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I 1 I THAT'S WHO I Who hypnotized me with her ways Until my heart was all ablaze With love, and every nerve appeared To be, like lightning, double geared? Lucinda. Who listened to my earnest pleas, And warmed toward me by degrees Until she called me Sam, and said I'd sort o' turned her little head? My sweetheart. Wlio let me kiss her one sweet night. Beneath the moon's white metal light. And said she'd ever cling to. me As clings the bark unto the tree? My betrothed. Who left the altar at my side, Dressed in the trappings of a bride. And said again and yet again I was the king of all the men? My wife. And now who often calls me down. Upon her face a vicious frown, And if to answer her I dare Entwines her Angers in my hair? Same girl. —Denver Post. THE SYRINGA HOME By- MAX BEIHIETT THRASHER. THE windows of the little church at Pebbly Center were open, and the soft, June breeze, passing through the audience room, fluttered the leaves of the hymn book which rested on the rack of the cottage organ in the choir. The air in the church was sweet with the perfume of flowers, for it was "chil dren's Sunday roses, syringa, jon quils, from the farmhouse gardens ferns and clematis from the woods. The pulpit, covered with a mass of greenish-white clematis, rose from a bank of ferns. On a little stand at the side some one had placed a huge vase, filled with mountain fringe, and the long, delicate stems, loaded with trem bling pink blossoms, moved softly in the wind. The opening services of the day had beeen gone through with, and a hush had fallen on the congregation. Pebbly Center had only that one church, and, as there had never been any of those violent spiritual dissensions which keep half the inhabitants of a place away from church because the other half goes, the wooden church, not over large, was generally well filled. The pastor, a dear old man, with a benignant face, and a voice which was in itself a benediction, came down from the pulpit to meet the little procession which ranged itself in a semicircle be fore the flower-dressed pulpit. I do not remember much more about the service except that, somewhere among the number, the pastor poised his hand to say: "Syringa May Elton, I baptize thee." The first name seemed so odd that it attracted my attention, and yet, in the flower-decked church, with syringa bushes full of blossoms in the yards outside, it seemed appro priate. I was new to Pebbly Center then. That was the first summer I had spent there, and at that time 1 had been in the town less than a week. I boarded that summer with the Jehoram Fen nels. They were always spoken of in that way to distinguish them from the family of Jehoram's brother Silas. After dinner I went out to sit on the big frost door step. There was a trel lis built over this step, covered with woodbine, and, barring the occasional descent from this of a harmless green spider, it was quite the pleasantest place about the house. I had a mag azine in my hands, but it had been so much more satisfactory merely to lean hack against the trellis and gaze oft' ever the huge valley and the roll of hills beyond, that I had done nothing but this when Mrs. Jehoram Fennel, having cleared away the dinner and washed the 'dishes, drew a cane-seat rocking-chair into the front hall and sat down to join me. Her husband had already retired to the one bit of daytime rest which his long, hard day's work allowed him, and his regular and not-too-loud-for-com fort breathing from the lounge in the sitting-room showed how thoroughly he was enjoying it. Mrs. Fennel brought with her a palm leaf fan and the last number of a re ligious paper. She had never read any thing but religious literature on Sun day and I fancied she looked somewhat askance now at the magazine in my hands. Perhaps it was to prepossess her against my evident intention to read this, by showing what good attention I had paid in church, that I hastened to say: "What in the world made them name that fourth baby in the row 'Syringa,' Mrs. Fennel? Such a funny name for a baby. After all, though, it's rather a pretty name." Mrs. Fennel gave a little chuckle, and said: "Oh, that's the Elton baby! Her mother was Sophie Ann Fosdick, an' they live to her home. That's the Fos dick place over there," pointing to a set of buildings about a inile away. "It's the first grandchild the Fosdicks have had"—Mrs. Jehoram Fennel was the proud possessor of four. "Sophie Ann was an only child an' she was al ways brung up to have her own way an' they say that when it came to nam in' the baby, although Mis' Fosdick was dead set on eallin' it Charlotte Pamelia, Sophie Ann jest stuck to it that she was agoin' to name it Syringa May, after the bushes that was in blossom about their house, an' call it Syringa May she did." When I decided to return to Pebbly. Center the next summer, and wrote to Mrs. Jehoram Fennel to see if she could board me, I was disappointed to find that she could not. The four grand children were now five, and the mother of three of them was coming home to spend the summer. After the cramped chirography of Mrs. Fennel had ex plained this, she added: "I think you could get boarded at the Fosdick place if you want to. The baby is over a year old now, and they are all quite smart there and Mrs. Fosdick said some thing to that effect one day when she was In here. If you would like to have me, I will run over and see her about it." As a result of her intercession, I spent my second summer in Pebbly Center in the Fosdick home, finding it an exceedingly pleasant place to live. Syringa was now running all' about the place. She was very pretty, with a delicate fairness, though she was ap parently perfectly strong.'"'Her father was a good, honest young farmer and if Sophie Ann, her mother, had always been allowed to have her own way, the result did not seem to have been unfor tunate. since she was as pleasant and capable a young woman as could have been imagined. That winter I went abroad and re-, mained four years. The first summer alter I came back I thought of my old friends at Pebbly Center, and decided lhat I would like to go among them once more. I had heard nothing from them in all this time, however and as I learned that Pebbly Center was now something of a summer town, I thought best to go, at first, directly to the hotel which had been built there, and then, if I wished to do so, change my stop ping-place ^ater. Five years bad brought many changes in the town, which I noticed when, after supper, I walked over to the Fosdick farm. I found Mrs. Fosdick just washing up the supper dishes in the sink in the back kitchen. When she heard my step on the wooden floor, she turned around and peered at me a moment through her glasses. "Wall, I do declare!" she cried. "If it ain't you. Where in the world did you come from, an' how be you? Do come right into the house an' set down," drying her hands on her apron, as she led the way into the sitting room. "I don't know of anybody in the world but what I'd sooner expected to see than you, or that I'd ruther see, too. Josiah'll be so glad to see you ag'in, an' surprised, too an' so'll Sophie Ann an' Edward. You hain't seen them, have you?" "No," I said "don't they live here now?" "Oh, you don't know, do you?" said she, "bein' that you've been gone so long, an' so. far away. Mis'Jehoram Fennel told me that j-ou had gone to foreign parts. Wall, we've had sore trouble since you was here. 'Twas pretty hard for us to bear it, at the time but we try to think that it was all for the best. Providence a-workin' for the g'ood of the many through the trouble of us few." "Was it Syringa?" I asked. "Yes, it was Syringa. It happened the next summer after you was here. That must have been four year ago, for Sophie Ann an' Edward have been at the home three years now. There come the awfullest run of dipthery here that you ever hearn of. There had been a hot spell, an' then a freshet that cov ered all the flats with water, an' then another awful hot spell. A good many folks thought it come from that, an' a good many others said one thing, an' some another. Anyways it was the worst time I ever see in my life, or ever hearn tell of, sense my father used to talk about the big erysipelas epidemic when he was a boy. Lots of folks wouldn't leave their farms except it was to go to the post office, or to the store for something they'd got to have an' even then they'd carry brimstone in the wagon, and a pot of tar to burn when they was goin' pasta house where anyone was sick, so as to smell the smoke. We tried to do what we could to help, in spite of bein' worried to death about Syringa, only right in the middle of it I slipped up on the back steps, on soft soap that Josiah had spilt there, and broke my right arm, so't 1 wa'n't no kind of use for the next three months. "Wall, along in the worst of it Syrin ga come down with the sickness. Some said it was the doctor brought it, com in' to see me, an' some said we hadn't been careful enough ourselves about goin' where there was sick but I've al ways said I wa'n't goin' to look at it in that light. We hadn't any of us done nothin' but what we felt was right, an' what we ought to do. She was right hard sick for a few days but Edward and Sophie Ann tended right to her, day an' night, an' so did the doctor. The way that man worked through all them weeks was something cruel—on the go all the time, daylight an' dark. I never could see when he took time to eat an' sleep—an' I guess he didn't sleep much. An' he with two little chil dren of his own at home, too, with nothin' but the housekeeper to take care of them, because he'd buried his wife the year before. "Wal, Syringa got along first-rate, an' had got so's to walk a little, though m%kty v^qy. Jtr. pindiin' lookin', when one even- in' the doctor's man brought a letter over from him to ask Edward if he'd go to Bolton for a doctor, an' to try an' git a nurse. His little boy, he said, was down with the dipthery, an' he was afraid that the little girt was agoin' to have it too. Wal. Edward hitched right up an' went, an' Dr. Bostwick come back with him but as for a nurse, my land, you couldn't git one for love nor money. In the first place, there wa'n't many folks there that did such work, an' there wa'n't one of 'em that would come to this place then. When he come back, an' told us what luck he'd had, Sophie Ann stood up, with her face kinder white, at first, an' she says: 'Mother, I'm agoin' over, to help the doctor. He's stood by us when we needed help, an' now I'm agoin' to stan' by him.' I sorter tried to dispersuade her but her mind was made up. If I could have gone myself I would but with my arm ill a sling, I was worse'n no one 'round a sick-bed. "So she went but, land! it wa'n't no use. It seemed as if they was struck with death from the very first. The boy died that night, an' the little girl the next night an' Edward an' the doctor's man buried 'em, for there wa'n't no one else would go near the house. "Yes, it did seem hard, when he'd done so much for everybody else. "Wall, Sophie Ann come back when it was all over. She looked pretty white an' tired but her eyes had a look in 'em as if she was glad she had went, after all. She was real careful about changing her clothes an' all such things an' I never can believe that she brought the disease back to little Sy ringa, though some of the neighbors have always said so. I've always thought, myself, that it was because there was a sudden change in the weather, an' she caught a little cold. Anyway, she was took sick ag'in an' this time she went right down, in spite of all we could do, an' died." Mrs. Fosdick stopped to look for her handkerchief. After a tnoment she went on: "It was, an awful blow to us all an' I didn't know as Edward an'- Sophie Ann would ever git over it. But one evenin' that next winter the doctor i/.,, ,«FJ W-. come over to see us, an' told Us of a plan it seems had been, in his head for some time. He'd gone right on with his work, jest the same, an' lived at home, thongh itwas awful lonesome for him, of course, an' he looked as if he'd grown ten years' older. "Wall, he was uncommonly well-to do, as folks go here. His father'd left him a good property, an' his wife some more, an' then he'd always had a good practice an' now he said that he'd made up his mind to take some of his money an' found a home for little children here, if Edward an' Sophie Ann would come an' run it. An' he said he'd call it 'The Syringa Home.' ,It does make a pretty name, don't it? "Wall, at first they thought they couldn't, nohow. Sophie Ann said she couldn't leave me but I jest told her that now that my arm was all right ag'in, I was good for more'n one ten 3rears, yet. So the more they thought of it the better it looked, an* finally they said they'd go. The doctor bought the Hopkins place—you know where that was—an' fixed it up, an' they went there the next summer, an' now it's as nice a place as you ever see. Doctors pays 'em a regular salary, more'n they could have got on a farm. Edward runs the farm—there's quite a lot of land on the Hopkins place—an' helps about the house, too an' Sophie Ann has a good girl to help her. They've got six little ones there now, an' in the course of the three years they've had a lot more that they've found good homes for. They take 'em from anywhere, where they're sure it's needed, all they can take care of an' Sophie Ann's happier than I ever ex pected to see her, an' I'm grandmarm to the whole lot. "You must be goin'? Wall, you'l] be sure an' come over to-morrer an' see Josiah, won't you? He'll be powerful glad to see you. Be real neighborly, now, won't you?" When I went back to the hotel I walked around past the Hopkins place. The house had evidently been repaired, and the grounds made more attractive. A lighted lamp hung in the porch over the front- door, and its rays fell upon a bronze plate on which I read: "The Syringa Home." As 1 stood looking at the house the tall form of Sophie Ann, with her strong, good face, came into sight in a lighted room. She stooped down to raise a sleeping little form from a couch, and, pressing it to her bosom, turned and went out of sight.—N. Y. Independent. TRIED IT ON THE DOG. Ja'ckey Realizes an Artistic Triompt with His Sister's Blench ing Compound. Jackey's mamma always knew liei son was of an investigating turn oi mind, but until she and Jackey's sistei returned from a month's sojourn in the south the other day, she had never real* ized to what extent this bent mighl carry her offspring. Since the return, reference to Jackey's investigating pro pensities has beep refrained from by common consent of the family. Jackey is 11 years old, and lives in Woodlawn. He observes as well as in vestigates. He has not watched his sister shampoo her hair weekly, using in the process a harmless looking, color less liquid from a large bottle, and seen the pale brown locks turn first to a rich chestnut and later to golden, foi naught- In other words, Jackey knows what constitutes a chemical blonde and how that species of blonde is evolved. For many weary weeks Jackey had loEged to try the effects of his sister's bottle of "hairgrower" on her pet water spaniel's sleek brown coat. His mind dwelt fondly upon a vision of a Titian blonde dog—a bleached dog. A friend of the family who had a home in the south proved an instrument to aid Jackey in his purpose. She invited that young gentleman's mother and sister to spend a month with her, which they did. From the day of their departure Jackey did not lose an opportunity toward accomplishing the end of his. experiment. At the end of the first week Brownie's coat had taken on ai tawny luster it had lacked before, anI by the time the contents of the bottte were exhausted Brownie had ceased to merit his name. He was a yellow dog!: The maid, who had. not been "long over," was guileless, and told her friends of the remarkable transformation that was being wrought in the spaniel, believing! it to be a natural one. Jackey took pains to have the dog out of papa's sight when that dignitary was about, and asi that was comparatively seldom since the wife and mother had absented her self, it was no difficult task. When mamma and sister returned they were met by a strange-looking ani mal, which frisked and barked in a frenzy of apparently unwarranted de iight. "Ugh! Get away from me, you ugly little beast," said Jackey's sister, push ing Brownie with her foot. "Jackey, what do you mean by bringing strange dogs into the house "Who's the strange dog?" demanded Jackey with contempt. 11 "That little yellow beast," said the sister, somewhat snappishly. "Ta,kfhim away." "Ho! ho!" shouted the small tioy de risively. "Don't know your o'tfm dog! He's a freak. Turned yellow while you were gone. He's been a-pinin'. I read of a dog what turned white all ,f» er be* cause its missus went away. Yourn would if you stayed long enough. Hoi ho!" When the truth dawned upl§i Jack ey's sister she -wept hot tears. Later in the evening, when papa cam&in from business, Jackey also shed teals. But he is well satisfied. They were shed in a good cause.—Chicago InterrOcean. From Two Sides. "My son," said the philosopher, "you know the adage, don't yofr? Never put all your eggs in one basket. Then if an accident happens only a,pprtionof them will be broken. So with your money. Don't put it all in ,one bank." "Yes," returned the son, who knew a few things, too, "but in scattering your money around among banks you only increase the chances of getting left by cashiers."—Chicago Evening News. He Got Her Easily. Bertha—Were you very nervous when Jack proposed? Winnie—Awfully. I was so flustered that I forgot myself and Said yes, with^ out making him threaten to go away and do some desperate deed.—Chicago Evening New*. -V' -'W u- V.- %V- -w.' f: -P* i' "iX. ISA SOLDIEB. Maj. Gen. Hiles, Commanding the Armies of the United States. Be la tteapeetedby Regular ai \l|ell Volunteer' Troop»—Hl» Mar velous Success an In. dlunPiffbter. [Special Washington Letter.] Maj. Uen. Nelson A. Miles, command ing the armies of the United States, is very popular with all soldiers who have served with him. The regular as well as the volunteer soldiers admire and respect him. Some things concern ing his military career were obtained to-day in casual conversation. VI served under Gen. Miles at one time," said an army officer on duty in the war department, "and I have great respect and admiration for him. I think that you may say that all the offi cers and men who have ever been on duty with Gen. Miles respect and ad mire him for his manly qualities, superb courage, military genius and perfect integrity. "One thing you may emphasize, and that is the fact that all young West Pointers who have served with Miles love him and swear by him. He has had the loyal and earnest support as well as the affection of the young offi cers who. have been so fortunate as to see actual campaigning with Miles as their commander. His strongest friends in the army to-day are West Pointers. The old prejudice against volunteer officers is fast dying out. It is dead, so far as Gen. Miles is concerned. I am a West Pointer my self, and I tell you not even Napoleon had the confidence and admiration of his soldiers more than Gen. Miles has had from his officers and men, and I am one of them who would cheerfully obey any order coming from him, no matter what peril might be in the im mediate future for me. "Do you know that Gen. Miles never lost a battle in his life, either in the civil war, or during his Indian cam paigns? When we were on the fron tier, with Indians outnumbering us ten to one, it was necessary to send out small detachments to attract large hos tile bands. On such occasions officers MAJ. GEN. NELSON A. MILES, U. S. A. and men asked but one question, and that was: 'Will Gen. Miles lead us?' And when they were informed that Miles would be with us, there was no hesitation, no doubt, no questioning, but every man felt assured that vic tory would result, and we were never disappointed. Our commander chal lenged admiration for his activity and gallant leadership. He always led us in every fight. He never sought to shield himself. He is absolutely jvithout fear of anything mortal. In the Nez Perces campaign officers begged him not to expose himself, because there was a general dread that all might be massa cred if he should fall. "Gen Miles always dressed in a pic turesque style when on the frontier. He wore a broad sombrero, blue shirt, red tie, buckskin coat and trousers, fringed, with a belt around his waist in which were pistols and a large knife. He was as well equipped for personal struggle and danger as Buffalo Bill or any other ranger. He is one of the bravest pf the brave, and I have seen him under fire with his officers and men always cool, always aggressive, and ready for every emergency. "Just after the Custer massacre "Gen. Miles took 225 men and went after Sit ting Bull and Crazy Horse, who, with 3,000 bucks, had settled down for the winter. That was a daring undertak ing, but. Gen. Miles captured those In dians who at that time regarded them selves invincible. "As an illustration of his carefulness and keenness in dealing with the Indi ans, you might mention the peace talk which he had with Sitting Bull at Cedar creek. The wily and dangerous Sioux leader sent a flag of truce for the pur pose of arranging terms of capitula tion. Gen. Miles and Sitting Bull were to meet midway between the lines of Sioux and the Fifth infantry, and hare a nice quiet little peace talk. Accord1 ing to the plans they met and held a conference. Within a few moments a big Sioux buck sauntered out toward the' general and chief, and came very close to them. At the same time, by" a previous order issued by Gen. Miles, one of the infantrymen sauntered out, and also approached the parleying com manders. Then another Indian quietly sauntered forth, and at the same time one of the infantrymen imitated him. This continued until there were six Sioux bucks and six infantrymen sur rounding Gen. Miles and Sitting Bull. Gen. Miles then said: 'You are a bad Indian. All of your bucks here are armed. They have weapons under their blankets. You intended to kill me here in cold blood. If any one of your men pulls a trigger one of my men will kill you right in your tracks.' The old chief had no dAire to go suddenly to the happy hunting grounds, and warned his men to return to their places. One by one they retired, and one by one the infantrymen returned to their ranks. "Gen. Miles then said: Wow I will give you five minutes to surrender. If you do not do so I will open fire on your band and annihilate you.' Sitting Bull turned away, saying *1 have enough men here, as you see, to wipe out your entire army/ Gen. Miles re peated the remark, that in five minutes he would open fire unless the band sui rendered. Sitting Bull went back to his camp, delayed beyond the allotted time, and Gen. Miles promptly ordered his troops forward. The soldiers of the Fifth infantry understood their work, and followed their commander. The battle was not a prolonged one, for Sitting Bull was defeated and sur* rendered. "Gen. Miles is a hard rider. He is an athlete. He is tall, erect, soldierly in appearance, a splendid horseman and a perfect marksman either with a rifle or a revolver. He rides a bicycle and rides it well. He is a swimmer, boxer and all around emergency man, no mat ter where he may be placed. Buffalo Bill says there never was such a per fectly equipped man for Indian fighting in the entire army, and Cody has great respect for all of the officers and men of the army, for he has served with a number of commanders on eventful campaigns. He would say nothing de rogatory of any officer, but he has un bounded admiration for Gen. Miles. "The Nez Perces chief, Joseph, who was one of the greatest of Indian lead ers, had been pursued by several vig orous fighters, with good commands, and had eluded all of them. When Gen. Miles, however, followed him and sur rounded him, and when the old chief realized that he had been out-generaled in his own style of warfare, and in his own country, he expressed amazement and said: 'Who is this new chief that has outwitted me? 1 know it must be a new chief, for the others are children.' "By the way, I do not believe that any general could learn from books, or under any instruction procure, the apti tude for'the disposition of troops which seems intuitive with Gen. Miles. In the same Nez Perces campaign, 1 recol lect his promptness of action when he came up with the Nez Perces and found them entrenched. The country was ne.w to Gen. Miles. He had never been there before. But, glancing over the country, using his field glass, and ask ing a few questions of the guides, he began immediately the disposition of his troops, and moved them with such precision and celerity that Chief Jo seph was outwitted and outgeneraled with such dazzling quickness that he uttered the remark above quoted. Coming from a man of the undoubted ability of Joseph, I have always re garded that remark as one of the great est compliments that has ever been paid to Gen. Miles as an Indian fighter. "Grover Cleveland was president when Gen. Schofield retired. Do you know that there are no two men in this republic who ought to have greater ad miration for each other than ex-Pres iilent Cleveland and Gen. Miles. Theix lives have been parallel in civil and military life. ""While Grover Cleveland was a poor boy, sweeping the office for Lawyer Bowers, in Buffalo, Nelson A. Miles was a poor boy clerking in a store in Boston. Grover Cleveland possessed exceptional ability and sturdy qualities, and Law yer Bowers took him into his home and into his office and encouraged his early struggles. Using military terms, I may say that Grover Cleveland passed through all grades of promotion in civil life, just as Gen. Miles has passed through all the grades of promotion ir military life. Just as the poor boy in Buffalo was entering upon the practice of the law, the poor boy in Boston was entering upon the military profession. Strangers to each other, they were struggling along the pathway of life and their lives were running in paral lels, each of them achieving a distino tion and success by sheer native ability and merit. Each of them possessed the genius of labor, and they toiled and plodded along, each honestly doing hu best in his own sphere, and then theii lives converged and they came togethez in the national capital. The poor boy of Buffalo was chief executive, and the poor boy of Boston became commandei oi the army." SMITH D. FRY. Little Willie Knew. Sunday School-Teacher—Come now, children, tell me, what house is always open to everybody—to the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the sick and the well? Do you know what house I mean? Little Willie—Yeth, ma'am I know. Teacher—Well, Willie, what house is it? Willie—The police, station. Balti more Life. Still in the Lead. "Is it true, auntie^ that you have re fused Blakem every year for the last 20 years?" "Yes, my dear." "Do you mind telling me why "Not at all. The first time I refused him I told him that he was not good enough for me, and I'm not the woman to admit that^ he has grown better any faster than I have."—DetroitFree Press. New York contains more Hebrews than there are in Jerusalem. tbe Death Rate. While it is quijte true that the proportion of deaths from malaria as an immediate cause is proportionally small as cited in an nual mortuary statistics, yet physicians ire thoroughly convinced that it causes maladies of a fatal character, and begets dangerous nervous prostration. This malady is eradi cated and prevented by Hostetter's Stom ach Bitters, which also cures biliousness, constipation, rheumatism and dyspepsia. He Caught On. Mabel—George, I do wish you would enlist. George—Why. dear, I thought you con fessed that you loved me? "I did say so, but if you were to go into the ®rmy perhaps you might learn what arms are After that she had no cause to complain. —Chicago Evening Newj. Repartee. If we were asked to define repartee most of us would say that it was the brilliant thing'we thought of saying when the occa «on for saying it had slipped away from us. —Chicago Times-Herald. Hla Trnde-Marlf. "Why, Julia, how the waist of your frock smells of tar." "Yes, mamma poor Mr. Ratlines, of the naval reserves, has been bid ding me good-by again."—Clevel&ud Plain Dealer. He Courted Failure. Isaacs—Do you tink marriage vos a vail ure? Abrams—So hellup me if I dit, I vould ged married domorrows.—Up-to-Date. MAYOR OF COLUMBUS. The Executive of the Capital City of Ohio Speaks. HON. SAMUEL L. BLACK. City of Columbus. Executive Department, To Whom It May Concern: I can most cheerfully recommend Pe-ru-na as of the very greatest possible benefit in cases of catarrh and other diseases of the mucous membrane. This remedy has es tablished itself in the minds of the people as of the greatest possible worth and genuine ness. I have known Dr. Hartman for a num of years and am pleased to say that he is one of the leading citizens of this city, a man of the very highest standing arvd character in the community. Respectfully, SAMUEL L. BLACK. The old saying that "a prophet is not with out honor save in his own country," does not hold true of Dr. Hartman's great catarrh remedy—Pe-ru-na. Pe-ru-na is in great repute, not only in the city of Columbus, where it is made, but in the county and the state. The city officials, county officials, state officials of Ohio have given Pe-ru-na the highest endorsements that words could con vey. It is the greatest known catarrh rem edy. It cures catarrh wherever located. Send for a free copy of the National Witness, which is filled with home testimony concern ing Pe-ru-na as a catarrh remedy. Address The Pe-ru-na Drug Manufacturing Company, Columbus, Ohio. Answers to Correspondents. Student—Certainly, bookkeeping can be learned at home. All you have to do is not lend them. Reader—No, it is not an uncommon thing for the good to go to the bad otherwise there would be no demand for missionaries. Inquirer—Yea, there are bookcases made from lawsuits relating to copyrights, but we wouldn't recommendvthem for your library. Sentiment—We don't know why the lily is recognized as the emblem of purity, unless it is because man has been unable to adul terate it. Athlete—Yes, a porous plaster will some times remove the effects of a strain or wrench, but you'd better keep the wrench to aid in removing the porous plaster.— Chicago Evening News. Ironical Ifs. If manners make the man that explains some men's undone condition." If a man is ruled by his feelings he is apt to travel in a zigzag course. If riches didn have wings there would be fewer flyers in the stock market. If a man could only see himself as others see him he wouldn't say a word about it. If a man thinks life isn't worth living he can very easily find a way to give it up. If the saloons were open on election day it might be possible to poll a full vote. If Eve hadn't been forbidden to eat that apple the chances are it wouldn't have hap pened.—Chicago Evening News. His Statna. Mrs. Hoon—What an imposing appear ance your friend Puffington nas, to be sure! Old Hoon—Oh, yes! he's a born colonel, if eveij a man was!—Puck. Synonymous. Smith—Yes, Jones I'm going fishing. Won't you go along? Jones—No thanks, old fellow. I ain't drinkin' now.—Judge. Every dog has his day but only thor oughbreds get entered at the bench show.— Chicago Record. TRIALS OF SALESWOMEN. Mrs. Pinkham Says Standing Still is One of Woman's Most Trying Tasks. Have you ever thought why it is that so many women or girls rather walk fpr an hour than stand still for ten minutes? It is because most women suffer from some derangement of their delicate organism, the discomfort from which is less trying when they are in motion than when standing. So serious are these troubles and so dangerous to health that the laws in some states com pel employers to provide resting places for their female employees. But no amount of law can regulate the hard tasks of these women. Cus tomers areex acting, and expect the saleslady to be always cheerful and. pleasant. How can a girl be cheerful when her back is sailed by lassitude and bearing ter how sweet tempered she is way under the pain after a while. want cross and snappy saleswo important capital, and no one can be If you are ill or suffering, write Lynn, Mass., and tell her all about yourself. Your story will not be new to her she has heard it many thousand-times and will know just.what you need. Without doubt, Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound will help you, it done such wonderful things for suffering women. Do not hesitate to write her all the little things that make you feel miserable. Your letter will not be by any man, .and Mrs. Pinkham's advice will cost you nothing. Bead this letter from Mrs. MABGABBT AOTEBSON, 463 Lisbon St., Lewis* ton, Me. D®AB MBS. PINKHAM:—For years I had suffered with painful menstruation every month. At the beginning of menstruation it was impossible for me to stand up for more than five minutes, I felt so miserable. One day a little book of Mrs. Pinkham's was thrown into my house, and I sat right down and read it. I then got some of Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound and Liver Pills. "I can heartily say that to-day I feel like a new woman my monthly suffering is a thing of the past. I shall always praise the Vegetable Compound for what it has done for me." Ask Mrs. Pinkham's Adylcc -A Woman Best Understands a.Woman's fats Weif'and strong Nervous 8pells and That T|r«y| Feeling Cured by Mood's* "My health was very poor. I had voua spells and did not sleep well at night, When I arose in the morning I was tired and exhausted and did not feel any more rested than when I retired at night. I knew I needed a medicine to build! me up, and I concluded to take Hood's Saraapa rilla. After the first bottle had been taken I felt so much better that I procured five more. I am now taking the last one, and I have not felt as well and strong for years." H. P. JOKES, 223 E. Mulbury St., Kokomo, Indiana. Remember Hood's Sarsaparilla Is America's Greatest Medicine. Sold by all druggists. SI six for S5. Get only Hood's. Hood's Pills THE REAL CULPRIT. He Kept Quiet and Let the Poor Let* ter Carrier Take All the Blame. "Hi there!" called a somewhat excited woman to the postman who was passing on his morning round. "Where's that letter I sent three weeks ago to my sister in Buf falo? She never got it and has written to know whether I'm mad at her or some of us are sick." "I know nothing about it, madam." "Of course you don't. I suppose the post master-general would say the same thing. My own private opinion is that this govern ment is running at mighty loose ends. I put a stamp on that letter to pay for having it sent. It was directed as plain as print. It is lost or stolen and my own sister is blam ing me for neglecting her._ It's all politics, that's what it is, putting in a lot of raw hands every four years, and I don't propose to stand it. I'm going to find out whether you mail men can defraud your customers and make family trouble just because you don't know enough to look after your busi ness." "But I never saw your letter, my good woman." "I don't care anything about that. Neither did my sister ever see it. I'll not sleep till write the president and give him a piece of my mind. The idea of paying an army of men to lose letters. It's ridiculous. It won't be long before some of you are look ing for other jobs, or I miss my guess." During this conversation the woman's hus band dove frantically into his pockets, ran hatless through the back gate, put that let ter into a mail box and made a fine show of temper while helping his wife abuse the gov* ernment.—Detroit Free Press. PUT TO ROUT. How a Well-Known Maine Ulan Suc ceeded in Flooring: an English man with a Hard Name. Probably the most widely known and the most popular man in Maine is Payson Tuck er. A good story told by him is by no means a rarity, but it is not often that ne tells one involving his own personality. The follow ing is an exception. "I was returning from Europe a few weeks ago," said Mr. Tucker, "and saw more or less of an Englishman who was exceedingly loud and coarse in his denunciations of American institutions. "1 stood it as long as I could, and then I decided to politely remonstrate with that Englishman and show him wherein he erred in his opinions of Americans. 'Have you ever been in the United States?' I asked him one evening when he was on one of his strains. "He looked me over and then said: 'No, my good man, I have never been in America.' "That angered me, and I said: 'What in sheol do you know about what you are talking of?' "Said he to me: 'Aw, I see what you are— another of those impudent Americans.' 'I see what you are, too,' I said to him. 'You're a dizzle-dazzle whick-a-whack that's what you are.' That floored the son of Albion, and thereafter he gave Mr. Tucker a wide berth. —N. Y. Herald. COULD NOT BE DONE. It Was Utterly Impossible for That Boy to Respect His Father's Gray Hairs. "Boys," began the Sunday school super intendent, impressively, "I hope none of you will ever get into the reprehensible habit of alluding to your father as 'the old man.' When you grow up, no matter how big or old you may be, you should always look up to and respect the silver hairs of your father, who has grown bent and gray, working for you in your helpless infancy. Now, all of you who think you can do this please raise your right hands." Up went every hand except one. Sternly eyeing the delinquent, the super intendent solemnly, observed: "Why, young man, I am horrified—abso lutely horrified—as well as astonished at your behavior. Don't you wish to raise your hand and put yourself on record as being willing to respect the gray hairs of your fa ther when you grow up to be a man?" "No. No use tryin can't do it nohow," unblushingly responded the lad. "Why not, sonny?" 'Cause he ain liable to have no gray hair. Dad's bald," chirped the youthful philosopher, triumphantly, and amid a gen eral titter the discomfited superintendent gave it up and passed on to something else. —Tit-Bits. Nimble Enough. The abuse of health is veiled suicide.— Ram's Horn. "7 with Ho0""7Sarsaparilla.t0PUlS~Hood's with aching^whenshe is as- p"" down pains? No mat* naturally, her nerves give Employers, however, don't men. Cheerfulness is very amiable when racked with pain, without delay to Mrs. Pinkham, at /i. cr( 4 -VI if c,