Newspaper Page Text
SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.
Sitting thinking at close ot day,
The red fires burning fast away,'
Of all word* spoken, and thdse not,
Ot all things done, and all forgot
In sight ot these mv striving* seem
Vain as the rising tide's bright gleam,
That ever strives higher to reach,
Bat never flows beyond the beach
And always with the setting sun
There's ever something left undone.
I mingle with the festive throng,
And with light heart and happy song
I try to wile the hours away,
To lose my sadness and be gay.
1 watch the fleeting, dancing feet,
I list to words that might lie sweet,
But with the last entrancing strain
My soul asks me, "Where is thy gain
I know that with the day's short run
There's something lett, that's all undone.
The hours, the days, the weeks go by.
Deep snows over the daisies lie
Each fading sun brings me the thought,
What to Thee have I this day brought
My heart is heavy in my breast,
With the dead flowers I long to rest
But with the spring-time's joyous glow
I gain courage my way to go,
And pray with earnest heart to One,
That nothing I may leave undone.
As o'er my head the yews pass by,
And o'er my brow their sorrows fly
I may look back and view ttiem not
With vain regret, but thank my lot
That it was granted me to do
What best 1 might, and what I knew
Was mine to finish and the rest
For those who it might do th best.
And I may know what I begun
Is at the last by me well done.
WARNINGS FROM VESUVIUS.
The Naples correspondent of the Lon
don Times writes to that Journal on
We have had no other alarm from the
earthquake since Monday, and the public
feelinjr is subsiding into its usual tranquil
state of secuirty. For one or two days
every one, I believe, was anxious and ap
prehensive, for it is no trifle to be rocked
in your bed, to see your walls rocking
backward and forward, and to hear the
timbers creaking. Such sights would be
alarming anywhere, more especially in
Naples, which has suffered from a scries
of disasters, and which has not yet for
gotten the awful earthquake of 1857.
On Monday night and Tuesday morning
few persons went to bed: or if they did
they threw themselves on it in military
style, completely dressed and ready for a
start. Many formed parties, as if seek
ing security in society, but more were in
the streets, in cafe% or in carriages of
any kind they could lay hands on. Thoes
who were less fortunate had to pass the
night on the pave exposed to rain, and
what for this country was bitter cold.
There was a full expectation that the
earthquake would repeat its visit at the
end of twenty-four honrs after the first
shock—it not unfrequently does—so that
from midnight until 3:2 4 on Tuesday
morning apprehension became increasing
ly and painfully strong.
Conversation was on the wane, snatch
es of Litany were chanted here and there
almost sotto voice. As 3 o'clock ap
proached there was a dead silence, as if
the enemy were upon them and thus it
was at 3:15 when apprehension was in
tense but the minute-hand marked 3:24,
and the sense of relief was great, for
nothing happened to create alarm, though
this did not suffice to satisfy those who
fancied that the dreaded visitor might
have .delayed his coming, or that clocks
might be wrong A few minutes more
restored tranquility to the most timid,
and by dawn of day all went home chill
ed to the marrow, many, it is probable,
having found the death from which they
fled. During the day preceding this
anxious night preperations were made by
persons which remind us of the hurried
flight from Pompeii, indications of which
have often been brought to light during
the excavations. Boxes were purchased
and jewels packed, and in some cases it
is said, even articles of dres«. All that
was most precious was in readiness to
be carried off, and, says a Journalist, one
lady sent off' her 'adorato papagallo'
(adored parrot), to be restored if demand
ed, or bequethed to the friend if she
herself were buried under the ruins of
Naples. It is unnecessary to say that
this general apprehension was of a most
exaggerated and unnecessary character.
Still no one can answer for his house
when its foundations are heaving up and
down, and we cannot forget the horrors
of 1857, when 30,000 persons were des
troyed by earthquake in the neighboring
provinces, and our bells rang, as it
were, funeral peals over them. Later re
ports now tell us that the shock was felt
as far as Bari, and in every place it ex
cited great alarm. In Salerno the peo
ple were in a state of fanatical madness.
All rusned to the cathedral, insisting on
bringing out the statue of the patron
saint, Saint Matthew, and the bells
being rung—a not uncommon practice in
a tempest. The clergy, however, in
obedience to the civil authorities, would
not permit it, but the public feeling was
too strong to be resisted, so that the
statue was carried off on the shoulders of
men. Wax tapers were seized, and, fol
lowed by many thousand persons, St.
Matthew was borne in procession through
the streets. There was considerable fesw
that a dangerous collision might have oc
cured, for by order of the Prefect, a de
tachment of soldiers was sent out and
placed at the disposal of the Qusestor.
After a long time, however, the people
were persuaded that the saint had little
connection with the earthquake, and as
it did not repeat its visit, St. Matthew
was taken back to the cathedral, and all
returned to their homes.
No serious disaster has occured any
where except in St. Marco, in Lamis, in
the Capitanata, a commune of about 15,
000 persons. There several houses were
thrown down, and three persons hurried.
Many foreign visitors left Naples on Mon
day, and it is feared that for the moment
the trade of the season will be injured
but, with the almost certainty tf an
eruption, crowds will propable come in.
As iu 1875, the earthquake of December
was followed very soon after by an
eruption, for if Vesuvius was not the cen
ter of the recent movement it is more or
less remotely connected with it. The
activity of the mountain increases daily,
and Cozzolino, the well-known guide of
Vesuvius, writes to me that the shocks
have been frequent at Resina, though
slight. The panic which was created
on Monday, he says, was indescribable
for, in addition to earthquake, there was
a general apprehension that the moun
tain was, or would be. pouring down its
streams of lava upon them. Let me haz
ard the conjecture that the actual sub
terranean may have been produced or
precipitated by the deluges of rain which
have fallen this season. Professor Phil
lips, in his interesting work of Vesuvius,
says: "If we follow out the idea arrived
at in the prececding passage—internal
fissures arrising from some kind of accu
mulated pressure—the necessity of earth
quakes following upon such a process in a
volcanic region will be apparent. For
thus the heated interior becomes opened
to the admission of water: the generation
of steam, the sudden shock, the far ex
tended vibratory motion, are conse
quences of a slow change of dimensions,
in pressencc of internal heat and admit
A SEXTON'S EXP ERIE* CE.
[From the New York Graphic]
A few hundred people in New York
know the Episcopal Church of the Trans
figuration by this, its proper name but
when we speak of it as "The Little Church
Around the Corner" it is familiar to
every one, for its reputation has crossed
the sea. Located on the north side of
Twenty-ninth street, between Fifth and
Madison avenue, its exterior presents
picturesque attractions unsurpassed.
While its architectural altitude is far be
low that of scores of other churches
around as many corners, as a synonym of
a humanity of sentiment towards all men
it reaches an upper atmosphere far above
many of the houses dedicated to worship,
in which the creed and the people are as
stiff-necked and inflexible as the steeple
over their heads.
James C. Rappleyea, the sexton, does
not advertise himself and his funeral
wares, as is the wont of other sex tons, by
a tin "shingle" nailed to the house of God
with a delicacy that does him the highest
credit, he allows his works to praise him.
Neither does he like to talk of himself or
his groat success as "Sexton and funeral
furnisher" (to quote from the city direct
ory.) The writer recently conversed
with him at length concerning sextons
and undertakers in particular, and many
other things in general, and he furnished
many interesting facts. **Dr. houghton
is very particular what goes in the papers,
and what don't go in, dea't you see
was his satisfactory reason for his guard
"No I don't have no sign on the church,"
said Mr. Rappleyea "It makes the
church look like a place of business-that
is just the reason I don't have a sign.
People coming to^church don't want to
have a sign stuck in their faces to remind
them of what they are coming to and
then perhaps the very next thing they
see alter they get inside is me, and every
thing comes up. And I don't have any
coffins in my windows," he continued, re
ferring to his place of business as under
taker, at No 654 Sixth avenue.
"I have been sexton of the Little Church
Around the Corner," or the 'Church of
the Holy Cucumber-vine,' as it was once
styled, since Nov 1, 1800. I was with
Dr. Houghton when he was a little young
boy, over in Twenty-fourth street near
Fourth avenue. I was assistant with my
brother-in-law, Mr. Samuel Deare, who
was sexton of Calvary Episcopal Church.
From there I went to the House of Prayer,
in Newark, with Dr. Southard, where he
was rector and I was sexton. I've known
a great many men, but he was a gentle
man in every respect. I never knew one
like him-a friend to every one who is a
friend to himself."
"Holland's funeral ?Oh yes, I managed
that at the church, but trie things were
furnished by two or three different per
sons. You know that wasn't the first
trouble. John J. Eckel, the man who
was sentenced for killing Burdell, died
at Albany, and his body was brought
down here. He was amemberjof Rutger's
Presbyterian Church. Queer, wasn't it,
that both the big churches right around
the corner on Madison avenue should do
the same thing But they$wouldn*t let
his body in, and it was taken over to my
store on Fourth avenue-I used to be
there- and a prayer was said by Mr. Mc-
Allister, a Methodist clergyman. Yes,
Eckel's was the first case, but Holland's
funeral is what gave the church the name
everybody knows it by now. Dr. Sabine
was the man who called it so."
"No I don't keep no record of weddings
I just take my fee an* let 'em go. But I
keep a book of all my funerals. Talk of
real, genuine men-there are other under
takers in the city who have great funerals
sometimes—but come to the real thing, I
have probably buried more private gen
tleman than any other undertaker in
New York. I've had close along towards
a hundred funerals this year—twenty five
or thirty at the church. What prom
inent men have I buried Why, a great
many of 'em. Mark Smith was quite a
famous great actor, you know, and his
body was brought here. Then I had
Dr. Mott, the old gentleman himself Mr.
Squires, that was killed on the Erie Rail
road—he was quite a man, and belonged
to General Sickles' brigade Major-Gen
cral Hamblin, at which Jim Fisk was so
prominent, and a great many more.
Here they all are, and you can* see for
yourself," and Mr. Rappleyea passed the
book over containing the entries of all
his funerals, with the items of expense.
Accidentally the firs page opened con
tained the name of Guiseppe Guidicini,
who frescoed the Grand Opera-house, but
died the night it was opened. His last
wish had been to see the effect by gas
light. "Fisk paid the bill for«his funeral
without looking at the items," said Mr.
Rappleyea. The items which Fisk did
not look at are as follows:
Ice-box and porter V. $12 00
Merino-lined coffin, silver moldings 200 00
Eight silver handles, at $2 16 00
Died January 7, 1868,
Aged 57 years 1.2 days.
Hearse to Greenwood 10 00
Twelve coaches, at 97 84 00
Seven pairs best kid gloves, at $2 14 00
One linen scarf 8 00
Four porters to house—two to Green
wood 8 00
Case for casket 5 00
Best velvet pall 3 00
Cash paidforgrave 6 00
Ferrying. 7 60
Personal services rendered 15 00
Total $402 60
"My funerals are always recommend
ed—almost always," continued Mr. Rapp
leyea. "Now I think they often put the
body on ice too quick. A great many
respectable people who have fine feelings
won't put 'em on ice, but use an ice box.
and then, perhaps, the body won't keep
at all. My funerals are among the first
clas5 people in the city-it seems that way.
I've had as many as eight in two or three
"Did I ever know of a case where a per
son was buriei alive Well, not exactly.
But I knew a person New Jersey a
great many years ago, when I was a boy.
that would have been buried alive if it
hadn't been for me. I promised the
family never to say anything about it.
She was a tanner's daughter in New
Brunswick, N. J., and they had her laid
out on a board, the old-fashioned way,
on the parlor table. I knew she wasn't
dead, and they waited. She looked so
pretty-and she lived to have two or three
children," and the sexton smiled and
"Was you ever knocked down by a
dead man "Mr. Rappleyea asked. The
visitor confessed that he never enjoyed
an experience of this sort, and modestly
allowed that few live men could accom
plish that feat. "I was once," continued
Mr. Rappleyea. "Another man and I
once went to lay a body out. The
widdow said the remains of the departed
were up in the front chamber. We went
up, but the only thing we found was a
man reclining on the arm of a sofa. So
we went down and told the lady, and she
said that was him on the sofa. We went
up again. I says, 'That's him,' and
walked over to the man on the sofa.
He looked as natural as life, but he was
so stiff that when we laid him out on the
floor we had hard work to straighten him.
The other man went down stairs for
something, and as I was over the corpse
his right hand come up from under him,
where we had bent it down, and hit me
a lick that sent me over against the man
tle. Oh such a clip It made my jaw so
sore, and my face was black and blue for
THE THERMOMEIER MAN IN.
[From the Detroit Free Press.]
He was a way-worn man from the East,
and he had thirty-seven thermometers in
a basket on his arm. After standing on
the street corners for two or three hours
without making a sale, he started for the
eastern part of the city, hoping to do bet
ter among the private houses. He seem
ed to gain confidence fro the cheerful
look of the dwellings, and he bore him
like a banker as he ascended the steps and
pulled a door-bell.
"Nothing for the poor," said the lady,
as she opened the door.
"I'm not soliciting for the poor—I am
selling thermometers," he replied in a
"Don't want any—bought our stock in
the Fall," she said drawing in her
"I said thermometers, Madam," he call
ed in a despairing voice.
"I know it but we've got all the veget
ables we can use," she called back, and
the door struck his toes.
Going to the saloon on the corner the
man addressed the proprietor with a
sweet smile, asking:
"Would you like a thermometer to
"By de pushel asked the saloonist.
"No—a thermometer—a little instru
ment for telling you when it is cold or
"Any music-box in it inquired the
"No it records the weather."
"Why, the weather wc have every day
in the year. When it is warm this little
bulb runs up when it is cold it sinks
"Umph! Vhcn it ish warm I dakes my
goat off vhen it ish gold I but more goal
in der stoaf. Go und sell dat to some
schmall poy as knows noddings!"
The thermometer man entered a carpet
weaver's, and a bow-backed man nodded
kindly and cordially welcomed him.
"Accurate thermometers for only
twenty-five cents," said the peddler, as he
held one up
"New thing?" asked the weaver, as he
took one in his hand.
"We have had thermometers for many
years. People have come to consider
them a household necessity."
"Zero? Zero! Who was Zero'"ask
ed the weaver, reading the word behind
The thermometer man explained, and
the weaver, after trying to get his thumb
nail under the glass, asked:
"Where does the blamed thing open
"Thermometere are not meant to open,
my friend, was the reply.
"Well, I don't want any thermometers
around me that won't open!" growled
the weaver. "I thought it was a hew
kind of stove-handle when you came in,
or I shouldn't have looked at it!"
The thermometer 'man next tried a
wclling-house. In answer to his ring,
the door was instantly and swiftly open
ed by a red-faced woman, who hit him
with a club and cried out:
"I'll learn you, you young villian!"
She apologized and explained that
several bad doys had been ringing the
door-bell, and he forgave her and said:
"I have some accurate and handsome
thermometers here. Would you
"We never have hash for breakfast,*'
she interrupted. "My husband detests
hash, and so I don't wan't to buy."
"Hash! A Thermometer has nothing
to do with hash!" he exclaimed.
"Well, I can't help that," she replied,
slowly crossing the door." We havn't
anv lamps to mend, and you shouldn't
track the steps in that way."
There was a portly man crossing the
street, and the thermometer man beckon
ed to him, halted him, and when he got
near enough asked
"Can I sell you an accurate thermom
"What do I want with a thermometer?"
exclaimed the portly man, raising his
voice a peg.
"Why, to note the weather."
"You blamed idiot! Do you suppose
I run the weather roared the fat man,
growing purple in the face.
"But you want to know when it is hot
or cold, don't you?"
"Am I such an old fool that I don't
know when it's summer and when it's
winter shrieked the fat man.
"We all know, of coarse," replied the
stranger "but every respectable family
has a thermometer nowadays."
"They have, eh I never had one, nor,
I wouldn't have one, and do you dare to
tell that I ain't respectable!'' screamed
"I didn't mean
"Yes you did, and you've made me
miss th© car, and I'll cane you!"
The Thermometer man waded across
the muddy street and made his escape,
and at dusk last night was backed up
against the Soldiers' Monument, his
basket between his feet, and was squint
ing sadly at the clock on the City Hall
A MOUNTAIN COURT SCENE.
Old Job Dawson had been duly elected
to fill the responsible position of a Justice
of the Peace, and this was the first case
which had demanded his attention. Job
was an old veteran mountaineer, and had
lived in the shadow of the lofty peaks,
hunting, trapping and fighting mdiaus, to
use his own words "sense Adaii war a
kid" In that rough region au accusation
of a great crime against any one is but a
forerunner of a "hanging bee," and a
trial even is seldom thought of. But in
the present instance a wild "cuss" who
had been frequenting the settlements had
appropriated a broncho" (Indian pony)
belonging to a neighboring ranchman,
and hid been pursued, captured and
brought back. Old Job was summoned
to try the culprit, and a spot in the
rocky gulch near the 'squire's cabin was
selected as the sight of the investigation.
A motly crowd of hunters, trappers,
miners, and raucheros had assembled.
Some were lying on the ground others
sitting on the rock, all anxiously await
ing the 'squire's coming. Job soon came
from towards his cabin, and, with a dig
nified air, seated himself upon a boulder,
took off his bearskin cap, and said:
"Fellers, the Court ar' ready to git
down to biz, an' I want ye to cheese yer
racket an' let uo on that chin music
according to law. Throw yer ha'r in
sight, an' pay 'tention to the Court."
Everybody's hat came off at his com
mand, and "His Honor" glancing around
the circle, said:
"Whar's the cuss?
Three mountaineers armed with Hen
ry rifles and six shooters stepped forward
with the thief, a young man wearing a
bold, devil may-care expression. His
hands were securely fastened behind his
back with buckskin thongs. Clad in
buckskin from head to foot, he presented
a picturesque appearance as he faced the
"What do they call you when yer at
home asked the Court.
"Ain't cot enny home, leastways in
these parts," sullenly replied the prisoner.
"Ain't hey Well, what's the name
you tuck w'en you left the States, then?"
"The boys hyer on -the hills call me
|'Wall, Tige, yer spotted as a hoss
thief, an' I reckon thsr's sumthin' in it
or the boys wudn't a brought you in.
Yon can't expect a toney trial like you'd
git down to Laramie or in eny of those
towns along the road. We hevn't eny
paper, pens cr ink, or eny o' that sort o'
foolishness up hyer in the hills, an' thar
ain't one o' us as could engineer 'em ef
we had, so we'll jist grind her through,
an' do the best we kin for you. In the
name o' the law I now ax you did you
collar thet hoss—but stop 'er rite thar,
doggone it, I forgot to swar you. Cum
mitey near forgittin' it. Hold up yer
"Holdup nothin'. How kin I when
they'r tied tiier'n blazes?"
"Thet's so. Yer k'rect, Tiger, but
gess any member o* the body '11 be, 'cord
in'to law in extreme cases.' Stedey him
a little, fellers, so's he kin hold up his
"Tige" raised his moccasin-covered
foot while a guard on each side held him
"Now, then, I ain't fly on them ar law
yers' affydavy's, but I'll make her stout
enuffto hold a Mexican mule. Tiger
Jim, do you swar by the holy Moses, ac«
cordin' to the laws of Wyoming Terri
tory, thetl every time ye chip inter my
racket ye 11 give us the squar' truth.
An' ef yeTr dori*t, do you hope that ye
may git chawed up by a grizzly, chopped
to pieces by Sioux, strung up to a pino
with a rope 'roun' yer thievin' neck, an'
fail to connect on heaven w'en yer1 life
goes out, to the best o' yer understandin
as provided by law, s'help ver God.
"That's jist w'at I does, pardy."
"Now Tige, yer under oath, an' ev'ry
time yer speak yer want ter hit the bull's
eye. Did you nip thet hoss?"
"Wall Uncle Job, there's no use o' lying'
about it an' I'll tell you jist how ft war.
Last night you know lhar war a jambo
ree over to Al. Wilkins ranche in Miller's
gulch an' I war ther. Al. had been in to
Laramie City and got a keg o' good old
budge, an' we all got putty full. Arter
the dancin' was over I pulled out fur
Bowles' ranche, whar I'm hangin' out
an' as I was staggerin' down round Moun
tain Cat Hill I runs right into the bron
cho that w*r picketed out into the grass,
and I war jist drunk enough to mount
him an' lite out. I know I'm goin' to
swing for it an' I'll die game, too. I ain't
worth a cuss anyway an' ef it warn't fur
my good old mother back in the States
(here the tears began to roll down his
bronzed cheeks) who never closes her
eyes 'thout prayin' fur God to send me
back to her, I'd laugh at death, en' help
ye to fix the rope, but when I think o'
that darling old soul I get weaker'n a
wounded antelope. I tell ye, fellers I,ve
bin a tuff cuss ever sense 1 struck out fur
these mountains, and I s'pose the world'll
be better 'thout me in it. My old moth
er'll suffer, I know that, for I'm her only
kid, an' hev sent her every ounce o' dust
that I could spare an* it's all she's hed to
live on. She's pin a good 'un to me God
bless her, an' I'm sorry I hevn' lived so's
1 can camp with her up thar (raising his
tearful eyes torwrrd Heaven,) and, boys,
won't some o' ye write to her? Tom
Kirk thar knows whar she lives, and tell
her I got let out by an Injun, or pegged
out naturally. For God's sake don't let
her know I wur st/angled. The news 'ud
kill her. But then Til cheese this gab
or ye'll think I'm weakening, an' the man
don't live as can skeer Tiger Jim. Ele
vate me, boys, jist as quick as ye please.
I'm ready when you are."
During the recital Jim's eyes were filled
with tears, and a close observer would
have detected silent wecp:ng on all sides.
Men who could face death in any shape
without a particle of feeling did not try to
hide their tears at the mention of that
sacred name, mother. How sweet it
sounded in their ears. It carried them
back to the happy days of the past, when
they were blessed with the love of
parents, before the insatiable love for
gold had led them into these mountain
wilds. Not a single word was spoken
for a few seconds, and then old Jacob
drew his horny hand across his watery
eyes and said in husky voice:
"Tige, ye wouldn break an oath,
"No, Job Dawson, not for friend or
foe. Jim never went back on even his
given word. I'm a rough 'an an' do sum
mitey wicket things, but when I say a
thing ye can gamble every dollar you've
got on it bcin' straight."
"Well, Tige we have intended to swing
ye, an' ye deserve swingin', but I can't
get rid that 'mother' chinin' ye give us.
I 'spect the old lady's set her heart on
seein' ye agin, an' tho' 1 hevn't sot eyes
on her sence '49 her picter's right hyar
in my heart, an' it's a pleadin' for your
'ooman, Tige. It's ruff, Tige, ruff, an'
lemme see—yes, darned ef I don't do it.
Jack, cut them ar strings so's he can git
his han's loose. Thar, thet's it. Now,
Tige, hold up yer right hand, and ef ever
ye swore strong do it now. Do you swar
by the great God, and yer blessed old
mother, that ef this court discharges ye
ye'l lite right out lor the States, an' go
hum to the old lady an' love her an'
comfort her as long as she stays out o'
heaven. Do you swar to this, Tige, be
fore Almighty God and this court
"Then ye're released on them terms,
and the boys'll help ye git ypr traps
down to the station, but mind, I tell ye'
Tige, ef yer ever caught in the hills agin
ye 11 go up to a tree. Fellers, the court's
over an' the prisoner's discharged."
The Peoele's Common Sense Medical Ad
viser, a book of about 900 pages, illustrrted
with over 250 engavings and colored plates,
and sold at the exceedingly low price ot $1.50,
tells you how to cure Catarrh, "Liver Com
plaint," Dyspepsia, or Indigestion, Sick, Bil
tious, and other Headaches, Scrofula, Bron
chial. Throat, and Lung Diseases all diseases
peculiar to women, and most other chronic as
well as acute disorders. It contains important
information for the young and old, male and
female, single and married, nowhere else to be
found. Men and women, married and single,
are tempted to ask their family physician
thousands ot questions on delicate topics, but
are deterred from doing so by then: modesty.
This work answers just such questions so fully
and plainly as to leave no one in doubt. It is
sold by Agents, or sent by mail (postpaid) on
receipt ot price. Address the author, £. V.
Pierce, M. D., World's Dispensary, Buffalo,
Prom the Lafayette Daily Courier.
A VALUABLE WOBK.
Dr. R. V. Pierce, of Buffalo, distinguished in
surgery, and the general practice in the pro.
fession he honors, has made a valuable con
tribution to the medical literature of the day,
in a comprehensive work entitled "The Com
mon Sense Medical Adviser." While Soientifio
throughout, it is singularly ire*from technical
and stilted terms. It comes right down to the
common sense of every-day life. Dr. Pierce is
a noble specimen of American manhood. He
has sprung from the people and, with many
sympathies in common with the masses, has
sought to render them a substantial service in
this the great work of his life.
SCHBRCK'S Piaxoinc STRUT. SEA WEBB TOX
IC AND MAXDRAKE PILLS.—These deservedly
celebrated and popular medicines have effect
ed a revolution In the healing art, and
Eroved the fallacy ot several maxiums which
ave for many years obstructed the progress01
medical science. The false supposition that
"Consumption is incurable" deterred phys
leans from attempting to find remedies for
that disease, and patients afflicted with it
reconciled themselves todeathwithout making
an effort to escape from a doom which they
supposed to be unavoidable. Itis now proved,
however, that Consumption can be cured, und
that it ha* been cured in a very great numb*
of cases (some of them apparently desperate
ones) by Schenok's Patau nie Svrupalone
and in other eases by the same medicine in
connection with Scbenuk's Sea Weed Tonic
and Mandrake Pills, one or both, according to
the requirements of the case.
Dr. Schenck himself, who enjoyed uninter
rupted good health tor more than forty yean,
was supposed, at one time to be at tae very
gate of death, his physicians having pro
nounced his case hopeless, and abandoned
him to his fate. He was cured by the afore
aid medicines, and, since his recovery, many
housands similarly affected have used Di.
Schenck's preparations with the same remark
Full ^directions accompany each, making it
not absolutely necessary to personally see
Dr. Schenck unless patients wish their
lungs examined, and for this purpose he is
professionally at his principal office, Corner
eiixth and Arch Sts., Philadelphia, every
Monday, where all letters for advice must be
addressed. Schenck's medicines are sold by
Soldier's Additional Land Claims
According to act Congress, June 8th,
1872, and the amendatorv acts thereto, all
honorably discharged soldiers who have serv
ed 90 days or more in the Union army, and
have homesteaded 40, 80, or 120 acres ot gov
ernment land prior to June 22, 1874, and made
final proof thereof, ate now entitled to an ad
ditional 40, 80, or 120 acres—enough when
added to the original entry to make 160 acres
—without residence thereon. The undersign
ed will pay the highest cash price for these
claims. Address Z. T. Hedge.-, Springfield.
Chapped hand", face, pimples, ringworm,
saltrheum,and othercutaneous affections cured,
and rough skin made soft and smooth, by
using Juniper Tar Soap. Re careful to get on
ly thnt made by Caswell, Hazzard & Co., New
York, as there are many imitations made with
common tar, all of which are worthless.
.,.THE greatest slaughter of prices ever seen in
Minnesota is now going on at the Boston One
Price Clothing Store, Minneapolis, on Over
coats, Underwear, Gloves and Mittens. Send
your size and get clothing with the privilege of
examining before paying. Everything war
SfeiRM !»?.rd«?yathonLe}, Terms Free. Addrei
WJ*91A! Q. STIKSON & Co.. Portland. Maine.
BtVOLVERS! IggflHS $3.00
CMalofw Fin. AAAnu WESTERN GUN XSOKKa^KAmTST
2 0 ?AFCY
£d\J Address.J. B. HUSTED. Nassau, CfcO?.
S Large commission to Agcpto. Send
stampforsamples. J,. V. Unxford, Brockton, Maes.
WANTED AGENTS.—Canvassers should secure terri
tory at once for THE LIFE and PUBLIC SERVICES OF
HENET WILSON, by Rev. Ettas Nason. For Terms ad
dress the publisher, B. B. Kussell, Boston, Mass.
A WEEK guaranteed to Male and Female
Agents, in their locality. Costs NOTHING
to trj it. Particulars free. P. O. VICK
ERY, & CO., Augusta, Maine.
STEES BROS. K^LiveT^
Feathers: Wholesale Agent* for McUlic Burial Cases.
Caskets, Wood Coffins, tlndertakers Trimmings, 4fcc.
LIGALL OBTAINED for incompatibil-
ity, etc. required. scandal avoided,
tee after decree. Address P. O. Box 284, Chicago, 111.
IVINS PATENT HAIR CRIMPERS.
Adopted by allthe Queensof Fashion. Sendforcircular.
E. Ivids, No. 2903 North Fifth street, Phlladelpeia, Pa.
RYDER, Commission Merchant for the
Purchase of Furs. Robes. Skins, Hides
Wool, Game, &c. Wholesale dealers in Newhouse Steel
Traps. Agent for Hazzard Powder Co. No. 55 Jackson
street, St. Paul. Send for circular. -acisson
THE CHICAGO LEDGER. $jnwJ&
and largerthan the New York Ledger. Always an illus
trated berial Story. A new story commences about
February 1. One year, postage paid, for «1.50. Samples
sent. Address THE LEDGER, Chicago, 111.
MASOS A A I From $75 to 1600, and sold
fi- A "IV monthly or quarterly
Vr XI, 1%. J.1 IO payments, or rented until
•the rent pays tor them. Burdctte Organs,Steinwayand
THE EVEHIHB STAR
1875, is the cheapest and best. Warranted to give
satisfaction or money refunded. Carpenters and
cabinet makers desiring steady work and good wages
send inour address. AtiEXT a W A E
HGABERLIX A BAKTLETT,
17 First Street. Minneapolis, Minn.
Wholesale and Retail.
A S A S A N E N S
N I S I N O O S
Ladies* and Children's Furs, lower than the lowest
74 Jackson Street, St. Paul.
All our remaining stock of
marked down to actual cost to close
thein out. Now is the time lor bargains.
43 KantThird Street, **t. Pawl, HUnn.
You would like to see a copy of the
In the country, send year
n»me and poatome* address to
THE IJEDGKB COMPACT, Chicago, m.«
8t P. N. V.
W Wfce» writteff a* Advertiser*
Pleaee amy jmu smw ffcertTertlaeaZewr