiar wave which
semeed to be slowly approaching him
through the rye.
Suddenly the tall spears of grain
parted, and, catching sight of a scarlet
face beneath a white straw hat, he ,
exclaimed: i
"Why, Wilda ?Miss Wright ?what
in the world does this mean?"
At the tone of eager sympathy in his
J voice, Wilda's lips quivered and she
began to cry.
Impulsively Theodore grasped her by
the hand and led her through the open
gate into the orchard and sat her down
in the shade of an apple tree.
With a feeling of disgust at herself
for exposing her weakness, Wilda
snatched oil her hat and threw it on
the ground. Theodore quickly took it
* * A? If o n/^
up ano^egan to inn uei >*nu x?. emu
after ^pe became more composed, he
asked:
"How far have you walked?*'
"Most of the way," was her curt
reply.
"Where did you miss your father?"
"Has he gone?" she asked, eagerly.
"Yes.-' He. started early this morning.
He didn't know your uncle had
not gone until it was too late to go last
night."
"I rode part way with Mr. Cline."
"That's how you came to miss him.
You took the south fork?"
"Yes, of course," snapped Wilda,
thinking of what she had seen under
the maple trees.
"But you should have either met him,
or he overtaken you, before that," persisted
Theodore,
"Perhaps I should, ,and he didn't,"
retorted Wilda, thinking of the time
she loitered away in the park at
Haven.
Theodore ventured no reply. He
saw plainly that in her state of mind
further questioning was not only useless
but cruel.
A big. ripe apple fell at Wilda's feet
She took it and began to eat ravenously.
After she had finished and thrown -.
the core away, Theorode ventured to
ask:: . ? ? ! $?
"WLy '-were^you go bqni on getting
home to-night, Wilda?"
"To keep ray appointment-with Wal- 1
tor Mather," she responded trahcsitat- "
ingly.
"tfo yon think It jvill pay?"
"It lias paid already," she replied
spitefully, at the same^ time wincing ;
at the sharp pain, tbat,darted througk
her foot. ?
Theodore was. sfertled at .fte'io& t2* \
agony that ca?$?into hi&Yaffclhftr =
was^ust gafcn^jifespefii; Interrupted
hffti tfy saying: ^
"Theodore, I am almost dea3' Vith
paiifcin my feet, but I want to tell
yon one thing, I'm through with Walter
Mather for all time. I tried to make
myself believe I loved hira; but I don't.
When he comes to-nlglit I shall not
ovetf.see him, and he will not need to
he told why. Now, take me to the
house, for my feet are murdering me,
and I am afraid I am going to faint."
Then she attempted to rise, but staggered
and fell fainting into Theodore
Graham's arms. When she came to he
was fanning her with all his might
and calling her by all the endearing
names of a lover's calendar. Wilda
opened her eyes and smiled, then he
lifted her in his arms and carried her
to the house and laid her on the bed.
That evening, just about sun-down,
Walter Mather came driviDg up with
a spanking bay team, and a new pianoboi
buggy; but Wilda was too indis
posed to see him, and apparently crestfallen
he drove away without even
asking why.
The next night by common consent
of Wlfaa and her father, Theodore took
her back to her school;-her swollen and'
blistered feet bandaged and encased in
her father's slippers; but it was her i
last as well as her first term ofischool, j
for that night she made her choice, and
a wise one it was, too.?Waverley
Magazine. <
5 * t '
EARLIEST USE OF FORKS.
They Were Not Common Art England Be. ,
for? the Year
/
It seems strange that the use of forks j
began only with our easily reiuemberefi
forefathers; that the Greeks tsfnd R<Jmails
did not know anything of them,
and that in the Far Eastern countries
their use is still unknown. Up to the
fifteenth century they were - known
only in Italy. Elizabeth had three
"forks" "garnished with gold sieightly,"
and with "lyttle perles pendant?'
but they were considered as curiosities
and never used. Indeed, in that era, .
says the Cooking Club, it was considered
bad form, and ministers contended
that to use them was an insult to
God. What were our fingers for? Id
Thomas Corvates' "Crudities," published
originally Vn 1G0S, is this:
"I observed a custom in all those
Italian cities aud towns through which
I passed that is not used iu any other
country that I saw ou my travels;
either do I think that any other nation
in Christendom doth use it, but
only in Italy. The Italian, and also j
most strangers, do always, at their j '
men is hrp n little forke when they cut j
their meats. For while with their
knife, which they hold in one hand,'
they cnt the meats out of the dish,
they fasten the forke. which they hold ,
in the other hand, upon the same dish;
so whatsoever he be that, sitting in ,
the company of others at meals, should <
Inadvisedly touch the dish of meats
with his fingers, from which all the
table do cut, he will give occasion of ,
offense to all the company, as haviug .
transgressed the laws of good manuers, .
in so much that for his error he shall
be at least browbeaten, if not reprehended
in wordes. This form of feed
ing, I understand, is generally used in j
ill places of Italy, 'their forkes being :
in the most part of iron, Steele and
some of silver; but these are nsed only
by gentlemen. The reason for- this .
curiosity is because the Italian cannot j
bv anv means endure to have his meat!
touched with fingers, seeing that all
men's fingers are not alike cleane."1
Not until the middle of the seventeenth
century did England's nobility'
begin the use of the fork, but they '
;ame into use slowly, and even in the
?arly part of the eighteenth century i
gentlemen who traveled carried a knife J
md fork, because the inns were not
likely, to have them. About 1S15 forks 1
became quite common in England, and 1
In Europe soon became to be considered
generally as a necessity. ' j 1
~ i
Vnlae of a Hen. ! It
is said that a profitable hen eats
sixteen times her weight in a year. '
3>r eggs are six times her own weigiit,
md worth six times the cost of her
.'ood. . !
At Middle Age.
middle age a man begins to enby
life; lie has forgotten his ideais.-j,
Life. . "
*- * -5*<? <, *- ~ V ^ if*?
/
JUST LIKE BOYS. ,
Being the Tale of Two Lads, art Aunt
and a Fighting Rooster.
In the days when a brown-stone
front was regarded' as the outer and
visible sign of "gentility," and when
life in New York was a simpler matter
than it is today, there Mved in one
of the orthodox mansions a certain
highly respectable maiden lady and
two nephews, cousins/-to whom she
was guardian.
A classmate and chum of the elder
boy had become the happy possessor
of a rooster, which the seller assured
him, had a "big gamy sucak in him."
Inflamed by this eulogy, both boys
were wild for a "match;" and not
having the means wherewith to purchase
an antagonist, they put their
heads together to compass the bor
rowing of one, and with the following
results:
The younger cousin, an unusually
polite and gentle little boy, was despatched
on the first holiday to the
grocery where the family dealt, ostensibly
to order a chicken for dinner.
"But," he said, poTnting to a coop
of live fowls, "my aunt wants to zeo
it before you kill it."
The grocer assented, and forthwith
drew from the coop what he considered
a desirable bird. But the boy
would have none of it. He had set
his heart on a rainbow-colored rooster
with enormous comb and taih
"Why," said the grocer, "that 13 the
very toughest old customer, in the
bunch."
"My aunt 1'kes them tough," said
the gentle little boy.
In a couple of hours the rooster
was borne back to the store?one eye
shut, his comb torn and bloody, and
but one feather cf his beautiful tail
left But he was crowing so triumphantly
that a small crowd followed
him. He had suffered, but the bird
with the "big gamy streak in him
was nowhere." .
"My aunt is much obliged to you,"
said the polite and gentle little boy
to the astonished grocer. "She can't
decide today, but she would' like,
to look at him again next Saturday/'
?Prom "In Lighter Vein" in the Century..
- - '* * ' :
. > ,
I fA
GERMAN CHICAGO
Remarkable Rapidity of the Growth
' ?$&*? writes Sydney Brooks, in
Martyr's Weekly, is the Chicago of.
Gerggmy in the rapidity of growth if
in nothing else. ( To one who has not
tlB'ted it for ten or twelve years the
Sice seems to have trebled and quadHfcled
itself. Very likely It"has; but
W&at most impresses one is not the
ejtent, but the quality, of its growth. {
ft is the only modern city I know of
that has managed to escape looking )
artificial. Most foreigners 'cWp^'n I
that New York looks as though, ft had
been hit off at a stroke and; dumped
down on Manhattan Island by eonr
tract. They inveigh against its deathly
uniformity, its Euclidian lines, its
prosaic precision. They say that it
has been far too obviously mapped
out by architects and surveyors instead
of by nature. None of these
charges could be brought against Berlin.
The city, or'lib^t of it, at any
rate, is as modern as New York, but
the labor of building it has
mo3t dexterously hidden. In Berlin,
the old days of piatn living and high
thinking seem well-nigh over. There
may be plenty of high thinking done
the capital, but It certainly is no
longer a city of conspicuously plain
living. The rents are such as open
even a New Yorker's eyes, household
expenses are* proportionately severe,
and the clubs, the theatres, the
stores, and above all, the hotels and
resi'duruuib, punu iu a unwuuii mc*?, i
dees not lead by any means to economy.!
There are hotels today in Berlin
that rival and in sonje points even
excel* the Waldorf-Astoria anil the
Carlton. -v -? .
i * ? ?????? _
Do We AM Die Young?
The. fact is, says Professor Metchnikofl-in
hi3 "Studies in Human Nature,"
that only one man in a million
tt present dies a natural death. . We
^iould live till one hundred and forty
years of age. A man who expires
at seventy or eighty is.the victim of
acckTent, cut off in the flower of his
days, and he unconsciously resent3
being deprived of the fifty years or
so; which nature owes him. Leave
him a little longer, and in due time
he will desire to die- as a child at
dusk desires to sleep. The sandman i
will pass!
All our instincts drop from us one
by one. The child cries for mother's
milk. The idea of such an ailment is
repugnant to the adult. The desires
for sweets, for play, for love and love
making, for long walks and adventures,
are all Impulses that have their
day and pass, and the wish to live is
an Instinct which falls also with satiety.
Only at present none of us
live long enough to be satiate with
days.
???????? c j
* *
The Idea of Culture. - {.j
The Idoa of culture has always in- j
eluded a quick and wide sympathy ?
with men; it should' hereafter include
sympathy with nature, and par- <
ticularly with its living forms?a sympathy
based on some accurate observation
of nature. The bookworm, the
monk, the isolated student, has never
been the type of the cultivated man.
Society has seemed the natural setting:for
the cultivated person, man'
or woman; but the present conception
of real culture contains not only
a large development of this social element,
but also an animate creation
and to those immense forces., that
set the earthly stage for man and' I
all related beings.?President C. W1.
Eliot, in the World's Work.
?** > ? v
> rrr~A t f-.
WRONG DIRECTION.
1 Recently during a dense fog on
Long Island Sound a steamboat took
landing. - A traveler anxious to go
ahead came to the man at the wheel
and asked why they stopped.
"Too much fog; can't see the river."
"But you can see the stars overhead."
"Yes," replied the pilot, "but until
:he biler busts we ain't going that
w&y\" The passenger went to bed. I
?Philadelphia Ledger. {
? f . ?. a . t
-' ? ?
Alas!
"Will you let me kiss yo|?"
They sat side by side in the gloaming,
qiiite close to each other, yet not
so close but that it might have been
possible to be closer. The sun had j
gone down behind the western hii's,
and the faint shadow of twilight was
beginning to suggest itself in the recesses
of the hills.
He was patient. He said to himself,
he would wait.
She old not answer, but looked out
into the. clear sky - and the fleecy
clouds as they sailed along the horizon.
Of what was she thinking, he
wondered, as-he sat there. Was it of
love and pas-sionaite longings, and desires
fully met? But never mind what
it was, ne would not hurry her. He
would wait.
The distant call of the owl was
heard, and along the lane fa the distance
came a procession of cows, home
from the pasture.
For a long time they sat thus, in
deep silence, until she turned her eyes
to his, wondering, questioning.
"Well?" he asked at last. Will you?"
And she gathered herself up and prepared
to leave.
"It is too late?now]" she said. ?
October Smart Set.
Tourists i Past arid Present.
"Traveling, like novel-writing, is but
a modern forrp 'of activity," says Agnes
Repplier in the October Lippincott's;
"and tourists, like novelists,
are increasing at so fearful a rate of
speed that foreign countries and library
she*' es bid fair to be equally
overrun, 'there was a time when good
men looked as"kance both upon the
page of fable, and upon those far countries
where Feality.was stranger than
romance. 'I was o*ce in Italy myself,'
confesses the pious Roger Ascham;
'but thank God my abode there was
but nine days. Nine days seem a scant
allowance for Italy, Even the.business-like
traveler who now scampers
'more Americano' over Europe is Wont
to deal more generously with this-, its
fairest land. But in Roger Ascham's
time nine days Wou.d hardly have
permitted a glimpse a,t tthe wonders
from which he so swiftly aitti .fearfully
withdrew." .
The Kongo Free State has an area
of SQO/OOO square miles, and a population
of between< 20,000,000 and 30,
ooo;ooo. ' ' & ;
' i ' >i!
' ; . U I . - ! t ji ...
, FITSoermancntJy cured. No fits or nervousness,
after first day's use of Dr. Kline's Groat
NcrveKe$rorer.$2trlal bottle andtreatisefrec
Dr.B.H.- Klise, Ltd., 93i ArchSt., Phlia.,P.t.
There are people who seem to take more
interest in . our affairs , than we do oarsely<^.
Mrs.Winslow's Soothing Syrup for children
teething, softenthe guns,reduces in da mm atioa,allays,pain,cures/yindcplig.25c?a
bottle
Self-preseiwa'tioil 'is the first law of nature,
and ittbst women try to look Well pre1
served. .
JamsurePiso's QUra for Consumption save 1
myiira three ye its ago.-^-UBs. tkomas uosllx*.Ttapie
St.,Ndrwich, JT.X, Feb. tf ;131h
f mil ii|' -i i f I , I ;
Some men. believe ia making lOihfers respect
tbem> even if they have to do it with
a club. ...:
Tfis* Jitter Color mikes top
of the market butter* > *"'
tw.:. I '* }
It's all right to have a l*ojby, if you kieep
it to yourself.
STRAIGHT t
Aching backs are eased.? Hip, back, i
and loin pains overcome.': Swelling of j
the limbs, rheumatism, and dropsy signs
vanish.
They correct, urine with brick-dust
, sediment, high colored, excessive, pain
<> in passing, dribbling, frequency. \ Doan's
Kidney PHls dissolve and remove calculi
and gravel. Relieve heart palpitation,
sleeplessness, headache, nervous.
Tell City, Isd ?I received the free
trial of Doan's Kidney PiHA They are
splendid. I had an awful pain in my
baek; on taking the pills the pain left
me right away and I feel like a new
man.? Stephen Schaefer. * ' Mrs.
Addie Andrews, R. ,F. IX No. 1.
Brodkead, Wis., writes: I received
the free trial of Doan's Kidney Pills with
much benefit. My little nephew was
suffering terribly with kidney trouble
from scarlet fever. Two doctors failed
to help him and he finally "tent into
spasms. I lis father gave him Doan's
Kidney Pills and from the second dose
lijREPEAT!!
\ No matter what your preferent
11 some one of the eight different
ft will suit you. Winchester Rif
? ble for shooting any game, fi
land in many styles and weig
ft. c#?Wt vau can ennnt nn its hi
Jl reliable in action and a strong,
JW |c FREE: Out 160-pc.qe
{WLgy WINCHESTER REPEATING AR
Good Pills
Oyer's Pills are good liver
Dills. You know that. The best
?amily laxative you can buy.
rhey keep the bowels regular,
:ure constipation.
Want your moustache or beard
a beautiful brown or rich black ? Use
BUCKINGHAM'S DYE
nm era, or ostwusrs oy g p. hall * co.. sabsc*. w. h.
~ i
NO MORE..
cu|ls in your hair
Carjater's OX MARROW POMADE
jr (BBWARE OFTXtTATIOW* )
Takes them out and keeps your scalpin splendfr
shape into the bargain. That's why you need
It. It^ highly perfumed, too.
? PRICE, 25 CENTS,
At the Drug Store, or mailed on receipt of 26
*y cents In stamps.
Addrsi, CARPENTER & CO.,
Louisville, Ky. J
i Jlney
refunded by your mei
,, r - *. _ ^ " ;
* - w;i- -
WORN OUT, Df
*
4
Are Most Women in Summer <,
?Pe-ru-na is a Tonic of 1
1 1
Efficiency. <
4
JLjj OSI^Hl sZ |
Brooklyn, N. Y., writes:
"Peruna is a fine medicine to take any ;
time of the year, but I have fonnd it especially
helpful to withstand the wear and
tear of the hot weather. I have taken it
now for two bummers, and feel- that it ha*
.;ept my system free from malaria, and
also kept me froor having that worn-out,
dragged-out look which so many women
have. - . ' ei
"X therefore have no hesitancy in saying ai
that I think it is the finest tonic in the m
world/'?Josephine Morris. ii
Peruna is frequently used as a mitiga- w
tion of the effects of hot weather. What a n
bath is to the skin. Peruna is to the mu- ai
cous membranes. Bathing keeps the skin n
healthy* Peruna makes the mucous membranes
clean and healthy. With the skin fa
and mucdhs membranes in good Working w
order, hot weather can be withstood with ft
verf little suffering. . p.1
Frequent bathing with an occaibngl nse gi
of Pertind is sure id mitigatetil horrors
of hot weather. Many ladies have discov- H
i?iie United States is the greatest >
horse-producing couiitry in th#' world.
At. this tiine, therefore, when other 4
agencies are coming into competition A
with'horses for many purposes, and J
are being substituted for ? horses in w
many; others, it is'proper for us to "
consider what it'is wise tojXo in order- J
that there shall not be too serious ^Ipss- f
es in an industry as great as it Is
widespread and interesting. ;A. few
years ago the horses fn the United Q
States were valued at eleven hundred*
million dollars; Business depression
together with the competltiOfi and sub- I
dUlUllUUd i CICilCU C^V/*?vvyt. . ? stock
more than ohehalf. But there
has been ah appreciation withih d few
yearst otfing to 'business revival anJ
ensuirig prosperity) so that the value
of the horses in the country had risen
more thah two hundred million dollars
at the end of the last fiscal year, June,
1902, from what thq value wa* at The A
low-water mark referred to.?From n
John Gilmer Speed's "The'Horse >"n \
America" In the September Century,
0 THE SPO T *
the pain was less. He began to gain
and. is to-day a well boy, Ms life saved by 4
Doan's Kidney Pills. <
Ruddles Mills, Ky.?I received the
free trial of pills. They did tnc great j
good. I had bladder trouble, compelling
me to get up often during night Now
1 sleep well; no pain in neck of bladder
Sain in back is gone, also headache.'? 6
no. L. Hill.
iAUssail I
"
NAME- ?p.
O ??STATE
.... . .
For 4*0 trial box tiiril thia ebttjx* lb
Foster-MUbarn Co., Buffalo-. N. z. If above
space U insuflcient, write address on asp*
ratoattfr. ' medical
advice free. |
KSHSffii
<G RIFLES JpR '
/VU lit v Wfc/V ?? > -J jpM
Winchester models1^ 1 i
les are made in calibers stiita- Jj \
rom rabbits to grizzly bears,#
hts. Whichever model you#
sing well made and finished #
accurate shooter. ,
ttlasinctcd caUfoqm* . J|K(I jr
MS CO. NEW HAVEN, CONN-Mg|
RipnnsTabulesare I
the best dyspepsia ~
m ed Ici d e ever made. *
AM hundred millions j
flig^UlV of them have been
sold In the United
States In a single
year. Every illness tl
arising from a disordered stomach is *!
relieved or cured by their use. So n
common is it that diseases originate ?
from the stomach it may be safely as- t!
serted there is no condition of ill a
health thst will not be benefited or <3
cured by the occasional use of Ripans L
Tabules. Physicians know them and P
speak highly of them. All druggists ?
sell them. The five-cent package is ?
enough for an ordinary occasion, and gi
the Family Bottle, sixty cents, contains 0
a household supply for a year. One
generally gives relief within twenty _
minutes.
A
/jEBfry The Effervescent g
^AfDsrli GADflcer
ffisN H WAjQjM prevents headaches,
SfeiV biliousness, constipation.
At Droaalita, *Oe. aad #1,
Cac^hyAnlerirta TARBAJfT CO. ^
Physicians since ISM. 91 Jay Street, JTew Yerh
Dropsy H s
Removes all swelling in 8 to so th
days; effects a permanent core B.
in 30 to 60 days. Trial treatment
given free. Kothingcan be fairer
Write Or. H. H. Green's Sons,
Specialists, Box B Atlanta, fa. v.i
MHffil
rchant, so why not try lt?;
'..t" V-' ' V C..
-v ?' - * ' -v? r > -
IAGGED OUT,
Mrs. Tressie Nelson, *22 Broad St.; 2 Nashville,
Tenn., writes: ;;
"4s Parana has done me a;; *
ieorl I of good, I feel in duty*' "'-SK
iound to tell of it, in hopes that <;
It may meet the eye of some wo-'; ... $0S
nan who has suffered as 1 have* ';
"For five years I really did not! y
know what a perfeotly well day!:
was, and if 1 did not have head- j;
ache, 1 had backache or a pain J; s&->^
somewhere and really life was \;
not worth the effort 1 made to J;
keep going. . <>
"4 good friend advised me io|[ " L
use Peruna and I was gla41'
anything, and I am very 1pleased! >
to say that six bottles made a new <' y
woman of me and J have no merely- ^
pains and life look* bright j
again."?Mrs. Trestle Nelson.
red that the depression of hot weather
id the rigors they have been in theibit
of attributing to malaria nuickly
isappear when they use Peruna. lhis ?
hy rerttna is so popular with them. - Pp
ana provides ckan mucous membranes, -v.,
id the clean mucous membranes do
If you do not derive prompt and sa&?
ictory results from the use of Peruna
rite at once tb Df. Hartman. givia* ?
ill statement of youf case, and he wiH beleased
to give you bis valuable adrioe
Address Dr. fiartrii&n, President Of Tli*
,'artman Sanitarium, Columbus, 0.
WMBBHftiitM Board a: Con. Writs Qoicfc
E0R8U-AU3JUSA BU$lhESCCOUEG?tKacoet?? ,
Wery & CompaBySUCCESSORS
TO . ; - .
avery & mcmillan,
i-G3 South Forsyth St., Atlanta, ?* f "
, f t^iM|/ ?, ? - \ p?jb%fe^o{\ VfryM .^r "-J-.
i_^' . a^Q
jj /^J / "
ear, 8imnltaneons8et Workaand ^h? ^
cock-Kins? Variable Feed Work* are
<*Ued for AcccEAcr, siupiJciTT^Dinuw^?- descriptive
circulars. M an nfactu red far nJ * **lis^d|?8jj
8AL?M mOK WOR K8AVinst-)n-9dlftm^.C^
LAZYLTO
'I fled Caicaret* ?o good that J would ooibe .
ithoat them. I was troubled s great deal vltlt
>rpid lirer and headache. How since taking"' ? J.'^ v
ascarots Candy Cathartic 1 feel very much tfltter, ~ ;^; hall
certainly recommend them. to mjt fni?^ . 1. -O; a
i the beet medicine I hare ever leom** if??* 2&
nna Basinet, Oaborn Mill Kb. t, Fall BhteeS?M> '
Pleasant, Palatable, Potent. Taste Good. Do Good*
ever Sicken, Weaken of Gripe, 16<r. 25c.tic. Merer -4CS0B
>ld in balk. The genuine tablet stamped C CO. oaranteed
to cara or yon r-money back. ft
8terHng Remedy Co., Chicago or W.Y. flag
JCMUAL SALE. TEH MILLIOH NXES
k L DOUGLAS M
3.55 & *3 SHOES?
Yon can save from $8 to $5 yearly to :$?,
^ weariii|fW.L Doujlaa $3.50 or $3 sboee.
oo'k for name and
)rons Is the highest
i^de Pit.Leither wide.
tr 34 Qllt Edge Unecann^^equalied at any price.
Shoes by mall, 26 rests extra. Wastra4e4 t ..
taleg free. W. L. DOUGLAS, Broektoa, Man- .. .
? i? " ! ,~v
Th* Greet Kast and WestLtite v.
IfSlSWf
50 TxorBi.* to Airamt* qusstiovs. 1 - 'Urty-flve
iallee Shortest Rout? Shr?vepori to
hllas. Write for new book on Texas?no*.
P. TURNER, Gen. Pasa. Agt., Dallas. Texa#. . . . ^
'
Give the name of this paper wh?* -r-^M
iting to advertisers?(At40-3)
mHsi
Price 50c.