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Watertown leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1909-1911, July 28, 1911, Image 2

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85040722/1911-07-28/ed-1/seq-2/

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SttvtesmeA T
&y r C?lar m J' c_ flio
ORCE, picturesqueness and abil
ity In congress knows no sec-
1 8 tlons. Northerners, southern-
I crs, easterners and westerners
—I 11-i have their strengths and their
w'eaknesses, their likes and their
\ JL ) dislikes, their physical manner
isms and their mental idiosyn
\ J crasles just like all other human
There have been men In con
gress who year In and year out
on every occasion have kept hewing to the line
of one special legislative endeavor. John T.
Morgan, for years senator from the state of Ala
bama, worked for months untold to secure the
adoption by the United States government of the
Nicaraguan route for the great interoceanlc
canal. He lost out, but it is probable that the
facts which he obtained in his researches were of
more value to the diggers of the canal than those
gathered by any other one man.
Senator Morgan was one of the noted excep
tions to the psalmist’s rule for the limit of the
years of man. Some of the flippant, and pos
sibly tired, senators declared that Mr. Morgan’s
speeches were as long as his life. If the vole©
of the Alabama man had been younger there
would have been few sleepy ones In the senate
when ho talked—that is when he talked on any
other subject than the interoceanlc canal. Then
It was to fly before the face of his oratory.
There was substance to Senator Morgan’s
speeches, and this much cannot be said for the
vocal efforts of some of the flippant and younger
ones. The aged one’s words went into the Con
gressional Record and illuminated its pages.
When he rose to speak many of the colleagues
of Mr. Morgan retreated to the restaurant or the
cloak room. Only rarely did he take apparent no
tice of the seeming discourtesy. Once, wisely or
unwisely, he said with something of pathos in
his voice that he wished he could talk in the
lunch room, for there he would be sure of an
audience.
Mr. Morgan w-as no imperialist. He had a fear
in his heart of the outcome of the policy of expan
sion, and the note of warning that came from his
lips was frequent and forceful. One day, after
outlining the position which he believed his
country should take, his voice came back to
him. Senators starting to leave their seats sunk
back and listened. The words fairly rang through
the chamber. This was what he said:
"In this lofty attitude we can prove the vir
tue of the republic before the eyes of all man
kind, or we can set its light as a beacon to warn
coming generations that, even in the highest
reach of power and advantage, this republic—
the cynosure of all eyes—ls affected to the core
with the sin of covetousness, and is aflame with
the consequent lust of power that is attended
with the usurpations, tyrannies and oppressions
which have marked the course of the oligarchies
and despots that have disgraced the history of
other nations.”
The senate of th© United States stands for dig
nity. Sometimes the dignity is overdone, but, on
one occasion the Senate was undignified to the
point of striking several older senators with
horror.
Senator Tillman of South Carolina was mak
ing nothing lois than an Impassioned speech. He
was reaching toward the skies of oratory, when
Senator Warren left his seat, unseen of Tillman,
and took station behind the South Carolinian.
The speaker had both hands high over his head
directing the soaring of his thoughts and words.
Warren took a step forward. His hand stole
to Tillman’s side, slipped into his pocket, and
came out again holding in its clutch a big black
bottle.
All unconscious Tillman w’ent on with his words
of fire. Warren held bis find aloft in full view
of the presiding officer, of his colleagues and the
crowded galleries. There was a gasp, then a
smothered and simultaneous gurgle of horror
from a hundred throats, and then roaring laugh
ter uncheckable.
Tillman turned and knowledge of the awfulness
of his situation came to him. For once, possibly
for the first time in his life, he was staggered
to speechlessness. He strove for words, but they
came not at his bidding. His face was first black
with something like anger. Then the cloud clear
ed and a smile broke through. Speech returned,
and two words came; “Boracic acid.”
It was boracic acid, but unfortunately for Mr.
Tillman, it had been put into a black and suspi
cious bottle. A sore throat was the reason for its
carrying, and while the South Carolinian is a
man of known truth, he would not let the matter
pass until he had passed the bottle and had
forced him comrades to smell the stuff and make
clear his temperance record.
Neither senate nor house makes light of pen
sion pleas in the presence of the galleries, but
some of the would-be pensioners play comic roles
in the committee rooms and corridors. Claim
ants who can prove things are treated as old sol
diers and old soldiers’ widows ought to be treated
—decently and reverently.
Congress in its weakness has voted pensions
on many an occasion, though doubtless know
ing that the pensions were unearned and unde
served, but the day of that sort of thing is pass
ing. if it has not altogether gone. One member
was asked to use his influence to secure an in-
The Shepherd of the Black Sheep
Professor Sir Charles Bell in the
Strand Calls It a Convulsive Ac
tion of the Diaphragm.
“Laughter,” says Professor Sir
Charles Bell in the London Strand, “is
a convulsive action of the diaphragm.
In this state the person draws a full
breath and throws it out in interrupt
ed, short and audible cachinnations.
This convulsion of the diaphragm Is
the principal part of the physical man
ifestation of laughter; but there are
several accessories, especially the
sharp vocal utterance arising from the
violent tension of the larynx and the
expression of the features, this being
Thought it Was a Giraffe
Kow a Georgia Darky Clubbed and
Captured Nero, the Ferocious
Man-Eating Lion.
Capt. Pierre Droulilard looked from
the piazza at the rain falling drearily
the other day, says a New York letter
to the Cincinnati Times-Star. It re
minded him, he said, of the time that
h one-ring circus was tornadoed
H
crease of pension for the widow of a soldier.
There were papers forwarded to him which bore
on the case, and these he turned over to the
committee on pensions after his bill had been
Introduced.
The widow did not get her money, and it was
not long before the whole house knew why. The
member who had espoused the widow’s cause
had been in congress for years, and the joke at
his expense was too good to keep, and one after
another of his colleagues walked up to his desk
and congratulated him on the wisdom shown in
the plea which was in written form, he had
turned in to the committee to win the widow’s
case.
It is perhaps needless to ray that the mem
ber had never read the plea. It set forth the
fact that while the amount of pension increase
the widow of the soldier hero asked for was
large, it must be understood “that she came of
good family, moved in the best social circles, and
was In need of a large sum of money to keep up
appearances.”
Upon occasion senators and representatives per
mit their constituents to do their talking for
them in congress. Petitions come in floods at
times, with the object of securing legislation by
external pressure. In the Smoot case, and in
the pure food and army canteen matters the pleas
of the people came in by the tens of thousands.
The members of both houses present these let
ters, call attention to their import and then allow
the petition to do the rest if they are potent
enough.
Senator Latimer of South Carolina once intro
duced a good roads bill calling for the expendi
ture of government millions for the improvement
of the highways. The automobilists all over the
country began sending letters of approval. They
pressed their friends into the writing service, but
that they did not always pass upon the persuasive
merits of the friends' productions is shown fair
ly well by one letter on the good roads’ subject
received by Senator Cullom. It read like this;
“Dear Mr. Cullom: Please vote for this d —d
bill, and you will oblige a fool friend of mine
who runs an automobile. Yours more or less
sincerely, ”
It was a Chicago man who wrote this appeal.
There were others like unto it. The good roads
bill svill sleeps.
In the older days the school readers contained
the story of “I’ll Try Sir Miller.” Probably
everybody knows who “I’ll Try Sir Milter,” was.
Certainly eveybody ought to know r . Gen. James
Miller then a captain, was the hero of Lundy’s
Lane. He said he would try to do the thing
necessary for the thrashing of the enemy, and he
did it, and “I’ll Try Sir,” took the place of his
Christian name James.
a more intense form of the smile. In
extreme cases the eyes are moistened
by the effusion from the lachrymal
glands.”
There you have a scientific defini
tion. But It Is clear that mankind
would hardly take the trouble to go
through fhat experience if that is all
that laughter consisted of. They
would not regard a Dickens or a
Mark Twain as a benefactor merely
because a perusal of their writings
produced that. No; even the philoso
phers know that laughter is something
better than that —something internal
—that there is such a thing as silent
laughter. Hobbes calls laughter “a
down In Georgia. The main top was
blown down, the menagerie tent was
destroyed, all the cages were upset
and the animals escaped. The man
agement huddled about a stove in a
cross-roads store and peered pessi
mistically into a dismal future. The
chances were they would never get
the animals back. The chances were
better that someone would be in-
sudden glory arising from a sudden
conception of some eminency in our
selves by comparison with the infirm
ity of others, or w r ith our own for
merly.”
If a laugh is a benefaction and the
provoker of a laugh a benefactor, why
are there more statues to dull people
than to witty ones? Who was the
greatest laugh promoter in history?
It was said of Sidney Smith that he
was the father of 10,000,000 laughs.
Laughter,” said Lord Rosebery re
cently, “is a physical necessity. We
live under a sunless sky, surrounded
by a melancholy ocean, and it is a
physical necessity for the English na
tion—even for the Scotch nation and
the Welsh nation—to laugh. It ex
hilarates all social relations. Was
not,” his lordship added, “the laugh
Jured by the savage and ferocious
beasts, which were exhibited at one
price of admission. By and by a
negro approached. “Did you all lose
a gi-raffe?” he asked.
“We lost everything,” said the man
ager, shortly. “But we'll pay you if
you get the giraffe back.”
“It ought to be tvorf two dollahs to
git dat gi-raffe bseV’ said the darky.
“Pears lak he a powahful bad-tem
persd gi-raffe. If Ah hadn’t wallop
ed him wif a club, dat gi-raffe would
done bitten me.”
For years several representatives In congress
tried to secure an appropriation to be used for
the building of a monument to General Miller at
Peterboro, N. H., near which town “I’ll Try Sir”
lived on a farm before the war of 1812, and for
years after its close. The representatives who
had the matter of pushing the bill in hand used
the words of Captain Miller at Lundy’s Lane to
express their own determination to secure a vic
tory. They certainly did try, and the speeches
that were made before the library committee of
congress held patriotic appeals in every sentence.
Apparently, however, it was easier for Miller to
capture a battery against odds than it was for
members of congress to capture the dollars neces
sary to build a monument of enduring stones
to his memory.
It was a case of try and try again. While the
cause of Miller, whose heroism was worth a
dozen monoments, was being pleaded, congress
voted money for memorials to other men less de
serving. Finally, however, a New Hampshire
member who had been digging into history found
out something about “I’ll Try Sir’s” career which
was not generally known. Congress had been
told time and again that Captain Miller not only
had shown conspicuous gallantry at Lundy Lane,
but that prior to that fight he had thrashed a
superior force of British and Indians at Managua.
Congress had also been told that Miller had com
manded the center column of General Brown’s
army, which routed what was apparently an
overwhelmingly greater force of the British at
Fore Erie.
These things didn’t make an impression. Con
gress seemed to think that Inasmuch as Miller
was a soldier that it was his business to defeat
superior forces of the enemy every day in the
week without imposing any monument-raising
duty on posterity. The New Hampshire member,
however, found out that after the war of 1812
Miller "went back to his farm near Petersboro,
plowed fields, chopped wood and milked the cows
instead of going to Washington to ask the gov
ernment to do something for him on account of
his record.
Miller’s popularity was such after the treaty of
peace that the government probably would have
been glad to give him anything that it had to
give. When “I’ll Try Sir” was asked why he
was playing Cincinnatus instead of taking a job
in Washington, he replied: “When men begin
leaving the farms for the cities the nation will
begin to decay.”
Congress was told of this saying of Miller’s,
and either admiration for his choice of a farm
er’s life or else belief that he was a prophet
who before long might have the truth of hla
prophecy proved, brought a favorable report
from the committee on library in the matter of
the monument at Petersboro.
of Sir Frank Lockwood something that
would make a stuffed bird rejoice?
And those who listened to the splen
dor of merriment which he could im
part by that laugh realize the intense
value of that emotional exercise.”
Alibi.
Father (having caught his son In
a lie) —Haven’t I always told you to
tell the truth?
Son —Yes, father; but you also told
me never to become the slave of a
habit.
Do you ever think of the irrevocable
nature of speech? You may find,
years after your light word was
spoken spoken, that it made a whole
life unhappy, or ruined the peace of
a household. —Stopford Brooke.
“Giraffes don't bite, you fool,' the
manager said. ‘Giraffes kick. But you
bring him back and we’ll give you two
dollars.”
“Dis gi-raffe bites,” the colored man
insisted. In a few moment he reap
peared, leading by a rope around his
neck, Nero, the Most Ferocious Man-
Eating in Captivity. “W’oa,” said
he, jerking at the rope. Nero stopped
obedient in the rain. “Gimme nmli
two dollahs, w’ite man," said he.
“Heah’s youah gi-raffe. An' he de
bile.”
Their Step-Sister’s Surprise
By CORA A. DONALDSON
Ruth sat alone on the veranda,
stranded by the merry withdrawing
tide of young folk who were going
out at the gate with cushions, shawls
and coats. There were six of them —
each of her tall, gorgeously colored
young stepsisters had her beau. They
were bound for the river where boats
were waiting. Ruth, with a long sigh,
could think of nothing nicer than to
be able to spend an hour on the river
in the light of the rising moon, ac
companied by somebody who was
sufficiently happy just in the privilege
of making love to her.
The young folks’ gay laughter came
back to her from the still street She
leaned against the pillar, folding her
hands and trying to imagine what she
had never experienced. Behind her
was the cheerful disorder of a hasty
exodus, chairs out of their places,
newspapers scattered, the rug kicked
up. She ought to put things in order,
but she was so tired.
And after tomorrow there were oth
er days just as busy, just as weari
some—an endless succession whose
duties must be faced with every bit
of energy she could muster. The
girls were young and thoughtless.
Twenty, eighteen, sixteen they were
—just in their bloom. She was eight
years older. She felt eighty years
older sometimes.
She had been twenty when her
stepmother died. It was a sad house
hold, and her father was always so
helpless. He had turned to her.
Trying to Imagine What She Had
Never Experienced.
There had seemed nothing for her to
do but pick up the fallen reins of do
mestic government and handle them as
best she could. It was appalling bow
unprepared she was, for she had
learned little save music. She had
meant to teach it, but, alas, her teach
ing had begun and ended with the
family circle. As for practicing, she
never had time for it now. Staring
up at the moon, she wandered if she
had done all the duty required of her.
At least she had done as well as she
could. Her stepsisters, handsome,
too, with their red hair and glowing
complexions. To see them was to ad
mire them.
She had always divided the money
that came her way impartially among
the three. It went such a little way
after all. They were big and it took
so much cloth to clothe them. Then,
too, they had such a love for adorn
ment. sho was at her wits’ ends some
times to supply their demands in
ways that w r ould not distress her fa
ther. It was a good thing that she
was small, for the best parts of the
girls’ discarded clothing made over
very nicely for her. Only in footgear
was she forced to be extravagant.
She wore out so many shoes walking
at her house work.
The girls did not help her very
much. They hated housework. She
could not blame them. She thought
she hated it herself sometimes. And
really it was as easy to do a task her
self as to coax somebody to do it for
one. The girls were young—just in
the midst of their girlhood and wild
to have all the good times they could.
Youth came but once in a lifetime,
as Louise said.
It same to Ruth suddenly that she
had never had time to be young at
all. First she had worked so bard in
order to become self-supporting; then
she had had to take charge of the
household. For eight years she had
played the part of a self-denying
house mother. She had been to no
parties, had no smart frocks. As for
beaus —why, she had had no time at
KNEW SHE WAS VERY UGLY
How the Experienced Gossip Could
Tell What Jim’s New Wife
Looked Like.
After the report had been current
for a week that Jim’s wife, whom.
Jim had met and married and was
fetlll secluding In Chicago, was ugly
as sin, a friend who had Jim’s in
terests at heart ran down the author
of the rumor with the intention of
making her retract.
“How do you know she Is ugly?”
he asked. “Have you ever seen her?"
“No,” said the experienced gossip,
“I never fcave, neither have I seen
her picture, nor anybody who has
seen either her o her picture, but
I know she Is ugly, because I had it
straight from a person who lives in
Chicago that when she ordered a
dozen pictures taken just a while be
fore the wedding the photographer
made her pay in advance, and a
photographer never does that unless
the subject Is go ugly that she is apt
first and latterly the girls had won
all the attention. Louise was al
ready engaged. She looked upon Kuth
as an old maid. “You’ll never marry
now,” she said. No, she never would.
The girls would go, but she would
stay. Her father and she would be
old together. For her it would be a
case of “crusts and left-overs” to the
end.
Hark! The man next door was play
ing and singing. She knew* what he
was singing. It was “The Monotone.”
W hat a strange man he was —or, at
least, Helen said he was strange, and
she knew him better than any of
them, unless, indeed. It was her la
ther. Ever since he had come with
his old sister to live In the beautiful
house nest door he had been kind to
them all, sharing his fruit and flow
ers with them and lending the girls
books and music. They were always
going to bis house on some mission
or other, and they were always wel
come. Ruth had gone once decor
ously to call, as befitted her position
as nominal head of her father’s house
hold. She had been a little awed by
what she had seen. It must be so
nice to have rugs that had no worn
places and chairs whose interior
mechanism of springs was successful
ly concealed by abundant stuffing.
Mrs. Fleet had been very sweet to
her, but Ruth had felt somehow that
she preferred the society of the girls.
And so she had not gone again.
The piano next door ceased. Mr.
Marr evidently did not intend to sing
again. Ruth wished he would. When
ever she heard him playing she felt
an impulse to fly to the old piano in
the parlor and practice with might
and main. It was a pity that her
music had cost so much and nad
come to nothing.
“Miss Ruth!” A man stood bare
headed on the grass before her look
ing at her, a kindly smile under his
grayish mustache.
She brought her eyes down from
the moon to him with a start “So
the youngsters have gone and left
you?” he said. “I heard a commo
tion here a little while ago and sus
pected that the river had called them.
It has called me, too. I’ve got anew
boat down there under the bank —the
paint is just dry on it —oh, a beautiful
boat —and as my sister is as afraid of
water as a hen I’ve come to see If
you won’t go with me for a little row.
“Oh, Mr. Marr!” Ruth gasped in de
light and her face bloomed In shy
radiance. “Why, I’ve just been dying
to go—and now I can! It’s so good
of you to ask me."
Oh, the wonder of the river and the
moon and the boat’s motion and the
man at the oars, whose face looked
young enough and handsome enough
in the generous light! He sung to
her softly in his rich voice; he talked
to her; he told her amusing stories.
And Ruth forgot that she was +lmid
and forlorn and laughed and confided
in him until it seemed that she had
told him every secret of her poor lit
tle life.
“It is a pity that you have had to
neglect your music when you love it
so,” he said, “but I am sure that with
a few good lessens you could pick it
up again easily.”
“I suppose so,” Ruth sighed, “but
you see I haven’t the time.”
“Take time. Give your housekeep
ing over to your sisters.” As she
stared at him in surprise he leaned
forward resting upon the oars.
“Ruth, tell me, if you could, wouldn’t
you emancipate yourself by marrying
somebody who had money and would
be good to you. Wouldn’t you, dear?”
“But —nobody—would—”
“Yes, somebody would —does. 1,
Ruth. I must seem like a pretty old
fellow to you, but I believe I could
make you happy. I want you, dear.
And my sister is willing. We have
talked it over together. If you will
marry me I can promise, that you
shall never regret.”
An hour later Ruth, somewhat re
covered from the excitement of re
ceiving and accepting her first pro
posal, stole upstairs. As she opened
the door of her room an unsual sight
greeted her. The girls were there
squatting on the floor about the open
window.
“We couldn’t see the moon any
where else,” Louise said. “Where
have you been, Ruth?”
“I’ve been on the river,” Rutb an
swered, trying to keep her happy
voice steady. “I went with Mr. Marr
In his new boat. And —and, oh, girls!
I may as well tell you. I’m —he —I’m
going to marry him!”
There was an aghast silence. Then
Louise spoke.
“Well,” she said, "of course It’s all
right if you love him.”
“Love him!” Ruth repeated, and
her voice rang. “I adore him, girls,”
she cried.
to be discouraged when she sees the
pictures and refuse to pay for them
on the ground that he hasn’t done
good work. If you don’t believe me
ask any photographer.”
But Jim’s champion let the matter
drop.
A New Way of Earning Money.
I live in a large block. There are
nine flats in It owned by one person,
who employs an agent to look after
the property. Thinking one day about
some way to make a little extra mon
ey, it occurred to me that many people
came to see vacant flats who never
came again because the agent lived
so far away. I offered to keep keys
at my home, to show rooms to possible
customers, to let them see my rooms
when they desired, and to show off the
good points of the flats to renters. I
asked a reduction In my rent as pay.
He gave It at once. It is the same as
earning money and It has led to other
methods of earning, so that now we
pay almost no rent. —Harper’s Bazar
IN THE UP-TO-DATE FASHION
I
Lecturer Found It No Trouble at All
to Answer Question Meant to
Embarrass Him.
“Will you allow me to ask you a
question?" Interrupted a man in the
audience.
“Certainly, sir," said the lecturer.
“You have given us a lot of figures
about Immigration, Increase of wealth,
the growth of trusts and all that,"
said the man." Let's see what you
know about figures yourself. How do
you find the greatest common di
visor?”
Slowly and deliberately the orator
took a glass of water.
Then he pointed his finger straight
at the questioner. Lightning flashed
from his eyes, and he replied, in a
voice that made the gas jets quiver:
"Advertise for It, you ignoramus!”
The audience cheered and yelled
and stamped, and the wretched man
who had asked the question crawled
out of the hall a total wreck.
DISFIGURED WITH CRUSTS
“Some time ago I was taken with
eczema from the top of my head to
my waist. It began with scales on my
body. I suffered untold Itching and
burning, and could not sleep. I was
greatly disfigured with scales and
crusts. My ears looked as if they had
been most cut off with a razor, and
my neck was perfectly raw. I suffered
untold agony and pain. I tried two
doctors who said I had eczema in its
fullest stage, and that it could not
be cured. I then tried other rem
edies to no avail. At. last, I tried a set
of the genuine Cutlcura Remedies,
which cured me of eczema when all
else had failed, therefore I cannot
praise them too highly.
"I suffered with eczema about ten
months, but am now entirely cured,
and I believe Cuticura Remedies are
the best skin cure there is.” (Signed)
Miss Mattie J. Shaffer, R. F. D. 1, Box
8, Dancy, Miss., Oct. 27, 1910.
“I had suffered from eczema about
four years when boils began to break
out on different parts of my body. It
started with a fine red rash. My
back was affected first, when it also
spread over my face. The Itching was
slmost unbearable at times. I tried
different soaps and salves, but nothing
seemed to help me until I began to
use the Cutlcura Soap and Ointment.
One box of them cured me entirely. I
recommended them to my sister for
her baby who was troubled with tooth
eczema, and they completely cured her
baby.” (Signed) Mrs. F. L. Marber
ger, Drehersville, Pa., Sept. 6, 1910.
Although Cuticura Soap and Oint
ment are sold everywhere, a sample
of each, with 32-pagc book, will be
mailed free on application to 4 Cut!*
cura,” Dept. 4 L, Boston.
THERE ARE OTHERS.
Caller —I thought you said your baby
could talk.
Young Mother —So he can, but I’m
the only one who can understand him.
“Boy Scout” Movement Spreads.
The “boy scouts” movement has
reached the Malay peninsula, and
Singapore is to have a fine organiza
tion under the patronage of the gov
ernor and chief justice. It is a good
thing in many ways, aside from the
military training, and bids fair to
become one of the permanent and
most popular institutions of the penin
sula. All through the British colonies
“boy scout” organizations are being
formed.
FALSE HUNGER
A Symptom of Stomach Trouble Cor>
rected by Good Food.
There Is, with some forms of stom
ach trouble, an abnormal craving for
food which is frequently mistaken for
a “good appetite.” A lady teacher
writes from Carthage, Mo., to ex
plain how with good food she dealt
with this sort of hurtful hunger.
“I have taught school for fifteen
years, and up to nine years ago had
good, average health. Nine years ago,
however, my health began to fail,
and continued to grow worse steadily,
in spite of doctor’s prescriptions, and
everything I could do. During all this
time my appetite continued good, only
the more I ate the more 1 wanted to
eat —I was always hungry.
“The first symptoms of my break
down were a distressing nervousness
and a loss of flesh. The nervousness
grew so bad that finally it amounted to
actual prostration. Then came stom
ach troubles, which were very painful,
constipation -which brought on piles,
dyspepsia and severe nervous head
aches.
“The doctors seemed powerless to
help me, said I was overworked, and
at last urged me to give up teach
ing, if I wished to save my life.
“But this I could not .do. I kept on
at it as well as I could, each day grow
ing more wretched, my will-power
alone keeping me up, till at last a
good angel suggested that I try a diet
of Grape-Nuts food, and from that
day to this I have found It delicious
always appetizing and satisfying.
“I owe my restoration to health to
Grape-Nuts. My weight has returned
and for more than two years I have
been free from the nervousness, con
stipation, piles, headaches, and all the
ailments that used to punish me so,
and have been able to work freely and
easily.” Name given by Postum Cos.,
Battle Creek, Mich.
Read the little book, “The Road to
Wellvllle," in pkgs. “There’s a Reason.”
Ever read the above letter? Anew
one appears from time to time. They
•re ffenalae, true, and full of bnmaa
Interest.

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