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THE LEDGER: GAFFNEY, S. C., OCTOBER 13, 1898 3 THE OLD HUNTSMAN. There's a keen and prim old huntsman On a horse ns white as snow; Sometimes he is very swift. And sometimes he is slow, But he never is at fault, For he always hunts at view, And he rides without a halt After you. The iunt“man’s name is Death; His horse’s name is Time; He is coming, ho is coming, As I s>t and write this rhyme: He is coming, he is coming, As you read the rhyme I write; You can hear his hoof's low drumming Day and night. Yon can hear the distant drumming As the clock goes tick-a-tack, And the chiming of the hours Is the music of his pack; You may hardly note their growling Underneath the noonday sun, But at night you hear them howling As they run. And they never check or falter, For they never miss their kill; Seasons change and systems alter, But the hunt is running still. Hark! The tveiling chime is playing; O’er the long gray town it peals. Don't you hear the deathhound haying At your heels? Where is there an earth or burrow, Where a cover left for you? A year, a week, perhaps tomorrow, Brings the huntsman's death halloa Day by day he gains upon us, And the most that we can claim Is that wh( n the hounds are on us We die game. And somewhere dwells the Master, By whom it was decreed; Ho sent the savage huntsman; Ho bred tho snow white s’.eCd. Those hounds which run forever, Ho sot them on your track; He hears yon scream, but never Calls them back. He* * does not heed our suing, We never see his face; He hunts to our undoing, We thank liian for the chase; We thank him, and we flatter, We ho]*.—because we must— But have we cause? No matteri Let us trust 1 —A. Conan Doyle in Speaker. A CLEVER REVENGE. A celebrated painter of Madrid, whose real name it will be more discreet not to disclose, but whom I shall call .Mo rales, had just completed a superb pic ture for the convent of the Kscurial. Ho had received a large sum of money for his work, and by way of a little relaxa tion after the long continued toil be stowed upon it ho bad assembled around a well spread table a few choice spirits from among his fellow artists. It was a bachelor entertainment. Not a lady was to sit down with them. Even tho mis tress of the house herself, DonaCasilda, had been excluded. Morales had sent her off with her maid to pass tho day with one of her cousins. But Dona Casilda, having a little curiosity in her composition, was very anxious to know what was to tako place in her absence, and had a strong desire to find out what so many men could have to talk about when there were no women present. Instead, therefore, of remaining at tho house of her cousin she quickly returned, bringing tho latter with her, and the two were presently ensconced in a little closet adjoining the studio, where, with eye and ear closely applied to tho keyhole, they remained eagerly listening to all that passed. “But tell us, my friend,” said one of the gnests, “why are we deprived of the pleasure of Seuora Morales’ company. Surely her beauty and wit would not have diminished tho charm of tho de lightful meeting.” “There!” whispered tho lady to her cousin. “That is the first sensible speech I have heard.” “Bosh!” replied the husband, pour ing ont a glass of golden sherry. “Wo men know nothing of tho poetry of life. ” “That is true, ” added another. “ Wo men are mere matter of fact beings— commonplace, essentially prosaic. What do they know about the arts or tho en joyments of artists?” “Fools!” exclaimed Casilda. “Yes,” continued Morales. “Take from women love, intrigues and house hold affairs and they absolutely have nothing that they can think or talk about. ” “Impertinent fellow!” was the com ment of tho listeners. “Why,” added the painter, ”they cannot comprehend a rich joke or one of thoso capital pieces of humor which the air of tho studio inspires. They cannot appreciate them. When a woman plays us a trick, it is always at the expense of our honor.” “Wretch!" This word escaped the two cousins at tho same instant and was uttered in a loud tone, but the noise of the guests and the rattling of glasses pre vented its being heard. “Ah, Master Simple, and so you defy us to play you a trick without touching your honor, do yon? By onr Lady of Atocha, I vow that before Lent is over I will have my revenge!” Casilda set her wits to work, and you shall hear what came of it. On the fol lowing Thursday she engaged her broth er to procure from the Place Cabeda, where they are accustomed to sell frag ments of old buildings, a door of the same dimensions as their own which fronted on the street. She charged him to get one of an antique pattern, cover ed with ironwork and heavy moldings. This she had conveyed to her house with all secrecy and kept closely conceal ed until the favorable moment She had communicated hex design to her brother and a few friends in the neighborhood, on whose aid she relied in carrying out her plot. On a certain evening, when Morales bad retamed home at a late hour from a convent where he had just completed the paint ing of a chapel, which the monks were to have opened at Easter, Casilda re ceiver! him with mnch warmth and a greater profusion of caresses than usual. It was very la*e when they retired to krest, for Morales must first have his Impper. / The nigh I was cold and stormy. To ward midnight Morales’ wife began to ntter deep groans, intermingled with piercing cries, as if suffering intense pain. “Holy Mother!” exclaimed she. “I am dying! My dear husband, my last hour is dine!” Her husband, in consoling tones, tried to quiet her. “I can bear it no longer!” she cried. “Get me a confessor—the sacraments! It is almost over with me!" At these cries the domestic hastened to her assistance, but nothing relieved the sufferer. Poor Morales, though sore against his will, was forced to leave his bed. “I know wbat it is that ails you, mistress,” said the girl. "It is that bad vinegar you mixed with the salad. You know, it served you the same way last time. Mother Castinoja cured you then.” The painter at this began to scold his wile because experience had not made her more careful, but she only sobbed out in half suffocated words: “ ‘A1 hecho no ay remedio’ (What is done cannot be undone). For mercy’s sake, go for Mother Castinoja. She is the only one who can give mo relief. Bring her quickly, or there will bo nothing left for you but to open my grave.” “My little wife,” replied her hus band, in a dismal tone, “my dearest wife, Mother Castinoja has moved to tho other end of tho city. The night is very cold, and the rain is pouring in ton-cuts. Even if I could find Mother ' Castinoja, do you think she would come I to see you through this terrible storm: | Compose yourself, my dear, and do not ! force me to take such a long walk, which I am sure will be of no use.’’ At this Casilda began to seb anew. “See what a husband God has given me! I only ask him to go for a nurse at the risk of wetting his shoes, and ho re fuses. But I know wbat it is you want —yon wish to bo a widower and Jive over again your bachelor life. Ah, I am dying! A priest! I’m poisoned!” Morales, really believing that bis wife was at the last extremity, and fearing if she died that the accusations she had thrown out against him might have serious consequences, endeavored to soothe her by caresses and prepared to light a lantern. Ho then drew on a pair of stout hoots, threw a cloak over his shoulders and manfully set forth on his nocturnal expedition in search of Mother Castinoja. The painter knew that she lived somewhere in the Hue Foncarral, but of the precise location he was totally ignorant. The rain fell in torrents. The night was as dark as Egypt, and Mo rales cursed tho day on which ho was married. It may readily bo imagined that in such a mood ho was not likely to find tho object of his search. But while ho is groping along the streets let us return to the sick lady. No sooner did sho see her husband fairly off on his expedition than sho summoned her brother and a few chosen friends who were lying hid in the cellar. In a twinkling they had the old street door off its hinges and its place supplied by the one bought for the oc- ! casiou. Ab(|ro it they placed a huge white sign, on which was displayed in 1 large letters the following inscription: “The Hotel of tho Cid. Good Enter* i tainment For Man and Beast.” This done, a largo party of friends i from the neighborhood who had been ' let into tho secret were speedily assem- you. So go on, or I’ll let loose a mastiff. Good night.” Thus saying, he closed the window. The singing, and laughter were re newed within. Morales commenced knocking again, when presently he heard some one call ont: “Antonio, unloose the dogs.” At this the door was thrown open and forth came a man with two huge dogs, which might have made the j^ke a rather serious cue had they not been held back by their keeper. “You cursed fellow,” bo said, “what do you mean by making this clamor? Were you not told there was no room for you here?” “But, my good friend, this is my house, and I cannot comprehend what piece of sorcery has converted it into a tavern. ’’ “My good man, yon are certainly un der a strange delusion. There are neither Morales nor mulberries in his neigh borhood.” “I am a painter, well known in this city, and of some celebrity in this quar ter. Call my wife, Casilda. If she is not transformed into a landlady, sbe will doubtless extricate me from this labyrinth.” “The landlady is Maria Perez. For more than six years this has been one cf the most frequented hotels in Madrid. Its master is Piedro Carasco, and I am his valet. And now take yourself off.” Tho poor painter made the best of bis way by groping along through the darkness to tho house of a friend. From tho lamentable voice in which Morales asked admittance the friend thought some serious calamity bad be fallen him, and hastened to let him in. Morales related his adventure, but his frit rid listened with incredulity. However, he prepared him a bed and advised him to go to sleep, for ho doubt ed not that Morales had been making a little too free with tho “jocund grapo.” In the morning tho painter still per sisted in maintaining tho truth of tho story, and his friend, curious to behold tho enchanted mansion, accompanied him home. But to the utter astoaishont of tho mystified artist another change had come* over the spirit cf his dream. Tho marvelous sign had disappeared, the house was secured by its accustomed portal and everything had resumed its former quiet and peaceful appearance. "Come, Morales,” said his friend, slapping him on the shoulder, “confess that you had taken a drop too much lust night and were afraid to return I heme.” “On my honor ns a man and as an .artist,” replied Morales,”! have told j you nothing but tire truth.” Morales rapped sharply at tho door. I Bridget, the maidservant, hastened to | open it. "Ob, Sen or Morales!” cried she in tones of well feigned astonishment, j “How could yon have the heart to stay • ont all night carousing with your friends i aud your poor wife lying hero at death’s ! door? And to go off under pr? tense of finding Mother Castinoja! Sbamo on S you!” “Shameon yon!” cried a dozen shrill I voices from tho uighboring windows. “You have an angi 1 for a wife, and you leave her in this cruel way to die ■ without assistance!” “Ah, indeed! And where have you j been all night? In some filthy tavern, I guess, drinking with your good for noth ing companions. What an abominable bled. Castanets and guitars were put in requisition. A repast was prepared, and i thing a man is who plays the bachelor!” the merry guests began to eat, drink “But it is with mo ho has the account merry guests and dance by way of celebrating the dismal expedition of tho poor husband who hud gone in search of Mother Cas tinoja. Meanwhile, having proceeded from street to street, knocked at more than CO doors aud roused aud angered tho whole neighborhood, our good painter was at length obliged to return without the nurse. He was drenched to tho skin, and his patience was completely ex hausted. On approaching his house the sonnd of musical instruments, singing and peals of laughter burst upon his astonished curs. Thinking he had made a mistake, he raised the lantern, aud discovering a different door from his own, with tho sign of a hotel over it, he became completely bewildered and began to traverse the pavement anew. “It is indeed the Rue do Lapaire,” said he. “Here is the bookstore of Pedro Trappal, and this is the house of Diego le Boiteux, and then surely comes mine.” He recognized the doors of all his neighbors—his alone was changed. “God help me!” said he, making CO signs of the cross, “this indeed must be my house. It is but an hour and a half siuce I left it. My wifo was then weep ing and groauiug with pain, and now they are singing and dancing. I have never noticed a tavern iu this street, and surely it is uot in my house they would establish oue.” He began to make a closer examina tion, passing his baud over the door, but could uot find the knocker. At last, determining to make himself heard in hopes that as soon as ho effect ed an entrance he would learn the cause of this mysterious transformation, he to settle, ” cried Casilda, who now came up, looking wan and p-.ile, as was nat ural, after a night of dissipation. “And so you believed I was dead, aud you thought to come back aud squander my dower on your bachelor parties! But you did not recki n on the kind services of the neighbors.” “My dear little wife,” said Morales soothingly, “if you will only listen to me, you will find that I am much more to bo pitied than blamed." And here tho poor artist began to re late what had happened to him. But his story was received with shouts of laughter. “Tell that to others! Do you take us for ioiots, Morales, to whom you are telling some of your humbug stories of tho studio? Confess tho truth, man. You have fallen iu with some of your scapegrace companions, with whom yon have passed tho night drinking and carousing. Tell the truth and beg par don for your fault, instead of standing there telling these cock aud bull stories that no oue will believe.” And, iu truth, Morales had to come to this at last. Crestfallen, overwhelm ed by ridicule, he was forced to sui humbly for pardon, which was only grunted him on the ccnditiou that he would give no more bachelor parties.— From the Spanish For Short Stories. GENERAL WHEELER’S WAY. How 4 *FIs:htIiW the Trenches DuK ut K3 I’stsso. When the American lino had fought its way to the top of the hills at El Paso and San Juan and Coney, General Wheeler issued au order that every com mand should dig treuches iu preparation for the conflict that he knew would breakout again iu the morning, but the soldiers had thrown away most of their trenching tools during the fierce rifle charges, and as darkness fell upon tho scene of battle they threw themselves upon thagionud aud went to sleep from sheer exhaustion. Adjutant Hood of the rough riders, noting this condition of affairs, rode over to General Wheeler’s tent aud informed the good old veteran that the men were played out. Wheeler at tho time was lyiugupou his cot more dead than alive, but there was a smile upon his lips and his never failing good humor twinkling iu his eyes, when Ad jutant Hood said: “General, I am afraid onr men can’t dig the trenches.” “What men?” asked the general. “The cavalry division, ” said tho ad jutant. General Wheeler sat up in bed and began pulling on his boots. “Send me the man,” he directed. “What man?” asked tho adjutant. “The man who can’t dig the trenches.” “But it is not one man. It is many men. They are just played out. ” “But you can surely find one man who says ho can’t dig the trench. I only want one. Go get him and bring him to me.” “But there are”— “I don’t care how many there are. Go get mo one.” The adjutant had never faced such a man as Wheeler before, and ho did not know just what to make of the conver sation. The little old general was as smooth and suave aud courteous as could bo, and Hood had nothing to do but ride back to the lino. In some way he managed to round up a colored trooper belonging to the Ninth cavalry aud brought him back to tho division head quarters. Ho stood looking sheepishly at tho ground when Wheeler addressed him. “Are you the man who says he can’t dig these trenches?” asked the general. The negro’s feet shuttled uneasily in the ground. “Ize one of ’em, boss, but there’s a”— Tho general stopped him aud walked out of his tent. “You can go to sleep now, my man, aud I’ll go up and dig your trench for you. When tho snn comes up tomorrow morning, the Spaniards are going to open on us, and every man who isn’t protected is not only iu danger of being killed, but will be nnable to help us maintain our own position. The trenches have to bo dug, aud if you are unable to dig yours I’ll just go and do it for you. Where's your pick?” With the most businesslike air in the world Wheeler slid into his coat aud turned toward the big cavalryman. The latter’s eyes opened us ho saw tho pro ceedings, and they began to bulge out when tho general motioned to him to lead the way to his camp. For half a minute his voice stuck in his throat, and then ho said: “Boss, you ain’t fit to dig no trenches. If they done got to be dug, I’ll just nat- uraliy do it myself. I’m dog tired, but that ain’t no work for you. ” Wheeler stopped and looked at tho man with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I know it isn’t work for me to do,” he said, “but I am going to need sol diers in the morning, and I am going to save your life if possible. Do yon think now that you can dig tho trench?” The negro started up the hill without a word. Then the general turned to Ad jutant Hood with u voice as pleasant as sunshine iu May. “Ho seems to have changed his mind,” he said. “Now you go find me another man who can’t dig tho trenches.” The adjutant bowed aud rode off. He never came buck. In the morning tho treuches were dug.—Atlanta Constitu tion. l.ml> llollmnl. A writer in The Pall Mall Magazine says that iu the midst of some of Ma- c&nluy’e interesting anecdotes Lady Hol land would tap on the table with htr fan aud say, “Now, Macanlay, we have had enough of this—give ns something began to thump on the door with blows j else,” or to Sydney Smith, “Sydney, loud enough to rouse the whole neigh borhood. The merrymakers within pretended uot to hear him. He knocked still more loudly. At length, after be had stood a long time nnder the drippings of the roof, a man, with head covered by an old handkerchief, opened tho window above. “Hello, my good man, what in the devil do you want at this time of night? There is no room for you here. Go else where for yonr lodging.” “Bnt I wish to enter my own house.” ‘‘My friend, it is uot our custom to open our doors ut this unusual hour.” “Morbleu! but I tell you this is my bouse, and my father, Diego Morales, paid a round sum for it with his own deniers. ” “Hark ye, my fine follow, I know not if the wine which disturbs your noddle was Val do Pequas or Logroquo, but I’ll be sworn it was capital, aud the water from the gutters will not hurt ring the bell.” He answered, “Oh, yes, and shall I sweep the room?” To Lord 1‘ortci ester her frankness went even further: “lam sorry to hear you are going to publish a poem. Can t you suppress it?” If her dinner table was too crowded, she instantly gave her imperious order, “Luttrell, make room!” “It must certainly be made,” he an swered, “for it does uot exist.” !tcr«p!;o»k 1‘iiHtc. A flue paste for scrapbooks can be made from alum water and flour, 1* 5 teaspoonfuls of powdered alum dissolved in nougb cold water to make a pint of paste. Pour the water when the alum is dissolved on enough flour to thicken it an stiff as common paste. Bring it to a boil, stir all the time, and when done add a few drops of oil of cloves. The alum prevents fermentation, aud the oil of cloves prcviail or destroys all vege table mold. SEVENTH CORPS TO LEAVE. All Troops Now In Jacksonville YVill Soon Depart For Cuba. Jacksonville, Fla., Oct. 8. — The Seventh army corps will probably leave Jacksonville in less than two weeks, and preliminary preparations are now being made to that end. Orders have been received at corps headquarters from General Lee, who is now in Washington, instructing Colonel £cott, acting adjutant general of the Seventh army corps, to notify the di vision aud regimental commanders to at once prepare to leave at au early date for Savannah, Ga., where the corps will embark for Cuba. The time for the departure of the corps from this city was uot stated iu tho order and no definite information regarding the date could be learned, but a private telegram received from Wash ington says that the corps will leave Jacksonville on Oct. 20. General Lee is expected to return from Washington within a few days and will at once perfect the corps for its departure aud the occupation of Cuba as a garrison. LOSSES ABOUT BRUNSWICK. One Hundred and Twenty Victims of the Recent Hurricane. Brunswick, Ga., Oct. 7.—From con firmatory reports of the recent storm now in, the loss on land and sea of lifo around Darien and Brunswick is 120— nine-tenths negroes. These reports aro secured from reliable sources and are verified as far as possible. The losses are distributed as follows: Seven Brunswick, 20 Campbell island, 70 to 80 Butler’s island, five Doboy and sight on au unknown vessel wrecked off St. Andrews bar. The property loss, including Darien, Brunswick, Sapelo, St. Simons, Jekyl, Cumberland and Wolf islands, sur rounding rice fields, stock, cattle aud buildings, at conservative figures, is es timated at $1,000,000. She Saw a Heal Ghoiit. Near the village of Mold, in Flint shire, Wales, there existed irom time immemorial an old burial mound, some thing after the character ot those rude earthworks known in this country as Indian mounds. The superstitious Welsh peasantry called the mound the “Hill of the Fairies.” A road nearby led to the market town. Along this oue night iu 1827 a woman was returning home. Suddenly she was frightened out of her senses to see rise from the mound the skeleton of a man, which was cloth ed iu a vestment of shining gold. With a shriek of fright the woman fled away, aud for years no oue dared go near the place at night. Finally the mound was cleared away for farming purposes. Then was found iu addition to the urns aud Imiucs usual in those places a com plete skeleton, which, curiously enough, wore a corselet of pure gold, engraved and embossed in the best skill of an cient art. This unique relic is now in the British museum. THESE Ladies % HAVE NEVER tried the great system regulator PRICKLY ASH BITTERS, Because they think it is I I nasty and bitter disagreeable I To the stomach and violerf [inaction. ASK THESE A Story of Palmerston. A correspondent of the Etoile Beige tells a good story of Lord Palmerston. At a soiree of the Due Decazes in 1847 Lord aud Lady Palmerston, then in Paris, arrived too late for formal presen tation to the two literary “lions,” Du mas and Victor lingo. Shortly before the company separated the host mo tioned to Dumas to leave a vacant chair between himself and his companion. With grave mien the British statesman conducted his wife thither. “What is the time, my lady?” “Half past 12, my lord.” “Then I pray you remember that at that hour yon sat between Alex ander Daman and Victor Hugo, an honor yon may enjoy only once in a lifetime. ” So saying, be led bit wife back to the hostess. They will Tell you if is r noT at ail disagreeable. [Andasacureforlndiges1ior),| ^CoDstipaHor), Kidney .Disorders it is un excelled. NOOSE MAY CLAIM ITS OWN. Double Murderer Edward Klaung u Is N’ow Getting Well. Atlanta, Oct. 8.—Edward Flana gan, the DeKalb county murderer, v ho is a prisoner iu Fulton county jaii, ia improving in health and his appe ite, at one time so small, is growing trei .eu- iously. His only complaint at present is ;hat he does not get enough tobacco. 1’ lan- agan is a tobacco fiend, and while the jail authorities supply him with a gen erous allowance of the weed the mur derer is uot satisfied. He only stops shewing long enough to sleep at uight. The man is waiting with anxiety to hear of tho decision of the supreme court in regard to giving him a new trial and asks each day if there is anything about his case in the paprs. * New Army Corps Organized. Washington, Oct. 7.—A general order was issued today organizing new army corps and designating various points where the troops shall bo stationed. The Third, Fifth and Sixth corps aro discontinued; the First, Second aud Fourth corps reorganized. They are to be commanded respectively by Major Generals Breckinridge, Graham and Wheeler. The headquarters of the corps will be: First corps, Macon, Ga.; Sec ond corps, Augusta, Ga.; Fourth corps, Huntsville, Ala. A Mystery of Indo-CIiiun. The great mystery about ludo-China and one which must ever be insoluble is the story of tho lost race and the van ished civilization of that strange coun try. Tho mighty walls of Angkor-Wat, ! rising in the midst of sparsely settled jungles, remain as tho memorial of a ! great empire which has utterly disap- • peared and is altogether lost to history^ | No ouo will eve? know who pluauul this gigantic temple or what tyrant hounded on his myriads of people to build up those immense blocks of stono and cover them with the most elaborate of sculptures. Angkor-Wat ono of tho most aston ishing monuments in tho world, and this forgotten templo was built so as to endure as long as the earth itself were it riot for the irresistibly destructive effect of plant life on tho strongest walls that man can raise. (July a high ly civilized aud very wealthy people could have erected Augkor-Wat, a very different race from the Auumite of modern days. Tho whole nation has dis appeared as utterly as the busy myriads who once populated tho wastes aud sol itudes of Memphis.—Singapore Free i Press. In Defense of Ills Child. Glnteksville, Ala., Oct. 7. — At Arab, a small village 14 miles from here, Dabney Mitchell shot aud killed Dave Thompson. A row had occurred be tween the children of the two families aud Thompson had threatened to whip the children of Mitchell, as rumor has it, aud was in the act of beginning bis task when Mitchell fired the contents of both barrels of a shotgun into Thomp son’s head, spattering his brains over the ground. No arrest has been made. Sons to Honor Miss Winnie. Atlanta, Oct. 8.—Tho United Sons of Confederate veterans, in an order is sued by Commander-In-Chief Smyth, declare their intention of erecting alone and unaided a monument over the grave of the late Miss Winnie Davis. They claim the right as an evidence of the esteem in which the “Daughter of the Confederacy” was held by them. The matter will be taken up by the various caini>s aud action had at once. McKInlry’s Hrolhcr-ln-Law Slain. Canton, O., Oct. 8.—George D. Sax ton, a brother of Mrs. William McKin ley, was shot dead in front of the resi dence of Mrs. Eva B. Althouse, widow of the late George Althouse, where he had gone to make a call. Mrs. Anna George, whom the victim had attempted to discard, has been placed under arrest, charged with the murder. Murdered While He Slept. Scottsboro, Ala., Oct. 10. — Lost night at Hillian’s Store, a village about 18 miles south of here, in Marshall county, a farmer named J. Hayes, about 85 years old, was shot and killed while asleep in his bed by an unknown assas sin. Neighbors who brought the news came here to wire to Chattanooga for bloodhounds. Celebration For Atlanta. Atlanta, Oct. 7.—A meeting of prom inent citizens was held at nooa to day in the office of Mayor Collier to consider the question of holding a peace jubilee here. Steps were taken to pro vide a program of events and make ar rangements for the details of the pro posed celebration. Governor Taylor Improves. Nashville, Oct. 7.—The condition of Governor Robert L. Taylor, who is very ill at his home iu Johnson City, is im proved today. His physicians have or dered absolute rest aud ouiet for him, and his friends are qoite hopeful of his recovery. Chalfleld For Congress. Aiken, S. C., Oct. 10.—The Republi can district convention met here and after the adoption of resolutions in dorsing the administration at Washing ton nominated B. P. Chatfield for con gress from the Third. The t'utriilned Polltleinn. On his return from his last visit to America Cobden received at Liverpool a message from Lord Palmerston, offering him a seat in the cabinet, writes Grant Duff in “Notes From a Diary. ” Con sulting with his friends at Manchester, he decided to decline. On arriving in London, ho went to Cambridge House, and, finding tba prime minister sitting alone at break fast, said to him, “Lord Palmerston, beforo we come to business I ought to say that I consider your having made the proposal you have made to a man who has been attacking you so steadily for so many years, a proof of great magnanimity; bnt don't you think that it would bo really better tbat I should first change my principles and then go into your cabinet than that I should first go into your cabinet and then chango my principles?” Lord Palmer ston struck his hand violently upon the table aud exclaimed, “Confound it, Mr. Cobden, what did you go into public life for?” Catarrh of the boreels, be- ' cause it is most prevalent iu the summer months, is calUd summer catarrh. Itsurprisesmanythat fi 'lli bowel trouble is catar rhal. Dr. Hartman's hooks make this plain. Write to the Pc-ru-na Medicine Co., Columbus, ()., for them. They tell all about catarrh and how Pe-ru-na cures it wherever located. “I had chroniodiarrluca for fifteen years,” writes Mr. T. E. Miller, Grand Prairie, Tex. “ I tried many medicines and !;,j ( doctors in vain. At last j Pe-ru-na was recoin- mended, and it relieved and cured me at once.” Mr. John Harting, 633 Main St., Cincinnati, O., writes: “ My wife and myself took your Pe- ru-na for chronic diar rhoea and it cured us. No doctor or medicine we tried before helped US. Mr. Edward Wonnack Ledbetter, Tex., writes: “ Pe-ru-na for bowel troubles Is unequalled by anything in my ex- /,' perience. I owe my ,' life to Pe-ru-na, and shall always rccomi mend it to those suffer ing as I was.” Mr. John Edgarton. 1020 Third Ave., Altoona, Pa., says: “I suffered from dysentery for three years 1 took Po- ru-na and am now well.” aim.* V