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Fh CUlVaUik, JUSo-lSSG. If we ha/i lived in TTI j^r clays. ^Wlip-i tuin^trei^ fig tneir lathes' praise '!!.4-in listenm:? court-* to kin.:-. v.*Wlv,t nm^ie from the i Mptnrocl strings then h.ul v.on r" liaiuj ier face And peeiless giac~ Tn thesj lr.i\ days, v. hen knightly love I'\i:v 1 5oi t! its 'is in -v to Drove JF .ve lind hvo'i.how el.Mily I ''.KI r.i'p'l tli fou .in I t.iuvncy cry To inoot brave death or deathless lame In hei dj.ir r'rinie! D'lt P'CJ wo ci" (onde'nnd by fate I'o n.i'l the earth '-o ssidly late Li .t di L-it'i l.i n-o and rhyme A'iti in io 'thinner of t'ie time. Tc prove \\hat p.iasion J- !a her billfe' in me thrills, F. E. Bard in Life. MY BIRTHDAY. We, r.iothcr Kaynor, Jack and I, weie sitting our little f-it ting-room, our h^tioom, but not parlor, i'or mother would never rail the httle box of a loom by so dignified a title, and for the hundredth time they were tell ing me what they knew of my life. "You see, Birdie," said mother,*as I had always callad her, "it was a stoiiny night and Jack had been de tamed at the storehe was cash boy at Cotton it Co.'s thenbut ju^t as he was running up the steps about se\en o'clock he met a woman hurrying down them. She brushedby without speaking, and he, when he reached the door, almost stumbled o\ er a basket where you lay all snug cled up in warm flannels. Ah, but yo'i were a nice babv, my dear." "Pity my mother hadn't thought so'"' sarcastically observed. 'iubtediy you would have fared i Hian in our humble home,' i .Jf.k, grimly.u Jack, yo don't think that d"ir I hastily asked. "I t=e badly to think my own inn blood would abandon me /trust me with strangers, that's i "..a* was seventeen years ago to niuhl," meditated mother ii: our comersation. chimed in, anxious to clear i Ucd from Jack forehead "and you have always called it my birth day, and have made the day so pleas ant: for me, too. Let me bee." I rat- tliJVim "you thought I must have been about a year old, and so I am eij.teen to-morrow. Have you made my nirthday cake yet, mother?" "\es indeed. And that reminds me I must out and see to the frost ing it, to Tiujht. Xo, you stay riht heie. etch her. Jack, i'or she is not to see the cake until to-moirow." I retreated before her laughing com mand, ami seeing how sour Jack still looked. I dottrmined to domy best to make him behave like his own old sth a^.in. Perching myself on the aim oi his chair I leaned over, trying to catch his eye. "Cic^j, dear/" I asked, very sweet ly "No." he iv plied in a tone that said, "Yes, decidedly so let me alone." I/'it I was not to be rebutted. Slip ping my arms around his neck I drew liX Ihce aiouud toward mine. "Yci'ie sorry you didn't send me to the Foundlings' Jloiue, aien't yon? It's enough to make any one (TOM, to think how he has been tio':lle for seventeen years just be (ausrh-wa so softhearted over a nihi" able lit tit baby "whose own peo ple didn't care about keeping it. Are yoic soi'iy, Jat k'" "Are on, Bird?" lie suddenly straightened up, a look in his dark eyes I had never noticed these berore. 'What have I to be sorry for?" I asked. \\Vs I not thrown into the hands of the dearest, kindest mother and oi her a girl ever had?" "Y*-s, dealthat is, we've always meant kindness, but still I am not your brother." "I 1 now it, but I love JTOU jut as well," 1 be^an. tu some way under tne steady Jook of Jolm's beautiful ey*'s I iruild not t,o on with my usual protest,i(ion* oi affection, as I had al ways been in the habit ot doing, and I diewmy arm aw.iy lrom about his neik. "Fu I don't want you to, Bird," he paid slowly and then he went on oa^i'i'ly, ".My darling, I want you to Jo\ me ]tist as well as I do you. I want you tor my veiy own, tor my tic. Bird." clasping me close in his strong arms he told me how happy I could make him by saying 1hat 1 loved him. And so strongly did he argue his case that some nay I was completely won o\er to bin way of thinking, and before the b'n ihday cake was frosted Jack and I wett engaged. "J ve accepted Jack as a birthday Erift," I whi.speied to mother as Iran out. A radiant look of surprised joy fair ly illuminated her dear old face as she omprehended the meaning of my re mark. "It has been the wish of my life," she whispered, kissinc me softy. 'B ready for other birthday gifts to-mor- row." .she called after me. "Oh, happy birthday!" I whispered when to-morrow dawned, and I, awak ing, remembered my promise to Jack. "What better gift could I have asked than the gift of dear Jack's love?" Several little tokens were at my breakfast plate some very expensive, too, for since Jack's pictures had be gun to sell so well and orders poured in faster than he could execute them he had begun to be quite exfrava gant. He had gratified an oft-expressed wish of mine by having a little cameo sarring, found in the basket in which they first found me, set in a ring for me for one of my birthday presents. It was an exquisite, clear-cut cameo, and it had a decidedly unique setting so I had always indulged in the hope that sometime, perhaps, I might learn through it who my parents were. It had evidently dropped into the basket by mistake, for there was noth- 2ji2 else about me to identify me. There were none of the proverbial strawberry marks or mole3 so often found on lost children in stories, so I had only the cameo to connect me with the unknown past. So I slipped it on my finger and when Jack told me to keep it for an engage ment until he could procure another it became doubly dear to me. By-and-by, as soon as breakfast was" finished, much to my surprise and disappointment, my lover went up to his studio and remained invisi efor two hours. "He might have spent my birthday with me, anyhow," I pouted as I plodded up stairs feeling "blue" enough. I knocked at the door of his studio. "Not iust now, dear I'm busy,"' came in Jack's voice from beyond the door. Angry and indignant, for he had al lowed me to spend my mornings there for fwo months x^ast, silently went to my own room. I was angrier still wh.cn ten minutes later his door opened to admit Miles Griffith, a fellow trom the Artists' Club. Then I was ready to cry with vexation. They had always petted and sx^oiled me, mother and Jack, and let me have my own way, so that I could not bear even this little neglect gracefully. At last I was determined tobemean enough to listen and hear if I could what they were talking about so earn estly in the studio. Me, I found out at once, for Jack had just spoken my name as I guiltily put my ear to the keyhole. A dis giaceful thing to do, I admit, but as I mean this to be a faithful account of my birthday, and as I really did listen at the keyhole, I record it. "I have made a great mistake," said Jack, sighing heavily. I couldn't distinguish Mr. Griffith's reply, but. hushing my breath, heard Jack say, "It has always been mv mother's wish. I did it more to please her, I suppose- She loves Bird dearly,and" With a dry sob I fell forward on the rug. I could not have stirred then had they opened the door and saw ine there. "He has found out this early that he has made a mistake, has he? I thought bitterly, when my brain stopped whirlingsolcould think. "It is only to please his mother that he asked me to become his wife. And to think he should reveal his disappoint ment to that horrid old Griffith iirstl Oh it was too humiliating'" I resolved to release him at once, but again I listened, having a dim hope, I suppose, that perhaps sny ears had deceived me. "It it suits my mother" began Jack. "That's not the thmg," interrupted Griff'th. "You nevv.r would be suited. She lacked expression and" "Ye*, I knownaturalness I know the laults!or I'm hotter acquainted with Birdie than you are, Griffith." "To be sure," assented Griffith. "Mouth too large eyes very wicant, I've noticed. I advice you to give it up." "I'll take your advice," exclaimed Jack emphatically. Then I rushed to my room. So through Griffith'.: advice, which Jack seemed so ready to take, my brief little romance wasto be shatter ed. Well, 1 would never stay and let him see my heart break, too tor 1 felt sure I never could live through this trouble, HO dear had Jack in the role of lover become to me in a, few short hours. So, some waynow it all seems like a vague dream to meI found niyseli a few hours later wandering aimlessly down a strange street, nrtt *^li ireset." seventeen years ago that your child was stolen?" I asked eager ly. "Yes. What do you know of it?" he questioned hoarseiy. "I know that I am your child then." After I had told the story so often repeated to me by my mother Raynor they were perfectly satisfied that I be longed to them, and their joy beggars description. Their story was tha/t my lather had given his wite a necklace of diamonds and seeing how pleased her baby was with it she had shaken the stones be fore its eyes, and at last, in a spirit of tun, c!aped it about the child's neck. But she did not understand the fastening, and as her husband wa5 away from home and she could not get the chain over the child's head, she was obliged to let the nurse put the infant to sleep with the glittering or nament about its neck. But the temp tation proved too great for the nurse, so she had taken baby quietly out to a neighboring jeweller's and had the necklace unfastened. The theory we.my new-found parents and I, formed was, that becoming frightened at her own exploit, and not daring to try to replace the babyI never can reali/.e that that baby was myselflest she be discovered she con cluded to abandon it entirely. "Now, where do these people live who have cared so kindly for you? I must see them," said my mother Reluctantly I gave the address. Jack came straight to me after my mother told her errand, and he look ed so old and worn and haggard that for a moment I was lost in pity for him. Then I remembered the indelicate remarks he had made to Miles Griffith, and in trying to be frigidly cool I only succeeded in ciying weakly. "Oh, Jack' Jack" I sobbed, unable to be anything but mv own impetu ous self "why did you teach me to love you only to tire of me so soon?" "Tire! How? What do you mean, dear?" he asked, taking my hands anx iously as it he feared I was not quite rational. "It was my birthday, Jack. Don't you remember you had Griffith up in the studio? And you told him you had made a great mistake in engaging yourself to me, andand he advised you to give it up,advice. would follow7 knowing or caring where mv steps tended. Some workmen obstructed the sidewalk and I was obliged to cross the street. I remember stepping down and advanc ing a few steps,of hearinghoare shouts of warning, feeling a sudden shock and then all was b'ank. When I returned to consciousness I was a strange room everything was strange to me. "Where am I?" I asked, although I could see no one. "What has happen- ed?*^ "You are with friends," said a low, soft voice ne tr me. Turning my eyes, they fell on a sweet faced lady not yet old, although her hair was nearly white, sitting near me. "How came I here?" I demanded, in a weak, startled voice. "You are weak, but I trusti to your good sense to remain calm while I tell you why you are here. About a month ago you were crossing the street and my husband and I accident ally ran against and severely injured you. There was nothing about you to inentify you, so we brought you home." "And this was a month. Has no one been here? Did you ad\ ertise?" "No, replied the lady. It was re ported in the police news I believe, as my husband had to pay a large fine for his carelessness, but I "never thought of advertising for your friends. I supposed they would go to the sta tion, and then be directed here, if you had any in the city." "I have none," I said bitterly. "I was only a foundling, living upon charity all my life." I was,reckles. I did not think how unnecessary it wasto speak of mj'own history to a stranger. A whole month had I lain there and no one had call ed. And my pale, thm hands showed how near to death's dcor I had been. As I lay looking at my wasted fin gers I noticed that my ring was gone. Hastily I inquired where it was. My new-found acquaintance blush ed, and then said, "Will you allow my husband to talk with you a few moments? He has your cameo." In a few moments a tall, handsome gentleman accompanied her into the room. "Years ago," he began, after apolo gizing for being the cause of my illness, and congratulating me on my recov ery, "I had a pair of cameos carved in this city. They were unlike any thing ever seen here. I had them set in a pair of earrings for my wife. One night our house was robbed by a trusted servant the cameos were tak en with other valuables." lafcpw 4 i' "Was anything else taken?" I asked sitting upright, forgetting for a mo ment my weak state. Vfr. *p8^ The gentleman strove to control his emotion, but his wife was silently weeping near the window. "Yes, our only child," he replied brokenly. "Now will you tell me how you came by this cameo, for it is the same? I to-day took it to the person who carved it for me so long ago, and he recognized it at once, although it has bee "WTasn and you said you hi^ For three minutes Jack stared at me, and then he, with difficulty repres ing an inclination to laugh, said: "My darling, how could you believe it? Now listen. As you know, my forte is landscapes. Well, I thought I'd make one moie uial at portraits, so, while I have been entertainingyou and mother so politely in the studio, I was shly taking -sittings.' You know your birthday, or the day we celebrate as youis, and mother's 'all on thts same day so as she had often expressed a wish to have your por trait painted, and thinking that you woul I like hers, I painted your coun terfeits as best I could, and then be fore I showed them I sent for Griffith, the fairest critic in the club. He told me candidly that^as a portrait paint er I was a dead 'failure, and advised me to lsever let the public see my at tempts. The criticisms you heard were of your picture not you. Are you satisfied9" "Perfectly," I answered, feeling as i) I could get well and strong at once. "But my poor birthday was all spoil- ed," I sighed. "To-day is your birthday, my dear/' interrupted my new mother, brightly, entering th room with Mother Ray nor "and if the othpr was spoiled ask what you will and vou may have it." "IT. take Jack," I said gayly. And so I did, "lor belter or worse," a year from my eighteenth birthday. The Suicide Mania. A compilation made by the Insur anee Chronicle presents many curi ou leatures of the suicide mania, as follows: The suicides as reported ir the papers for four years, number 6, 283. Ot tins number 471 were maid ens and 1,315 bachelors. The signifi cance ot this feature is lost when it is shown that 2,053 husbands and but 598 wives put themselves out of the way. As maid orwifethewomenhavc the best of it The widowers whe found life a burden number 28S and the widows who sought voluntary graves number 128. Of the total number 780 were fai mers. and about one in every 2,000 is the ratio among journalists, commercial travelers and saloonkeepeis. The time of year chos en by 635 persons to put themselves out of the way was the month of June. The favorite age was thirty-five years and Indiana had the largest number of any state in the Union. The rea sons assigned for some of the suicides are silly in the extreme, and some of the methods employed uniquelj* hor rible. One woman killed herself be cause her mother did, and another be cause she had a pimple on her nose. Such people could do the world no possible good anyway. One young woman killed herself because her par ents would not allow her to become a Mormon, and a New Yorker shot himself because he hadn't a nickel to put in the collection box at church. Life must have been "an empty dream" to him. Several persons died in incalculable agony by jumping into fiery furnaces, and others saturated their clothing with kerosene oil and set it on fire. Still others clumsily sought death -by crawling back and forth through barbed-wire fences, en tailing great suffering, until they died from exhaustion, and others drove spikes through their brains. Shoot ing was the most popular method em ployed, with poison a good second. The most unique example was that ol a man who impaled himself on his wooden leg. PPP Tlie Old Woman's Warning:. In 1875 there lived in central Iowa a family by the name of Robinson, consisting of father, mother, and two children, the latter being boys, 9 and 12 years old respetive'y. Robinson was a we'.l-to-do farmer, well thought of by the neighbors, and a Christian man. There was, therefore, no one who questioned the truth of the in cident he related. He had a brother in Des Moines, who was taken very ill and sent for him, and he left home, expecting to be gone a least a week. He had no hired man, but the boys were old enough to care for the stock, and the wife was not a women to bor row trouble. Robinson was in perfect health when he left home, and there was no leason to feel anxious for tho*e he left behind. He reached Des Moines of a Saturday night. His brother was veiy low, but it was believed thrfc the crisis had passed and that he was mending. On Sunday night, at midnight, the watcher who had been at the bedside during the first part of the night called Robinson and retired. The patient was resting easily, and the watcher had only to give him med icine once every hour. lie gave it at 1 o'clock, and filteen minutes later, while he was seemingly as wide awake as ever in his life, a little old woman suddenly entered the room. The sick man was in the parlor bedroom, and the woman came from the sitting room, the door of which stood open. Robinson bowed to her and while somewhat surp:ised at her appear ance, he supposed it was all right, taking her for a neighbor who had come in. She looked to be 55 years old, was very small for a woman, and years afterwards he could describe her dress and features. She stopped in the center of the room, and Robinson tip-toed over to her and said: "The doctor thinks he is much bet- ter." "You must go home," she brusquely remarked in answer. "Whome?" "Yes." "But I came to help take care ol James." "You must be home by 10 o'clock to-morrow night!" said the old wom an. "Why?" She beckoned him further away from the bed. and then whispered: "To-morrow night, before midnight, three bad men will enter your house to rob and murder. You must go home!" "How did you learn this?" he asked, knowing well enough that she would not joke him at such a time, but unable to credit her with all seri ousness. "They have poisoned your dog to night," she answered, "and they are now sleeping in the barn. Theie are two ot them now to-morrow night there will be three. If you love your wife and children do not tarrv here." "Butbut "Gogo'" she commanded, backing out of the* room. "Charles, who is that woman9" asked the sick man, and Robinson turned to the bed and found his brother wide awake. "I do not know." "I saw her in the room just before you came in. She came and leaned over me. She must be a stranger.*' Robinson passed into the sitting room, and from thence into the kitch en, but the woman had disappeared. He called his brother's wife, but she had no such person on her list ot ac quaintances. The doors were all locked and the windows down, and it did not seem possible that she could have left the house, though a thorough search failed to find the least trace of her presence. It was 2 o'clock when the search was abandoned, and at that hour the sick man was amazingly bet ter. He not only declared that he had seen the woman and heard all she said, but he stoutly insisted that his brother should go home as soon as possible. At 10 o'clock in the fore noon Robinson left for home. The nearest railroad point to his farm was seven miles, and. as he had to wait at a junction for several hours, he could not reach his house before 10 o'clock the evening. When he reached the station at which ho must leave the railroad he told his story to the sher iff, and a team was hired and six well-armed men went out with him. It was 10-30 when they reached the house. They approached it across the fieids, and came up just as two men had entered by an open kitch en window, while the third was on guard outside. The trio were speedily captured, and then several points cor roborative of the little old woman's declaration were picked* up. The fam ily dog had died suddenly, with every evidence of having been poisoned. Two tramps had been noticed hang ing about the place the day before, and two of the arrested parties were iden tified as the fellows. They had slept in the barn, and they had been joined by a third. They intended to rob the house and steal a horse and buggy to get away with. In hopes of shortening his term of imprisonment at the ex pense of his comrades one of the trio turned state's evidence. He said it was understood between them that if Mrs. Robinson and the children awoke they were to be killed. Now comes another singular feature of the case. At 11 o'clock of the night on which Robinson reached home the sick man's wife was sitting up with him, and, as he was resting very easy, she fell asleep. The little old woman reappeared, sat down, and said to the patient: "Your brother reached home in time I am glad to see you getting better sc fast." With that she was gone, and noms. of the parties I have been speaking of ever saw her again. People who know the brothers well are firmly convinced that'they saw and heard just what they allege, and those who scoff at the story find it hard to explain why Rob inson started for home as he did, and arrived Justin time to arrest the hard ened fellows, who were promptly sent to state prison.New York Sun. Something for Topers. Philadelphia News.You likely number among,your friends and ac quaintances some hearty old chap who has "taken a drink of nood whisky before breakfast for forty-seven years, and couldn't eat without it." Now at the risk of having this worthy but prejudiced person laugh himself into a state of apoplectic, redfacedness let me suggest that as old as he is, he may yet find a^pibstitutenot only a cheaper one, but one that will never coax him to take more than is good for him. Take any man who is in the habit of looking in the bottom of the glass for "pure sociability" at inter vals from noon until midnight, and for stomach comfort before he bi'eaks his fast in the morning, and let him, after he has arisen and dressed, repair to a drug store instead of a bar-room. He has no appetite. Hs does not feel as though he was "all there." Instead of a cocktail, let him ask the druggist to prepare a mixture of these ingredi ents and quantities, which, when mix ed together, shall constitute a single dose: Chloroform, five drops. Tincture of ginger, half teaspoontul. Compound tincture cardsmen, two teaspoonfuls. Water, one wineglass. Swallow that slowlytake five min utes to do it. You will be surprised to find that in about fifteen minutes the "all gone" feeling will have disap peared. A gentle, pleasant warmth is felt in place of the gnawing sensa tion, and in a very little while there are decided symptoms of being hun gry. A repetition of the dose inside ol an hour, in case the attack the night ffefore was very severe, will do no harm. A cup of black coffee twenty minutes after the first dose is an c\- (ellent thing to follow with, provid id the patitnt is not of a particularly nervous temperament. You will find some men whose nerves become unstrung upon very slight 'ilcoholic provocation and such men are prone to try the similia simihbus i-urantur racket.d Theth pase best thing for a of that kin is drug store again. Here is the dose Bromide of potassium, thirty grains. Celenna, two teaspoonfuls. Elixir valerianate ammonia, two teaspoonfuls. I'll guarantee that you will never resort to whisky again after you have tried whichever of tliese doses which may su't your particular case. As soon as you feel able to eat, make your breakfast of oatmeal principally tor two or hree days. On the da'v a ft.or taking the first dose, invest in two Havana oranges and substitute the juice tor the pick-me up tonic, li the stomach rejects the oranges as too sweet, throw them away and try the tonic again, but eventually letiun to the fruit. This treatment will begin to show its eff'ert in a very few days. Instead of that uneasy, uncomfortable leeling there will cornea vigor and a natur.-tl evhilaiation that will brighten the eye and qnieke'n the step. A brisk walk around the block, it vou live in the brick and mortar stctj0n, will not come amiss. 1 would even go so far as to advise a five minutes' ex^icise with hall-pound dumb bells. Grasp them firmly and strike out as though you intended thumping somebody. All that is needed is laith and a httie perseverance, especially perseverance. The Late Richa rd M. Hoe. New York Letter: The death of the lale Richard M. Hoe calls our fitten tioa to the printing-press factory, which is the best-known establishment on the east side of New York. Every body, indeed, has heard of the Hoe presses, but if the reader were to seek the place of their construction he would find it amid that dense popula tion which fills the vast area between the Bowery and the East river. Ar riving at the spot, one will at once be startled by its immensity. An entire square (at Grand .and Sheriff btieets) i?ii?inj 1^ occupied, and the area is not less than four acres, which in New York 1^ a great deal of land. The offices are larqe, and yet such is the number of clciks and draughtsmen that there is no room to spare and thence yon may pass across the courtyard to'the factoiy itself, where hundreds of ai ti f-ans Ibid employment. Here are built plinths presses that co^t $50,000, and which yield a profit ot from $").- 000 to $10,000 but it is a slow tak, and a* no one else can build them Ii.-jh profits are a natuial result. The Hco establishment is the cnlyf in this city vInch can boa r*"|^r XiiSi''** ^i^-^ sure tp olK-ise. calls fro'ii theme.Uest brain woike:-3 of the nieliopolif. In former days the. -enior Bennett and Moses Y. .Beach and Horace Greeley went thither to in spect machinery, and latterly the present Bennett and Dana, and also Pulitzer, have stood side by side to inspect the latest improvements. This fact alone is enough to give the place distinction. Progress in the manufacture or printing presses was slow to an a toni-hing degree until the opening of the pi csent century. Franklin's press, which is now in the patent office at Washington, is but little hetter than the earliest madewhose date was three centuries previousand the most rapid workmen could not exceed 200 impressions an hour. Inventions were made in England and in Germany, which brought steam into use, this be ing first adopted by the London Times in 1814. Isaac Adams was .at the same time making improvements in this country, but Richard M. Hoe dis tanced the extreme of expectation when he built the fiist rotary cylinder press in 1847. Tbe plan of a revolv ing cylinder had been invented by Nich olson in England many years previ ously, but it was utterly impracticable until remodeled by Hoe. Since then it has been continually improved, un til the present degree of perfection has been attained^ C- *t* J*- THE BESTTOHIC. This m~&< taw combining iron with tegetaMe to lka, mriekly oad nDja*te fares DyS* aleu IndieestlM, Wntbn Impnre Btodft, Uaarui,MUUMiFciTraM and Nenraliifu 11 is n unikilinx remedy Sar Tffmmm tSlbe KMncy* and IiVrr. It is irrraluabl for Disease* feea&aa *D Women, *ijd all who lead sedentary fires. It does mt injure tbelecth, eanse beawtac&fjw produce (obstipationolher JrcwoeO*rmaA. It enriches and porinro the Mftsd,rttonfttige the appet ite. aids the treHimiia&au el food,Be lieves Heartburn and X" hing, sd Jtorxqf&t ens the muscles and DA 13. For Intermittent TeTers, Lassite3e Xt&cff' Energy. i it has eqimj. *3J- '.The genuine kas 1OT traAemarlrsaDC ci oste red lines on ^mrapytr. Tafce IK c&bex. s)iMttris)mei9)!m' KTns.mk 25 YEARS 1 W USE Tb* Greatt Medical Triumph f th* Ag*? SYMPTOMS OF A TORPID LIVER. Less of appetite. Bowels costive^ FaSjtl** the bead, witi n. dnll ncnssitiaik in tavtc feack yort, Fain *mder tfee ttB]A*r blad Fallaoss afterdating wiihaitfc* iaclinatiaa 10 exertfaa Swdjr arsatoftV Irritability cfcccuper, Low spirits, a freliac tea*ins aes lcctek om&sAjve^rfef Wearinesst Dizziness, Flsttcrins sif&m Heart, Dots bofor-etbe eTe*HeAorte over ih rigbc eye, KostisaesM wit!* fitful dieam*. Itixbiy colored CTim raM$ CONSTSPAT.ON. TUTT'S PI &X.S are eapecraSy anSajsioS to soch cases, one dose ette^rs snot* ebangcoflwliiicrnsioiiatonishthfrsiaSfeirrj- Thcy Increase tine A vpttte,ail -xn*ti bodv t-i Take KletU.thiin yricmn t nonriabed,ii fry tbi-iv Tonic Action rcv the llestrrsOrKa*.tieirnIrSrJxv produc.l GHAT HAIR or WHISKZSO change* tb a. GLOSSY BLACK by a single ajj^iifcalaest t} this ITK It imparts a uatozu outer, si'l* instantaneously. Sold by RraggisUi, x*- sent by express cm receiptor 9-t. Office. 44 Murray St., ft*w Yoxk mmmmmmomm The Best Oougb. Core jon. cam iese and the best known preventive of CartsxmfOirmi PARKER'S TONIC kept tn a horwi: a woliel keep sickness out. Used duttftttrtr letp* *"be: blood pure and the Stomach, Liver rod Kithwys in working order. Conghs and Colds nub bit fore tt. It builds up the health. If yon suffer from Debility, Skin JLraptiomt, Cough, Asthma, Dyspepsia^ Kidae-/r'Uriwupfjeir Female Complaints, or any disorder e tint Idaajs, Stomach, Bowels, Blood or Nerves,, dloa't vaol till you are sick in bed, but ose PJUMCKU'S TOMSC to-day it will.rive you rtcw Hf-ramd-wiir. HJSCOX CO., N V* Sold by Druggists, large savins buying $ sk 1.00 0 AGEKTS wii im fWi"L.!BGTg8THStefHra* ramd.H*s0&r ForJOHKB GOCGH'Seoturn^smrttMA.-^SnSfoAShta* tied PICTURES tinted ft'j? JOHN if* 6 PARKER'S HAIR BALSAW the popular broaz ir dtrt**- itie the h*or,Rc*tiwxng?iecote* when gray,and pre ouiling IStant-i draft. It cleanses the sulevi the hxir tailing, ad as stops 50c awl $1. size* t Irufrgttt* JB^ &ou<G etna pa&st'tferaa. s?+m. %af/rw ait U2rci ^xmE^oicn, tcg&ism* wilii cnaarfatii .-TriCT-rpcjd ar taunt rtmmscgrtotg, ornr ZMtnm jmbMsimsL T&et'tieAta'ziMft.tffJMs I-tao M*d vaspentt. vicprilr Ou. JKAIC to JS*.-* ten* of tfco rtumia, t.-Uo r **.*lt\nr for it Ho contpctitfon. and ittonow ^utb^t i-ll .tim ers 10 to 1. JliKiatsa*. Editore. t'nJiew. imc ,gxm HMbebk unqimliiled endorsement and wisls4tOKlpta AOTBflSc, mow yourtlm* l mist tttiui/ ar,Q %tlha Miine bn Vf- tthanwihXf J M Kxrlnave tro-ftory wirrntlmtd Special 1 errs elven.%**. Scst iarg JM-jabntitA containingrlaUruulievIftnt.Cor Artdr*** A_ ION ft CO.. Pvfts., 8 7 SC- Clark BC plac* lieJ*rm-_j\rtdn Jk {&. STSTTUB- NEW 600BS1 mm PRICES Henry J. Ln&oss, Sealer in. DRY GOODS* *'GROCERIES, NOTIONS, ETC. Riesling's Block, &EWULM, MJ2HSL SODA Beat intheWaxUL ,\r wmsm9 V^'*pc kit JHuaur a Ara qmta ijtsnituilrt. A-uutgnAB* wit Kegra] 1E Vv&no*, SMS t*ijtupr nearly T&> ft&* tmA MC Bufwrb SHEW .ags 1