The Lexington advertiser. [volume], March 10, 1904, Image 2

About The Lexington advertiser. [volume] (Lexington, Miss.) 1904-1985

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The Lexington Advertiser
IUE ADVERTISER PI B. CO., Pu blish#if.
LEXINGTON, : : MISSISSIPPI,
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\J YOUNG
SCUNDLING'S
EXPERIENCE
—0
T is not probable that young Scund
ling ever gambled in his life before
unless, perhaps, at school he played
marbles for "keeps." He was a well
conducted and industrious young man
—punctual in his attendance at the of
fice and with a good capacity for Dusi
ness. His salary was small and the
consciousness of this made him carry
his natural modesty to an extreme, but
he lived within his means and even
put a trifle aside for a rainy day. That
was Scundling.
The way it came about was that
Plimson, the out-of-town order clerk,
had come into possession of a one
fifth ticket of the Honduras Lottery
company (guaranteed by the Honduras
government). He had invested two
dollars in this security, but as it was
nearing the end of the week and his
finances were at a low ebb he proposed
to make up a pool of eight among his
fellow employes, which would bring
his and their interests to the modest
amount of 25 cents each, which seemed
less like plunging. Scundling shook
his head at first when Plimson made
the proposal, but when it appeared
that his 25 cents was absolutely needed
to make up the pool he handed over
the coin with the remark that a fool
and his money were soon parted.
"Oh, I don't know," said Plimson.
"That ticket may rake off the capital
prize and that wouldn't seem so fool
ish. Two hundred thousand dollars
isn't found growing on every bush."
"You're mistaken," said Scundling.
"The bushes are full of 'em. There's
millions all around us inviting us to
gather 'em in—only they've got a little
string to 'em. I don't expect to get
that quarter back, but 1 guess 1 can
afford to lose it."
"Make a note of the number, any
way," said Plimson. "I may try to
switch it on you. If that isn't a lucky
one there's no virtue in nines—four of
'em, d'you see? Nine to begin with and
then eight and one, nine; seven and
two, nine, and five and four, nine.
See?—9817254."
"Nine million chances to four that
you lose," said Scundling.
The drawing was to be three weeks
later and Scundling promptly forgot all
about it. He had plenty of other
things to think of, the chief in impor
tance being Mabel. Matters were not
going well there. Mabel herself was
as sweet as ever and gave him no un
easiness, but Mabel's father was get
ting worse and worse. He had never
thought favorably of Scundling as a
suitor for his daughter's hand, main
taining that the young man was what
he termed a stick-in-the-mud. "I don't
hold it out against him that he's poor,"
he said. "I was poor myself once—
poorer than Job's turkey—but 1 wasn't
satisfied to plug along that way and
that chap seems to be. He may be
saving, but he's holding down the
same job at the same wages he was
three years ago, when he first came
mooning around. That doesn't look
well."
So he took a decidedly unfriendly
attitude toward poor Scundling, who
was doing the very best he could, and
went the length of telling him a week,
after the 1 lottery-ticket purchase that
he would better cease his visits to the
house until his prospects looked a lit
tle rosier—and Scundling dejectedly
acquiesced.
Scundling was sitting in his rooms
one evening meditating upon his un
happy lot when the insidious demon of
chance suddenly whispered in his ear
and he straightway extracted from his
pocketbook a slip of paper on which
was written the figures 9817254 and
looked at them with a dawning inter
est. What if the number should prove
to be the winning one! There really
was a chance of it after all. Some
number had to win. If it was a swin
dle at least it would occur to the swin
dlers that it would be well to allow
one "Yankee" to win, if only to en
courage the others. He had heard that
common card sharpers pursued that
policy. Then the magic nines—but
that was a superstition, of course.
Scundling sat there for perhaps an
hour regarding that slip of paper, and
by the time he put it back in his
pocket he had acquired what the vul
gar term a "hunch."'
In the course of a few days the
"hunch" developed Into an absolute
certainy. Scundling had figured out
that his share of the prize would be
$5,000. Well, he had that $5,000 as
good as in the bank. It was all over
but the drawing. As beseemed such a
capitalist, his manner took on a cer
tain dignity and self-assurance which
before had been lacking. His face
grew brighter as he felt himself re
lieved from the anxious thought of
struggling for years on small means
and his air more generally alert. A
large part of his burden of modesty
slipped from him and his courage rose
to such an extent that he decided to go
and see Mabel.
He had enjoyed a delicious half-hour
with her. tete-a-tete, in the familiar
back parlor before her father entered.
Scundling, however, instead of appeal
ing embarrassed, greeted him him with
a confident and cheerful hearing that
seemed to take the old gentleman
somewhat aback. Instead of the ex
plosion Mabel and Scundling expected
he merely said to the young man: "I'd
like to see you a few moments when
you can spare the time."
"All right," said Scundling, prompt
ly, "I'll go with you now." And he
followed his prospective father-in-law
into another room.
"Well," said Mabel's father, "I
thought I told you to keep away."
"Until I had some better prospect*,"
Mid Scundling, still sustained by his
absurd delusion. "Well, 1 have."
"May I ask what.they are?"
"I don't (hlnk I'd be justified in tell
you at the present moment," said
Scundling. "but I think Inside of two
weeks I'll be able to satisfy you."
"Well," said the old gentleman, 'Tve
always given you credit for being
square, if you weren't a hustler, so 1
I
f
suppose you hare got some sort or
move on you. But I'll suggest that you
keep away until you are at liberty
tel! me, all the same." He held out
hand in a more friendly manner than
he had ever shown and said "Good
night," and Scundling went back
Mabel. "I'll take this evening, any
way," he said, to her father. "Then
I'll keep away for two weeks if it will
make you feel easier."
"Something's happened to him," said
the old gentleman, when he had recov
ered from the shock. "He's changed,
certainly, and I think for the better."
Much the same remark was made
Scundling's employers the next week
after Scundling had mady an astonish
ing demand for the position of cashier
—no less—which he hat^ been filling
temporarily during the illness of the
50-year-old incumbent. He said he un
derstood that Mr. Dobsey was not
going to return and that the firm was
looking for somebody to take his place.
The firm admitted it—but
"Of course, I wouldn't have applied
otherwise," said Scundling, coolly.
"But it seemed to me that I could do the
work better than an outsider, and
since 1 have taken hold of it I have
seen where several radical changes
might be made in the present system
that would be to the firm's advantage.
I'll just outline them to you now."
He took a pencil and a pad of paper
and proceeded to a demonstration
his plans, and in about a minute the
two members of the firm were hanging
over his shoulder in undisguised inter
est. When he had concluded they
looked at each other.
"Well," said the senior, "we'll take
these matters under consideration,
Mr. Scundling. Your idea may not be
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MEDITATING UPON HIS UNHAPPY
LOT.
a bad one, but—well, this would be
quite a jump in promotion for you."
"I haven't taken any of that exercise
for some time," said Scundling, "and it
might do me good."
"Well, well, we shall have to think
this over," said the senior partner. As
Scundling went out he turned to his
associate. "Did you think that boy
had it in him?" he asked.
"I didn't," said the partner. "Until
very lately I thought he was a good
plodder—but with no snap to him.
He's changed.''
A week later the drawing of the Hon
duras lottery was announced and
Scundling's air castles came tumbling
down with a crash that nearly over
threw his reason. He came out of the
ordeal with a bitter realization of his
folly, but with all hope crushed out of
him for the time. When he thought of
Mabel he was in despair and at the
idea of his presumption in applying
for Mr. Dobsey's place he blushed to
the tips of his ears. One morning he
went to the office and saw a new man
at his old desk and his heart sunk. At
the same moment he was called into
the partners' room and informed that
the firm had decided to give him the
position he had applied for at what
seemed a magnificent increase of sal
ary.
When the wedding took place the
bride was observed to be wearing a
most peculiar breastpin. It was of
blue enamel and in pearls thereon ap
peared the mysterious numbers 9817254.
It was presented to her by the groom.
"It will remind me that if a man
wishes to succeed he doesn't want to
trust to chance, but lo his own exer
he said.—Chicago Daily News.
THE OLD WELL.
"And David longed, and said: 'Oh, tliat
e drink of the
ould give
the wi ll of Beth'lehem, w
gate.' "—11, Samuel, 2'i. Id.
a ter of
one
hieh is beside the
It seems just like Ttiz yesterday,
younker o' thirteen—
One-gallused, freckled, full o' play
Th' boy-est Boy you ever
A-rompln' over all th' town
An' gettin' hot up tit to HIM,
Then takin' time to «tm
An'
seen!
down,
At that or well by Mitchell'* mll'l.
Remember it? Th' shaky pump
'lth water drippin' from th' spout,
Or gushin', when—kalump! kulump!—
We'd almost pull th' handle out!
We'd get a cup full
An', sa,
It makes
How it 'ud splatter
' we'd drink—
y, but it was cold an' sweet!
young ugain to think
my (tel.
time he paid
th' bust on earth.
An' any man wfc>se thirst 'use fed
'lth it 'ud get his money's worth.
Yes, sir—th* best! VV'y, even yet
plain-
An' he had traveled—don't forget!
From California plum to Maine.
W'y, Ki! Dunlap.
That water wt
hear him aayln it.
Wellwater nowadays—But. pshaw!
They ain't none now that fills th' bill.
1 never drunk an' never saw
As good fls that at Mitchell's mill.
An' w hen I think o' how J uset
' go to wa?*te,
To let it run
My thirstiness is all unloosed
An' I fair shrivel for a taste!
- W. D. N., in Chicago Daily Tribune.
TO PAY BICYCLE TAX 50 YEARS.
Enforcement of Parln Law Bring* to
Light an I nunual State of
Alfnlrn for Owner*.
Enforcing the law regarding the tax
ation of bicycles In France has led tc
a curious state of affairs. When an
owner registers a bicycle he is given a
plate proving that the police tax was
paid. Until this plate Js returned to
the tax collector he is^stmposed to be
still the owner of the Wheel. When
selling the bicycle, and !eav>ng the
plate affixed, he Is liable to go on pay
ing for the machine that he has not
got for the rest of his natural life. A
recent case was that of a former owner
of two bicycles who had been paying a
tax for the last five years, and win go
on paying it for 50 years to come as 'ue
sold the machines forgetting to keep
the plates, and is now unable to show
them.
I
The Heart and Its Door
What It Means to Open the Door and Let Jesus Come In.
Sermon by the " Highway and Byway» Preacher.
(f
(Copyright, 1904 , by ]. M. Edsoo.)
Chicago, Sunday, Feb. 21.1904.
Text'.—"Behold. I stand at the door and
knock: If any man hear My voice and open
the door, I will come in to him, and will sup
with him. and he with Me."—Rev. 3:20.
ESUS a stranger
without, or Jesus
guest within—this
is the two-fold pic
ture our text gives
us. Jesus stand
cl
I
El
ing patiently, long
ingly, lovingly
t h e heart's door
and knocking,
knock
liT
knocking,
ihg; or Jesus sit
ting an honored
guest within the
heart, partaking
hospitality
Vy
V
• - <; h e
there offered, and then becoming
turn the gracious host and setting be
fore the soul a delectable feast of good
things fresh from Mis Father's store
house above. Jesus standing without
brings the shadow of a possible soul
tragedy, for irresistibly the question
springs forth for answer:
door be opened ere the waiting one
departs? or will it remain closed and
shut and barred forever? Jesus within
sharing in the feast brings the vision
of that larger, more glorious feast
around which the great company of the
redeemed are to gather some day in
the Father's House. "Behold!" saith
the Lord, and well may man eontem
plate all that, these two pictures mean.
Doors shut against the Son of God and
the Saviour of men. and doors opened
to give Him entrance. Before the shut
Will the
door Jesus stands patiently,
persistently and pleads lovingly.
Through the opened door Jesus enters
quickly and blesses richly. Shut doors
and opened doors. The shut doors hold
imprisoned within the sin-darkened
chambers of the heart the precious im
mortal soul, the opened doors admit
the Light of the world, and the thrill
of new life and hope is felt with the
Divine pretence.
knocks
HE heart a prison house or the heart
a guest chamber. The heart crowd
ed with the perishable things of this life,
or the heart making room for Christ and
the eternal riches which are found in
Him. The heart trying to find joy and
satisfaction In the things which the
world can offer, or the heart finding that
true joy and satisfaction which Heaven
alone can give. The heart listening to
the music of this life or the heart learn
ing the first strains of that Heavenly
music which will swell in ever increas
ing volume until it mingles some day
with that mighty chorus of the redeemed
in Heaven. The heart feeding on the
husks of this life and never being satis
fied. or the heart feasting on the Bread
of Life and having its hunger appeased.
The heart drinking the world's nectar
and never having its thirst quenched, or
the heart drinking the Water of Life
drawn from (he well of salvation and
finding it has become a satisfying
draught, springing up into everlasting
life. These are the tw o conditions which
we find, the one because the door is shut
against the knocking Saviour, the other
because the door isopened to admit Him.
Certainly these differences are startling.
They present contrasts as greafas that
between darkness and light, time and
eternity, death and life. And the differ
ence all arises because of the position of
the door to the heart, whether it is shut
or whether it is open; whether Jesus is
without or Jesus is within.
T
UR text is part of the appeal to the
back-slldden church of Laodicea,
which has become worldly and rich in
perishable gold, but which is "poor
and blind and naked" in the eyes
of God.
love and devotion to Its Lord, and be
cause It was "neither cold nor hot," the
Lord declares: "I will spew thee out of
my mouth." But following this declara
tion of rejection. Jesus goes on to plead
with the individual members of the
church to repent, for "Behold, I stand
at the door and knock; if any man hear
my voice, and open the door, I will come
In to him and will sup with him. and he
with Me." Jesus is dealing with the in
dividual. Primarily our text is ad
dressed to the back-slidden Christian.
Jesus has been crowded out of the heart
and the life by the "cares of this world
and the deceitfulness of riches," but He
longs to come back again, and so he
stands at the door and knocks for ad
mission. But it is equally true that He
seeks out the unsaved sinner and as per
sistently and lovingly knocks at the
door of his heart. To the one who has
never accepted Christ as Saviour, He
comes and pleads: "Behold, I stand at
the door and knock; If any man hear My
voice, and open the door, I will come in
to him. and will sup with him and he
with Me." And it is to such we want to
bring a message. We shall have a word
to say to the Christian who is keeping
His Lord without the chamber of his
heart where some pleasure, some ambi
tion, some sin Is being harbored, and In
dulged, but first of all we desire to pre
sent God's claim to the unsaved, to try
to bring them to see who Is standing
without their heart knocking for admit
tance, to endeavor to show them what
the shut door means and what the open
door.
0
It was lukewarm in its
1KST of all what is the door which
when shut proves an impassable bar
rier to Jesus? What is it that keeps
Jesus on the outside? What is It that
prevents His bringing the hope of salva
tion, and the joy of His presence Into the
heart and life? It is that tremen
dous something which we call the
"will." It has pleased God to en
dow man with such a faculty as
the will. And this will of man has the
power to lift him up to Heaven or cast
him down to hell. If the will shuts out
the Christ and declares that it does not
need Hflh and can get along without Him,
the sdul is rejecting God's claims and
losing its only hope of salvation and
eternal life. If the will is yielded to
the Christ, and He is permitted to
F
life, then does the soul begin to know
what Jesus meant when He said: "He
that believeth on the Son HATH eternal
life." The will is the door,
knocks, not that the will may be de
stroyed, bitt that it may swingopen, may
yield to Him and give Him entrance. So
many, many dear souls arc hindered by
the thought that to yield the will to
Christ means to lose the will entirely.
But never was there greater mistake
made, never did a soul misunderstand
God more, than when it believed that
a man loses his will and his personality
when he surrenders to God. When I
knock on the door to my home, it is not
with the intention of destroying that
door. I do not want it to open to me that
I may wrench it from its hinges and
throw it aside as useless and undesirable.
That door has a very useful function to
perform. It is absolutely necessary to
the completeness of the house. With
out it the house would be unsafe and un
inhabitable. And it is so with the will,
the door to the human heart. God real
izes more perfectly than do you that
that will is necessary,that it has a func
tion to perform which cannot be dis
pensed with. Without the will theheart
is unsafe. Jesus knocks not to con
demn, hut that He may come in and dig
nify and strengthen that, door, that He
may increase its usefulness. The will
Jesus
wlth Go(1 behin(] jt jfl a mighty factor
for good jn (he worId
,
Gve
The will with
God shut out is dangerous and destruc
, , , , , , „
has a ri " ht ,0 kno u ck for a(1 '
mitta f a ' F rs < " f f 11 b f ca,,se as
the created, work of God we belong to
Him.
I have a right to knock upon the
door of my home because it belongs to
me. It is my home, and, therefore, I
have indisputable right to knock, and
when I knock 1 expect to be admitted.
Jesus has a right to knock at the door
of your heart, because you belong to
Him by right of creation, and when
He knocks He has a right to expect to
be admitted. And in the second place
Jesus lias a right to knock for admittance
because of th^ need within that heart.
The heart may not be really conscious of
that need, but the need is there, neverthe
less. There is a degree of hunger which
becomes indifferent lo food and fails
longer to feel the gnawing pangs, And
the heart is often unconscious of and
indifferent to its need, but the need is
there. And Jesus has a right to knock
because of that need. In the home of
my neighbor is dire need. They are
without food and fire. I learn of the
sad condition, and because of the need
there, I have a right to go to my neigh
bor's door and knock for admittance. If
never before, at least now, 1 have per
fect right to knock. In fact, if I knock
not, 1 am cruelly and wickedly neglect
ful of my duty. And so It is with Jesus,
He has a right to knock. He must knock
because of the need within. But the
fact of the need within is not all the
warrant that is needed for knocking for
admittance. If curiosity brings me to
the door, if I knock because I wish with
prying eyes to witness the suffering, then
may my right to knock be questioned.
But if I come bringing supplies which
shall satisfy the needs then is my claim
of right to knock fully established. And
when Jesus comes to the heart and
knocks, it is not only because of the
need within, but because He is fully able
to supply that need. Jesus does come
to the human heart and knock for ad
mission. He is knocking at your heart
even now while these words are being
spoken, and He has a right to knock be
cause you are God's creation, because
your soul has an undying need, and be
cause He is abundantly able to supply
that need.
T HE door of the heart, then, is the
will, and Jesus has a three-fold
right to knock for admittance. This
right you cannot deny. Why then
does the door remain shut and barred
against Him? Perhaps you do not
hear the knock? Perhaps you do not
know who stands at the door? Per
haps you are not willing lo take down
the bars that keep the door from
swinging open? Jesus says: "Behold,
I stand at the dooi and knock: if any
man hear My voice, and open the door,
I will come in to him." Do you not
hear that knock, dear heart? Two
things may keep me from hearing the
knock upon my door. I may be away
from home, or other noises, and other
things may so occupy my attention
that I am not sensible of the knocking
on the door. When Jesus knocks, do
you fail to hear because you are away
from home? There was a time when you
used to hear His gentle knock, and His
tender voice of pleading, but now you
do not hear it any longer. You have
hardened your heart and your con
science has long since ceased to be
sensitive, because you have so often
refused its message. Your heart's door
docs not feel the touch of Jesus as He
continues to knock, the telegraph line
of your conscience no longer carries
uninterrupted the message to your
mind. In a certain and awful sense
you are not at home. You remember
how you used to be at home when Je
sus knocked. You refused to hear and
respond, not once, but many, many
times, yea, even scores of times, and
gradually the tender heart has become
the hard heart and the sensitive eon
science hus become the seared con
science. You are no longer at home.
You do not hear the knock or the
voice. But Jesus is standing there
still, He Is still waiting to come in.
P ERHAPS you do not hear the
knocking of Jesus, and fall to rec
ognize His voice because the noise and
bustle of this life deadens your ear to
the Heavenly message? I remember
once going to the house of a friend and
knocking for admittance. The noise
of merry-making reached my ear, but
my knock was not heard. The chil
dren were having a party and were
romping and laughing and talking so
that, rap as loudly as I could. I was
unable to make my presence known.
And there I stood knocking, and with
in were the friends I wished to see en
that I at the
door. They did not hear my knock be
cause of the noise within.
should have been standing there yet,
, at * » i . u
perhaps, or at least I would have
stood there until the party was over,
if some one had not opened the door
io admit some fresh alrand discovered I
And do<* this not illustrate
strikingly one reason why the knock of
Jesus is not heard? The noise of the
worldly pleasures and activities, the
rush to grtjiify the personal desires
and ambithJns, drown all other sounds.
, . , I, j , , .
Jesus kno/k and Jesus voice are not
heard. Bui Jesus is there. He is
waiting lo come in. Sometimes
some sorrow, some misfortune, some
catastrophe brings a hush, and then
the knock is heard. The recent awful
And I
was (here.
theater tragedy in Chicago brought a
solemn, death-like, hush over the city.
The most careless and frivolous and
indifferent were made to pause and
think of the more serious side of life;
they were made to realize that it was
not all of life to live or death to die.
And as people were checked in the
rapid rush of modern life and the
headlong race after pleasure, the
knock of Jesus was heard. He wanted
to come and change the current of life
so that it would flow Godward, and
many, thank God, when they heard
the knock opened the door and let Je
sus come in. But others would not,
and Jesus stands without, still knock
ing, knocking, knocking. Why is the
door not opened? it may be because
you do not realize Who is there, or
because you have not withcrawn the
bars which are holding the door shut.
O you realize that Jesus, the King,
stands at your heart's door knock
ing? The story is told of Peter the
Great, of Russia, who was fond of
dressing in peasant garb and going
among his people, that, one day he
knocked at the door of a house and
was refused admittance and turned
away. What was the distress and alarm
of the people in that house when they
realized that they had turned away the
king. If they had only realized that
it was their king, they would have re
ceived him with open arms. And oh,
soul! if you would only realize it, the
Saviour Who is knocking at your heart
is the King of kings and the L,ord of
lords. Those two men who walked
from Jerusalem to Emmaus did not real
ize that the stranger who met them
was Jesus, but when they invited Him
in to abide with them their eyes were
opened and they knew Him. And it
will be so with you. You do not realize
that it is Jesus knocking at your heart.
You know there is an unsatisfied long
ing, the sense of a lack which this
world cannot supply. You have a con
ciousness within your inmost heart of
a need which only God can fill. It is
Jesus knocking. You do not realize
Who it is that Is there. You do not
understand what it means. But just
open the door and invite the stranger
in, and you will soon learn as He sups
with you and you with Him that it is
your Saviour and your King Who has
been seeking admission.
D
UT the bars may be up and you do
not want, to take them down to let
the door open for Jesus. There is the
bar of pride. Ah! bow pride some
times keeps the heart door shut and at
last closes the very gate of Heaven
against the soul. Pride keeps the knee
from bending; pride keeps the head
erect; pride keeps the lips shut tight.
The proud heart cannot come into
God's presence, or, as James puts it,
"God resisteth the proud." If it is
pride that is keeping the door shut,
take the bar down. Or it may be the
bar of personal desire. You have your
own'purposes and plans, your own
feelings and wishes to gratify; your
own appetites to indulge. This bar of
personal desire includes worldliness,
sin in its various phases, ambition,
selfishness, and this bar of personal
desire must be withdrawn before Jesus
can come' in. And then there Is the
bar of procrastination. It is an inno
cent looking bay, but there is no other
bar which has proved more destruc
tive to souls. It is Satan's last and
effective plea. The soul realizes read
ily its need of Jesus, it knows It must
break down the liars to let the door
B
swing open, but not now is the plea.
To-morrow, next week, next year.
After the soul has been Its master a
little longer. After the desires of the
heart and life have been indulged a
little more fully. But there is peril in
delay, as many, many a precious soul
has realized when it was too late.
Jesus does not say He will stand at the
heart's door
to-morrow,
there now, but to-morrow He may
have withdrawn. This bar of pro
crastination Is a hard one to get rid of.
But be rid of it right now, dear friend.
Do what you know you ought to do at
once. While Jesus knocks, do not tell
Him to call to-morrow, but hid him
enter right now, this very moment.
He stands
ND then the open door! Jesus a
guest within! A feast of good things!
A new purpose ruling the life, and a
new hope filling the heart with joy!
Yes, but with Jesus In the heart we dis
cover that there are lots of shut doors
which must be opened to admit Him
to full possession of the heart. The
work is not all done when the heart's
door is opened. It is only begun. We
have admitted'Jesus to the vestibule,
and all about, are rooms and closets
and dark recesses which Jesus wants
to visit one by one and cleanse and
purify and fill with His presence. And
here is the message to the Christians.
Jesus knocks at the chamber and
closet doors within your heart and
pleads for admittance. Every room
and recess ami closet in your heart
should become a banqueting hail for
you and your guest, Jesus. Have you
wondered many, many times why you
get so little joy and satisfaction out of
your Christian life? It is because you
have left Jesus standing out in the
vestibule of your heart and you have
withdrawn to a far part of the heart
anl are trying to feast yourself alone
upon some pet sin or desire. Of course
you will be unhappy. Of course you
will have doubts and fears. The un
happiest creature in all the world is
the one who has admitted Jesus to the
vestibule of the heart and who then
tries to keep Him there, while he lives
In the rooms apart from Him. Jesus
is knocking. He wants to come in and
sup with you. Open the door. Let
His cleansing power be felt In that
dark corner. Let Him make it a dwell
ing place for Himself. Then will you
know joy and peace agalD, because
Jesus is admitted to all part: of your
heart.
A
Minions In Oslo.
National Oats yielded in
Palwr's N
1903 in Mich., 240 bu., in Mo., -55 bu.,
in N D 310 bu., and in 30 other states
ai0 p „ acre . Now thil
0at jf generally grown in 1901, will add
millions of buHiels to the yield_ and rad
'lions of dollars to the farmer s purse.
£ " Ur * e8t ^ Pota, °
Salzer's .Spelts, Beardless Barley, Home
[Builder Corn, Macaroni Wheat, Pcs Out,
Billion Dollar Grass and Earliest lane
are raon0 >' mala ' r " y °"'vnTnT
. Jlbl 8ENI } . , V , ,
in stamps to John A. balzer seed Co., La
ft."" * wig ( and reccive j n return their
big catalog and lots of farm seed sam
pies. [K. L.j
The Ely—"the moth seems
grouchy." The Roach—"Yesj lie's been
shewing the rag ail day.' -Princeton
.tiger.
, , _ , _
_ Do not believe I iso s lure Ij
lion has an equal for coughs and colds-,).
I' . Boyer, T rinity Springs , Ind., l'cb. 15,1800.
The man who is above Ins business may
one day lind his business above him.—
fvJ 1
Stoim the Couth
and works off the cold. Laxative Bromo
Quinine Tablets. Price 25 cents
'She—"Why do you always insist on hav
ing your own way?" He—"Why shouldn't
1' My way is always the best. '—Sum
merville Journal.
or failures made with Putnam
X
mu
Fadeless Dyes.
Straight running makes better pp^d
than the swiftest circling. -Ram's Horn.
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■ Mrs. Elizabeth H. Thompson, 6 f Lilly-J
dale, N. Y., Grand Worthy Wise Templar,
and Member of W. C.T. U., tells how she
recovered from a serious illness by the use of
Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound*
W)\
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" Dear Mrs. Pinkham : — I am one of the many of your grateful friends
who have been cured through the use of Lydia E. Pirikliam's Yegetillile
Compound, and who can to-day thank you for the fine health I enjoy. When
I was thirty-five years old, I suffered severe backache and frequent bearing
down pains; in fact, I had womb trouble. I was very anxious to get well,
and reading of the cures your Compound had made, I decided to try it. I took
only six bottles, but it built me up and cured me entirely of all my troubles.
" My family and relatives were naturally as gratified as I was. My niece
had heart troubl* and nervous prostration, and was considered incurable.
She took your Vegetable Compound and it cured her in a short time, and she
became well and strong, and her home to her great joy and her husband's
delight was blessed with a baby. I know of a number of others who have
been cured of different kinds of female trouble, and am satisfied that your
Compound is the best medicine for sick women."— Mbs. Elizabeth 11. Thompson,
Box 105, Lillydale, N. Y.
Thousands upon thousands of women throughout this country
are not only expressing such sentiments as the above to their
friends, but are continually writing letters of gratitude to Mrs.
Pinkhani, until she has hundreds of thousands of letters from
women in all classes of society who have l>een restored to health
by her advice and medicine after all other means had failed.
Here is another letter which proves conclusivelythat there is no
Other medicine to equal Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound.
"Dear Mrs. Pinkham: — I suffered with
poor health for over seven years, not sick
enough to stay in bed, and not well enough to
enjoy life and attend to my daily duties proper
ly. 1 was growing thin, my complexion was
■ sallow, and I was easily upfcet and irritable.
" One of mv neighbors.advised me to try
Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Com
pound, and 1 procured a bottle. A great
change for the better took place within a
week, and I decided to keep up the treatment
" Within two months I was like a changed
woman, my health good, my step light, my
eyes bright, my complexion vastly improved,
! and I felt once more like a young girl. I
1 wonder now how I ever endured the misery.
C'. I I would not spend another year like it for a
p. ju - - : fortune.
" * " I appreciate my good health, and give
aJl the praise to Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound."— Mrs.
M. Tii.I.A, 407 iiabersteen St., Savannah, Ua.
Mrs. Pinkham has on file thousands of such letters.
FORFEIT if wo cannot forthwith produce the original letters and signatures of
above testimonials, which will prove their absolute genuineness.
Lydia E. Finkham Med. Co., Lynn, Mat*.
tit
IJ
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/AY
T
S'
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f'
$5000
FARMS CHEAP
FOR SALE. AT LOW PRICES
GIVEN AWAY by the Government
Low Settlers' Rates to .Montana and Washington
DAILY DURING MARCH AND APHID, ^904
Th*re arc thousands of acres of rich
agricultural lands not yet under culti
vation along- the line of the
Great Northern Railway
Write to-day for illustrated bulletin,
giving detailed information
OWN YOUR OWN FARM
F. I. WHITNEY
General PaFttenger and Ticket Agent
Bt. Paul, Minn.
MAX BASS
General Immigration Agent
22U So. Clark Bt., Chicago
Sale Ten Million Boxes a Year.
TNK FAMILY'S FAVORITE MEDICINE A
CANDY CATHARTIC
Me.
fH EY WORK WHILE YOU SLEEP.
A0
25c, 50c.
Oracdsts
BEST FOR THE BOWELS
CUTICURA SOAP
»
TU World's Greatest Skin Soap—Tks
Standard of Every Nation
of the Earth.
Millions of the world'* best people use
Cuticura Soap, assisted by Cuticura Oint
ment, the purest arid sweetest of emollient
skin cures, for preserving, purifying and
beautifying the skiii, for cleansing the scalp
of crusts, scales and dandrutf, and the
stopping of falling hair, for softening,
whitening and soothing red, rough and
sore hands, for baby rashes, itchings and
chalings, and many sanative, antiseptic
purposes which readily suggest themselves
to women, especially mothers, as well as
for all the purposes of the toilet, bath and
nurser^.
Easy Oaf.
The sporting editor of the Daily Bread
wo., acting .temporarily as answers-to-cop
respondents man.
{ te from "Constant Reader,"
tnjned th( , f)Uery . « what do the letters
T>. D.' mean?" was handed to him.
' Dollars to Doughnuts, bt .
reply, without a moment s hesitation.—
Chicago Tribune.
earn
This is none too early to see about ac*
commodations at the World's Fair. Bet
ter write the Inside Inn, Room 110, Ad
ministration Bldg., St. Louis, to-day, for
particulars, which will he sent you free.
It is the only hotel in the World's Fair
Grounds._
Towne—"Senator Dullard seems to have
quired quite a reputation as a wit."
Browne- ''Yes, he was interviewed once
bright reporter."—Philadelphia
ae
by a
Press.