Newspaper Page Text
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.