The Manitowoc pilot. [volume], March 27, 1902, Image 6

About The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932

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THE MAN WHO BELIEVES.
Thl* life Is a race— so the sages declare, and
I Judge that the sages- .ire right—
And we are the J'jckeys to handle, with
Care, the horses we speed In their
flight:
And Fate Is the starU r who bids us to go,
and we dare not that Hat defy;
f our horses be fast or our horses be slow,
Jor a place In the race we must try.
Somewhere up above sits the Judge, and
He knows- the rpe id ol each horse that
Wt ridi,
And If we are doing our best as it goes, or
lagging, and little bti-idi
And this 1 have notice-: while watching
the race and hearing its turmoil and
din:
Tlae mar. that is llk< ly to w in th.- fir-: place
is the man who believe* h- will win
"All ready!" Th starter U--ailing u* now,
and we look to the bridle and g:rth
Ere we leap to the Kiddle and steadfastly
vow we will win of th. prlz- s-of earth
Then "Go!” Is the word, and away w. all
speed, each hoping a trophy to gait.;
And some, who at first show the p w. r to ,
lead, fall back, lacking will to attain; i
And other* then 1 wh-> Join in the fray
undismayed by the ones In ih*)r van, I
Content In the end If the Judge shall hut -
ay: "H< did what he could, like a |
man."
!
passed, while oil.- rs do scarcely be-
Kin;
But the man that I wlt.n- r. t un ,at lh<
last, 1 the man w ho bciltves he will
win.
No hope of attalnme nt hav< they who lack
trust, for doubt holds o wavering
rein;
In the spirit's low- vo'.r-. a* It whispers “I
must;” Is the promise of all we at
tain
Are you won. In th- struggle? I*r■ un,
and pre, ; on! Thus only a prlz. shall
be iron;
And the Judg. who w. II kt • w that your
spirit grew w m, shall whidper: "Well
done, ye*, w-11 done-.”
Oh, many a man, on a faltering steed, has
ridden It straight to success.
And feet that gri-w weary, -end stumble
and bleed, may summits <>f happiness
press;
For my soul did proclaim I ran In lb
race, with 11h turmoil and clamor and
din;
The man that Is leriali. to win the Hi t
place is the- man who believes he will
win.
-Alfred J \V aterhouse. In Success,
5“ BOBBIE* C
■ ■' ——■■■ --
By JOHN FLEMING WILSON.
h
THE night was tophi <m the- line-.
From the curling gossamer wave
that rolled into phosphorc-cent lu tei
under the forefoot >f the- Ctirarao to
the horizon around which flushed the
silent heat-light ning. there wn noth
ing to catch the- die vvsy eve >r ears
of the watch who slumbered eoi the
fo’k'a'l head anil dozed ove-r I he- rail
Four bells had seen tlje last passen
ger tumbled within he hcale-el leiink,
the Inst deck lip-lit extinguished; fnun
the cabin of the chief engineer alone
there cnjnc wakeful sound:. The lat
tice door was hookeel hack that the
faintest, breathing of air might stir
unhindered within the : t itling interior.
The lamp swinging ugabist the. bulk
head burned low and by il dim light
the gray-haired chief watched the
tossings eif a ehnlihy-eheeked, elnrk
halred boy sick with fever. The <>]<!
man sut away from the- opening and
shaded Ids eyes with his hand; beside
him, Closer to the. hunk, knelt, the Imy’s
mother.
"When die) the doctor say the crisis ]
would be past she quest ioned for the'
twentieth lime.
"Before dawn," the chief answered
patiently.
“Are we doing everything we- enuV
Are yetu sure?"
"We must le- 1 the. fe’ver run lies
course. Mr llrrol It’ past our man
agement," he- n plied.
“Hush! lle-’s saying something,"
•he whispered. "Can you heuir?"
“You take this chair, and I'll take
that, and we'll play horse-," the- child
was muttering. "Come, Bobbie, here's
your chair."
"He's dreaming of his little- gunies,"
explained the- we,muu.
“Don't go sei fast I emit' ke-e.p Up,
Bobbie; dee yon hear'.' lioldde-V" The
Inst came in a full I reldc, and t he edit
man bent ove-r in his scat.
"All right, Billie, I’ll wait for yeni,"
answered another child's voice.
"But, Hobble, we can't |iliiv any
more, feir the chair's turned into a
hip fish and it's taken all the- bait
every hit of it Ibddde'"
"It’ll eorne back, Billie, and then
we'll cate I, it." an we.red the- new
voice. The sick child slumbered • |uie*t
ly again, nml Hie- e hie-f sw albiw gel pain
fully. "lids business is a little- loinl
on the throat,” he said, huskily
"He's vet v foiiel of Bobhie-," sale) the
woman. "What ma<le- you ever think
of it?"
"I ha el a little* soil of 111 V eiw ii aml we
called ills name Bobbie.," be- replied.
"]!*• w e*ni i nt with a fever. toe, but
not thh sort
"Vou i/ihs him vry much," she said.
"I've come to play in; with him a
good deal,” he went on "Bobbie and
I have made many a vo\aye logcl her.
and it doe n't do anybody any Inirm.
for nobody knows, and the children,
they understand."
"How old was he when he died?"
“Seven years, ma'am."
"Was it long ago?"
"it was UO years ago, ma'am I was
young when he died. In •<1 to amuse
him In this way, and the little beggar
made me talk for a whole lot of hoys,
A oil see, it pleased him, and I knew
just what lie was hearing."
“Billie alway talked about 'Bobbie'
time he came on board, and 1 won
dered who it coll Id be for ad, vort wo
till I heard you one day myself."
"Yes," said tlie ehlef, "it’s a great
comfort to forget my gray hairs once
I .... ■ i
I think sometimes that if my child had
Jiied I'd never have got old."
••That’ the way with men." said Mrs
Errol. "They are old till they live with
a son. 1 was young till Billie eame
and then 1 grew old us women du."
“I know, 1 know. Hillit* here i~ a
pretty lively chap—little fellow. Hob
ble wan a terror, hi* mother said. I
never had any trouble.”
“Did his mother die before he/iid?"
“Jfo, i>ut not long after. Next toy*
1 age it was.”
“And you have lived alone since?”
she asked, gently bending over her
own boy.
“Yes, all alone, except iiobbie; and I
find iiobbie says things now that he
did not say vvlien he was then. He
says things I think he shouldn't.”
“Are you forgetting his boyhood?”
“No, but he’s growing up, lie’s get
ting like me. You know it’s so long
since he left that- -well, he never lived
long enough to say and do so very
much that is, I was away so much.
A good many things he said then I
didn’t understand, but now he doesn't
say those things any more. I've been
over it all so often that it’s wearing
thin, and the old man shows through.
He’s leaving me again, and for good.”
“It would have been the same if
he’d lived,” she answered,
“Would it ?”
"Yes. Do you know, Billie here has
talked about games I never knew he
played? I used to think 1 knew all
his thoughts. I don’t and this proves
it.”
"They live their own life, spite of
what we can do. Yes, Billie," and the
old play went on, while the mother
turned her white face to the open.
"Is he worse?" she whispered when
the- baby muttering ceased.
"I can't tell,” was the hoarse answer.
“Only tied knows, ma’am.”
"Did you Know when vour Hobble
died?"
"Tlis mother knew. 1 thought I did.
Their little lives dwindle very swiftly.”
"Is it time to call the doctor?” she
asked, wearily.
“No, it’s not time. Von see there Is
no change to speak of.”
The hell I ruck the half hours to the
end of the weary watcTT, and still the
weary play went on. though now the
chief's hand shook n the arm of his
chair. Suddenly Mrs. Errol rose and
bent o'er the child. “Call the doctor,"
she commanded. Without an instant’s
pause the old man strode out and re
turned behind the blinking surgeon.
A glance into the Imnk roused the
l it ter, and he worked st eadily, panting
i.i the bent. At Inst the ehihl stirred,
and uguin came the call; “Bobhie!"
From outside the Cabin came the
answer, curiously childlike, though
tremulous. The doctor put his head
out iif the door and said: “Keep him
cm -y for five minutes; keep him mused
and I’ve hopes. Madam, you’d better
go out into the air. 11l call if I want
you."
"Mayn’t 1 stay ?" she pleaded.
"Hurry - >ut i’ll call,” said tin' doc
tor, quiet ly.
Mr Errol leaned against the rail
nml watched the lustrous waters curl
against the side of the dipping steam
er. Against the deck house sal tin
chief, staring vacantly at the awning
above him anil holding one hand in (Tic
other. The eddying voice of the child
| J
,
• is hi; wuuhb?" sub whisbkubd.
wa the sound in the car of both.
"It’s awfu’hot. Bobbie; let’s go out iu
l lie grass and piny."
"Wlini’ll vve play at ?"
“I.ci’s play, let’s play " the child
ceased.
“All right. Billie, come on quick, let*s
go and play muuibtely-peg. Here’s a
new knife,"
"Let’- see il," commenced the sick
one again. "Is it tnore’ii one blade?"
"It’s two, Billie, and both sharp.
('nine!"
Tln-re was no answer, and "Bobhie"
began again hurriedly ~ “t ome. Billie,
don’t go to deep. ( ome and play."
"I enn'l play, because it's getting
dark and the grass is all wet, so’s I
j mni come in. Ihdibie."
I'm coinin', too But I ain’t afraid
•< lav out. Viiywny, I'm bigger'n
I you,"
"But I must come in." said Billie,
witli a dry sob. “I must hecuust 11
:I I Bobbie. O (I BohbTe!”
"< omiiig. . oming, Billie!" His voice
! broke hamlilv. "I 1 can't keep it up.
I can’t do It 1 I i.-'l the chief, us Mrs.
| Errol -wept by hint
I tic doctor topped out nil deck Mini
" !(•*■( I h its face. , T 1 c little f(* 11 11 w will
(|(| if tint hillg happens. Ii relit pill \ (,f
yoni tliiil. Who in Jtohhie. chief ?’’
“lidliliie',’ Why, don’t you know'/
Itolihie' < (lend
I iddlesl i(l the hoy's nil right, if
\ oil 111**111) Millie."
"I forgot, I flic m. We tiiust Hike
good ( 'iire of little Millie.”
"Here h hornethlnu to drink, sir,”
Kiiid the doctor, cheerfully, ‘‘('dine
and bleep in my room. Now, you
needn’t fuss, I’ll look after the hoy."
Ihe chief went with howed head and
the surgeon nibbed hie chin as if in
doubt "(trowing old, I suppose, and
" 1 •" be muttered. Overland
Monthly.
* (Jentie Hint.
Herein Tile tire mcliih to he going
out. Mick ( mi ing.
Mi' ■' •ut ting ( suppressing a yuwn)-
*1 1 . It seem* to he more considerate
’lnn (line people. Chicago Jiuily
Ncwb,
A CAT ANL' A DOGGEREL.
“O. see !" he w role, "The cat-kme long
Are dangling from the tree s;
Th, cat-nip sprout*. and in the- swamp,
I The cul-uUls greet the breeze.
"The dog-wood bio ms. the dog-bane
I starts;
The dog-rose Is well met;
A: .. In the wm -is. one now may see
| The dog-toothed violet.
, "The- cut-blrel call*, the cevt-tle range
I Upon the Cut-skills high;
Th. cut-amount doth watch for prey
In yon cai-alpa nigh.
"Tr ■ In hi vT.—
Come, let us all be merry!
’T:s time locust elog-matlc themes*
And seek the rljse dog-berry.
"Th< < ,it-> rplilar fe eds upon
Cat-awba vine* beside
The roaring e at- rad that falls
Into the rive r wide."
’T - after - "C-e;.,yt. that this bard
Ills dog-cart and manuscript
Put by toreve-r. Dog-gel iy.
He cr- pt Into his crypt.
This cat-eacombcatastrophe
Was i an ■ i! h\ grim cal-arrh.
Am. - it-.depsy stopped the- thoughts
Not catalogued thus far.
And so, the strange t form of verse
That eve r I've heard tell
Is this the poet mad composed—
The . .it—and dog-g>-rel!
Blan.-l.e Elizabeth Wade, in Frank Les
lie's Popular Monthly.
The
Only Way
K—rrr,--i.---=fl
SHE was not un ordinary girl, of
that there could be no mistake.
She was md exactly pretty, although
her face was winning and sweet, but
she had a war with her that was pure
ly original. Even he-r walk and the
t urn of her head seemed different frum
1 lint eef e,ther girls.
"I don't understand her,” said her
masculine friends. "I don't like her,”
declared the members of her own sex,
while the matrons of her clique put
their heads together and said that it
was a pity the girl had such odd little
ways, she w as spoiling all her chances,
and that n woman with her ideas was
quite a failure as far as matrimony
was concerned.
As for Hug’ll Dornny, he didn’t know
exactly what to make of her. Shefas
cinatcd him. When she was in the
room lie was always by her side. He
walked with her. he talked to tier, and
never gin need at another girl when
she was near, yet he never seemed able
to form a decided opinion of her.
One day he told herns much himself.
He had called on her and found her
alone. He confessed as they sat. over
the tea table together that she was
altogether a puzzle to him.
“1 can't make up my mind whether
I like you or not. Miss Withers,” he
said. “Yon are such a changeable
girl."
"I am not sure whet+u r that is alto
gether complimentary.” returned the
girl, in a low voice. “1 am a good deal
more positive in my regard for you.”
“Indeed!”
"Yes.” She looked away for a minute
and then brought her eyesVpiickh to
his face, a pink spot burning on each
cheek. "Yes, 1 love you.”
The young man gasped and nearly
dropped the teacup he held, ill his
amazement. Was there ever such a
startling confession? Of the two he
was ;'ir the more embarrassed.
“Yon are surprised,” went on the
girl, hurriedly. "So was f. Love is al
ways a surprise. To me It seems a
kind of madness while it lasts, some
thing as iineonlreliable as it is mystc
rio',. I have never felt like this for
n in one before; I enrmot understand it
myself. You are a very ordinary man,
not very wealthy, not very clever, not
at all good looking, and yet I love you.
It's all very wonderful, isn’t it?”
Tlie man stared at her dumbly, un
able to say a word,
Tlie girl laughed musically.
"It’s rather an unusual confession,
isn’t it?" she said. “Bather unasked,
too; but you needn't afcirm yourself
1 don't want to marry you."
"You don't want to marry me?”
echoed the mail in some confusion.
"No." The girl looked away, and her
eyes wnnderd to the window with a
thought fill, intent expression. "1 al
ways liken lov c," she said, "to asf ream
running between two very different
pic cs of land connected tty a bridge.
On (he one side everything is bright
and green and sunny, on the other the
land is gray and barren. Love, the river,
runs on either side alike, but once the
bridge is crossed the current seems to
change. From the other hunk the sun
-bines in ross and makes it all seem so
all rail iv c, We long to go and c\ pi ore.
and when we do we find ourselves im
prisoned. The bridge we crossed lias
gone; ii was only a bridge of illusion,
and there is no getting hack to the
flowers and sunshine, however much
wi -i rive. It's all very disappointing,
isn't it?"
Tlic young in,m recovered himself
anil (flunet’ll admiringly across at the
serious little speaker. She was look
in ■ i) nit• pretty; the flash hail deep
ened on her eheek and her eyes were
soft and moist with feeling. He for
got her strange eonfession. and for
the time was carried away Ity the pow
er of her fascination. A man, he
tho tight, with such a companion wmil I
lake the snn across with him to that
other side.
"Von let your imagination nm away
with yon, .loan," he said, softly, slip
ping unconsciously into her ( hristian
name. "Life is simple enough if you
only look it squarely in the face."
There was a pause; the (rirl poured
herself out anot her enp of tea and sal
stirring it thoughtfully: the man put
his down nutasted on the tnlile. ns
if ten drinking was an occupation too
luiroinnntie for the occasion w.th a
sudden impulse he got up, and, cross
■ * n n to her side, leaned kindly over
her.
"And ho you don’t want to marry
me, Joan?” he said, almost reproach
fully.
I he girl started, colored deeply, and
drew ha' k from him.
“No! \o!” s he said. “Even if you
loved rne ever so much, ! would not
marry you. It would be terrible- ter
rible to think that you wot Id grow
gradually indifferent to me, and to
know that having taken the step there
was no drawing back; and yet "she
paused painfully—“ I ant miserable, I
love you so, I want you near me al
ways—l want you always.”
She broke down with sometliinglike
a sob and buried her face in her hands.
The man looked at her helplessly for
a moment, and then, kneeling at her
side, drew her hands gently down.
“Joan,” he said, “yon dear, romantic
little soul, look at me."
Joan obeyed with swimming eyes.
“Now put these sentimental ideas on
one sole. You and I..Joan, arc going to
be a practical couple. We are not go
ing to expect such a great deal of the
other side of the river you spoke of.
and then we shall not he disappointed.
Joan, you must marry me.”
The girl drew herself away from his
arms and shook her head vehemently.
“Don’t ask me, pray pray don’t ask
me!” she cried. “You don’t love me,
you know you don’t; and even if you
cored for me as earnestly as I earef'-r
you, it would only be worse stid. I
should only have the more to lose.
No.” she turned and faced him eager
ly, “you must cure me disillusion me.
Let me see that it is only an infatua
tion—that you are only an ordinary
man, after all.”
“I could easily do that." said the
young man, soberly; “but T doubt
whether you would listen. Love, little
girl, always idealizes. You look at me
through rosy-colored spectacles and
magnify my virtues and overlook my
faults. Whatever Ido now,and what
ever I have done in the past, would
Ije excused in your eyes.”
“No! no!” said the girl. “Indeed, I
will listen. Dear Hugh, I want to be
disillusioned.”
lint the young man only shook his
head.
"Even if you listened yon would not
believe,” he said, gently. "Now. listen,
Ti an. Tam going to suggest a rein
■<!y, a seldom-failing remedy, and that
istime. I am going a wax from you for
six months. At the end of that time,
dear, you will laugh at yourself, at
your folly, or my name is not Hugh
Dornay. Shall we do as 1 say?”
“For six long months!” echoed tlie
girl, with a paling face. "It's a terrible
remedy; but. yes, I will try it.”
“Joan!”
“Hugh! ”
They had met again, not in Iter little
drawing-room as before, but in the
country lanes, where the light sum
mer breeze frolicked with the hay and
"AND Si) YOU DON'T WANT TO
MARKY ME, JOAN?”
carried it away, mingling it with the
scent of tl>e honeysuckle. The six
months had barely gone, and there
they were again, face to face.
The girl hung her head, and the color
rushed into her face as t he young man
sprang forward and caught her bund
in his with every expression of de
light.
“Well, Joan,” he said, in a .voice w hich
trembled with a strange emotion, “and
are yon disillusioned?”
lie waited anxiously for the reply
which in ter came, and, bending down,
read the answer in her eyes.
"No. dear Joan? Well, lam glad,
for I lone Just thought of another
remedy which we must fry together.
Joan. I have caught your complaint—
I want to be disillusioned, too.”
Tin- girl looked tip with the pent-up
love of i* months in her eves.
“How?" she whispered, softly.
“I thought we would cross Hint
bridge of illusion together, hand in
hand." he aid. “Whatever disappoint
ments there may be in store for us we
will share Joan, my dear little Joan,
I love you. Will you? 11 is the only
way."
The girl raised her face trustfully,
yet a little wistfully, to his.
"Ye- " he eehoed. quickly; “it is the
only way." \. V. Weekly.
Vnelent unit Modern.
An old man and a young one. while
traveling from London to Hrighton in
a train, got into conversation. The
old man asked:
"Whieh would you sooner travel in
the up to-date railway train or the
old-fashioned stage coach?"
"Why. the up-to-date railway train,
of eour-f. the young man answered.
“Ah, 1 would sooner t ravel in the old
fashioned stage coach."
“Why?"
"Well, if you are in the old-fashioned
stage eoneh and the wheel comes off,
and you are thrown into a ditch, it’s
‘Hullo, old party, there you are!' Hut
.f you are in the up-to-date railway
train, and the holler hursts, its not
•II i11... old party, there you are!’ hut
'Hullo, old party, where the dickens
are you?’ "—London Answers.
WOMEN BUY A HEARSE.
till Crum (S. M.) Cluh Dec-file That
Town Sliuuld Have a I’rupcr
Funeral Vehicle,
Think of a woman’s club buying a
hearse with its tirst official dollars!
That is the odd proceeding of the Wom
an's Improvement association at Las
Unices, N'. M., and as the president,
Mrs. 1). C. Hillings, puts it proudly:
“It’s the only hearse in the county.”
This enterprising incident indicates
the uphill work of clubwomen in tlie
sparsely settled southwestern states,
who long for some of the advantages
and aesthetics of so-called civilization
—an uphill work, it may be added,
which is unknown to big and thrice
blessed clubs in thickly populated cen
ters.
The Las Cruces Woman’s Improve
ment association has only 11 members.
When this ambitious little band organ
ized five years ago, it not only pur
chased a hearse to replace the rude
wagon that had previously served at
tlie head of funeral processions, but
set about otherwise to improve this
small town, made up mostly of unpro
gressive Mexicans and winter tourists.
They bought a section of land and pro
ceeded to convert it into a park by
planting trees and putting up a pa
vilion. Afterward they purchased a
lot for tlie purpose of erecting, some
prosperous day, a public library and.
clubhouse under one roof.
“You clubwomen of the north have
no idea how away-back-in-the-Hible
times these Mexicans,” wrote Mrs.
Hillings, according to the Pilgrim. “We
women have worked slowly and at
great disadvantage. Several times we
have applied to outside clubs for help,
but, receiving no answer, have decided
we must wait and work.”
A f present these clubwomen are build
ing a windmill to secure better irriga
tion—another unusual undertaking, in
deed.
HE DOCTORED THE EGGS.
A Physician I’lajfil Sherlock Holme*
and (niiulit n Dishonest
Em ploye.
A Long Island doctor who has been
missing eggs from his poultry yard
for some time is happy at last, for
he lias discovered the thief. For
months every effort and every device
to detect the culprit failed, but, filial
ly, the doctor hit upon a scheme that
was worthy of Sherlock Holmes.
lie took a dozen or more eggs anil
bored the tiniest of holes in the shell
of each. Then through these holes he
introduced into the eggs a piece of
very fine wire. The holes were then
filled with white wax and the eggs
returned to the nest.
A few days afterward the doctor was
called in to see the child of a woman
in the village near him. After attend
ing the child he talked about one thing
and another until the lady told him
of such a strange thing that had hap
pened to her. A few days before she
had bought a half dozen eggs from the
village grocer and in four of them she
had found short pieces of wire.
These were produced and shown tc
the doctor, who took possession of
them, and told the lady how they had
come to be in the eggs. He then inter
viewed the grocer, who finally admitted
that he had been buying eggs for some
time from a man employed by the
doctor. The man is now working else
where. says the New York Times, and
(Ik* doctor no longer patronizes that
particular grocer.
PONY LIVES ON COAL DIET.
A I’ef Shetland In Clilenvo Develops
an Appetite for lilt uin I noun
Fuel.
A Chicago butcher is greatly an
noyed by the insatiable appetite his
pet Shetland pony has shown of late
for soft coal. One day lately the
pony broke its halter strap, and. find
ing the barn door locked, squirmed
through a hole in n partition between
the barn and n coal shed, where it
was found some time later, content
edly munching the fuel.
The owner was at, a loss to account
for the unusually large amount of
coal his family had ued this winter
until he found the pony in the coal
bin. The discovery also explained, he
thought, why the pony had been “off
its feed" of late, and why condition
powders had failed to restore its ap
petite
In his opinion, the pony had been
in the habit of appeasing its hunger
with soft coal for several weeks past.
The animal has grown fat on its un
lymal diet.
A New Jtnllonnl Park.
Katherine Louise Smith tells in
Outlook the need and the oppor
tunity—for anew national park in
north central Minnesota. There
stands to-day a piece of ancient for
ested America (in fact, the only
great northern pine forest between
the Rocky mountains and the At
lantic ocean) which it is possible still
to save from destruction. Within the
limits of the Chippewa Indian reser
vation. along the Leech. Cass and
Wiunebagoshisli lakes, there are, as
if ready and waiting for this pur
pose, 611.502 acres of land and 215,-
270 acres of water surface. It is the
land of the original Dakotas and
Ojibwas the cradle of northwestern
story and tradition.
(’oimhlpriifp of Tlilef.
The following udi ertisement recent
ly appeared in a London paper: "Milk
If the individual who stole the milk
off my doorstep this morning will he
good enough to knock at the door on
the occasion of his next professional
visit I’ll give him a drop of rum to put
In if. Milk taken neat on cold mornings
and an empfv stomach is likely to in
jure the internal economy of outdoor
workers. Address, etc."
SEEQER BROS. & MILLER,
DENTISTS.
SOUTH EIGHTH STREET, MANITOWOC, WIS.
Local Anaesthetics used for painless
extraction of teeth.
DR. F. H.QEHBE.
DENTIST
COR. BTH AND FRANKLIN OPP. WAGNER’S STORE
We pay the above reward for any case of Liver Complaint,
Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Indigestion, Constipation
or Costiveness we cannot cure with
Liverita, The Up-to-Date Little Liver Pill
They are purely Vegetable and never fail to give satisfaction.
25c boxes contain 100 Pills, 10c boxes contain 40 Pills, 5c
boxes contain 15 Pills. Beware of substitutions and imitations.
Sent by mail. Stamps taken. -• Ncrvita Medical Cos., Corner
Clinton and Jackson Chicago, Illinois. Sold by
F. C. BUERSTATTE.
Corner Bth and JaySts. Manitowoc, Wisconsin.
IE fSi Igi ANY.
toj mmm* hi
DEAF? NOISES?
ALL CASES OF
DEAFNESS OR HARD HEARING
ARE NOW CURABLE
by our new invention. Only those born deaf are incurable.
HEAD NOISES CEASE IMMEDIATELY.
F. A. WERNIAN, OF BALTIMORE, SAYS:
. ‘ Baltimore, Md., March 30, 1901.
Gentlemen: Being entirely cured of deafness, thanks to your treatment, I will now give yott
• full history of my case, to be used at your discretion.
About five years ago my right ear began to sing, and this kept on getting worse, until I lost
my hearing in this ear entirely.
I underwent a treatment for catarrh, for three months, without any success, consulted a num
ber of physicians, among others, the most eminent ear specialist of this city, who told me that
only fin operation could help me, and even that only temporarily, that the head noises would
then cease, but the hearing in the affected car would be lost forever.
X then saw your advertisement accidentally in a New York paper, and ordered your treat
ment. After I had used it only a few days according to your directions, the noises ceased, and
to-day, after five weeks, my hearing in the diseased ear has been entirely restored. I thank you
heartily and beg to remain Very truly yours.
F. A. WERMAN, 730 S. Broadway, Baltimore, Md.
Our treatment does not interfere with your usual occn nation.
"■aUßffcr* YOU CAN CURE YOURSELF AT HOME "**sSsL‘“**
r.r Ti; TlOfi/Sl AL?AL CtISIC, 656 US SALLE AVI, CHICAGO, ILL
WALLPAPER
See the Pittsburg
Line Before otV Cos
BuvillSf THE WORKOf
DU^ the leading!
Exclusive Patterns \
EUROPEAN I J?fS)
Only on sale at ARTISTS Iyy A Apr ; •■
CHARLES F, FECHTER’S
SOUTH SIDE BOOK STORE.
NEAR THE BRIDGE.
HE FEARED HE HAD LOST
When Vr’u Ting Fang, the famous Chin,
eso Minister to Washington, irritable and
somewhat forgetful from a severe cold,
missed one day from the front of his cap the
immense diamond he always wears there,
he wae dreadfully frightened. A friend
pointed out that the statesman had inad
vertently donned his turban wrong side
before, and that the diamond was safe in
the rear. Had Wu Ting Fang been wear
ing a Henson's Porous Plaster on his chest
or back to cure his cold, he never would
have doubted its location. He would have
felt it doing its work,— wanning and mak
ing flexible the torpid muscles, extracting
the pain and soreness, promoting the free
circulation of the blood, stimulating the
skm ami lungs to proper action, and to
disolt>ing and banishing the malady. Thus
we perceive, beloved friends, that
THE BIQ DIAMOND ON HIS HAT
while a pretty thing to look upon, was Ot
no practical use. Hut Benson’s Plasters
are supremely useful. They relieve and
core gont, rheumatism, neuralgia, colds
on the chest, lame back, etc., so quickly
and completely as to make you wonder how
it can lie. Better rune, —well 10-morrore;
that’s the way they work, (let the genu
ine. AH druggists, or we will prejmy post
sge on any number ordered in the United
States on receipt of 26c. each.
Seabury k Johnson, llfg. CheuusU, N.Y.
The Wisconsin Central Railway
Maintains a daily train service be
tween Chicago, Milwaukee, Manitowoc,
St. Paul, Minneapolis, Ashland and
Duluth, reaching Ean Claire. Chippewa
Falls, Marshfield: Hurley, Ironwoodand
Bessemer as well as the principal points
of Wisconsin enronte. Connections with
roads, running South, East, West and
North are made at terminal points.
Pullman Sleepers are attached to all
night trains and meals are served A La
Carte. Any agent of the Wisconsin
Central Ry. will be pleased to give yon
further information, furnish tickets and
reserve sleeping car accommodations.
.las. C. Pond. Pass. Agt.,
Milwaukee. Wis.
VIA THE NORTHWESTERN LINE.
March 18th., April Ist and 15th, May
Oth and 20th. 1902, homeseekers tickets
will be on sale to points in California at
$2.00 more than one way fare for the
round trip, tickets good returning with
in 21 days. For further information
apply at ticket office.
J. F. O'Brian, Agent.