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XH2 PRIME OF LIFE. »hik dad sun'3 warmth and light! P'** my love, we'll wander, #*SrP the lurch shines green and brlg-ht |BSst the dim wood yonder. °,r/itinE shoots sprout so fast to-day, fwy 0 flak leaves are falling, %om the coppice faraway ,(hear the cuckoo calling. I 1 there among the high elm trees E.V thrush I sings where he settles EVe below, anemones |ut forth their blushing petals. not the poet tell how spring a yowng man's fancy? I,fso my heart turns, while I sing, Klove and you. my Nancy. #tep new charms does nature add, K.«beauties still discovers. Tmake this old world young and glad us, young, happy lovers. [,r5 i3 the joy the lark feels there Kming his song to madness. L. 'nk God that we are young, who share had feel the young year's gladness." Ln let our year3 be sad or gay. fwl be they few or plenty, I., sweetheart, we'll forget to-day !v, have been wed for twenty! Marshall Steele, in Black and White. A CLEW BY WIRE Or, An Interrupted Current. BY HOWARD M. YOST. Copyright, 1895, 5, by J. B. Lippincott Co. CHAPTER V.—CONTINUED. I The sound of the voice was intermit There would be a few words, (lien a pause, and so on. I could make losense of the few disjointed sentences, it lasted but a few minutes. Indeed, so lrjef was the conversation, if that is Lbat it was, there was no time to malce [a investigation. After a long" period of anxious listen hurl settled down again for sleep. And liien at last slumber came, it was troubled. Vague, shadowy dreams flit- led across my consciousness, and llirough them all was a sort of premo nition of future events, which seemed lohave a bearing upon the robbery. The next morning I was awakened by (he sun shining in my face. Hardly Ijirt I pot my eyes open and my senses (irnused to my new surroundings, when loiul and long-continued thumping i)ii the front door caused me to spring Lit of bed. Hastily donning a few gar ments, I went to the door and opene 1 it Mrs. Snyder was standing there, and in unmistakable look of relief came Iver her face when she saw me. "Aeh my! you schleep so sou 111 I vas limit somesing de matter!" she said. 'Jlreakfas' vas retty long dime alretty." "All right. I'll be right over and eat it." I replied. While I was dressing the recollection In? the strange voice of the last night Icamc to me. Now, in the broad glare of Ihe forenoon, when all mystery takes •light and the hallucinations of the p.rkness become trivial, I wondered if imagination had played me a trick. Bt seemed as though I had heard the Jvoicc in a dream, so unreal did the cir (tnmftance appear now. I «ras standing by the huge chimney. Ivhen again, breaking in upon my Thoughts, came the sound of that mys terious small voice. As on the night before, there were no tamplcted sentences only a word be Itseen pauses of various duration. The Jonndswere plainer, however not loud er, but more distinct. Here was a mystery indeed, one which Bid not choose only the shades of night (for its manifestations, but came in the •daytime, as though possessed of such •subtle and unaccountable qualities that [it might defy research. After the voice had ceased, and I con tinued my toilet, the sound of talking, looming from the walk outside, reached |ac. 1 glanced out of the window, and saw l&rah and Mrs. Snyder again in most (-tsirncst conversation. Somewhat surprised to see my old 1'iurse so early in the day, I called to |h»r: "Hello. Sarah! What's the trouble? piiat brought you here at this time?" "Aeh, Nel, bud I am glad to see you!" l*'io exclaimed. "I couldn't schleep all I'iflit." "Now. that was too bad," I said, p^hat kept yon awake?" "I vas thinkin' of you all alone in dis h'lt house, and so much strangeness (•'bond it,'' the good soul replied, with p' honest old face upturned to me. "That was very foolish. Nothing is l*°ing to happen to me," I said, lightly, I though I was not so sure of it now. ^hen I went outside the two women 1ere still talking, and there was an [''He-stricken expression on each face. I ^hat are you two superstitious old p"Is doing now?" I asked. -Hatching more mysterious tales?" ^,rs- Snyder gravely shook her head, |,!i though seriously condemning levity 'l suPernatural ey«T closed. subjects. Sarah rest- her hand on my arm, and gazed up r'1'0 my face. There was deep concern line of her countenance. you come wiz me," she said, I jading the way. I followed around 'c corner of the house, and she stopped ''"ore a window, the shutters of which v?re took!" she exclaimed, pointing to •,art* the shutters. "Mrs. Snyder says I' '.vas notdere yesterday." those of most Pennsylvania '"TOhouses, the downstairs windows frp provided with solid board shut- the center of this particular pair lvas a small round hole, from the edges a 'ew chips running with the I °f the wood were broken. It, 'Well, what of it?" I asked, hoping I ®t I could avoid giving an explana l-Wf'' '°r waa a trifle ashamed of my I ifor at my own reflection. I °°mep°dy shot through de shuttei IT? to kill you, maybe. It's a bullet »int it? Oh, Nel, didn't you hear l1v a Mrs. Snyder heard it from her l1*c, and she look out her vindow acd man nmnln' avav down de road. You can't btny here, Nel. Tou go home WJZ me." I could not forbear (a smile at Sa rah fears, but, remembering tliey were the consequence of the deep af fection she felt for me, I checked the frivolous reply which my tongue was about to utter. "Why, bless your dear old loving heart, Sarah," I said, taking hold of her arm, "come, I'll explain that, and when you know about it you'll luu"h at me." 0 The women went along into my room. ou see that window? You remem ber the shutters were always kept closed. Well, I had forgotten all about it .last night, and after I was undressed I saw my figure, clad in my white night robe, reflected from the glass. You ivomen must have made me somewhat nervous by your talk while making up my bed. Anyhow, I was a trifle fright ened at my own shadow, and fired a bul let at it. So, you see, no one tried to kill me at all. It was only my own fool ishness. of which I am heartily ashamed. Now let me get some break fast, and then we'll go all over the house to satisfy you there can be nothing in it which could do me harm." I said nothing about the voices I had heard, nor of the noise like the slam ming of a door. There was no use in adding to the inexplicable feeling of alarm which my old nurse felt. As for the man Mrs. Snyder had seen after the shot fleeing down the road, that was easily explained. If my house had the reputation of be ing haunted, it was most likely a passer by would have wings to his heels on hearing the report of a pistol about the place. After breakfast we went through the house. I noticed that all the windows wpro closed. Therefore it was no sudden gust of air that caused the slamming of a door. But nothing was discovered which would give one reason to suppose there was anything unusual about the place. We finally came to the attic, and I looked out of one of the small win dows. first brushing away the curtain of cobwebs. From this height I could see over the orchards. On the brow of Sunset Ilill, about half a mile distant, was a large house, evidently quite new. It was a splendid structure for the country, and I fancied a wealthy resi dent of the city had discovered the beauties of Xelsonville and built liim a summer residence here. "Whose place is that over on Sunset Hill I asked. "Some rich man's from de city," Sa rah answered. "Do you know his name?" I contin ued. moved by curiosity. "Veil. I did know. Aeh, vhat is it. now? I forget eferysing soon," Sarah replied. Here Mrs. Snyder chimed in: "His name is Morley." "What?" I exclaimed, in amazement. "Morley? Sylvester Morley?" "I ton't know his first name," the old widow answered. "Has lie a daughter? Is she here?" "Yes, and she so fine and prout. Aeh, and so pretty! Yes, she is here. Dey live here now in de summer," continued the old lady, glad for the opportunity of imparting news. "I see dem almost efery day. Dey drife by. And him, de man, aeh. vhat a fine shentleman! So tall and straight, such a fine peard, and he looks so prout, too!" The garrulous old widow's descrip tion satisfied me. My heart beat rap idly. I had come into this secluded place with no thought further from my mind than that I should find Miss Mor ley here. Was there a design of fate in this? And—was she still my true love? Per haps I should see her but I remem bered my determination and my prom ise to her father, and how far I still was from removing the condition im posed on the renewal of our friendship, and, I hoped, our love. This afterthought filled me with an impatience to commence some kind of investigation on my own hook. I had had a short interview with Mr. Perry, the president of the bank, just before my departure for Europe. It had been most unsatisfactory to me. for Mr. Perry was able to hold out no hope of immediate relief. He was just as earnest, however, In advising me to still keep on my course of apparent in difference and do nothing in the way of a search myself. Since that interview six months had elapsed, and I had heard nothing from him. I now resolved to take the affair in my own hands. For to go on living, with Florence Morley so near to me, and still refrain from indulging in her sweet society, would simply be tor ture. "Come. Nel," Sarah finally said, breaking in upon my thoughts. "W haf not seen all yed." CHAPTER VI. When we were again standing in the main hall on the first floor, Sarah's last remark came to me. "We have been over the whole house, have we not? What more is there tft see?" I asked. "Aeh, Nel! liaf you forgot de place vou nlvays vanted to go to and ve vouldn't led you, because it vas damp and dark?" "That's so. You mean the cellar. "Yes, yes, to be sure. You vas lost vonst, and ve couldn't fint you for a long dime. Vhen ve did, you vas aschleep in de cellar." "Well, come along. Let us have a look at it." I said, eagerly. The noise like a •lamming of a door had seemed to come from below. Perhaps I should discover the cause down there. On opening the door leading down from the dining-room, a musty odor as sailed my nostrils. It is peculiar how the sense of smell brings back to one old associations and memories. I recollected that musty odor perfectly, and it brought back the days of boyhood mere vividly than any thing else had done. We descended the stairway, and found the cellar bare and empty. I peered into every dark nook and cor ner, but there was nothing which could have caused the noise. "Nothing to be seen here, Sarah," I said. "Maybe we can find something of interest in the old storeroom." My grandfather, in his latter days, had kept the village store and post office. The house was built on the side of a small hill, so that it was three stories, high on the street side and two in the rear. The cellar was divided into two apart ments by a thick •wall of £tone. One apartment was used for the house sup plies. The other section was in turn divided in two, the front faeing on the street serving as the store and post office, the rear, a deep, cavernous, un derground room, having been used for the storage of barrels of vinegar, mo lasses, tobacco and dried fruit. We descended the open stairway lead ing down to the storeroom from the main hall. The door was at the bot tom, and at first I thought it was locked. Upon closer examination, I dis covered that it had only become tightly jammed by a slight settling of the sur rounding timbers. A few vigorous kicks soon caused it to open, and we stepped down into the room. The shutters to the windows were closed, but there was above the door leading to the street a small transom. Through the dust and moisture-be grimed glass a few rays of light pene trated, producing a twilight gloom in the apartment, but not so deep that wc were unable to see. One of the old counters still remained, and scattered over the floor were a few empty boxes and barrels. I thought of the white-haired old man whose form had been so familiarly associated with the room, and I glanced over to the corner with a fancy that he was here still, seated behind the desk. "Vliy. vhere's de door gone?" Sarah cried out. in tones of excitement. "What door, Sarah?" "Nel, you know, 3 011 remember. T)er used to he a door to de store cellar, and now dere ain't any." Sarah was right. There had been a doorway, through which I had stolen many times for the purpose of filling my pockets with raisins and dried fruit. There was none now. The wall of solid masonry confronted us. It really seemed a matter of very little importance, but Sarah kept up excited exclamations about it, until I finally stopped her. "Why, Sarah. I don't see anything very strange in the walling up of a cellar *nd aha ao flu* and prout. doorway. No doubt Mr. Sonntag, my lawyer, had it done. I remember the place was dark, damp and unhealthy. He thought It best to have it closed up, perhaps. There was another door from that cellar leading outside, was there not?" "Yes. right unter your betroom vin dow," Sarah answered. "Well, that can be easily broken down if you want to get in the place. But what would be the use of all that trouble? I don't want to use the cel lar." But then I remembered the noise which had seemed to come from be neath my bedroom, and the cause of which I was unable to discover through out the rest of the house. "We might take a look at the other door," I finally said, reflectively. We ascended the stairway and went around the house. Thick vines, reach ing to my bedroom window, completely hid the outside cellar door. I parted the vines, and found again the solid foundation wall. This door way had also been walled up. Sarah was so greatly impressed by this new discovery that her excited ex clamations broke out anew, and she again began to plead with me to leave the place. Again I sought to quiet her fears by laughing at her, although it did seem a trifle strange that my agent should have walled up the doorways. I was sat isfied he had had it done, and I won dered what his reasons could have been. Perhaps, after all, Mrs. Snyder was right in affirming that there were mys teries 'about the old house. Perhaps this walled-up cellar was the seat of supernatural demonstrations, and my agent had sealed it up for that reason. "I do not intend to lose any sleep over it," I said, lightly. "Sonntag must have had good reasons for doing this, and I can easily find out what they were by driving over and seeing him. I want to have a talk with him, anyhow." Here the rumble of wheels reached my ear. As I glanced down the road way and saw the appreaching turnout, why did my heart beat faster and a dimness cloud my sight Mrs. Snyder had also glanced in that direction. "Veil, now look, Mr. Nel," she began, excitedly. "You can see yourself how dey look. Dey is coming. Dat is de Morleys." My heart had given me the informa tion before the widow's tongue. There were two persons in the light road-wagon which vas being whirled toward us at a rapid rate by the spir ited horses. I could not be mistaken in the graceful poise of the head and the general outline* of beauty about the young lady, nor in the grave dignity of the man. The carriage swept along. When nearly opposite us, the young woman evidently caught sight of the group standing back from the roadway, for she leaned forward and sent a glance past her father toward 11s. I saw, even though my sight was dimmed by emo tion, her face turn pale and her eyes ex pand. She gave 110 ether sign of rec ognition, however, and the carirage swept by. And this was all. After a year of sep aration, si year of longing and home sickness, I was greeted with a stare by the girl who had declared she would ai wnys trust and believe in me. I watched the wagon until a bend in the road hid it from view, and then still looked toward the spot where it had disappeared. A touch on my arm recalled my thoughts, and I glanced around into the solicitous face of my old nurse. "I guess de young voman is putty," said Mrs. Snyder. "Aeh, and you dink so, too, Mr. Nel." "Yes, she is beautiful, very beauti ful," I murmured, more to myself than for answer to the widow's clumsy at tempt at pleasantry. Sarah's watchful old eyes and the promptings of her affection for me dis cerned something more in the fixed gaze I had sent after the wagon than a suddenly awakened admiration. "Vhat is id, Nel Do you know her?" the good soul asked, anxiously. "I'll tell you some time," I answered. Yes, yes beautiful indeed was Flor ence, lovelier than ever, and good and true—well, I did not seem to feel so sure of her faith. She had passed me by without extending a salutation. I could not blame her for not recognizing me, after the resolve I had made, but it cut me to the heart, nevertheless. ITO BR CONTINUED.! TEARS WERE FORBIDDEN. A Xote to Quit Meant That the Type writer Waf to Go. She was a dainty little thing, and the old gentleman seemed to be prepos sessed in her favor right from the start, but there was evidently something that made him pause. "Look here," he said, in his blunt fashion, "I like you and your references are all right. You run the typewriter as if you knew all there is to know about it, and you don't look like a girl who would be sick every third day and want to get away an hour or two early all the rest of the time, but before I engage you I want to have a clear un derstanding with you on one subject." "Yes, sir," she replied, looking at him inquiringly. "OY course," he explained, "1 expect you will be perfectly satisfactory, but if you are not there must be no doubt about my right to discharge you." "Certainly not." "If I want you to go I'll just have one of the clerks put a note on your desk or leave it with the cashier for you, and vou're to take that as final." "Naturairy," she said, looking at him in some surprise. "You're not to enter any protest or file any objections," he persisted, "axid most of all, you're not to weep." "Why, I suppose 1 can ask you why—" "You can't ask me a thing," he broke in. "If you get a note asking you to quit you're just to put on your things and walk out without a whimper of any kind. Is that understood?" "It is," she replied. "Have I your promise to live up to that agreement?" "You have. But it is such- an ex traordinary request that I—I—" "Young woman," said the old gentle man, impressively. "I've been in busi ness here for 50 years, and up to the time women got a good foothold in the business world I was in the habit of engaging and discharging clerks as seemed to me best from the st a nil point of my business. I11 an unguarded moment, however, I was induced to hire a young woman to run a typewriter fcr me.andafterlfoundthat she wasn't sat isfactory to me it took me over eig^ht weeks to discharge her. I left a note on her desk and she promptly came in and wept on mine. I turned the job over tc various subordinates, but each time she came into my private office to do her weeping, and inside of a week she had the whole force wrought up to a point where business was being neglected, and she was still drawing salary just the same. Women in business may be all right, but when it comes to getting her out of business somebody else can have the job. However, if you'll make a solemn promise to go without a single weep if you don't suit, I'll try you."— Chicago Post. A Stickler for Realism. Some amateurs in a provincial town gave a theatrical performance. Just before the curtain went up the utar actor took the manager aside and said to him: "Now, look here I don't propose to drink water instead of wine in the drinking scene in the second act. I want wine—genuine wine. The unities must be preserved. We want, to make this play as realistic as possible." "Oh, j*ou want champagne at 15 shil lings a bottle, do you?" "Yes. Everything must be realistic." "All right," replied the manager. "In the second act you shall have real wine, and when you take poison in the last act you shall have some real poison. I'll see that you don't complain of the play not being realistic enough. How does prussic acid strike you?"—London Answers. H'kei Pklebotomr Was Favor. In former days, when medical men believed in phlebotomy for nearly all hurts and diseases. King Louis Phillippe of France carried a lancet in his pocket, and occasionally bled himself. On one occasion, when a man was run over by the royal coach, the king bled the un conscious victim with his own handa. Such treatment now would probaMjr lead to a iu]| lv damage*.—Chicane Chronicle. OPENING AN ACCOUNT. Woman in" a Bank (or the First Time Milken Trouble. "A woman opening a bank account fortlic first time is a peculiar creature," said one of the clerks in a national bank. "One came in a few days ago and glanced around^ suspi ciously. Then she ambled up to the window and said: 'If you please, I want to deposit some money.' 'Yes'in just go to the next window.' "She stepped over in a careful way, as if she was breaking some rule or other, and, al most in a whisper, said: 'Is this where they deposit money?' 'Yes, ma'am. Do you wish to open an account?' 'Oh, no,' she said. 'I don't want to have anything charged. just want to deposit uiy money. Is this batik really safe?' "She was assured that it was. 'This bank is as firm as Gibraltar, madam. You have come to the light place. W will have to liave your autograph, .lust write your name light there.' 'Oh, 1 can't write witllout a stub pen. Haven't you got a stub pen and some nice violet ink?' "She was fitted out, and in the most care ful way^ imaginable she wrote out her full name. Then she was provided with a de posit book, which she looked at in an in quiring way. She produced her money, hung 011 to it for a minute, and then handed it in, all rolled up and tied with a thread. The receiving teller counted it in a rapid wav and threw it in with the other receipts. r'' 'Now,' she said, 'this ain't a good bank. You've just gone and thrown my money in with all the rest, and you can never pick it out again. Take your old book and give me my money. And scratch my name oft that big autograph album. Mother said you couldn't tell anything about a bank.' '"She was given her little roll, the auto graph was scratched off and the deposit ticket destroyed. She flounced out in a de cisive way, as much as to say: "They can't cheat me, if I am a woman.' "—Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. MISTAKE IN DELIVERY. Customer I*oat liec«iu»e of the Mer elinnt'M Verautility. Queer things happen in suburban towns, where the residents have a way of utilizing means at hand utterly regardless of the con sequences. Mrs. Stimpson, a notable house wife who lives in one of these terrestrial paradises, recently replenished her stock of household furniture at the only depart ment store in the place and ordered the purchases sent home that afternoon when she would be there to receive them. She was in a particularly happy frame of mind as she sat at her front window watch ing for their arrival, remarking with satis faction the vacant places the new furniture would adorn, when an undertaker's wagon drove up and stopped in front of her door and a solemn looking driver in rusty black descended from the front seat and rang her bell. She did not lose a moment in raising the window and calling to him in a fright ened voice: "Go away! You've stopped at the wrong house! There isn't any body here!" "I don't want a body, ma'am, I've got some tilings I was told to leave here," called the man. "Take them back!" she commanded, "I tell you I won't have tliem! You ought to be ashamed to stop here! What do you sup pose the neighbors will think?" "Well, ma'am." said the man, as he climbed 011 his wagon again, "'it you don't want your new furniture, all light, but I've got it inside." "And 1 wouldn't take it as a gift," said the distressed woman "the idea of bringing my goods in an undertaker's wagon." "We hadn't another vehicle in the barn and you said you wanted it light oft'," re sponded the man as he drove away. Hut the man of many callings who had utilized the last conveyance in his establish ment lost the sale of the furniture and the good will of a customer who did not appre ciate such mortuary enterprise.—Chicago Times-Herald, Another Illnl. The following story proves what hardly needs proving, that a man may handle books without being a scholar. It wasn't in the book stall of a department store it was in a real bookstore a bookstore, moreover, where you would expect to find salesmen who know books. A friend of mine went in the other day and asked for Pope's "Iliad." The salesman went away to look for it.. Presently lie returned with a book in his hand. "We haven't Pope's'Iliad,' "he said, "but we have an "Iliad." It's by Homer, though."—Washington Post. memory grew BURY, Pratt, Kansas. OPIUM WOMEN DO NOT TELL THE WHOLE TRUTH. Modest Women Evade Certain Questions When Asked by a Mala Physician, but Write Freely to Mrs. Pinkham. An eminent physician says that "Women are not truthful, they will lis to their physicians." This statement should be qualified women do tell the truth, but not the whole truth, to a male physician, but this is only in regard to those painful and troublesome disorders pecu liar to their sex. and Whisker H»WI cured at home witnoiit v* Fm from Catarrh Surprised at the Wonderful Cura tive Power of Hood's Sarsaparilla. I have taken Hood's Sarsaparilla for catarrh and bronciual trouble and have been surprised at its wonderful curative properties. I am now entirely free from both these complaints, and heartily recom mend Hood's Sarsaparilla for catarrh." A. G. SAM AX, Clark Mills, Wisconsin." Hood's Sarsaparilla Is the best—in fact the One True Blood Purifier. Hood's Pills act easily, effectively. 25c. TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF. Jack Waa Maklns Money In Ways of His Own Cbooalng. "Why don't you give that son of yours a chance?" asked one business veteran of an other. "lie must inherit some of your su perior business qualities and the time will come when you must have some one to look after your affairs. He can't manage them without the necessary training." "Don't you suppose that I have canvassed the whole situation? I have let that boy handle a small fortune, and the results have been so unsatisfactory that I havegiven him formal notice to look out for himself." "Hut he seems to have plenty of money." "That's another thing I don't like. I have cut oft' his allowance, yet he lives well and never enters a complaint. Last spring thought I would have to put up the office blinds for want of readj* cash. My collater als were not available and creditors were pushing me. The bov walked into the office one afternoon when twas in the throesof de spair, said: 'Things lookin'blue, governor?' laid down a certified check for $20,000 and walked out. 1 owe him that yet, but am holding it back till I can see that he needs it. When gave him money to buy wheat and told him how the market was liable to go, he ignored my advice and bought mil lions of eggs right in the midst of hot weather, mind you. On learning where they were stored I notified the health depart ment and requested some of those in the vi cinity to bring proceedings when the nuis ance asserted itself. I learned incidentally afterward that he had a patent process for preserving eggs and cleared up a big pot of money. Wheat hadn't gone the way I pre dicted. but it was his business to do as 1 told him. Recently he made 815,000 at some shooting game. 1 don't know Just what it was, but one of his friends said that Jack had taken a long shot at a horse and won. I hope the rascal had to pay for the horse."— Detroit Free Press. HOLIDAY UXC'UKSIOSS. South anil Eoxt. On December 7 and 21 the Rig Four Route and Chesapeake & Ohio railway will sell excursion tickets from all points northwest, both one way and round trip, at greatly re duced rates to points in Virginia, North and South Carolina and other southern states. Round trip tickets will be good twenty-one days returning. Write for particulars and pamphlet descriptive of Virginia farm lands. U. L. Truitt. Northwestern Passenger Agent, 2:U (.'lark St.. Chicago. Trouble for Both. He—Oh, of course, dear, it is all right for you to cat onions if you like them, and I'm not the one to stop you but, I declare, it's hard work to stand it. She—Well, 1 don't blame you, Harry, for after 1 eat them I can hardly stay wliere I am myself.—Judge. An l'p»to-Oate Twist. She—What is love? He—Two saddles with but a single frame: two sprockets that turn as one.—.Judge. Many actresses seem to favor long engage ments and short marriages.—Chicago New-*. Disfigured from a bruise? No not When St. Jacobs Oil cures it. No chance. The rattlesnake never shrinks from dan ger. It simply recoils.—Chicago News. A big investment for a workingman is St. Jacobs Oil. It cures rheumatism. A boy is never too trifling io learn to whistle real loud through his fingers. When did you arrive—not to know St. Jacobs Oil will cure a sprain right off. There can be no more terrible ordeal to a delicate, sensitive, refined woman than to be obliged to an swer certain questions when those questions are asked, even by her family physician. This is espe cially the case with unmarried women. This is the reason why thousands and thousands of women are now corresponding with Mrs. Pinkham. To this good woman they can and do give every symptom, so that she really knows more about the true condition of her patients through her correspondence than the physician who per sonally questions them. Perfect confidence and candor are at once established between Mrs. Pinkham and her patients. Ytnrs ago women had no such recourse. Nowadays a modest woman asks help of a woman who understands women. If you suffer from any form of trouble peculiar to women, write at once to Mrs. Pinkham, Lynn, Mass., and she will advise you free of charge. And the fact that this great boon which is extended freely to women by Mrs. Pinkham, is appreciated, the thousands of letters which are received by her prove. any such grateful let ters as the following are constantly pouring in: I was a sufferer from female weakness for about a year and a half. I have tried doctors and patent medicines, but nothing helped me. 1 underwent the horrors of local treatment, but received no benefit. My ailment was pronounced ulceration of the womb. I suffered from in tense pains in the womb and ovaries, and the backache was dreadful. I had leucorrhoca in its worst form. Finally I grew so weak I had to keep my bed. The pains were so hard as to almost cause spasms. When I could endure the pain no longer I was given morphine. My short, and I gave up all hope of ever getting well. Thus I dragged along. At last I wrote to Mrs. Pinkham for advice promptly. I read carefully her letter, and concluded to try Lydia E. Rnkham Vegetable Compound. After taking two bottles I felt much better, but after nsiSr six bottles I was cured. My friends thmk my cure almost miracuW Iler noble work is surely a blessing to mitn. Bo«»k of particulars sent FKEfi. 8. M. WOOLKKT. M.D., Atlanta, Ga« "SSf Wf Her answer came broken-down women. -GRACE B. STAM- DROPSY cases. Send for book of testimonials trcaMMMfrcc. •». illlftil V. ||f JMTED—Men and women agents sell Wtoshes direct from tacmry. pie. Address *W«" *i is •y iS IS VH el® 1,1,1 A. N. K.-G 1684