Newspaper Page Text
®ie Dead-Beat Nuisance.
THE processes by which the dead beat is made are various. A young man of bad habits goes on to worse, until, as business becomes slack, he is discharged. From that day forth his clothes grow shabby. lie begins to borrow from those who knew him in better days with the promise and, at tirst, with the purpose, of paying but at l:ist he wears out his friends, and begins to prey upon society at large. He has no resource but borrowing— borrowing on the basis of any story that he can invent. He wants money to bury his wife, his child, to feed a starving family, to get to some place where lie lias friends. Many pretend to belong in the South, and are only anxious to get back. Many in New York have just come from the South, their trunks pawned for passage-mon ey, and they w mt to get to Boston. Some are just from a hospital, where they have for a long time been ill. They have been dismissed without money, and want to reach their friends. The ingenious lies that are peddled about New York, in any single day, by men and women fairly well dressed, for the purpose of extorting from sympathetic and benevolent people, sums varying from one dollar to twenty-five dollars, would make a series of narratives quite sufficient to set up a modern novelist. So earnestly and consistently are these stories told that it is next to impos sible to realize that they are not true yet we suppose that the experi ence of the general public, like all the private experience with which we are acquainted, proves that ninety-nine times in a hundred they are pure, or most impure inventions. The genteel female dead-beat is, per haps, the hardest to get along with. She puts on airs and dignities. She talks of her former fortune, and of her expectations, .she has sources of in come at present shut up, but sure to be opened in time. Or she has a small income, terribly inadequate, at best, but not yet due. She wants something to bridge over the gulf that yawns be tween the last dollar and the next. Sometimes she lubricates her speech with tears, but dignity, and great self respectl'ulness, and a beautiful show of faith in God and man, are her prin cipal instruments and it takes a purse t-liat shuts like a steel trap to with stand her appeals. Some of these women selfishly stay at home, or in some nice boarding-house, and push out their children, and even their young and well-educated daughters, to do their borrowing for them. One whom we know—confessedly a non-at tendant at any church—rails at the church for not supportinglier. ''Pret ty followers of Jesus Christ!" she thinks the church members are. The moment a man begins to lie for the purpose of getting money, or for the purpose of excusing himself for the non-payment of a debt, that mo ment he changes from a man to a dead beat. We thus have dead-beats in business as well as out of business— men who "shin" from day to day, and never know in the morning how they are to get through. They live con stantly by expedients. Of course, it cannot take long to reduce them to the most disgraceful dead-beats. We have already, in a previous num ber, chronicled the statement made by one of our most truthful public men, that there is in this city a house that liarbors the professional dead-beat, and furnishes him with romances to be used in the practical extortion of money. In this house there is a book kept, in which are recorded the names of benevolent men and women, with all their histories, traits, weak points, etc. These romances and this knowl edge are imparted in consideration of a certain percentage of the money col lected through their use. Whether we call this organized beggary or organized robbery, it matters little. The fact itself is enough to put every man upon his guard, and to make him decline (as a fixed rule, never to be de viated from, except in instances where liis own personal knowledge warrants liim in doing so) to give anything to anybody who comes to him with a story and an outstretched palm. Nine ty-nine times in a hundred the story is a lie, and the teller of it a professional dead-beat, who deserves to be kicked from the door. Personally, we have never known a case in New York city of this sort of begging or borrowing that was not a fraud. The money loaned never conies back, or the beg gar, by some forget fulness, comes round again. The only safe way to manage these importunate and adroit scamps is either to turn them over to the investigation of some society, or to call a police man. Fortunately, there is in a large number of houses the District tele graph, by the means of which a police man can be summoned in a minute or two, without the visitor's knowledge. In many instances, the policeman will know his man at first sight. Every dollar given to these leeches upon the social body is a direct encouragement to the increase of the pauper popula tion and, if the matter is still regard ed carelessly, we shall, in twenty years, be as badly off as Great Britain in this particular. What we give goes for rum, as a rule, and we not only foster idleness, but we nourish vice and crime. We need to make a dead set against tramps in the country and dead-beats in the city, if we wish to save our children from a reign of pau perism, only less destructive of the prosperity and the best interests of the country than the reign of war.—Dr. J. 6. Holland, in Srribner for August. Conditions Favoring the Produc tion of Malaria. LET ns now consider under what circumstances malaria may be pro duced. Although it cannot be denied that there are peculiar localities where, with apparently every presumed con dition existing for the development of malaria, that poison is entirely absent, yet the concurrencc of malarial eman ations with such conditions in innu merable places establishes beyond a question their direct relation. The essential element in the production of malaria would appear to be vegetable decomposition, and, in order that this process shall ensue, the simultaneous operation of air, moisture and a certain high range of temperature is absolute ly required. Localities, therefore, where such combination occurs are prolific of malaria. Of this character are swamps and morasses, alluvial de posits, loose, porous, sandy and argil laceous soils, or deep, loamy, marly lands underlaid by impermeable strata affording capacity for the retention of moisture, regions exposed to periodical or occasional inundations, places left bare l^y the subsidence of lakes or dry ing up of streams, and particularly areas subject to the intermingling of gait and fresh water—as salt marshes into which fresh streams discharge, or regions liable to tidal overflow and re cession. The exhalations from marsliv tracts are recognized by their effects upon the human system throughout the world and the fact that marshes bear a caus ative relation to malaria has been demonstrated in numerous instances by the disappearance of fever after thorough drainage and cultivation, and its reapiH'iirance ujKtn their being al lowed to relapse into neglect. The fa vorable effect of drainage and cultiva tion is owing both to the systematic removal of water near the surface, and most probably also to the absorption by the growing crops of the products of organic decomposition. On the same principle Prof. Maury succeeded in antagonizing the noxious emanations from a marsh surrounding the observa tory at Washington by planting it thickly with sunflowers, which seem to possess an extraordinary absorbing power. Sebastian is inclined to be lieve that the Calamus aromaticus which grows in some swamps has a similar neutralizing quality. Swamps covered with water are not so danger ous as those partially dry, the layer of water serving as a protection against the access of air and heat to the vege table matter underneath. A Terrible Shipwreck Experi ence. Inthe month of July, 1875, an En glish ship, the Isabella, sailed from the port of Newcastle Harbor, in Austra lia, bound for Hong-Kong. Either through the ignorance of the Captain or driven by adverse winds, the Isa bella left the regular route followed by ships upon this voyage, and ran aground upon some reefs in latitude 1!) deg., 1 mill., 10 sec. south, longi tude i."8 deg., 27 mill., 3 sec. east marked as the Hampton reefs upon the maps. This was on the 4th of July. 187.", toward two a. m. The ship was laden with iron and coal, and conse quently all hopes of setting her afloat again had to be given up. The vessel had to be abandoned, but the Captain did not think that was enough. She had beside the crew nineteen Chinese passengers aboard, who, after having passed some time in Australia, were returning to their country. The Cap tain and crew abandoned these unhap py people and went off in small boats to an island in "sight, which they have since discovered was Bound Island The following day and the one after passed without the crews returning for the Chinese left upon the reefs at last, becoming desperate, ten of the latter jumped into the water and were drowned in attempting to swim to the land. Meanwhile this is what haj» pened on the Bound Island. The Cap tain, together with the second mate and eight of the crew, left in the gig with the intention of reaching the coast of Australia, leaving upon the strip of sand ten persons. For pro visions they left them fourteen pounds of bread. There was absolutely no water, and for clothes all they pos sessed was what they had on. The shipwrecked crew accepted their fate with resignation ami promised to wait patiently for some passing ship which would take them aboard. The second oflicer, with whom we have had the pleasure of conversing for a few mo ments, told us that they did not de ceive themselves while trying to con sole one another in reality they only counted upon some unforeseen chance to deliver tlieni. They knew, of course, that they had diverged from the* regu lar route. There were scarcely even a few tufts of bushwood upon the island. These served them as a shelter, and they went about in search of food. The island being too small to have any game uion it, they were obliged to catch sea-gulls and to gather shell-fish. Food, however, such as it was, was suiliciently abundant that was not the greatest cause of their suffering. What nearly proved fatal to them was the dearth of water, and three of them perished for the want of it. The only water they could procure was rain water, and several times they passed several weeks without being able to quench their burning thirst. Three or four times they saw vessels on their way to China, but they were at too great a dist ince for their signals to be noticed. After each one of these disappoint ments their despair grew greater, and the last of these unhappy beings was nearly at death's door, when, for the fifth time, a ship was in sight, but this time at a less distance than the pre ceding ones. Hope began to dawn in the survivors of the craw of the Isa bella, and their joy w is without bounds when they saw the vessel, a schooner, come about and steer for the Bampton reef. If any of the Chinese were still living there, they would probably tell their deliverers that the crew had sought refuge upon a neigh boring island, and boats would be sent for tlieni. They were saved. Provi dence so decided. The Captain of the schooner, the Laura Lind, had noticed the wreck of the Isabella, and, suppos ing that some of the crew might have survived the disaster, sailed to the reef. Of the seventeen Chinese, four were living, and the account of their miserable existence during six months was something heartrending. Without water or provisions, they had endured the same privations as the crew, and had witnessed three of their number perish with hunger and thirst. Sev eral times, they said, they had resolute ly stretched themselves upon the ground, patiently awaiting the death that would put an end to their horri ble situation. But at the sight of an easily-caught sea-bird or threatening weather, which promised them water, the feeling of self preservation got the better of tlieni, and they began to hope again. Thanks to the position of the reefs they were better enabled to see passing ships than the crew upon Round Island, but their deceptions were no greater. At last they de spaired of ever again seeing their country, and beheld themselves con demned to die on a surf-beaten rock, in sight of land, when, on the 2d of Jan uary, they saw the schooner mentioned above steering toward them. They immediately gave distress signals, which were answered, and on the same day they were welcomed by Capt. Lind, whom they never tire of prais ing. New clothes, abundant and choice food—nothing was spared to re store them from their past sufferings. More generous than the crew had been, they informed the Captain that there might still be some survivors of the ship's company on the island in sight. Happy in being able to save these oth er unfortunates, Capt. Lind went to the island and rescued four English men, whose appearance was anything but promising. For some time every vestige of clothing had disappeared. They were completely naked, and much sunburnt. They were rescued the Oth of January, six months after the wreck. The tap tain treated them with the same kind ness he had treated the Chinese. They set sail for Nodmea, which they reached on the 15th of April. It is probable that the Captain of the Isabella, with the second mate and some of the crew, reached an Aus tralian port. It is impossible to ex plain how he could have been so ig norant of the laws of humanity as not immediately to have had measures taken to save the remnant of his crew. It is true that it is also difficult to un derstand how a whole crew could cool ly abandon to almost sure death the seventeen Chinese passengers of the Isabella.—Cor. Paris Figaro. A Hateful Habit. TIIE attention of medical men in this great Republic is called to the in judicious and alisolutely hateful habit, much in vogue in the rural districts and among early risers in the city, of getting up in the night to eat. This nocturnal meal is faintly disguised under the name of breakfast, and there is no doubt that it has much to do with creating, spreading and sustain ing the National disease, dysjiepsia. The custom is sometimes visited by severe judgments, but nothing seems able to deter its votaries from contin uing its practices. We once took sum mer boarding with a man who used to eat in the night and roused up all his household to share the unnatural meal. One night he stirred us all up at half past four o'clock to eat. We rose and ate. That very day his best cow im molated herself on a wire fence, one of his horses bit himself with a rattle snake, a reaping-machine ate up his best farm hand, a distant relative sent his youngest buy a drum, his wife took to writing poetry, and one of his most popular, talented and handsome boarders flitted, leaving an unpaid summer's board bill to remember him by. The latter circumstance is indel ibly impressed upon our memory, and we often think of it in connection with the somewhat striking coincidence that we have never been in that county since.- Jiurlington Hawk-Eye. HAVING DONE ALL, TO STAND. QAVIXO done all, to staid'1—the words ring down Th' echoing corridors of time. No frown Of adverse fortune when in fickle mood No fear of foes that lay in wait for blood Tiie venonied sting of friendship. false and dead When .•oreat needed not the crushing tread Of hitter grief upon the bleeding heart: Nor yet tbe great arch-fiend's mo#t subtle dart, Could from those lips tbe smallest tribute wring That conquering cried. Oh, Death: where is thj sting? Oh. lirave! where is thy victory?*' lie stood fast Through light and storm finished his coarse at last And. having kept the faith, the battle won. Received the crown from God's Eternal Son. should I then pimply stand my work abate Sit idly down, folding my hands, and wait Trusting that («»d will order all thing* rightf Not «o! Am I not called upon to light? Something there is to do. for mo, for all The hristiuns* trumpets to a ba tlc call. And yet ro.*is«tai:ce win?. Tn years long fled. When Carthage threatened Home with vengeancc dread, One mau, when many others fought iu vain, By watchful waiting won a great campaign. Often or. eome lone rock, amidst tbe roar Of w.ndsand wave* that Ja.-h the .savage shore, With »re and skill i* reared the massive tower. Thai bold defies the whirling tempest'#! power. Scorning the foes tb:»t in the billowy link. I unwed »t stands, and. standing, does its work Ami. I hough it move not. yet amid the crash Of warring element*, the wclcome Hash Sends life and hope to thousand*. With earnest, patient purpose Stand and resi«t the billows I And. as the lighthouse lenses The feeble lamps, so. though The young disciple and the $or §ounq So may we, steadfastly nssing high multiply nr light be faint, saint thousand-fold intensity impart, Hellccted fiQm the mirror of a heart liuruished by low from Cod. Nor shines in vain. If from the deep death of the angry main One soul be saved, though hundreds, tern pest to«s«-d. Heedless of warning, sink forever lost. Of all sad thoughts that through the memory roll, The saddest this—I might have warned a aotil. So should we strive to keep the mirror bright, Thar o'er life's sea mny shine our feeble li»ht With childlike faith, holding our Father's hand, Always look up. and, "having done all. stand/' —V.\ A*. Carter, in X. Y. Obtercer. International Sunday-School bessons. TIII11D QL'ARTElt, 187*5. Kind's 10: Aug. tt. Solomon's Prosperity Aug. Tin-Call of Wisdom... l*rov'bs 1: -Jo -&} Aug. *ju. The Value of Wisdom. Prov'bs H: 1 -19 Aui'. Hon. st Industry Prov'bs fi— is Sept. :i IWhs* Sept. to. The Excellent Woman. Pmv b:u io.-ai Sept. 1T..A (-odly Life Keel 12: 1—U Sept.2J.Review or a Lesson selected by the I tchool. The Highest Good. MAN is always in search of what he thinks the highest good—the thing that will make him happiest. His very sins arc attempts to be happy, foolish and delusive indeed, but real efforts to save himself from misery, to reach a good that will shed over his life peren nial gladness and beauty. But the ,ood all seek some may fail to find, not /Ccause it does not exist for them, but ••cause their search is misdirected, an attempt to extract the sweet from what is essentially bitter. The claims of the world are too im perious and manifold to leave the soul either opportunity or energy to regard those of God. And so men who wish to be gooil after a diviner sort than the mere secular honesty that is only the policy necessary to success in life, often find that they cannot: business, trade, will not let them hourly neces sities, demanding hourly thought and effort, stand in the way. They would like to love God, live in His Kingdom, obey His laws, anticipate His heaven, but time absorbs their energy the labor needed to obtain food and rai ment forbids. So after a hard struggle to serve God and Mammon, the necessities of the hour prevail God is forsaken, as far as possible forgotten, that the world may be served through and through. Seeking first what they shall eat, what they shall drink, and wherewithal they shall be clothed, they seek 110 further, want 110 more, live and die with their immortal being sacrificed to the needs of their mortali ty.—A. M. Fairbaim. GOOD prayers never come weeping home. I am sure I shall receive either whut I a#k er what I should ask.— BithopHaB, §etderis. THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT. On, Jack was the fellow who lived long ago. And built him a house, ae you very well know, With chimneys so tall, and a cupola, too. With windows set thick where the light could go through. And this is the house that Jack built Now Jack be was so tender-hearted and true. He loved every dear little childling that grew. "The old folk can do very well without me, And I'll be tbe friend of the children," quoth he. So away in his store-room he stored up a heap Of corn-bags well tilled, full seven yards deep! While rauged very uear ihem. in beautiful show. Were a great many corn-poppers selin a row! Aud this is the corn that lay iu the Uou«e that Jack built. And a blazing red fire was ever kept glowing. By a great pair ot bellow's that ever kept blowing And then- stood the children, tiie dear little souls, A-Phuking their coru popper^ over the coals. SoiUi a motherly rat. seeking food for her young, Came prying and peeping the corn bags among. I'll take home a supply," said this kindest of mothers "My children like corn quite as well ae those other-." And this is the rat, etc. Hun quick. Mother Hat! Oh, if you but knew How slyly old Tabby is watching for yon! She's creeping so softly—pray, pray do oot wait! She springs!—she has grabbed you!—ah, now 'tis too late! And this i9 the cat, etc. Too late. yes, too late! All your struggles are vain You never will see those dear children again! All sadly tbey sit iu their desolate borne. Looking out for tbe mother that never will come. When Pussy had finished, she said, with a smile, 1 think I will walk in the garden awhile, And there take a nap in some sunshiny spot." Boso laughed to himself, as he said: "I think notP Just as Puss shuts her eyelids, oh! what does she hear? Bow-wow and 4*Bow-wow!" Said Bose to himself: What n great dog am I? When my voice is beard, who dares to come nigh? Now I'll worry that cow. Ha. ha, ha! Oh. if she Should ruu up a pole, how fuuny "t would bel"1 Poor Bose! you will wish that you'd never been born When you bark at that cow with the crumpled horu. 'Way you go. with a to^s, high up in the air! Do you like it. old Bose? Is it pleasant up there? And this is the cow, ete. Now. when this old Molly, PO famous in etory. Left Bose on the groitad. all bereft of his glory. She walked to the valley as fast as she could, Where a dear little maid with a milkiug-pail stood. And this is the maiden, etc. Alas! a maiden all forlorn was she. Woful and sad, and piteous to see! With weary step she walked, and many a sigh Her cheek was pale, a tear bedimmed her eye. She sat her down, with melancholy air. Among the flowers that bloomed so sweetly there Aud thus, with clasped hands, she made her moan: Ah. me I" she said. Ah. me! Pm all alone! In all the world are none who care for me In all the world are none I care to see. No one to me a kindly message brings Nobody gives me any pretty things. Nobody asks me am I sick, or well. Nobody listens when I've aught to tell. Kiud words of love I've never, never known. Ah. me!1' she said. 'tis sad to be alone!" Now up jumps the man all tattered and torn, Aud be says to the maiden: "Don't sit there, for lorn. Behind this wild rosebush I've heard all you said. And I'll love and protect you, you dear lit.le maid! For oft ha\e I bid there, so bashful and shy. And peeped through the roses to see you go by I know every look of those features so fair, I know every curl of your bright golden hair. My garments are iu bad condi.ion. uo doubt But the love that I give you shall nevet wear oat. Now, I'll be the husband if you'll be the wife. And together we'll live without trouble or strife." And this is the man, etc. Thought the maid to herself Oh. what beautiful words! Sweeter than music or singing of birds! How pleasant will be thus to live all my life With this kind lit le mau, without trouble or strife! If hi" clothe- are all tattered and torn, why,'tis plain What he need- i a wife that can mend them And he brought them to such sorry plight, it mny be. 'Mong the thorns of the roses, while watching for And when this wise maiden looked up in his face, she saw there a look fu!l of sweetness and grace. Twas a truth-telliug face. "Yes. I'll trust you," said she. "Ah. a kiss I must take, if you trust me!'* quoth he "And since we're so happily both of a mind, We'll set off together the priest for to find." Now. hand in hand along they pass. Tripping it lightly over the grass, By pleasant ways, through fields of flowers. By shady lanes, through greenwood bowers. Tiie bright little leaves they dance in the breeze, And the hirdssing merrily up in the trees! The maiden smiles as they onward go Forgotten now her longing and woe And the good little man he does care for her so! lie cheers the way with his pleasant talk^ Finds the softest paths where her 'eet may walk, Stays her to rest in the sheltered nook. Guides her carefully over the brook, Lifts her tenderly over the stile. Speakim: so cheerily all the w hile: And plucks the prettiest wild flowers there. To deck the curls of her golden hair. Says the joyful maid: "Not a flower that grows Is so fair for me as the sweet tcil'l rone.'^ Thu« journeying on, by greenwood and dell. They came, at last, where the priest did dwell— A jolly fat priest, as I have heard tell A jolly fat priest, all shaven and shorn. With a long, black cassock so jauntily worn. And this is the priest, etc. Uood morrow, Sir Priest! will yon marry us two?" •kThat I will." said the priest, "if ye re both lovers true! But when, little man. shall your wedding-day be?'* 44 If a man thinks self the highest be ing in the universe, the supreme law or god, then he will think the best thing self-indulgence, and the only fruit such n highest and best can yield is a calamitous misery. Passion can never create pleasure. A self-centered becomes a self-tortured life, a curse to the man that lives it, an offence to our common humanity, a grief to our com mon Father. The highest good must be the holi est, for happiness and holiness coalesce, are only different sides of the same thing. And so a man to get the one must seek the other, seek it alone where it can be found, in the kingdom of (iod. 15iit the way to it many find made impassable by the hard and merciless necessities of life. The struggle to satisfy the ceaseless hunger of the present seems to forbid thought afid action in the future. To-morrow, good Priest, if you can agree. At the sweet hour of sunrise, when tbe new Is rosy and fresh iu its morning array. When flower* are awaking, and birds full of glee. At the top of the morning our wedding shall bel And since friends we have none, for this wedding No guests shall there be, save the birds and the flowers And we'll stand out among them, in sight of them aU. Where the pink and white blooms of the apple tree fall." "Odzooks!" cried the priest u To-morrow, at sun-rising, under the tree!" Next morning, while sleeping his sweetest sleep, The priest was aroused from his slumbers deep By the clarion voice of chanticleer. Sudden and shrill, from the apple-tree near. "Wake up! wake tip!" it seemed to say Make up! wake up! there's a wedding to-day!' And this was the cock that crowed in tbe morn. That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn. That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog. that worried the cat, that caught the rat. that ate the corn that lay in 'he house that Jack built. -Abby Mwlon Diaz, in St. Xirholatfor August, Formation of Granite. WE know that quartz requires a higher temperature to melt it than does cither the feldspar or the mica, and so, had the granite been formed as are regular volcanic rocks in the ordi nary way of igneous fusion, we should certainly have found that the quartz would have crystallized before either the feldspar or the mica, and it would have been seen in definite crystalline form, and its crystals would have in terfered with and penetrated those of the other mineral constituents of the rock. Again, if we look carefully at the quartz with a moderately high power, we shall see in it certain small cavities, and some of these will be seen to contain a certain amount of liquid, and also an ail-bubble, which will move is the specimen is moved. This liquid hits been proved to be water, and from the fact of its not en tirely filling the cavity we learn that a reduction of temperature has taken tolerably certain that the granite was formed under peculiar circumstances it has never been such a purely molten rock is is the lava of a volcano, which is poured out from its crater to the Sitting Bull's Biography—What tiie Sioux Kxpcct. SITTING BI LL is a Teton-Sioux and only thirty-live years of age. C'apt. McOarry, of the steamer Benton, tells me that he has known Sitting Bull about the l'pierMissouri trading-posts for many veal's. lis principal barter ing place was at Fort Peek, though of late years he and his band have follow ed the buffalo north 011 the Nouris and Pembina rivers, and have bartered their robes and tongues for guns and ammunition with the French half breeds of Manitoba. Sitting Bull was a convert and friend of Father De Smet, who taught him to read and write French. He has always scorned to learn Knglish, but is a fair French scholar. In the Dakota language he is also versed, and declared to be a i greater orator than Little Pheasant, chief of the Yanktonnais. Capt. Mc (iarry says he knows that Sitting Bull has read the French history of Napo leon's wars, and believes that he has modeled his generalship after the little very close at her ear. Now away up a pole all trembling she springs, Aud there, on its top, all trembling, she clings. And this is the dog, etc. Corsiean Corporal. Sitting Bull has never accepted an overture of peace, the report that he gave in his adhesion to Sully to the contrary notwithstand ing. lie has always been an unrelent ing and vindictive savage—to the Americans what Sehaniyl was to the Russians. Father De Smet kept the Teton-Sioux from the war-path until 1808. lie then left the Upper Mis souri, and Sitting Bull became a chief. Xo organized effort was made to array the Sioux nation against the whites until after the Minnesota massacres of 18(i:i, when the Sioux were driven west of the Missouri into the bad lands and mountains of Dakota. Sitting Bull aspired to the leadership, but Red Cloud, Spotted Tail, Little Pheas ant, and the Ogalalla Sitting Bull Chiefs repudiated him. From that time he lia.s been a malcontent, and at war with the chiefs of the Sioux na tion, though he has by his persuasive arts of oratory seduced many hun dreds of their young braves into his ranks. lie is also largely reinforced by young braves from the Crees and Assiniboins of Manitoba. Every summer for five years he has been up north among these tribes, and now they are flocking to his standard. If these reports are to be believed, and I have 110 reason to question tlieni, when he next makes a stand against the Federal troops he will have in the neighborhood of 5,000 warriors, every one armed with repeating rifles. A great ileal is expected from Sitting Bull's inability to take care of the wounded already on his hands, and which is a sacred duty among the In dians. If he has not »nt his wounded north among his Manitoba friends he will do so before he hazards another tight. The telegraphic report of Capt. Smith, who brought Jleno's wounded down, that Terry had found the biers of nine chiefs killed in theengagement with Custer, is a mistake. They were the remains of sub-chiefs and braves killed by Custer when he was with Stanley in 1S71. The Sioux custom is to carry off their dead braves to a se cluded valley, and, after the custom ary mourning period luis expired, to lay out the dead braves on a platform high enough to be beyond the reach of wolves or coyotes.—Cor. Chi rag• Tri bune. Centennial Tree-Planting'. THK report goes from newspaper to newspaper, of a zealous citizen, in one of our Northern States, who lias com memorated the Centennial year of our Independence by the extensive plant ing of trees. We wisfi the newspapers that chroni cle this act of patriotic forethought could inspire their readers with a hearty emulation thereof, so that, ere the year ends its course, every house hold shall have planted its share of trees—shall have given to the future its contribution toward highways tem pered by refreshing shade, and have added to the number of cottages that shall nestle under the fretted network of green leaves. what a wedding we'll see Could we devise a better way for signally commemorating this epoch in our National life? Each tree thus planted would be a monument of our reverence of the past, and a blessing for the future and by this generous forethought the next Centennial would be celebrated in a land of orchards, of wooded hills, of green lanes, of groves that would lie fit temples for the Drymls, of towns hid among arching boughs, of urban and suburban places crowned with sylvan beauty. In an zealous devotion to the cultiva tion of trees we should strengthen and perpetuate one of the best characteris tics of our National towns. Could we have sent to the Philadelphia Exhibi tion the street of an American village —one of those elm-lined avenues, with embowered cottages standing back from the highway, which are so abun dant in our land—we should have shown our foreign visitors a feature captivating in its beauty, and yet one peculiarly our own. The traveling American may feel fresh interest in the narrow streets and quaint old houses of European towns but this is pure novelty of sensation, for the American village is constructed upon i» principle that gives it preeminently place since the water was first caught up by the quart/., causing the contents the palm of beauty and healthl'uluess. of the cavities to contract. Some- Unfortunately, these tree-lined ave times we shall find other cavities, nues too often stop at the borders of which, instead of containing water, the town tiie traveler emerges from contain small crystals, or even air only. I umbrageous shade into long stretches Now, from all these facts it appears I of $tndy roadway, upon which the summer sun pours down with unin terrupted fierceness. How easy it might have been in the years past for the people of the towns to have come together and stretched their avenues i'w""' iiuui no (.iniri iu inu i tuuimu'L mu aiit'liiiiu tm-*i light of day. AVe gather that it w is of arching boughs from village to vil- f''°"u rather formed at great depths in the earth, where it may have been partial ly melted, partially subjected to the action both of water and of steam, charged with various mineral sub stances, and subjected to enormous pressure. What the original condition of granite was we cannot tell some have gone so far as to think that it may have been that of a sedimentary rock, which has been metamorphosed by the forces just alluded to. Hut, whatever the primary state of granite may have been, its present condition shows it to belong undoubtedly to the' igneous class of locks, but to have been formed under conditions differ ing from those which have given rise to lavas reaching the surface. As far as can be gathered, the granite rocks, as such, have never seen the light of day until exposed by denudation, etc. their origin was deep in the central portions of ancient volcanoes, where, by partial melting and slow cooling, under intense pressure, and in the pres ence of some water, the various miner als came together ami crystallized into granite.—Jier. J. 31. 3M!o. in Popular Science Monthly for August. lage! Had this been done, we could now show our Centennial visitors the most truly beautiful land in the world. For neither mountains, nor lakes, nor broad rivers, nor green valleys, have the highest charm of landscape beau- tv. A mountain without trees at its 1 pom' in pans and let it cool. base, or upon its sides, is commonly a BOILED PI'DDINO.—Take one-lialf lumpish mass a lake whose shores are cup of suet, chopped fine, one cup of not bordered with towering monarchs i raisins, two cups of flour, one cup of of the forest is deprived of the setting milk, one cup of molasses and one tea which gives to expanses of water their spoonful soda. Tie in a cloth and boil greatest charm and a valley that is well for two hours. Serve with rich not broken with orchards, and dotted sauce. in its meadows with wide-spreading COTTAGE CHEESE. trees, has 110 sylvan grace whatsoever. In a rural picture trees have the first, the last, and tiie intermediate place in hang till well dried slice and eat with the scale of beauty other objects set i cream and sugar. A quicker way of off or vary the picture, but trees have making it, is to set the clablier on the the essential place. A swiftly-running stove a moment or two, then strain it, stream, for instance, broken into cas- and salt it a little. cades, is very beautiful when shad- BAKED INDIAN PUDDING. Two owed by trees but it is nothing if the quarts sweet milk one pint New Or light docs not fall upon its surface leans molasses one pint Indian meal broken by interlacing boughs, or if one talilespoonful butter nutmeg or green vistas do not hold it in myste rious depths of shadow. The tree is almost as desirable in cities as it is upon country by-ways or in rustic villages. It screens the prom enader at high noon from the down ward rays of the sun it confers whole someness upon the atmosphere it gives seclusion and pleasant coolness to the house before which it stands: its masses of green foliage are grateful to the eye inflamed by the glare of re flected sunlight from the brick walls it lets into the apartment whose win dows it screens a charming, graduated light it takes, without our aid, life 0 from the air and from the soil, and builds up silently forms of beauty that art cannot equal it charms, indeed, all the senses with a generous dower of gifts which we cannot too highly praise. Too often we are heedless in plant ing trees, and then complain of our want of success. AVe should begin by selecting those that are adapted to local climatic conditions, and we should choose only those that are hardy and have long life and if, after making a careful selection, we simply see to it that the roots are planted in a deep and nourishing soil, we need give our selves no further concern the tree makes it own life, and, expanding with the seasons, will ust grateful shadows for many generations of men that fol low us. It is not too late for earnest action in furtherance of our suggestion. Let a few zealous men in every town orga nize, during the summer, an association pledged to plant, when autumn conies, a hundred trees in symbolical com memoration of the Centennial. AVe doubt if the patriotic enthusiasm of our people could manifest itself iu a better way than this.—EiIitor's Table, Apphtons' Journal for August. Soiuethiii" Xovcl in Poinolog A FEW years ago a gentleman living in the suburbs which was fixed at ten dollars apiece. For keeping thev mav be canned like I The trees came in due time and were set out. In two years from the time of planting they bore a small, round russet pear, that hung oil the trees un til late in October. About this time the very same agent made his appear ance, and, being reminded of the con tract to furnish Bartletts, he asked to be allowed to examine the trees and fruit, the latter still hanging 011 the trees. He examined both carefully, and suddenly turning toward his vic tim, said with a stern expression: Well, sir, when I sold you those trees 1 supposed you were a well-read, intelligent man but now I am of a different opinion." This very singular remark brought forth the query, Why V" from the owner. "'Why!" was the response from tbe agent, "to think of a man of culture at this day aud age who does not know the fact that a Hartlett tree never bears liart lett pears the first year." The gentle man admitted his ignorance, and the peddler left master of the situation. Some weeks after the victim made in quiry of a neighbor to know if he was aware of this strange phenomenon in horticulture. Since then this tree agent has not made his jippearance in this section of the country.—P. T. Qtunn, in Scribner's 3fonthly. A Faithful Cashier. Ax official life of thirty-four years in one position, says the correspondent of the Ilartford Times, was closed a few days ago by the death of William Puer Kobinson, cashier of the N'ew York Custom House. For fifteen years at least the reputation of the Custom House has been notoriously bad, but during all those years, and the nine teen others which Mr. Hobinson had passed in the cashier's ollice, 110 breath of suspicion ever touched his charac ter. He was appointed in 1S42, and so valuable were his services as cashier that, no matter what other changes were made, his removal was never thought of. Puring his long HEALTH is promoted and life pro longed by what are called comforts— the comforts of good living, including plenty of the best food prepared in the best manner. —It is said that wearing a pen-hold er or pencil over the ear will straighten a pair of cross-eyes. The idea that it made a man look profound and digni fied lias been abandoned. THE latest thing out is a Centennial eagle fan. By a pressure on the handle, the outstretched wings of the bird are made to Hip and flop. epill: HOUSEHOLD HINTS. co water, or the tobacco and arsenic solution recommended by English FKIED CAKES.—Two cups of sugar, gheplierds. There is no danger to one pint of cream, two-thirds of a cup s ]j0ep or of buttermilk, three sggs, one tear .md i:i ., 110 s These are nice. BUTTER SCOTCH CANDY.—One cup of molasses, one of sugar, and one-half a cupful of butter. Mix them to gether, and cook until it will stiffen when dropped in water. When done Take hard "clabber," place it in a sack thin enough for the whey to drip out, let it cinnamon. Boil the milk pour it over the lnfal and molasses add salt and spice bake three hours. This is a large family pudding. CHOCOLATE ICE-CUEAM.—For this take one pint of new milk, and add to it by degrees two cups of sugar and two eggs. Then, before returning to the fire, add to it five tablespoonfuls of chocolate, rubbed smooth in a little milk. Beat j^ell for a moment or two, then place over the fire again, and heat until it thickens well, stirring it constantly. 'When it has been set off, and becomes quite cold, stir in a quart rich cream, and put in the freezer, BOILED CAULIKLOWKK. Having chosen cauliflowers of a gooil color, strip off the outside leaves and trim away the tops of the inner leaves cut off the stalk at the bottom and pare away the other husky skin from it and the branches, llaving washed, lay them head downward in a pan of cold water and salt, which will bring out all insects and boil them open in a drainer in plenty of boiling water, with a little salt some cooks uhl a bit of sugar skim the water well from ten minutes to fifteen will boil them. When the stalks are nearly tender they are ready. VERJUICEPICKLES.—To large green grapes add an equal measure of water and half the same measure of small cu cumbers, or strips of ripe cucumber peeled and seeded. Stew in a porce lain-lined kettle until the cucumber is somewhat tender, and add a little sugar. Xo rule can be given for pro- portions here, some grapes are so much sourer than others but unless they have begun to ripen a little, sweetening of some kind will be needed to take away the harsh taste. AVhen this is scalded in, set all away to cool in a jar, seeing that the cucumber is well covered with grape juice. Serve I the cucumbers cold. If the whole cu cumbers do not take the verjuice A1 #f New York, anxious iUld bear fruit soon, contracted with a tree agent for some JJartletts, the price of heat scalding hot, but do not cook to have lar,Te Dear trees that wouhl! i 7 ±. soap-iehllers. Uesiilrs the w iwuhii^ |»tu Iieex ui.ii w muu t0o much. Tender bean-pods aiul most othcr things commtmlv use(l fwr k.s, lambs, if properly applied, reason lWe lre Wood Ashes. THE most accessible and cheapest form in which potassa is obtainable i wood ashes, which every count)} house-keeper should carefully collect from the hearth. Mr Austin P. Nichols, of the Boston Journal Chemistry, has recently made som analyses of ashes taken from the hearth, with the following potassa re sults FotatfBft 12.55 12.64 12.5!' Carbonate of iotasf i 18.38 18 55 18.4^ "The wood from which the ashes came consisted of a mixture of hickory and beech. The results show the amount of pure potassa and carbonate of potassa which the ashes contained but the absolute alkali power and value as represented are best shown in the amount of crude or commercial potassa held in the ashes. One hundred lbs. held lbs. of alkaline salts, soluble in water, and consequently, if we estimate the value of commercial potassa at eight cents per pound, we have a cash potassa value iu these ashes of Ss.tiO in each 100 lbs. A bushel of dry ashes weighs about :u lbs. this would give a potassa value to each bushel of fifty-three cents. The ordinary ashes, such as are col soap boilers, are usually not so rich in alkaline co). jstituents. The mean potassa value i in (he „mllU.y liy i these ashes, estimated upon the value I here adopted, we have found to be about forty-two cents per bushel. From these results it is clear that the fanner had better retain his aslu's for farm usi* than to sell throughout, set the jar upon the stove i ,, U,e 1k.k. "SUil"y 1 lt tassil ,„av be treated in' the same wav. |'T"" S,1f1' fruit but the cucumbers should be very small or have the seeds removed. Beans are very difficult to keep when canned.—Xnienr of Health. Sheep iu Summer. AFTER the llocks are sheared and turned out to pasture, too many farm ers are apt to neglect tlieni, especially as the grain and hay harvest requires immediate and constant attention, and, in good weather, give but little time I for attention to anything else, is, nevertheless, 110 stock 011 the farm which repays so much for a little every-day attention as do sheep. They are, naturally, of a roaming disposi tion, not always satisfied with their pastures, even if abundant but like to creep through or under the fence into fresh and untrodden fields. AVhere the crooked rail fences surround the sheep pastill e, there are sure to be openings between rails, wider at one end than the other. Through one of these a sheep will push its head, and eat greed ily all the grass within reach, appar ently 110 better or sweeter than that in the pasture. In such a case it often occurs that if the opening be wider at the lower end, the sheep will work its head along upward till the highest point commonly called "hung." Here it will remain until it starves to death, unless released by some one. In hot, showery weather, sheep (Merinos) are liable to a disease of the foot called "fouls." Unless this be cured before the formation of pus in the cleft of the hoof, it sometimes is apparently contagious, and the flock becomes considerably affected. I11 this case the usual remedies for "foot-rot" are required to cure the flock. The fanner who daily sees his flock is apt occupancy of the office the enormous t° notice whether any sheep is lame, sum of Sti,000,000,000 ptissed through and if any sueh case is noticed, the suf liis hands without one ceut of loss to fering animal can be cured without han- the Government. Ilis death is attributed to the worry of mind he suffered from the unex plained disappearance of a gold certifi cate for 000 from his ollice several months ago. The amount wits made good to the Government, but the mat ter preyed so much on "the faithful cashier that he grew ill and gradually sank till death at last took him away. In such times as these it is 110 small honor to a man to say that he had held a public office thirty-four years, hand led $6,000,000,000 of Government money, and died with a name above reproach. Hut Mr. Robinson came of the old revolutionary stock, and in herited its sterling virtues. ling the flock, or even, if the farmer a skillful shepherd, without taking the e-—, HMum litMiig me thick to a pen, or distnrbingany except the ailing sheep. A little vial of salve In order that there —AYrhy do honest ducks dip their heads uuderwaterV To liquidate their tion is proof sufficient that that drug is little bills. i -Why is an umbreJtaltte .SW'! value as fertilizing material. It is to say that every bushel of true wood ashes which a farmer produces upon his hearth is worth to him for farm use, forty cents in gold. It is, then fore, very poor husbandry to sell tlieni for twenty cents the bushel, as many do. We value ashes so highly that of fers for them are rejected, no matter I what they may be. "In the mixture of raw bone meal and ashes, recommended by us years ago, we get uite all thevalua The,'.1 I ,)le constituents of plant food, and at cheaper rates than in any other mix tures. We have used this combina tion for many successive seasons, with most satisfactory results. We confi dently expect that the German potassa products will before long stop the con- I sumption of wood ashes iu the manu facture of American potassas, and it will be a happy day for our agricul-! tural industry, if the products of our wood fires are turned in the direction of the farm." is reached, where it will remain, sel-j garity. Coarse straw bonnets with dom know ing enough to go back if the flat crowns and trimmed with daisies head has to be depressed by so doing. and dried grass enjoy much favor. A If the opening is not wide enough for pretty little hat of white straw is the the sheep to pull its head through, at London, a fashion much worn bv the upper end, it then is fast, or is girls. The rim is bound with gra\ __ __ ITT velvet, and this material mingled with IT 1 ribbon encircles the crown ami at the. back forms loops and ends. A cluster of pink roses and a gray plume orna ment the side. The shape of the Lon don is somewhat similar to a turban: a round, low crown and the brim turned up all around, but not quite close to the crown.—N.Y.Cor. Chirm/,, Tribune. —The First (colored) Baptist hurcl 1 in Richmond, Va., has 2,700 members the Oilfield has 1,700 and the Third about 300. The Rebellion of the Stomach. The stomai li ubstinat.ely rel.els against all i on i e Pk'?8Urt,s th« tabic, or auv utlu ?an ^ed in the pocket when vis ltmg the sheep pasture, and a single iviief tiian from auv other muii-cc application will cure an attack of fouls, if given when the sheep first be-1 aml distribution of th" iiic, re-istaiiiishc s n comes lame. re"u'ar »f tiody when i-ostivim-ss v- i lsts, restores the appetite, soothes and invi«- may be as much PRATL-'S the nerves, and, if taken l.efore retir- V)S" conditions, the dvsiVptie or tnli its of the owner as by himself, it will regains lost flesh, his spirits elasticity, and alt the various and bodily and mental symptoms of be found a good plan to carry a little salt and give it to them at each visit. Sheep like a little salt every day, and any farmer of ordinary intelligence will soon learn how much to feed them at once so that they will be ready for a repetition of the dose the next (lay. This plan creates a perfect mutual un derstanding between the sheep and theii o\\ ner, and they soon become so tame that he can catch and examine any one of the flock without frightening the remainder. Some advise feeding a little sulphur with the daily salt, or perhaps once a week, to prevent foot rot and expel ticks. Several seasons' experience in this practice showed the uselessness of expecting any sach re sults from feeding sulphur. The foot rot has proved as virulent and the ticks as prolific when the sheep had sulphur schenrk, weekly as where none is fed The f,,.t »"d Mandrake Pin's ... ». tjikon hv ...w... ... that a tick will live in a vessel eon tabling sulphur until it dies of starva- digestion disappear. food. not poisonous to ticks. Within two or three weeks after a an egg? flock is sheared, the ticks should all I* It cannot stand arloan. killed by dipping the lambs into tobac- OSHV that the excellent efftvM of Dr ble remedies- Sea eed Tonic part i'*ular!v evident w hen injuriously* affected by a taken by th. change of water and diet. No person should lea« home without taking a supply of thes-e safeguard* along. For tale by all Druggists. FeJt?^rV-?WTlw\.0' MiIun' WILHOFT'S TO N I FALLIBLE!—Tliis trrcat 1"" K\ Cl)i!U without js taken that the animals' heads are not immersed so that the liquor gets into the eyes or mouth. If the sheep are dipped, as well as the lambs, there will not enough adhere to the udders of the ewes to sicken the lambs in the least, though some shepherds are so careful that they keep the Iambs from their dams for an hour or two, to permit the liquor to drain away. Still this is not necessary, as the proportion of arsenic is so small that it would take a pint of the liquor to nauseate or injure a lamb. The tobacco is the more dan gerous of the two ingredients. The salve for foot-rot or fouls is made 1! equal parts by weight of finely pulver ized blue vitriol and lard, well rubbe i together. T° and th.'ir Mil*. Nc,,TO|3uUjn„ 4 smptions to I,e mi,a-n„ ing peouniiirv i-niliorri... ""Is loss of health. It u thVfSiU'f ""d man, Iktuusc it enables hu, ot mg, and of the rich. I.waus •. '"rn to enjoy, his wealth, Tl,u ,.piri mankind is chcan, safe ami 5 a K FINI.AT & Co., PROPRIETORS J,RO,NP!- E. T.. ,v •', HiVm million Ki1h.n« Wlr ,. \v GEO, The farmer who gives his flock daily who visits them only twice in a month. for he never is required to hunt the neighboring fields or farms for an es caped animal or flock he has no huim sheep to put into his profit and loss ac count his cases of foot-rot are few. and not so general that himself an i hired man have to stop oft a day from the harvest to doctor sheep, and his sheep know liim and watch for his coming and are otherwise quiet- a gJtT great desideratum in keeping stocl profitably. Country Gentleman. ORmM BEST IN THE WOBIr.. 36,000 I3KT pull i in CKII. 7 7 W too,Mi,™ ,UM 1 t. Loi OA^WeeltSalnrrmvmWrttoiMW attention, really spends less time with f!^"t?w.p.forar«aton' tM-iioai^iaJg tlieni during the summer than the one A, Tltus "ay it llomo. Ati-nt,,, FLORIDA FRUiTS.Vv1Tt!!w'1 ls»fl» me In plautii^ urauge-. s.M. MUSK $125^ ^0.. tin BKO.VSOS, WELL AUGEET.3': our Align L.OU... U.S.AUL'erCo C.T T„, WATCHH3. c« i:0[.-LT£»*toj MI'S ITT, Ivanl','.!. EAB.IM OTPHI\TS nr th. MOXTII Xo. 1. Xo. 2. .Veil, f™" mid li'tn.irah 'f u OPIUHISrSiS •late. Describe cue. Dr. F. UuM MAKE MOO FREES TEASr/' inrrr..!*:!U A*'- PROTEOT'S,™? ENG&WERS-WO AGENTp VANTF.D FOS ol,til11"''1 .* •lsh,'s .""l""'1'",11 HISTC-G'THE 'S3' HuflV! l-.n 1 5 LOSS!NC'3?£FYl O I I I 3 I I WCHK. d'O.Vtli*A HISTORY MNITED CTATES t-*f »-i«- 5 ri b. VJ (&4n<£ deUgre/h Jr. DVANTAF ES Telffjnii SOME of the latest styles in millinery are very peculiar and not at all grace ful. The hats that turn up high on the left side anil are fastened with a feather and roses, are worn 011 the side of the head in a manner that must aj» lear to many people the height of vnl- The Enemy of Disease, the Fi I JL'ain to 31:III aud Beast, I, tlx- Old T-C n 1:\ 1., »!'A1V !Ol' (i:M: OH no.ni iY i \niVi T'' ¥111,K TO ITS Jl.Hilf TOl mkm u I WITHOUT uXE i'MLl UE Oil KUE^- This is th,' famous Thn-lilnj! "swept the field anil cmito' mm" a trade, by its MATCULESS INO priucipUd.<p></p>KrStm'i C-viBGA.- isisfeiaj 1 6uljeet -•cover their 13fl .AK i -iV&a id harassing V- V ,,'1! V/_ ghronit in-1 MANY who are suffering from the effects I *u TIIE n.,u* I Mu.'IJ ,'ATA'.'K. Impri'T ... pay all expense* of tlircn!:i:ig- i©r* FLAX, TIMOTHY, M11.LET, like seed® jire tLnva!i«'d, ei'i'iitim-a, aa and perfectly as W bwt, Oa of the warm weather and «ro debilitated are ad vised by physicians to take moderate amount* of whifky two or three times during the day. In a little while those who adopt thi* advice frequently increane the number of drinks," and in time be come confirmed inebriate*. A beverage which will not create, thirnt for intoxicating li.juor* and which is intended especially for the benefit of de- tially the ONLY MACHINE biliteted persons, whether at home or abroad, is Dr. Schenck s Sea Weed Tonic. Containing the juice.- of msny medicinal herb.-, this preparation does not create an appetite for the intoxicating cup. The nourishing and the life-supporting prop erties of many valuable natural production* con tained in it and well known to medical tneu have a most strengthening influence. A single bottle of the Tonic will demonstrate itK valuable, qualities. For debility arming from sickness, over-exertion. or from any cause whatever, a wineglasisful of Sea Weed Tonic taken after mealf will strengthen the stomach and create an appetite for wholesome all who are about leaving their homes AN EXTltA PRICK is u«ult.v Weds clv.im il by this nwchiue, lor eur IN THE WKT flUAlS 1^' aaiwuidwrij ,.SU «ld i:ny, wAe-u otlu-rs xittr' ly /~u-• ALL GRAIN, TIME™.. ... tiona, sueh an -EndK«» Aprons, I- irons. KA.W. iti.Jit dv"' ljr rriMim troubled t-y adv stouui- troubled f.y advorse wim^nuu w FAR9XEBS and GRAIN B.AISRW*^ in the largo ing mtule by '5.^^ y 1 largi and wasteful niarhir» improved Thresher »loiu^ tluii' FOUR SIZES made for t\ ?'\°D Powers. Aluo a npeculty of and uiade KXFKIW MA TWO STYLKS OF HOUSE proved "Triple Gear," and our tury Sty!e\ Kith Mounted en/e *bt*k Grain IF INTERESTKP in Threshing tw^&rcnlar '««nt fr-.-:, itiri'ng to" P»rtic' liL'™ aw* Prices, Terms, es, lerms, etc. /v, Nichols, Shepard*? BATTLE Tonn, wrote Im'.mii h»vc sold Shitllenberger's twelve years, and have never t!u'-v have not cured." Have rav for n WHEN 81V!Ilen,,Try^them. 4 r'» Pills will cure rou for one dollar. WRl'i'lNG I plea&e uny you th* I men! in thin paper*