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IT-AN- lit*". A/H, re IA $ iiP.' e- A .1 •1 -"V TENNESSEE SOCIETY. How Two of. lt* Mimbtri Proved Themaslvas Equal to the Occa sion. The Chattanooga (Tenn.) correspon dent of the Chicago Times some time ago attended a typical Tennessee wedding at Sam Lowell's cabin on Sand Mountain. People came on foot and on horseback from all parts of the mountains, for the Lowells were •1'sassiety folks" and had a comforta ble cabin with ten acres of cleared land. It was early in the afternoon, but a number of visitors had already arrived. The women were in the house holding consultations as to whether the bride should wear her bonnet or not during the ceremony and assisting her in the preparation of her trousseau, which was the finest ever seen on the moun tain. The dress was made of white muslin, and around the waist was a wide yellow sash, with streamers almost reaching the floor. This was the pride of 'Mandy Lowell's heart it was wider nnd longer than any sash ever beheld in that neighborhood and the color was brighter. She insisted on wearing her wedding hat "else what tarnal good war thar in a-buyin1 of it?" she argued. It had been brought all the way from Atlanta, and been added to after it came until it was a wonderful work of art. The high crown was surmounted by an im mense white bow around it was a beautiful red ribbon, while the streamers were of the brightest blue. On one side was a green bow, and on the other a scarlet one, each of which was fastened by an immense silver plated pin. The idea of not wearinjj this hat at her wedding was not to be entertained for a moment. While the women were discussing the details of the dress and preparing for the wedding supper, the men were standing by the fence, each with one foot resting easily on the lower rail while they whittled at the posts and talked of the times when they were young and courted the maidens who were now their wives. The bridegroom had gone twenty miles over the mountains to the coun- IThe ty seat after the necessary license. squire who was to perform the ceremony walked meditatively back and forth in front of the house, look ing quite uncomfortable in the dancing boots which he had put on for the first time since his last marriage service ten years before. 'J he day was fast drawing to a close when the bridegroom rode up with the license. He was clothed in a doeskin suit, to which he had evidently not yet become accustomed. It was the only suit of the kind that the village store had and the creases showed that it had long remained in stock before it was sold. The coat was too large and the pantaloons too short, but, as the mer chant said, "that made no difference it wouldn't be worn more than once or tvice a year," and to Tom Tilford's eyes they were the finest clothes he had ever dreamed of owning. He dis mounted and received tjie congratula tions of the guests in advance of the ceremony. He entered the cabin and the bride blushingly retreated into the impromptu dressing-room, which had been made by hanging a sheet across one corner. "I knowed you'd git ketefced," "It stands to reason that no man couldn't go with Mandy 'thout gittin' stuck," "I think you'll make as peart a couple as was ever hitched," and other rough but well-meant expressions greeted him as he entered. The bride's mother acted as hostess, and in the midst of her cooking would run, with flour still on her hands, to bid her guests a hearty welcome as they entered. The cabin consisted of only one room and a loft, while a shed attached to the room served as a kitch en. The floor was of puncheons, and lime had been placed in the cracks and packed tight with a maul for the dancers. An old man stood in one corner with a violin. He was to fur nish the music, as he had done at every wedding in that region for many years. The women, on entering, ar ranged themselves aronnd the room the men, when the first greetings were over, would repair to the front fence. When supper was ready all gathered about the table, but ate sparingly, for the hostess gave the caution: "Don't yer go to eatin' too much, for the big supper is a-comin' not as I keer fer the things, but I don't want yer to spile the big supper." After the meal the dishes were cleared away and the wed ding was announced. The 'squire placed a Bible and a copy of the Re vised Statutes on the table, and said "This 'ere court" will come to order. Tom Tilford, Stan' up. Mandy Lowell whair air ye? The bride appeared from the dressing-room retreat re splendent with her hat, the objections to which she had overborne. She blushingly walked up to the side of her lover and seized his left hand in her right "See hyar, that won't do," said the 'squire. "You must jine right hands fer marriages left hands is good only for divorces, and ye don't want to be divorced yit," and he chuckled at his wit "Now, both on you jine right hands that's right," he added, as they complied with his directions. "Now let loose and hold up her right hands and kiss the Bible." This was done. "Tom Tillford, do you solemnly swar to take this yar woman, 'Mandy Lowell, as yer lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, until death do you part, and with worldly goods dower her accord ing to stattoos made and pervided? Say •I do.'" "I do," Tom responded. "Now, 'Mandy Lowell, do you solemnly swar to take this man fer yer lawful wedded husband till death do you part and to love him and take keer of him and obey him according to scripter and statoots? Say 'I do.' She blushingly faltered her assent "Then, by the power vested in me as justice of the peace I declare you Mr. and Mrs. Lowell—»I mean Mr. and Mrs. Tillford—and what God and I, aa justice of the peace, elected. ..ty. (ho. honest voters of the county, has put to gether let no man put asunder ef he doesn't want to get licked by the hull settlement. I wiil now kiss the bride accordin' to good old custom." Losses b7 Forest Fires. At a meeting of the American Lum bermen's Association, held in Chicago a few years ago, the statement was made that more pine and other valua ble timber trees were annually destroy ed by forest fires than were cut for the purpose of converting them into lumber. It was also reported that forest fires were increasing in number and de structiveness, though fires in towns were decreasing. Every large town now has a fire department, costly ap paratus, a supply of water on every street, and arrangements for giving an alarm in case a fire breaks out In the timbered portions of the country no provisions are made for extinguishing fires. The nearest town that contains a fire engine is generally many miles away. Railroads, which are the cause of many forest fires, do not bring in engines and men for the purpose of putting them out The few people who live near where a forest fire oc curs have all they can do in saving their own buildings and crops. In several cases that have occurred dur ing the past few years the settlers near forests have lost their own lives while attempting to save their property. The causes of the recent great in crease of forest fires are numerous. Railroads penetrate almost every great pine forest that remains and steam boats navigate the largo streams that run through them. The engines aro constantly throwing off sparks, any of which is capable of starting a fire in resinous boughs if they are dry. Steam sawmills cause many forest fires. A still larger number are caused by hunters, amateur fishermen and tour ists. They build fires for the purpose of cooking their came and ordinarily go away and leave them burning. A lire may slumbar for a week in a log or stump and burst into a flame as soon as a brisk wind occurs. It is al most impossible, even with trained men, good apparatus and a liberal supply of water, to prevent the spread of a fire in a forest of resinous trees. The ground is covered with material that will burn as readily as timber. When heated it gives off volatile oils that will burn in the air. A fire, once started, will produco sparks which will be carried long distances and bo the means of producing flames in fifty places. A great fire always produces a current of air which carries the flamo to more fuel. The losses occasioned by forest fires are not confined to valuable timber. They destroy all the young and grow ing trees and the tree seeds that are on the ground. In a dozen counties in Michigan forest fires have ruined the soil in large districts. They consumed all the carbon and nitrogen they con tained, and left nothing but mineral substances. They reduced tho coun try to the condition of a desert Cen turies must pass before the processes that nature employs to render barren land fertile can accomplish the work of restoration. The government of tho United States is almost the only one in the civilized world that has not instituted measures to prevent the occurrence of fires in forests and to stop their spread ing if they occur. In France, Ger many, Spain and Italy persons who fell trees on their own land are oblig ed to remove all the branches, so they will not cause fires. They are also obliged to clear wide openings, that will prevent the spread of fires, and will afford a way for engines to pass. The forests in some of these countries are annually inspected by officials to determine if they lire dangerous. Forest inspectors there perform the duties assigned to building inspectors in most cities in this country. The province of Toronto, Canada, has adopted measures that have resulted in putting an end to the destructive forest fires that were once of so fre quent occurrence there. The commis sioner of forestry establishes rules that must be observed by the owners of wood land. They are not allowed to leave the branches of the trees they cut on the ground or to permit the building of fires in a forest—Chicago Herald. Marriage in Madagascar. When a father in Madagascar crets a notion that his daughter ought to mar ry he puts a rope around her neck and leads her forth, and the first young man he offers her to has got to take her or pay a forfeit. The father thus saves the expense of light and fuel in cident to two years' courtship, and the young man also saves on opera tickets and ice-cream. But the spectacle of young men darting up alleys and climbing over back fences when a ftaher starts out leading his daughter with a rope around her neck must be a very common one in Madagascar.— Norristown Herald. Stick to Your Flannel Stick to your flannels, Tom, Till the end of May Don't take them off, my boy, And catch pneumonia. Stick to your flannels, Tom, However plows the sun, Or you will be an angel, Tom, Before the spring is done. —Boston Courier. Commonness of Adventures. There is not, perhaps, among the multitudes of all conditions that swarm upon the earth a single man who does not, at one time or other, summon the attention of his friends to the casual ties of his adventures and the vicissi tudes of his fortune—casualties and vicissitudes that happen alike in lives uniform and in lives diversified—to the commander of armies and to tho writer at a desk—to the sailor who re signs himself to the wind and water, and to the farmer whose longest jour ney is to the market ..-i ji'jElJW:. COOPER'S MECE. 'Philip,1* said old John Briggs to his son, "you aro twenty-eight years old to-d.%." "So the fami\y record says, father," responded the elegant young gentle man addressed, "I am disposed to place implicit reliance upon it" "You have done nothing since you left college but kill time." "It, is only retaliation in advance, sir. Some day or other the old chap with the scalp lock and scythe will kill me." "You are too flippant Since your Aunt Priscilla left you $5,000 a year you have done nothing but spend the money. Your iucorne ought to be enough for a single man, but you draw on me too." "I'll try to draw on you less, sir." "It is not that, Philip. You are quite welcome to a check now and then, for 1 know that you neither game nor revel, and I don't mind your horses, your club, your natural history craze, nor your luxurious tastes. But still you spend more money and get less for it than most young men of your age have too much, in fact." "I don't find it too much, sir. In fact, I was thinking what a graceful thing it would be if you were to double it, a a mere trifle to a gentleman of your me ins. I have to use the most pitiful economy, I assure you." "Oh, that's it, eh? Well, there is a mode to increase it very much. You heard me speak of Philander Spriggs of New York?" "Money lender and skinflint? I have heard of him." "Nonsense, Philip. He is quite worthy as well as a very wealthy man and if he prefers to invest ready mon ey in short loans, what of that? I lend my money, or some of it, sometimes.1' "But not a cent per cent'1 "No matter. I don't propose that you shall borrow of him. He has an only child, a daughter, who will inher it all his vast property, just as you will mine." "Does he shave notes, father?" Phil, be kind enough not to indulge in chaff. I have seen her and talked with licr. She is young, handsome well educated and has good taste, a society gentlewoman with domestic tastes." "Well, father, you aro not so old, and since you admire her so much, I see no reason why—" "Stop your nonsense and listen. Spriggs and I had a talk over it when I was in New York, and we concluded that if you two come together, to chip in equally and settle a half-million on you on your wedding day. With what you have you'll do well enough for a while." "But," demurred Philip, "I don't like Spriggs for a father-in-law." "Stuff! You don't marry Spriggs." And the name. Just thnik of it! Spr-r-iggs!" "What of that? With marriage the name is changed. 1 don't think she'll gain much by it Spriggs—Briggs. Six of one and a half-dozen of the other." "I'd like to oblige you, father. I suppose I must marry some day but it will be some one I love und then, Philadelphia like, I insist on a woman of good family." "Some one you love! How the deuce do you know you'll not love her till you see her? Good family! Of course you're entitled to that The peerage of England is full of Viscount Briggses. The Briggses are found in 1he Alman ach von Gotha among the erlaucht families. Your grandfather made $300, 000 in hides and tallow, and if he had not invested it in real estate that multiplied itself more than ten-fold be fore he died, I should have been in the same business to-day. and you in tho counting-room or warehouse. Family, indeed! You're a foolish boy, Philip, and your aunt's legacy has ruined you." "I wish, sir, there were a half-dozen more old aunts to continue my ruin in the same way. It is of no use getting angry, father. You can't keep it up I'll take to anything you say—law, physic or divinity sell my horses, drop my club, read by the cubic foot, but to marry—excuse me." "See here, Phil," exclaimed the father, who by this time was at white heat "you never knew me to break my word, I merely ask you to marry for your own good. I point out a wife in every way suitable to you. Marry to please me, and I will not only start you fairly in life now, but leave you all I have when I am gone. Marry to suit some foolish fancy of your own, and I'll—yes, I'll found an asylum for idiots. Now you understand me." And Briggs marched off. leaving his son to his meditations. "If I stay here," said Philip to him self, "fatherand I will quarrel. Better give the dear old gentleman a chance to cool off. 1'U ruralize a little." That afternoon Philip packed a port manteau, and with a fishing-rod and mineral hammer started off to Mont gomery county, where an old college mate of his had married and settled, nnd whom he had long promised to visit When he arrived there he learned that Boudinotand his wife had gone to Long Branch for the season, and their servants with them, the house being in charge of a care taker. Philip heard of good fishing in a stream four miles off, and concluded to try it. He fov.nd lodgings at a farmhouse near the place, owned by a man named Seth Cooper. His quarters are quite comfortable. The house was an old stone building of ante-Revolutionary erection and was roomy. He was assigned a chamber upstairs, looking out on a trimly kept garden, in which old-fashioned flowers and pot-herbs were grown side by side, and which sent a pleasant fragrance through the open window. The room itself was adorned with pictures and knick-knacks, showing feminine taste, and the bedstead was furnished with a hair mattress, and not the bag of feathers of the vicinage. "Decidedly," said Philip to himself "there is another female on the premises, something younger and pos sibly fairer -than the substantial Dame Cooper, and with some refined taste." But neither that day nor that week did he see any woman other than Mrs. Cooper or the hired girl. However, the cooking was good the country air and his walks round about pave him an ap petite, and he was content He fished the stream closely, or rambled here and there, hammer in hand and the bag at side, or leaned over fences and talked with the farmers about "crops" and the weather. In a week's time thej thing grew monotonous. The., fish were not al ways inclined to bite, good specimens in quarries and in situ grew scarcer, and his stock of talk on farming was nearly exhausted. He began to think of going to the Branch and hunting up Boudinot. As he sat upon the veran dah one afternoon debating the mat ter, a wagon was driven up the lane and stopped at the door. Lightly out stepped a young woman in a neat trav eling dress, and tho driver followed her with a large trunk, under which he staggered, burly as he was. Mrs. Cooper came from the kitchen and ex claimed, "Why, it's Gwenny, I de clare!" "You dear old Aunty Ruth!" said the newcomer, hugging and kissing the farmer's wife. "I came to have a good time for a month." "And so j'ou shall, my dear," was the hearty reply. Phillip took an ocular inventory of the looks, dress and manner of the newcomer as he took off his hat "A sweet face and graceful figure, and presentable anywhere," was his inter nal comment "Here's luck. I ehall not visit the Branch yet." "You have a boarder, aunty," said the girl when upstairs with Mrs. Cooper. "Yes! He's a Mr. Bee," said the other. "It don't look as if he had any call to work for his living, judging by his white har.ds and his fix-ups, and he's plenty of money." "Bee! Then ho isn't a busy bee. But he's good looking if he be agree able, he'll do for a walking stick. Mrs. Cooper's mistake as to Philip was natural enough. When she had asked his name on his coming, he had said, in his airy way, "Philip B., at your service," and she had taken the sound of the initial for his surname. After she had called him Mr. Bee several times, Philip saw the blunder, smiled at it, and as the naval officers say, "made it so" and when Gwenny came to tho table she was introduced, "Miss Gwenny, Mr. Bee." As she was the niece, ho concluded her name to be Cooper, but as the farmer addrescd her as Miss wenny, and the farmer's wife as Gwenny, Philip, chose the more respectful of the two. As Philip was a gallant young gen tleman. and as the young lady was charming an manner, he naturally paid her much attention. When a young man and young woman are thrown to gether under such circumstances, it is not unusual for a flirtation to follow. It is generally a foregone conclu sion. Philip soon learned that "Gwenny" was the diminutive of Gwenllian. and not of the more stilted Gwendoline, which interested him. Philip's mother had been a Powell, with Welsh blood in her veins, and bore the same name. This latter Gwenllian was a mystery to him. For the niece of a rather coarse fanner, for Cooper, though a worthy man, was the reverse of refined, she displayed unquestionably gentle manners. Then she showed a fair knowledge of any subject touched upon in conversation. 'What was she. a teacher? She had not,the look nor the way of the school ma'am. A governess? Possibly. If so, in a good family. But her belong ings were not of the second-hand kind. Philip had a keen eye for female ap parel. Her lace was of the rarest her gloves were perfect and of the newest her dresses were pretty in material and well-fitting, though quiet in tone and though she displayed little in the way of jefrelry, the stone that sparkled on tho head of a lace pin was unmistak ably a diamond. She had been well cultured, and every word and action showed a purity that fitted her name. On the other hand, Philip was as much a mystery to the young girl. He was a gentleman beyond doubt But what was he doing there, a man of culture, refinement and aesthetic tastes, in that farmhouse? He had said noth ing of the Boudi riots, which would have explained it With a little affectation of cynicism, which did not ill become him, the man was as clear as water, frank as air. But why did he loiter there with no apparent purpose? The girl did not at first deem she was the attraction, but it came to her after five weeks, and she grew shy, and her shy ness for the last week of her stay in fected Philip, who became shy, too, and lost all ease. At length she an nounced to Mrs. Cooper that she had to return home, and that her father, who was in Philadelphia, visiting a friend there, would come for her on the following day, and hi9 friend with him. Phillip heard this with a depres sion that told him he had met his fate, and that it lay in the power of this girl to make him happy or miserable For life. All the night that followed, Philip lay and tossed restlessly. He could not sleep. He felt that his father would be as good as his word, byt he would win a wife then or never. Near morn ing he arose, dressed, and sat at the window, .until the sun showed itself. Then he slipped out of the house and strolled toward a glen a few yards off, intending to remain out until he heard the breakfast bell. It had been a fav orite haunt of the two, and yet for the last few days both had avoided it. He made his way to a mossy rock which formed a sort of rustic seat and there he saw Gwenny. "Miss Gwenllian," he exclaimed. She rose with a rather embarrassed air. "I rested badly last night, Mr. Bee, and I came out at daybreak. iiave been here ever since. The mov ing air Beems to refresh me." "I have the same experience," hs said. "I have rested badly, or rathei have not rested at all. I—" She looked up inquiringly, and at something she read in his eyes, dropped her own, while a flush overspread hci face and neck. "Gwenny!" ho said desperately, and took her hand. The fingers trembled in his,but were not withdrawn. "Gwen ny," he said, "we are to part to-day. Do you know that I love you dearly?" "Do you, Philip?" she murmured, but did not look up. "Gwenny," he said, "I have been sailing under false colors, but inno cently enough. I have a way among my gentlemen friends of using my ini tials, and so I am called among them P. B., or Mr. B. When your aunt asked my name, I said -Mr. B.,' and I did not care to undcceive her but I de sire no concealment from you, unless you do not care for me. Then we will part as we met but I shall be a changed man." He waited for a reply. There was a slight tightening of her fingers on his as she half whispered: "You must know that I care for you, Philip." "Now," said the exultant Philip, "you must let me speak to your father to-day." "I fear you may find him rather ob stinate," she said. "He sets an un due store by his daughter." "I can satisfy him of my position in society and that I am able to maintain you. I have means of my own, and have—well, I might say had, great ex pectations but my father, who is sev eral times a millionaire, has taken it into his head to fit me with a wife. I prefer to choose one for myself. If you will bo content to share what I have, Philip Briggs does not care for more." "Briggs—Philips!" cried Gwenny, releasing herself from his grasp and looking wonderingly. "Is your father'.' name John?" "Yes." "And he lives in Philadelphia?" "Yes." Gwenny burst into a peal of silvery laughter. "Do not feel vexed, Philip," she said at length. I am only laugh ing at the similarity of our positions. My father chose a husband for me in the same way. and it was to escape discussion of the matter that I took these few weeks rustication. Mrs. Cooper is my old nurse, nnd I have callcd her 'aunty' from the time I could toddle around. She was married from our house. Her husband had very little money and father bought this farm and stocked it But, oh! think Philip dear, how your father and mine will chuckle! You are Philip Briggs, and I—I am Gwenllian Spriggs."— Harper's Bazar. The Limited Vocabulary. Belinda was a maiden Divinely picturesque As any child of "Aidenn" (See Poc in "Tales Grotesque"): Her manners were so gentle, Her voice was music sweet, And I crew sentimental When first we chanced to meet We danced a waltz together. And oil, the way she danced I Each little foot a feather Across the carpet glanced. We ogled o'er the ices, Until my heart said "This Must be what Paradise is— Superlatively bliss." In all our conversation We cordially agreed Her highest commendation Was always, "Yes, indeed!" I criticised, I queried— It grieves me to confess, I actually grew wearied With "Yes" and "Yes, Oh. Yes!" But girls that are so stupid Oft have a pretty face They get the help of Cupid, And win us by their grace. Thoueht I, since she's so willing:, Forever to agree, Some day, I'll beta shilling, She'll answer "Yes" to me. So at the beach last summer. Beneath the moonlight clear I sought to capture from her That affirmation dear But her vocabulary— 'Twas limited, and so, Her language just to vary, She tenderly said "No!" —Paul Mederst in Munsey's Weekly. Took the Whole Hog. Whether "a lie well told and Etuck to afterward is as good as the truth" was debated at a dinner table where a Lcwistown (Me.) Journal man was sit ting one day this week, and it brought out the following story from a rather dyspeptic-looking man who had eaten very sparingly: "I used to live up in the country," said he. "One of my neighbors, an unlucky, unthrifty sort of a man, killed a pig one day with the aid of a local butcher, and after the killing he said to the butcher: 'By jinks, Sam, I hate to cut up that pig.' •Why?' ''Cause you see I'm owin' most every body around here a piece of pork, nnd if I cut up the pig I'll have to give most of him away.1 'I tell you what to do,' said the butcher. 'What's that?' 'I'd have the pig hung up out doors till twelve o'clock at night, then take him in and give out the next morning that he's been stol en.' 'By jinks, I'll do it.' It was a wonderfully fine plan, the farmer thought, and he left the pig hanging out, as the butcher suggested. About eleven o'clock the butcher himself came along and loaded the pork into his team, it was not there when the farmer went out after it. The next day, with a long face, he accosted the butcher in a hoarse whisper. 'I say, Sam, somebody did really steal that pig. 'That's right,' said the butcher, nudging him and winking wickedly at the same time. 'But, by jinks, the pig was really stolen.' 'That's right you stick to that and you'll be all right,' said the butcher, encouragingly, and he hurried off, leaving hi9 friend in a most bewildered Etate of mind, from which I don't think be ever fully emerged." •vie* INFANTILE 8kir\«f Scalp DISEASES '.••cured by.? Cl/TIC\JFV\ IfOR CLEANSING, PURIFYING AND BEAU. J. lifting the skin oi children and Intent* and curmrf torturing, disfiguring, itching. soslr and Pimply diseased of the akin, scalp and blood, with lost of hair, from tatsncr to old ace. the CUTICURA REMEDIES are infallible. CtmcUBA, the great Skin Car*, and CUTXCTnu BOAR an exquisite Skin BeautlUer. externally, aud CcncuKA. RESOLVENT, the new Blood Purl tier. internally, cure every form of akin and blood diseases, from pimples to scrofula. Sold every where. Price. CUTICTBA. 50C.SSOAP, ®t*ropared by the POTTEB I CHMncM, Co.. BOSTON, MASS. Bend for "How to Cure Skin Diseases." Baby's Skin and Bcatp preserved and beautified by CTTICWBA SOAP. KIDXET PAINS, Backaohe and Weakness cured by CUTICUBA ANTI-PAIN PLABTEB an instantaneous pain-subduing plaster. 25o Hones' FMEM1 •MNSI.D HIITKSD ••row COWHNM1NT. 5?P?.T° "MOTBIBS-' MAILMHFBn. BKADF1ELD REGULATOR CO„ ATLAKTJUQ4 80LU ALL DHUGQIITS. Joyto the World PERRY DAVIS' PAIN KILLER for the entire eradication of all Pain, EXTERNAL or INTERNAL. No family shoulc) be without it. One twenty- five cent bottle will do more to convince you of the efficacy than all the testi monials we might present, and we have an abundance of this kind of evidence. ITS ACTION IS LIKE MAGIC. For Coughs, Colds and Sore Throat, a teaspoonful of Pain Killer taken at the beginning ofan attack will prove an almost never-failing cure, and save much SUFFERING AND MONEY. PAIN-KILLER is an article that has combined in it all that goes to make a first-class family medicine. BEWARE OF IMITATIONS All druggists sell Pain-Killer at 25c., 50c., and $1.00 a bottle. ORATORS uy PIso's Cure for Con sumption la THE BEST for seeping the voice clear. 26centa. A E N S I O N O N I IT E S flit oivii Klegwt BIM4 Purifier, Liter VBTi|orii«r!Tnleu4 Appetizer known. Tht flritBitteraeooUiniBi Iron ndver* tiied ia America. J.F.AItLU, DriiffUiA CheoiUt, 8i.FnuI.Miu. ST. PAUrSGHOOrFURNITURE CE BT.rAUI*1U3N. School Fnrnltarss&d School BuppllM. Cor respondence solicited from district ofllcera, .tort those d.iirin* an 'agency. Ash tor Csts loru. D. The oldest medicine In the world Is probably II l»r. Isaac Thompson's E It A II E E W A E It is a carefully prepared plirxlclan's prenorip. •Ion. and has been In use fur S'KAHLY A CEK 1UUY. tor nil external luflaniation of the eyes It la an Infallible remedy, and IN unequalled In re moving inflamation of the eyes, at thecotninence ment, and In curlngchronic cneen. We invito the attention of physicians to its merits. For sale by all bruKglata. JOHN L. THOMPSON, KOXR CO., Troj, N. T, ESTABLISHED 177«. SEGELBAUM BROS. The great Wholesale and Retail dealers of Dry Goods, &c. Solicit Mail Orders for Samples of all kinds of Dry Goods as Silks, Satins, Wool Dress Goods, Wash Dress Goods, Linens, Bedding, Pillows, Curtains, Laces, Gorsets, Gloves, Hosiery, Un derwear, Cloaks, Shawls, Wraps, Made-up Dresses, Muslin Underwear, Millinery &c., &c. Our prices are always so low as to afford you an absolute great saving. Shopping catalogue and samples will be sent free on application. Address SEGELBAUM BROS., MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. gs. 1. Far* Harassa. rlatrora wsfse, UO PRICE The first 4«m often MtoatafccaUMla* valid, giving •UwUeltjr of niai sal Bouyancy of Body to which he was bafore itissgt Thejr «lre appetite. GOOD DIGESTION, "*"lsr bowel* and aolld flesh. Rise. Iyengar coated. Price, 25c ta. per box* Sold Everywhere* UD!ES'^Si~?:g Mva SWWS laHmflWTper'tSoiMi and Qipon— I?.../, p" JMD t. Mil rargMd. •MUTED by Munpl. lad II.. born.. Silir? mM ""Jy f* *MllT TYPE, PRESSES, PAPER CUTTERS, Printers' Supplies &c. Special Agents for Benton Waldo's SeTf Spacing Type. We fnrniflh everything necesaary to lit np a flrHt-class oliics und furnish estimates on appli cation. Special agents for the Mann Hand Cylinder Preiu. If you contemplate starting a newspaper or printing ollice. Write us at ones for our terms. We can save you for Newspapers are acknowledged to be the beat iu tht* NorthwPBt, Send for sample*. Our «'onnectlou Kith the Pioneer Pre** gives as facilltli'H for obtaining sews possessed by no other ready prlot house. Send for a sample ol our news edition. All correspondence cheerfully answered. Address DAKOTA NEWSPAPER UNION, ABERDEEN, DAK, The only Ready Print Houae in Dakota. Or Northwestern Newspaper Union, CI If II AST CARRIAGES HARNESS MANUFACTURING COL LA null I zsasss^AL „..*?•"_ sr. PAVL, MO. Assets, he 1A yre. lundiill withtlwMaauMc. W. ihip with prMltgt of cxaminlM. 6fbr« tyuinf. V.piy/riubci.fyH Mh umyt if DM eatiafectiar. warrant everything Zyrars. Aaron.thateiiwrtte cmr-lot dsr a Bain «r RUM. Iran oa wall pay 81S MWO to m. nkldl. nun to onto, fa ttia we tt*e no endit tad hsra ONE PRICE, ONLY. Platform. CaeMeatleai and JB 3-Nprl» Wanes, S60i sanBi other. Mil .t SM. Top Baggie*. S80 fin... Mtn. Mid lit (1IU. OusatSIOS sn lis. Mil far CM*. I*h ae tan*. Slit 51 sasMaaaoldataUt. Raad Carta. BIT. has aad d.limoo oan laUkhait,/r« ./ rSarpfc HARNESS Oar Raraeaa an sll Na. I Oak Leather. Mli|lr,|l2io ItO l.lght Danble. |U to MO. 64 »af lllut. Catalogue. Free. AddMsQ. 0, PRATT, Sec'y. ELKHART. INDIANA. SLICKER 5 1),. CAtOM, Sm mS,"Bowog. JiSt .DAY. SampleswortHM.11 ilne« not nnder home.' feet. B4SSSVB IIWV UUUCI IIUrSCB INL 111 1AFITY IBIS IOLDIKC0b|IMrt| $6 IMZii BABY SASim» C. O. D. PATENTS F.A.LCBH'nS ash'ton.DO Send for cutfl who hsve aaed PIso's Cure for Conramptlon say it is BEST OF ALU Bold everywhere, afc. *nd upam In idmn. Fill OH Mutanaad aural. FREE. Wtn.a.lM II1DV rtswipi, ataiidnrd SIlTcrwa I CURE FITS! ..stop them for a time sad ..ITS them return. I mean a radical core. I hare FITS. EPILEPSY or FALLING SICKNESS a ufekm studr. I warrant remedy to cur* the woistessea. Became others hare failed is no Nasoa fornotiuw receiving a cure. Send at once for trestlas .1 prescribe .\nd fallrea* dorse Big as the only specific forthecertalncore of this disease. Q. H. IKORAHAM.lt. D.. nr«Mtrtfthe J. Amsterdam, N. Y. We have sold Big foi many years, and it has Bctlon. ven the best of satis D. B. DYCHE A CO.. Chicago, 111. M.00. Bold by Druggists. REDDIl BOSTON. For 8on Eyti, Flwh Wouata, 8BU» ?Dm, rdou.lt la ntgkal. 85 eta. The BUYEBB'GUIDE ft Issued March and Bept, each year, it la an enor« clopedia of useful infor mation for all who pur chase the luxuries or the necessities of life. We MB clothe you and furnish yon with all the necessary and unnecessary appliances to ride, walk, dance, sleep, eat, fish, bunt, work, go to church, or stay at home, and in various sis eg. styles and quantities. Just figure out what is required to do all these COMFORTABLY, and you oan makeaflS estimate of the value of the BUYEBB' GUIDE, which will be sent upon receipt of 10 oents to pay Dostaffe. MONTGOMERY WARD A CO. 111-114 Michigan Avenue, Chioago.il]. I ic s/* i. •M 3 \4 Tim lot