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Center Moriches Record, Issue #1 p7-8

PAGE 7   Previous

Every year over 100,000 persons die of consumption in this country alone. Cherry Pectoral would not have cured all these. Taken in time, it would have cured many.

 A Mr. D. P. Jolly, of Atoca, N.Y., wrote us a few weeks ago, that his mother had old fashioned consumption for years, and was given up to die. She tried Ayer’s Cherry Pectoral. It helped her at once, and she is now completely restored to health.

 We believe Mr. Jolly’s story, because it is one of thousands.

 Three sizes of Ayer’s Cherry Pectoral: 25 cents, 50 cents and $1.00. Buy the most economical size for your case.

 J. C. Ayer’s Company Practical Chemists Lowell, Mass.

 If for any reason, your druggist cannot or does not give you Ayer’s Cherry Pectoral when you call for it, send us one dollar for the large size, and we will deliver it to you, all charges paid.

A Conversation Barred Out
At a term of the Circuit Court in one of the upriver counties not long ago a horse case was on trial and a well known horseman was called as a witness. “Well, sir, you saw this horse?” said the defendant’s counsel. ‘Yes sir, I– “What did you do?” “I jest opened his mouth to find out how old he was an’ I says to him, says I, ‘Old feller, I guess you’re pretty good yet.'” “Stop!” cried the opposing counsel. “Your Honor, I object to any conversation carried on between the witness and the horse when the plaintiff was not present.” The objection was sustained. Rochester Post Express.


 PUTNAM FADELESS DYES do not stain the hands or spot the kettle. Sold by all druggists.

 Queer InsectA curious butterfly exists in India. The male has the left wing yellow and the right one red; the female has these colors reversed.

 The Best Prescription for Chills and fever is a bottle of GROVE’S TASTELESS CHILL TONIC. It is simply iron and quinine in a tasteless form. No cure – no pay. Price 50 cents.

 When it comes to paying bills, a great many people dwell in the land of promise.

 Best for the BowelsNo matter what ails you, headache to a cancer, you will never get well until your bowels are put right. CASCARETS help nature cure you without a gripe or pain, produce easy, natural movements, cost you just 10 cents to start getting your health back. CASCARETS Candy Cathartic, the genuine, put up in metal boxes, every tablet has C.C.C. stamped on it. Beware of imitations.

 Infectious diseases are unknown in Greenland on account of the dry, cold atmosphere.

 Catarrh Cannot Be Cured with local applications, as they cannot reach the seat of the disease. Catarrh is a blood or constitutional disease, and in order to cure it you must take internal remedies. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internally, and acts directly on the blood and mucous surface. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is not a quack medicine. It was prescribed by one of the best physicians in this country for years, and is a regular prescription. It is composed of the best tonics known, combined with the best blood purifiers, acting directly on the mucous surfaces. The perfect combination of the two ingredients is what produces such wonderful results in curing catarrh. Send for testimonials, free. F. J. Cheney & Co. Props., Toledo, O. Sold by druggists, price, 75 cents.

 Hall’s Family Pills are the best.

 Texas has 30,660,772 acres of unimproved land.

 Libby’s Food Products at the Paris Exposition

 The Grand Prix d’Honneur and two gold medals have been awarded by the International Jury of Awards at the Paris Exposition, to Libby, McNeil & Libby, of Chicago, for their purity, excellence and superiority of their Canned Foods. Here in America, the “Libby” Brand has always been recognized as typical of the highest standard of excellence attained in the preservation of Meats, and it is a noticeable fact that the products of Libby, McNeil & Libby have received the highest awards at every Exposition held in the United States during the past two decades.

 New Hampshire’s annual shoe output is $23,000,000.

Winter Tourist Rates South
Winter tourist rates for season 1900-1901, to all tourist points in South and Southwest via Southern Railway, go into effect October 15th, 1900. Full particulars of any agent of that company. This is the route of the New York and Florida Limited and offers on all through trains dining-car service the year round. Address Alex. S. Thweatt, Eastern Pass. Agent, 1185 Broadway, New York.

 A British-American union has been organized in San Francisco.

 Piso’s Cure is the best medicine we ever used for all affections of throat and lungs -Wm. O. Endsley, Vanburen, Ind., Feb. 10, 1900

 In China trades and professions are hereditary in families.

 Dyspepsia is the bane of the human system. Protect yourself against its ravages by the use of Beeman’s Pepsin Gum.

 Printing is said to have been known in China as early as 202 B. C.

 Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup for children teething, softens the gums, reduces inflammation, allays pain, cures wind colic. 25 cents a bottle.

 Few people acquire polish on the grindstone of adversity.

Subject: An Exile from Howe – Perils That Beset the Young Man Seeking Fortune – Dangers and Temptations That Surround Him [Copyright 1900]

Washington, D.C. Dr Talmage staid in London to occupy the famous Wesley pulpit in the City Road chapel, where he preached several times before, always receiving hearty welcome. Thence he went to Ireland, preaching in Belfast and Dublin. The discourse he has sent this week describes the behavior of a young man away from home and suggests practical lessons for people of every age and class. The text is Daniel i, 5, “And the King appointed them a daily provision of the kind’s meat and of the wine, which he drank, so nourishing them three years, that at the end thereof they might stand before the king.”

My text opens the door of a college in Babylon and introduces you to a young student seventeen years of age, Daniel by name. Be not surprised if in the college you find many hilarities. Put a hundred young men together and they are sure to have a good time. There is no harm in that. God does not write out the trees, and the grass, and the blossoms, in dull prose. The old robin does not sit moping in the nest because of the chirpings and the lively adventures of the fledglings that have just begun to fly. Do not come into an orchard looking for winter apples on a May morning.

But Daniel of our text is far from being gay. What oppressive thoughts must have come over him as he remembered that he was a captive in a strange land! The music that came into his study window was not the song of Zion, but the sound of flute, sackbut and dulcimer in the worship of the heathen god. Moreover, he had no hope of ever getting back home again and meeting those who had missed him long and missed him bitterly, wondering if he were still alive and finding many a luxury tasteless because they did not know but Daniel might be lacking bread.

When you and I were in school or college and the vacation approached, we were full of bright anticipation, and we could not study the last night. The lexicon and the philosophical apparatus were transparent, so we could see right through them into the meadows and the orchards. Not so with poor Daniel. He did not know that he should ever escape from captivity, or escaping, he did not know but when he got home the loved ones would be dead and he would go, wandering and weeping, among the sepulchers of his fathers. Besides that, the king tried to make him forget his home and forget his country and for that purpose actually changed his name. the king wanted him to be a prodigy in personal appearance, and so he ordered meat and wine sent from his own table to Daniel, but Daniel refuses all this and puts himself upon the humblest diet, and poorest of all herbs, called pulse, and plain water. His attendants cry out against this and tell him he will perish under such a diet. “No,” he says; “you try us for ten days, and if at the end of that time we are not full cheeked and robust as any it will be surprising.” Ten days pass along, and the students come up for examination, and all declare that none are so ruddy and robust as Daniel and his fellow captives. The days of industrious pupilage and the years pass by, and the day of graduation has come and Daniel gets his diploma, signed by the king, and reading as follows: “In all matters of wisdom and understanding that the king inquired of them he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers that were in all his realm.” And so Daniel took the first honor, and here the story ends, for Daniel the student, hereafter will be Daniel, the prime minister.

The next thought suggested to me by this subject is that young men may be carried into captivity by their enemies. There is a captivity more galling than the one in which Daniel was transported. It is the captivity of evil habit. Men do not go into that wittingly. Slyly and imperceptibly are the chains forged upon them, and one day they wake up to find themselves away down in Babylon. Cyrus afterward consented that some of his captives should return, and 50,000 of them accepted the opportunity. But tell me what evil habit ever consented to let a man go. Ten plagues made Pharaoh consent to the departure of God’s people, but tell me what Pharaoh of evil habit ever cheerfully consented to let any of its victims go. Men talk of evil habits as if they were light and trivial, but they are scorpion whips that tear the flesh; they are spikes more bloody than the path of a Brahman; they are the sepulchers in which millions are burned alive. The young are in more peril because they are unsuspecting. The lions are asleep in their soul, and their power is not suspected. The time when a ship’s company makes mutiny is when the watchman is off his guard. When a spider meets a fly, it does not say, “Go down with me to the place where I murder insects” No; it says, “Come and take a walk with me on this suspension bridge of glittering gossamer.” Oh, there is a difference between the sparkle of a serpent’s eye and the crush of its slimy folds! There is a difference between the bear’s paw toying with a kid and the crackling of the bones in the terrible hug. Pike’s peak looks beautiful in the distance, but ask the starved travelers by the roadside what they think of Pike’s peak. Are there those around whom suspicious companions are gathering? Do their jests and their entertainments make the hours go blithely by when you are with them? Have you taken a sip from their cup of sin or gone with them in one path of unrighteousness? Turn back.

From Babylon they came, and to Babylon they would carry you. If so many plague stricken men would like to enter your companionship before any one is allowed to pass into the intimacy of your heart put them on the severest quarantine.

My subject also impresses me with the fact that early impressions are almost ineffaceable. Daniel had a religious bringing up. From the good meaning of his name I know he had pious parentage. But as soon as he comes into the possession the king, his name is changed, all his surroundings are changed, and now, you say, will begin the demoralization of his character. Before his name was Daniel, which means, “God, my judge;” now his name is to be Belteshazzar, which means, “the treasurer of the god Bel.”

Now you expect to see him overthrown amid all these changed circumstances. Oh, no! Daniel started right and he keeps on right. When I find what Daniel is in Jerusalem I am not surprised to find what he is in Babylon.

I wish that I could write upon all parents’ hearts the fact that early impressions are well nigh ineffaceable. When I see Joseph, a pious lad, in the house of his father, Jacob, I am not surprised to see him acting so nobly down in Egypt.

When I find Samuel, a pious lad, in the house of his mother, Hannah, I am not surprised that he gives a terrible smiting to idolatry as soon as he comes to manhood. David planned the temple at Jerusalem and gathered the materials for its building, but Solomon, the son, came and put up the structure, and that goes on in all ages. The father plans the character of the child and its destiny for time and eternity, then the son completes the structure.

You might as well put down a foundation ten feet by five and expect to rear on it a great cathedral as to put down a contracted character in a child’s soul yet rear upon it something extensively grand and extensively useful!

Let me say to those Christian parents who are doing their best in the education of their children: Take good heart. Your sons this morning may be far away from you and in a distant city, but God, to whom you dedicated them, will look after them. The God of Daniel will take care of them far away in Babylon. “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” He may wander away for awhile and fall into sin and break your heart, but before he is done with his life, you, having committed him to God, he will come back again, for I put the emphasis in the right place and on the word “old” when I repeat that passage and say, “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.”

Are you fond of pictures? Here is one drawn by Solomon: “Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contentions? Who hath babbling? Who hath wounds without cause? They that tarry long at the wine, they that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it moveth itself aright in the cup. At the last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder.”

“Do you know what you are doing?” said a mother who had broken into a restaurant, the door locked against her, her son inside. She came up to the counter and saw the man of the restaurant mingling the intoxicating cup for her own son. She said to the man behind the counter, “Do you know what you are doing?” “No,” said he, “I don’t.” Says she, “You are fattening graveyards.”

I was told at Des Moines of a train of cars going through a very stormy night over one of the western prairies. The young man who was present told us the story. In the night there was a little child in the sleeping car fretful and worrying and crying hour after hour. A man on the opposite side of the car lost his patience and said, “Either make that child shut up or take it to its mother!” Then another man on the opposite side of the sleeping car, a man with a broken heart, pushed back the curtain and looked out and said, “Young man, that child’s mother is dead in the baggage car and the little thing is wailing for her.” Then the man who had committed the affront rose and offered his services for the night and took care of the child until the morning, and all the passengers in the car were broken down with emotion.

Oh, if the cry of a child could arouse so many sympathies, what ought to be the effect of the ten thousand voiced shriek of orphanage and widowhood from the inebriate’s grave! God save this country from the perils of strong drink.

My subject also impresses me with the beauty of youthful character remaining incorrupt away from home. If Daniel had plunged into every wickedness of the city of Babylon the old folks at home would never had heard of it. If he had gone through all the rounds of iniquity, it would have cast no shadow on his early home. There were no telegraphs, there were no railroads. But Daniel knew that God’s eye was on him.

That was enough. There are young men not so good away from home as at home. Frederick tending his father’s sheep among the hills or thrashing rye is different perhaps from Frederick on the Stock Exchange. Instead of the retiring disposition there is a bold effrontery. Instead of an obliging spirit there is perhaps oppressive selfishness.

Instead of the open handed charity there is tight fisted stinginess. Instead of reasonable hours there is midnight revel. I speak to many young men on this matter–you who may have left your father’s house and others who, though still under the parental roof, are looking forward to the time when you will go forth to conflict, alone in this world, with its temptations and its sorrows, and when you will build up your own character. Oh, that the God of Daniel might be with you in Babylon!

I think the most thrilling passage of a young man’s life is when he leaves home to make his fortune. The novelty and the romance of the thing may keep him from any keen sorrow, but the old people who have seen the destruction of so many who have started with high hope cannot help but be anxious. As long as he was in his father’s house his waywardness was kindly chided, and although he sometimes thought the restraint rather bitter and rather severe, in his calmer moments he acknowledged it was salutary and righteous. Through the influence of metropolitan friends, the father has obtained a situation for his son in the city. The comrades of the young man come the night before his departure to bid farewell to the adventurer. The morning of his going away he walks around the place to take a last look at things, perhaps comes upon some object that starts a tear, some old familiar place, but no one sees the tear. The trunk is put upon the wagon, the young man is off for the city. He is set down among excitements and amid associates who are not overcareful about their words and thoughts and actions. Morning comes. No family altar. Sabbath comes. No rural quiet. The sanctuary comes, but all the faces are strange, and no one cares whether he comes to church or does not come. On his way from the store he sees a placard announcing a rare and a vicious amusement. He has no greeting at the door of the boarding house. He has no appetite for the food. No one cares whether he eats or does not eat. Rather he would not eat. It is cheaper. After the tea, he goes into the parlor, takes up a book, finds it dull, no sister to look over it with him. Goes upstairs to his room in the third story, finds it cold and uninviting and in despair he rushes out, caring for nothing but to get something to make him stop thinking. He is caught in the first whirl of sin. He has started out on the dark sea where the gleam of the joy is the flashing of the pit and the laughter is the creaking of the gate of the lost.

Oh, how many graves there are in the country churchyard which, if they could speak, would tell of young men who went off with high hopes and came back blasted and crushed to disgrace the sepulcher of their fathers.

And yet this exodus must go on. As from distant hills the rivers are poured down from tunnels to slake the thirst of our great cities, so from distant country places the streams of incorrupt populations must pour down to purify our great cities. Tomorrow morning on all the thoroughfares, in every steamboat and in every rail car there will be young men going forth to seek their fortunes in our great towns. O Lord God of Daniel, help them to be as faithful in Babylon as they were at Jerusalem! forget not, O my young friend, in the great seaports, the moral and religious principles inculcated by parental solicitude, and if to-day seated in the house of God you would feel the advantage of early Christian culture forget not those to whom you are most indebted and pray God that as old age comes upon them and the shadow of death the hope of heaven may beam through the darkness. God forbid that any of us through our misconduct should bring disgrace upon a father’s name or prove recreant to the love of a mother. The dramatist made no exaggeration when he exclaimed, “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child!” Oh that God would help you as parents and as young people to take to heart the lessons of this important subject, and if we shall learn that there is danger of being carried into captivity and that early impressions are almost ineffaceable and that there is something beautiful in Christian sobriety and that there is great attractiveness in piety away from home, then it will be to you and to me a matter of everlasting congratulations that we considered how Daniel behaved when he became a college student at Babylon.


 Cannibalism is on the decline in the New Hebrides.

The Mysterious Drummer; Where, Oh Where, Was He?
Who heard the ghostly drummer of Cortachy Castle beat the death- roll of the late Earl of Arlie?

His spectral tattoo is ever the herald of death to the heads of the Ogilveys. In by- gone times there was a drummer who drummed for “the bonny house of Airlie.” The wretched player offended the earl of those days and was tied up in his own drum and flung from a high tower. After vainly pleading for his life the poor little drummer threatened that his ghost would haunt the family for ever and ever.

Legend has it that generation after generation the dead drummer has sounded the last post for Earl and Countess of Arlie, and the roll of his drums has through the long centuries blanched the faces of many inmates of Cortachy Castle.

In 1845 a visitor at Cortachy was dressing for dinner. A tattoo was beaten beneath her window. The lady listened in surprise, for as far as she knew there was no bandsman at that castle. Going down to dinner she said to her host: “Who is that that plays the drum so skillfully outside the castle?”

The earl turned pale and shivered. The countess could not hide her fear. The face of every Ogilvie at the table was deadly white. Within a week the countess lay in her shroud. The drummer boy was the spectre of Cortachy Castle.

A few years later a young Englishman who was to shoot with Lord Ogilvey, the eldest son at Tulchan, a shooting lodge at the head of Glenshee, missed his way. The night was wild and darkness had long set in before he saw the lights of the shooting lodge. Then up the glen came the long roll of the drum. There could be no mistaking it. Who could be playing out of doors on such a night, he asked Lord Ogilvey. “Silence,” was his only answer. It was the dead drummer of Cortachy Castle. the Earl of Arlie died in London in less than a week.

When the father of the Earl of Airlie who fell in South Africa died, it is said that the drummer did not sound his drum. It may be true. Perhaps he has not beaten it on this occasion. But the countryside will not be denied their ghost, and it may be that we shall soon hear that the spectral drum was heard at Cortachy the day before the gallant cavalryman fell in South Africa. London Mail.

The Happy Side in Fiction

Mr. Marcus Stone has opened up a subject, which, were our silly season not so packed with wars and rumors of wars, might well provide the public with a theme whereon to moralize in print. Talking to an interviewer for the benefit of the “Young Man,”

Mr. Stone declared that both in literature and art it is easier to picture sorrow than joy. According to Mr. Stone, much of our modern realism, with its depressing morbidity and its gloomy philosophy, is due solely to the ease wherewith it can be produced,. “I have only to paint a coffin on a trestle in an empty room,” says the artist, and I cannot help impressing somebody. The read difficulty is to paint the bright and happy side of life, to give the world mirth and refreshment. We are inclined to agree with Mr. Stone. The average reader of books, at any rate, prefers the book that makes him happy to that which closes in sorrow. In tragedy, of course, there must be sorrow, but is not the pitiful, sordid sorrow which modern novelists affect, it is sublime, as in “Lear”. We can enjoy Lamb’s mockery of Tate for putting his hook in the nostrils of this Leviathan; for Garrick to attract playgoers with a happy ending; but we could wish, nevertheless, that modern novelists would realize their own limitations, and give mankind in place of cheap pathos and cynical philosophy, books that breathe the joy of existence, picture the cheerful side of life, and end happily. – London Globe.

 Gladstone’s Astuteness One day Mr. Gladstone, who had just then turned twenty, was stopped on a street by a man minus a leg, who solicited alms and averred that he had been wounded at Waterloo.

Inquiring the number of the fellow’s regiment, Mr. Gladstone then submitted him to a smart cross-examination concerning its position in the great battle, and the would-be ex-warrior broke down entirely. He admitted he was a complete fraud, and owned that he had lost a leg by being run over by a wagon. He further volunteered the intelligence that he was intoxicated at the time. But, noticing that Mr. Gladstone seemed more amused than otherwise, the vagrant whined: “Sir, if you had only a lost leg to get a living out of you’d be inclined, I fancy, to make as much out of it as you could. I told the truth till I was starved, then I got onto the battle of Waterloo lay, and it pays much better. Thank heaven, young gentleman, all folks are not so mightily smart as you are, and most of ’em believes me!” The young Oxford undergraduate, as he was then, was so tickled with the candor of the imposter that he gave him a shilling. Household Words.

 The Height of Diplomacy If a woman is mad a man will find that a wet cloth on his head and a groan are cheaper than a present to soften her anger. – Atchison Globe


 A horse will live twenty-five days without solid food, merely drinking water. A bear will go for six months,while a viper can exist for ten months without food. A serpent in confinement has been known to refuse food for twenty-one months.


 During the French army manoeuvers, motor-cars are to be tried out for the purposes of rapid transport.


 Berlin last year for the first time registered over 1,000,000 strangers, who had visited the city.


Owing to modern methods of living, not one woman in a thousand approaches this perfectly natural change without experiencing a train of very annoying, and sometimes painful symptoms.

Those dreadful hot flashes, sending the blood surging to the heart until it seems ready to burst, and the faint feeling that follows, sometimes with chills, as if the heart were going to stop for good, are only a few of the symptoms of a dangerous nervous trouble. The nerves are crying out for assistance. The cry should be heeded in time. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound was prepared to meet the needs of woman’s system at this trying time of her life.

The three following letters are guaranteed to be genuine and true, and still prove what a great medicine Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound is for women.


March 12, 1897
“Dear Mrs. Pinkham: I have been sick for a long time. I was taken sick with flooding. All of my trouble seemed to be in the womb. I ache all the time at the lower part of the womb. The doctor says the womb is covered with ulcers. I suffer with pain on the left side of my back over the kidney. I am fifty years old and passing through the change of life. Please advise me what to do to get relief. Would like to hear from you as soon as possible. Mrs. Charlotte Johnson, Monclova, Ohio.

Jan. 23, 1898
“I have been taking your remedies, and think they have helped me a great deal. I had been in bed for ten weeks when I began taking your Vegetable Compound, but after using it for a short time I was able to be up around the house. The aching in the lower part of the womb has left me. The most that troubles me now is the flowing. That is not so bad, but still there is a little every day. I am not discouraged yet, and shall continue with your medicine, for I believe it will cure me. Mrs. Charlotte Johnson, Monclova, Ohio.

Apr. 13, 1900
“I send this letter to publish for the benefit of others. I was sick for about nine years so that I could not do my work. For three months I could not sit up long enough to have my bed made. I had five different doctors and all said there was no hope for me. My trouble was change of life. I suffered with ulceration of the womb, pain in sides, kidney and stomach trouble, backache, headache and dizziness. I am well and strong and feel like a new person. My recovery is a perfect surprise to everybody that knew me. I owe all to Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. I would not do without your medicine for anything. there is no need of women sufferig so much if they would take your remedies, for they are a sure cure. Mrs. Charlotte Johnson, Monclova, Ohio.

When one stops to think about the good Mrs. Johnson derived from Mrs. Pinkham’s advice and medicine, it seems beyond belief; yet it is all true as stated in her three letters published above at her own request. As a matter of positive fact Mrs. Pinkham has on file thousands of letters from women who have been safely carried through that danger period “Change of Life”; Mrs. Johnson’s cure is not an unusual one for Mrs.Pinkham’s medicine to accomplish.

$5000 REWARD. We have deposited with the National City Bank of Lynn, $5000, which will be paid to any person who can find that the above testimonial letters are not genuine, or were published before obtaining the writer’s permission. LYDIA E. PINKHAM MEDICINE CO.

Frey's Vermifuge advertisements
Frey’s Vermifuge is the same good, old-fashioned medicine that has saved the lives of little children for the past 60 years. It is a medicine made to cure. It has never been known to fail. Letters like the foregoing are coming to us constantly from all parts of the country. If your child is sick, get a bottle of Frey’s Vermifuge, a fine tonic for children. Do not take a substitute. If your druggist does not keep it, send 25 cents in stamps to F.& S. Frey, Baltimore, Md., and a bottle will be mailed to you. LIBBY’S MINCE MEAT In our mammoth kitchen we employ a chef who is an expert in making mince pies. He is in charge of making all of Libby’s Mince Meat. We don’t practice economy here. He uses the choicest materials. He is told to make the best mince meat ever sold — and he does. Get a package at your grocer’s — enough for two large pies. You’ll never use another kind again. LIBBY, McNEILL & LIBBY Chicago Write for our booklet, “How to Make Good Things to Eat”.

$3.00 W. L. Douglas Shoes Union Made $3.50 Ifyou have been paying $4 to $5 for shoes, a trial of W. L. Douglas $3 or $3.50 shoes will convince you that they are just as good in every way and cost from $1 to $1.50 less. Over 1,000,000 wearers. One pair of W. L. Douglas $3 or $3.50 shoes will positively outwear two pairs of ordinary $3 or $3.50 shoes. We use fast color eyelets. Factory, Brockton, Mass. Best $3 shoe. Best $3.50 shoe. The reputation of W. L. Douglas $3.00 and $3.50 shoes for style, comfort and wear is known everywhere throughout the world. They have to give better satisfaction than other makes because the standard has always been placed so high that the wearers expect more for their money than they can get elsewhere. THE REASON more W. L. Douglas $3 and $3.50 shoes are sold than any other make is because THEY ARE THE BEST. Your dealer should keep them; we give one dealer exclusive sale in each town. TAKE NO SUBSTITUTE! Insist on having W. L. Douglas shoes with name and price stamped on bottom. If your dealer will not get them for you, send direct to factory, enclosing price and 25 cents extra for carriage. State kind of leather, size and width, plain or cap toe. Our shoes will reach you anywhere. Catalogue Free. W. L. Douglas Shoe Co. Brockton, Mass.

Dr. Bull’s Cough Syrup Safest, surest cure for all throat and lung troubles. People praise it. Doctors prescribe it. Quick, sure results. Refuse substitutes. Get Dr. Bull’s Cough Syrup.

PISO’S CURE FOR CONSUMPTION 24 cents Cures Where All Else Fails Best Cough Syrup. Tastes Good. Use in time. Sold by druggists.

If afflicted with sore eyes, use Thompson’s Eye Water

DROPSY New Discovery; gives quick relief and cures worst cases. Book of testimonials and 10 Days treatment FREE. Dr. M.H. Green’s Sons, Box B, Atlanta, Ga.



In the quality and quantity of her cycle paths Suffolk County is excelled by no county in the state and probably none in the Union. Going east along the south shore one enters the county at Amityville, and from that point to Amagansett, the most eastern village on the island, there is a continuous path, two or three short gaps excepted, the largest being between Quogue and Good Ground, and Good Ground and Canoe Place. In places these paths are narrow and rough, but it is only for a brief space. As a rule they form a wide, smooth, level highway for the silent steed. The distance by rail between the two places named is seventy-three miles, by the paths it would probably be five miles more.

If the visitor should wish to return by the north shore, he will find a path just cut from the village of East Hampton west toward Sag Harbor for about two miles. From this point until he reaches Sag Harbor – five miles – he must use the turnpike, which is soft in places. There is a good path through Sag Harbor village. To reach Greenport from Sag Harbor, he must cross North Haven, and here there is a good broad path four miles to South Ferry. After crossing that ferry one finds a path four miles long, a little hilly and rough, crossing Shelter Island northwest to the North Ferry, which gives access to Greenport. From Greenport to Riverhead, twenty-two miles, there is a beautiful path, the best in the county. From Riverhead to Port Jefferson, twenty-three miles, there is a serious hiatus. For three miles out of the former town there is a good path along the river bank, but after that, until within a mile of Wading River, ten miles from Riverhead, one must take to the road. Next comes a mile of good path in Wading River village and then one must take the road again until Miller’s Place, eight miles farther on, and six from Port Jefferson, is reached, whence there is a good path to the latter place.

There is an almost continuous path from Port Jefferson to Smithtown, twelve miles, but from there to Cold Spring Harbor, fourteen miles, there one meets the macadam roads of Nassau County, there is another break. It does not make any difference whether one takes the road by Comac or the more northerly route by King’s Park and East Northport, there is only the country road by either.

In Northport village and in Huntington are good paths, notably one from Huntington station to Huntington village, and from the village to the sound shore. But one cannot help feeling that the commissioners have neglected the western end of the county, at least on the north shore.

Of cross paths there are several; first beginning on the east from Sag Harbor to Bridgehampton, four and one-half miles, along the old Bull’s Head turnpike; second, from Riverhead to Quogue, six miles through the woods; third, from Riverhead to West Hampton, eight miles, also through the oak forest; fourth, from Port Jefferson to Patchogue, fourteen miles, also direct across country; fifth, from Smithtown to Bay Shore via Hauppague and Brentwood, some ten miles. There is also a path from Lake Ronkonkoma, that intersects the latter, some four miles long. There is a path, too, from Smithtown village to Lake Ronkonkoma, four miles, and a number of minor paths not mentioned here, but the above include those of the most importance. Altogether there are probably five hundred miles of cycle paths in the county.

As to the manner of laying out these paths and the methods of defraying the costs some misapprehension exists in the public mind which it is proper to remove. The act of March 27, 1899, provided for a sidepath commission for each county, except Albany and Monroe, on petition of fifty resident wheelmen, to serve without pay and to be appointed by the county judge. These commissioners, desiring to lay out a path along a certain road, apply to the highway commissioners for permission, and this being granted, proceed to construct this path, the cost being met by a tax not to exceed $1 a year levied on each wheelman using it. In Suffolk County this tax is 50 cents a year. Metal tags are provided which are fixed on the left front fork of the wheel, and anyone caught riding on the paths without a tag is liable to a fine of from $5 to $25, at the discretion of the magistrate.

This tax seems reasonable enough, yet so many rode on the paths without a license that the commissioners found it necessary to employ special policemen to patrol the paths on heels and to arrest delinquents, who, when caught, were generally allowed to go on the purchase of a tag. The greatest complaint of the tax comes from residents of other counties just over the line, who wish to ride on the paths for one day only, or for a short distance, and who argue that it is unjust to tax them as much as though they were using the paths for a year. A little reflection, however, would convince these riders that they are not compelled to use the paths; the road is free to them, and the road would be all that would be available were it not for the sidepath law and the tax it provides for levying.

The names of the commissioners for Suffolk County are Henry H. Preston of Shelter Island Heights, chairman; Edwin D. Fishel of Riverhead, treasurer; William B. Hedges of East Patchogue, Samuel A. Higbie of Babylon, A. B. Gildersleeve of Huntington, William R. Reinman of Sag Harbor, Jesse H. Davis of Port Jefferson is secretary. – Eagle

An Acrobatic Spider
A curious instance of the ability of an insect to successfully measure distance was evidenced once while I was traveling through northern Argentina.

I first made the acquaintance of my friend on the back veranda of a little village tavern. I was lying in a hammock. About two feet from me was a 3 by 3 inch handrail of wood, supported by wooden balusters. As I lay there I noticed a fly alight on top of the wood. While I watched him the fly apparently turned into a spider. I could not believe my eyes, but on closer inspection I saw that the spider jumped from somewhere and landed on top of my fly.

I thought this worth watching and found that this was his method of procedure: A fly would alight on top of the railing, the spider would take in the distance at a glance and would disappear down the side of the rail, walk along toward the fly, but out of sight, until he reached a place on the side of the rail at right angles to the position of the fly when he last saw it. Then he would walk nearly to the top of the rail and fasten his web, then walk down, paying out his web as he went till he was as far from the place where he had fastened his web as was the fly, then on vigorous leap, the web swinging him around in an arc of a circle, and he would alight on top of the fly.

I have never seen one miss this seemingly difficult leap, except when the fly left his position before the spider had finished his preliminaries. E. A. Suverkrop in Scientific American.

Black Sea Peculiarities
The Black sea has peculiarities which distinguish it from the Mediterranean, Atlantic or Pacific. The greatest ascertained depth is 1,200 fathoms. A surface current flows continually from the Black sea into the Mediterranean through the Bosporus and Dardenells and an undercurrent of salt water from the Mediterranean into the Black sea. This undercurrent of water is warm and sinks to the bottom and in consequence of its great density prevents vertical circulation. The result is that these deeper waters are rendered stagnant. They are saturated with sulfuretted hydrogen, and consequently, life is impossible. In an expedition in which Sir John Murray took part the water brought up by means of a water bottle from a depth of 300 fathoms smelled exactly like rotten eggs. No life therefore is possible in the Black sea beyond a depth of 100 fathoms, which is a striking contrast to what happens in the open ocean, where there is an abundance of animal life at that depth. This brings about another extraordinary condition with reference to the deposits – that in all the deeper deposits there is an abundant chemical precipitate of carbonate of lime, a condition not obtaining, as far as is known, in any other ocean.

Rotten Fish as Food
One of the national delicacies of northern Russia is “tresca”, an appalling dish, consisting of codfish caught the previous summer and eaten in an advanced stage of decomposition. Its odor alone is beyond words, its taste the writer fortunately does not know. It is difficult to stay long in the room with it, and yet it is preferred to fresh meat or fish, both of which are cheap and easily obtainable in most villages and obviate the trouble of drying and rotting, which dried tresca implies.

“The poor”, says Chancelour, “are very innumerable and live most miserably, for I have seen them eat the pickle of herring and other very stinking fish. Nor the fish cannot be so rotten but they will eat it and extol it to be more wholesome than other fish or fresh meates. In mine opinion there is no such people under the sunne for their hardness of liveing.” – Gentleman’s Magazine.

The Mystery of Radium
The substance called radium emits radiations resembling the X rays without the application of work or energy from external sources and without appreciable loss of weight. This seems to be inconsistent with the law of the conservation of energy, but the mystery is explained by the calculations of M. Becquerel, which show that a loss of weight so infinitesimal that in a thousand million years it would amount to no more than a milligram would suffice to account for the observed effects. According to this explanation the emanations from radium consist of material particles. But how infinitely minute must those particles be!

Experience Versus Theory
“Marcus Aurelius says” the professor began, “that nothing happens to anybody which he is not fitted by nature to bear.”

“Oh that’s rot” replied the man who had eloped at the age of 21 with a girl whom he had known three weeks. “Just tell Marc for me that he has another guess coming.” – Chicago Times-Herald.

A Candid Opinion
An old servant was asked by an artist what she thought of her master’s portrait, which he was painting. She looked at it critically, “Ye might have made him a trifle better looking, may be, but if ye had ye’d ha’ spoilt it.” – Pick-Me-Up.

Candidates for the Governorship of Various States.
The Men Nominated by Republicans and Democrats in Massachusetts and Minnesota – Warm Contest in Delaware

The political campaigns in various states show signs of exceptional animation, and some of the gubernatorial candidates are men of unusual interest.

The Republicans of the staid old commonwealth of Massachusetts, ever adverse to change, have signified their faith in the present governor, Winthrop Murray Crane, by renominating him. Mr. Crane’s career possesses several features of peculiar interest. He was born to great wealth, and yet entered the paper mills of his father at the age of 17 as a ragpicker in order to learn the business thoroughly. Of course he is not a college man. Mr. Crane’s family has been identified with the paper making business for more than a century and have manufactured the government bond paper for 20 years. Mr. Crane is 47 years of age, a widower, and has one son. He served as lieutenant governor before his elevation to the executive chair.

Robert Treat Paine Jr

Mr. Crane’s opponent, Robert Treat Paine, Jr., is a very young man to have aspirations for the governorship of the old Bay state, for his years number only 34. But, if his personal history is short, that of his family is long, for among his ancestry are numbered almost all of the Mayflower’s passengers. One of his ancestors signed the Declaration of Independence. Mr. Paine is exceedingly rich, for his father, after inheriting and marrying wealth, made millions on his own hook. The young candidate is an ernest supporter of Democracy and was the unsuccessful candidate for the governorship last year. His renomination speaks much for the estimation in which he is personally held. Mr. Paine, like all his family, is a Harvard man. Notwithstanding his wealth and social connections, he served as a private in the Spanish-American war.

Winthrop M Crane

Turning to a western state, we come across two interesting personalities.John Lind, Democratic candidate for re-election to the governorship of Minnesota, is truly a self-made man. He was born in Sweden of poor parents in 1854 and came with them to this country when a mere child. While working to support his family the young Swedish-American lost his left arm. His physical disability turned his mind to study, and after serving as a school-teacher, he was admitted to the bar at 22. He held various public offices and served three terms in congress and became in 1898 the first Democratic governor of Minnesota.

John Lind
Samuel R. Van Sant

Captain Samuel R. Van Sant, the Republican opponent of Governor Lind, is known to his friends as “Captain Sam”. Thecaptain served his country in the civil war, although, owing to the fact that he was only 17 years old in 1861, he had to try several times before he could be enlisted. After the war he went to college, and then entered business with his father. Captain Van Sant is extensively engaged in the shipping business on the Mississippi. He is a man of great popularity and prominence in his state and has held various political offices besides that of state commander of the G.

Peter J. Ford

The state of Delaware has on hand a political contest altogether disproportionate in warmth to the size of the little Diamond state. Both parties are making a vigorous fight and have named popular men. Peter J. Ford (left), the Democratic candidate, hails from Wilmington. He is about 45 years of age, and a self made man, having gained a large fortune as a contractor and leather manufacturer. He has long been interested in politics, but has never held office. The Delaware Republicans have patched up their factional differences and united upon John Hunn (right), a middle aged citizen of Wyoning, Del. as their candidate.

John Hunn

The little boy just in from school was complaining to Aunt Matilda of being compelled to do just as the teacher said, never, he declared, being permitted to do as he wished. The old woman paused for a moment in her work and then said: “S’pose, chile, dat yo’ was a slave, like de leetle gray bird dat I has in mind. What would yo’ do den?”

The little boy said that he had never heard of the little gray bird, well knowing that the old woman would promptly tell him all about it. “Dat is, chile,” she explained, “I’ll tell yo’ it as Mr. Wizzle Wuzzle done tole it to me. Mr. Wizzle Wuzzle say dat long time ago de law among de birds was dat de one dat couldn’t sing had to be a slave. De leetle gray bird was one of dem dat couldn’t sing, having no mo’ voice, honey, den ole Miss Possum, ’cause he was tongue tied. So it was dat he come to be de slave of Mr. Sparrow. It was a scan’lous shame to make him a slave, for dere was no mo’ better bred bird flying den de leetle gray bird, but as he couldn’t sing, why, dere wasn’t nothing else for him to do. So it was dat he had to help Mr. Sparrow ’bout de house, bring water from de spring, nu’s’ de chil’ren, build de fire an do de cookin, an-“

“Why, Aunt Matilda,” interrupted the little boy, “you surely don’t mean to say that the birds had fires and cooked their food?”

“Now, chile,” the old woman explained, “I’s telling dis story as Mr. Wizzle Wuzzle done tole it to me. He say dat de leetle gray bird had to build de fire and do de cooking, and I isn’t de one dats gwine to say to de contraywise. Howsomever, w’le de leetle gray bird was working hard doin dis and doin dat all de day long, his marster, Mr. Sparrow, set hisself up on de lim’ of a tree an sing an sing. Course, while de leetle gray bird be a slave, he got a soul an understandin, an as he work all de day long he lissen and lissen to de song Mr. Sparrow sing ’til by an by he get de whole of it in his head, an den when dere wasn’t nobody ’bout, he try to sing hisself. But he still tongue tied, an not a note could de pore leetle fellow make. So he cried hisself sick, an say, ‘Oh, if my tongue was only ontied!”

“And did the little gray bird’s tongueever get untied, Aunt Matilda?” asked the little boy.

“I hasn’t got to dat, yit, chile,” she replied, “but I knows dat one day when Mrs. Sparrow was wishin for a big fat worm for one of de chil’ren dat was ailing Mr. Robin came ‘long wid one, an Mr. Sparrow sell de leetle gray bird to Mr. Robin for it. Mr. Robin carry de leetle gray bird home wid him and sot him to work jes’ as hard as he was ‘bliged to do at Mr. Sparrow’s house.

“But Mr. Robin” continued the old woman, “didn’t keep de leetle gray bird long, for de doctor havin purscribed a bunch of cherries for Mrs. Robin, who at dat time wasn’t in de best of health, Mr. Robin sell him to Mr. Lark,who happened ‘long wid a bunch of ’em jes’ den. Wid Mr. Lark it was de same t’ing, so far as de leetle gray bird was consarned, till one day when Mrs. Lark allowed dat she jes’ hed to have a hoppergrass for dinner, Mr. Lark see Mr. Catbird wid one, an he sell de leetle gray bird to Mr. Catbird for it. Mr. Catbird keep him for awhile, an den he sell him to Mr. Whipperwill, an Mr.Whipperwill he sell him to Mr. Woodpecker, an he keep on being sold till at las’ Mr. Sparrowhawk buy him.

“Now, Mr. Sparrowhawk, explained Aunt Matilda, “was a mighty hard marster, so Mr. Wizzle Wuzzle tells me, wid a mighty sharp tongue and a mightly sharper bill and claws. One night Mr. Sparrowhawk came in a turrible temper, an nuttin’ didn’t suit him, do de leetle gray bird try his bes’ to please him. But Mr. Sparrowhawk git madder and madder at him till at las’ he jes’ pitch right into him and peck and claw him like he gwine to kill him. De leetle gray bird open his mouth to beg for mercy, and Mr. Sparrowhawk in peckin at him done bite de pore leetle fellow’s tongue so dat he nearly split it open, an de pore leetle gray bird drap down for dead

“Mr. Sparrowhawk think he done kilt him, an off he fly. By an by de leetle gray bird come to. an a-seeindat his mouth was all a-bleedin he hop down to de spring to wash it. He dip up some water in his mouth and gurgle it round and round, but as he do dat he hear a pureculiar sound come from his throat, jes’ like a young bird tryin to sing. He git up some mo’ water in his mouth an gurgle dat round and round, an de same pureculiar sound he hear agin. Well, chile, he dat ‘sprised dat he almos’ fall down, but he try it agin an agin, an de mo’ he do it de clearer de sound come, an lo an behol’, chile, de fust dat leetle gray bird know he was singing as fine as yo’ want to hear.Fust it was de song Mr. Sparrow done sung, den it was de one Mr. Lark hed sung an den dat of Mr. Robin, till at las’, so Mr. Wizzle Wuzle done tell me, dat pore leetle gray bird was sittin an whistlin all de songs marsters don sung an a good many mo’ yit.”

“What became of the little gray bird, Aunt Matilda” asked the little boy as the old woman paused.

“Well, chile,” she replied, “dat leetle gray bird jus’ sing an sing till he hed all de birds round ’bout him lissenin to him, an when dey sing, he sing der songs, don’t care who dey was, an all of ’em so s’rprised dat dey couldn’t hardly believe der eyes, much less dere ears. Jes’ den Mr. Sparrowhawk come flyin up, an what he do but try to take de leetle gray bird home wid him, havin in mind dat he worth much mo’ den ever befo’ ’cause of his singin an seein dat he not only sing de song of any udder bird, but kin mock anyt’ing he hear. But jes’ den ole Jedge Owl come ‘long, an when he find out what Mr. Sparrowhawk trying to do ole Jedge Owl say: ‘No, indeedy, Brother Sparrowhawk. Dat leetle gray bird ain’t a slave no mo’, for de law say dat no bird what kin sing kin be no slave.’ ‘Dat’s a fae’, Brother Sparrowhawk,’ say de rest of de birds; ‘he sin’t a slave no mo.”

“An from dat dey to dis, chile, “concluded Aunt Matilda, “dat leetle gray bird been as free as de berry air itself an de finest an de puttiest singer dat flies.”

“But what was the name of the little gray bird, Aunt Matilda?" asked the little boy as the old woman concluded her story.

“For de law’s sake, chile, “she answered, “did I furgit to tell yo’ dat de leetle gray bird ain’t nobody else den Mr. Mockingbird?” – Chicago Evening Post.

“But,” I said after he had finished his tale of woe,” the puzzle to me is why you have proposed to the girl at all.”

“I have not proposed. It happened at the ball last night. I was late and I was idly leaning against the wall, looking among the dancers for – well – you know, Tom, for whom I was looking. I had been standing in that attitude quite ten minutes, when I suddenly caught sight of a girl at the far end of the room. She had her back to me and was wearing a shimmering kind of white dress, with – with – roses and things embroidered on it; but anyhow there was not another frock in the room like it, and directly I caught sight of it I hurried after the wearer and came up to her just as she was entering the conservatory.

“Well, the conservatory was rather dark, and I was rather excited, having been determined all week that I would screw up my courage and ‘speak’ on the ball night. So before I knew where I was, I said something – I don’t know what, but something sweet – then all in a minute she – she – well, the upshot of it was she accepted me, and I found out when it was too late that I had proposed to the wrong one.”

“Cannot you see a way out of it, for if you can’t, I can” I added sagely.

“But how?” he interrupted eagerly.

“Easily enough;” I said with a philosophic air. “Just send a note to Miss Hedley, asking her to meet you, and then tell her in a manly, straightforward fashion that – that – ahem, you have made a mistake, that your young affections have been bestowed elsewhere, that you have respect, admire and esteem her, but your heart is in another’s, etc.”

“Would you tell a girl anything like that, Tom?” he asked, looking steadily at me.

“I’m sure I would,” I answered confidently. “I think it is more dishonorable to marry a woman when you don’t love her than it would be to tell her fairly that you cannot marry her because you don’t love her.”

“Maggie,” I asked my sister the following day,” whatever possessed you to lend your new ball dress to Miss Hedley? I mean that odd looking, whity thing that you told Nigel Bruce that you were going to wear.”

Maggie colored hotly, and I knew my shot had gone home.

“Oh, Tom,” she replied, ignoring the latter part of my remark. “I made Flossie wear it. She said ‘No’ ever so many times, but I insisted. So in the end she yielded. Poor Flossie,” my sister continued. “She has not many pleasures and very few pretty dresses, and you know what a horrid time of it she has with her auntie, so I was determined she should go to the ball and be well dressed, too. Mother was quite willing. But what makes you ask?” she added.

“Oh, nothing much,” I replied carelessly, for I was determined not to tell her of Bruce’s engagement until – well, until I was sure it was an engagement.

That same evening I had a line from Bruce. “Be at my chambers at 8:30 tonight.”

So I went and found him in the depth of despair. I must have looked one huge note of interrogation, for he began at once. “It is no use, old chap! She – she says I have discovered her secret, and she would die of shame if I deserted her now. Moreover, she wrote last night to her father – and – Can’t you see, Tom, that I am bound hand and foot and cannot withdraw?”

“And what happened then?” I interrupted.

Bruce looked confused. “Then? oh, she cried, and…”

“I know all about the rest,” I exclaimed scornfully. “Nigel Bruce, you are an arrant donkey and far too good to be wasted on a bold, unscrupulous, scheming woman! You shan’t marry her. Hold!” I said, suddenly stopping in the midst of my sentence. “I’ve thought of a plan to rescue you! I’ll tell you what it is, old fellow – I’ll go in for the fair lady myself and cut you out! If I, a much wealthier man than you, appear as a possible suitor, I am much mistaken in the maiden if she does not throw you overboard.”

Well, the rest is soon told. I began paying Miss Hedley marked attention – so much attention that my motherand sister showed symptoms of uneasiness.

One day Maggie came to me looking rather agitated.

“Is it true, Tom, that you are going to take Flossie to the theater tonight? She has just been telling me so.”

“It is quite true,” I replied.

“But Tom,” she urged, “do you think it is right? What would Mr. Bruce think if he knew?”

“Look here, Maggie,” I answered sententiously, “don’t you bother your pretty head about my affairs. I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

Well, on the night of the theater I suppose my attentions showed such a marked inclination to become “intentions” that the following afternoon Bruce received a charmingly worded little note giving him his conge. Directly I saw his radiant face I knew what had happened.

“It’s all very well for you,” I said, “but how must I get out of it?”

“Oh, tell her fairly and squarely that you respect, admire and esteem her, but your heart is in another’s, etc.”

And then he looked at me in the face, meaningly, and we both burst out laughing.

It was in that period of my career I discovered that it was very easy to give advice but very hard to follow. The end of it was that my lawyer settled this matter in an entirely satisfactory manner to all concerned.

Only to this day Maggie, who was married to Nigel last Christmas, declares we were both wrong to carry out such a mean plot. She also says that if she had known of it she would never have consented to become Mrs. Bruce.

[Editor’s note: Conge= a formal permission to depart]

A New Cure
The Buffalo Commercial says that a little boy came home one day soon after the fall term of school had opened with the following note duly signed by the principal:

Mr. Judkins:
Dear Sir – It became my duty to inform you that your son shows decided indications of astigmatism, and his case is one that should be attended to without delay.

The father sent the following answer the next day:

Mr. Kenshaw:
Dear Sir – Whip it out of him. Yours truly,
Hiram Judkins.

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