Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, February 13, 1897, Page 2

BY MAURICE HA. HERVEY CHAPTER XIX. In the Jaws of Death. For several days the trial and con- viction of Richard Somerville formed a fruitful theme for comments in the press and for gossip at street corners, and ,as usual, opinions soon differed to the actual guilt of the capital crime, and as to the proba- bilities that the extreme penalty of the law would be carried into effect. His lawyers worked with untiring energy on his behalf. They caused a graphic- ally. cecount of the condemned man’s own version of what had oc- curred to be circulated by tens of thou- sands, and canvassed far and wide for signatures to petitions for a reprieve. His unfortunate wife, almost beside herself with grief and despair, haunted the home office for orders to visit him at his cell, and with tear- stained appeals that his life might be spared. But time slipped relenth by, the judge who had tried the made no sign, there had been no rec- ommendation to mercy by the jury; and at length it became known that the home secretary had definitely de- clined to interfere. Finally, the Satur- day papers announced that the execu- tion had been fixed to take place upon the following Wednesday. Some: le had spent the interval of suspense with characteristic coolness, devoting his time almost entirely to completing a monograph opon hypnot- ism. A thorough fatalist, he never al- lowed those whose duty it was to watch him night and day to discern the smallest anxiety on his part his future fate. A few former friends had visited him, and with them he had talked freely upon all subjects, except the all-(important one of his own loom- What Is This, A Beard? amg end. He heard the announcement ef the date of his execution quite im- passively, merely declining to receive any further visits except from his wife. She, poor soul, spent ev hour with him that the gaol regulati stretched to the utmost in her favor, would al- low. And thus, the few remaining hours of married life, between this ill- assorted couple, drew swiftly towards a term. A condemned felon is never allowed to be alone. Warders, relieved at fre- quent intervals, share his cell day and might. But he would indeed be a stern guardian who would strain his ears to overhear the confidences exchanged be- tween man and wife; and, as Mrs. Som- erville spoke French well, the two could converse with almost perfect freedom. The one point upon which the warders were especially vigilant was that their hands should never Suicide was the eventuality y chiefly had to guard against. And was precisely what Somerville this had made up his mind to accomplish, at the last moment. How effect his purpose- Very guardedly he broached the sub- ject to his wife, assuring her that he merely needed a few drops of a certain last fluid to ease his moments. first she refused, d pose. But, in the end, his will over- bore hers. His personal effects had been given to her, at his request; and he now instructed her where to find what he required in a small medicine case. She was to procuresa globule bottie, of the llest size, at a homeo- pathic chemist’s, and this she was to fill from a particular phial in the case, ecorking and sealing it most carefully. “But how am I to pass it to you un- seen?” she demanded, tremulously. “There is but one wa he made an- swer, “empl zing his words by press- ing his lips to hers. “You must pass the phial under cover of a kiss.” “Oh, Richard!” she moaned, “this is asking more of me than I can do! It is too terrible!” “Is i he retorted, in an angry whisper. “Then, don’t do it. But re- member, you are embittering my last moments by your refusal. And now, ” Thus sorely pressed, what could the grief-stricken wife do but consent? “God forgive us both, Richard,” she sobbed, “if I am doing wrong. I shall do exactly as you bid me.” “Spoken like a brave little woman and a true wife!” he answered. “It will comfort you hereafter to know ‘that you made the end easier.for me. And see here, dear. Do not prolong eur last interview to-morrow night. I shall need all my nerve to face the vend, and the briefer our farewell, the better for us both. Above all, keep your promise.” “I shall keep my promise, Richard, she said, in a voice so broken with an- guish that even the warder turned his head and stood with hand-covered eyes. Warders, after all, are human; and he was a married man, “Ask for some more paper, please,” remarked Somerville, after his wife was gone. “I must finish my mono- graph, and the time is running short.” The man started. Such imperturable coolness was beyond his experience. But he signalled to a colleague, and the prisoner was supplied with the re- quired paper. Far into the night the doomed man wrote. Then, overcome, at length, by weariness, he bade his ~eustodian good-night, threw himself vapon his truckle-bed and slept like a aa muttered the warder.“As they make them and—as “Cool!” cool as game!” That same evening a queer fancy took possession of Daft Billy. Al though his interest in the little busi- ness presided over by Joe’s mother, made it no longer necessary for him to hawk special editions, he thought he would like to resume his old vocation (by way of change) upon the scene of his first meeting with Zana. And so, equipping himself with a stock of even- ing newspapers, he betook himself to his former station near Blackfriars Bridge. But either there was dearth of excit- ing telegrams or his voice had lost its trick of forcing his literary wares upon the public—for, after a time, he wear- ied of his self-imposed task, and, mak- ing a present of sundry unsold copies to a former acquaintance in the same line of business, bent his steps home- ward. Near Ludgate Circus some workmen were testing certain under- ground wires, by torchlight, in search of a leakage in the electric current. Billy paused to watch the operations, and was staring curiously at the coils of wire when his pipe slipped from his hand and fell into the open trap. He instantly sprang forward to recover it. “Stand back, you fool!’ cried the foreman, roughly; but the warning came too late. Billy’s head came in contact with the wire, at the leakage point, and he was smitten down as by a lightning stroke, The men ed him and examined him by the light of a torch. “Poor chap!” was the foreman’s com- ment. “He'll meddle no more with electric currents; he’s as dead as a salt herring.” Such also was the opinion of two hastily-summoned policemen and of a group of onlookers, as the stricken man was borne off to the nearest po- lice station. But such did not prove to be the verdict of the divisional sur- geon, by whose orders Billy was promptly transferred to King’s College Hospital. “The man is not dead yet,” he af- firmed, after a brief examination, “though whether he'll ever come round is another question.” At the hospital, despite the remedies applied and the care bestowed upon him, Billy showed no signs of return- ing consciousness for upwards of th ty hours. Then, at length, science tri- umphed over death, and he stared va- cantly around him. As one result of the terrible shock, he had received the paralytic distortion of the lower jaw and the ceaseless blinking of the eyes had almost disappeared. Electricity, as is well known, acts directly upon the nervous system; and the accident had wrought a marked improvement in his appearance. “Come, that’s better, my map,” re- marked the house surgeon, with true professional satisfaction that his ef- forts had not been wasted. “We will pull you through this time, never fear. Tell me. What is your name? Where do you live?” “I don’t know,” was the feebly-ut- tered reply. The doctor raised one of his patient’s eyelids and looked puzzled. ‘“No symp- toms of brain-paralysis here,” he mut- tered. “Merely temporary lapse of memory, due to the shock, I take it. “Very well, my man. Drink up this sleeping draught. and don’t trouble to think yet awhile.” Bill obeyed, and was soon buried in profound slumber. “He'll be right enough by morning,” said the doctor to his assistant. “Do not let him sleep later than 6 o’clock.” Merciful Heavens Can It Be? A house surgeon’s order is a rigid law in a hospital ward. At the hour named Billy was aroused with some difficulty. “Well?” queried the assistant,. “is your brain clear now?” “Yes,” he replied. “My brain is, I think, clear enough, but I should like to sleep a little longer.” “You're not to,” was the curt rejoin- der. “Can you guess where you are?” The patient glanced around him. “In a sick ward, I suppose,” hé made an- swer. ¢ “Quite right,’ assented his interro- gator, approvingly. ‘Now, I want to know your name and where you live. You met with an accident, tampering with a current wire ,and we wish .to inform your friends of your wherea- bouts.” ; “My name?” repeated the patient, in evident surprise. ‘““Why—Ernest Nor- ton, of course. Mr. friend, Dr. Somer- ville might have told you that, since I stayed with him last night in Twick- enham. Why did he send me here? 1 suppose I must have had a fit of some sort, for I remember nothing after he tried to hypnotize me. Where is he?’ The assistant stared at him for a-few moments in speechless amazement. Like other newspaper readers, he was familiar with the facts of the sensa- tional Somerville trial. “Great heavens, man!” he exclaimed, recovering his voice. what you are saying?” “Of course I do.” was the reply. “I ‘Do you know ask you again, where fs Dr. Somer- ville?” “He is lying at the present moment in Horsemonger Lane Gaol, under sen- tence of death for the murder of this same Ernest Norton whom you assert yourself to be!” cried the assistant, in great agitation. “Mad or sane, the po- lice must at once be made acquainted with your astounding statement. But, tell me: if you are really Ernest Nor- ton, and not a deluded lunatic, why have you kept silent all these months?” “Months?” re-echoed the sick man. “You must be mad yourself!.... But what is this te AY Weard?.’..... Long, straggling hair! For pity’s sake, bring me a mirror!” ‘The mirror was brought and held be- fore the sick man's face. “Heavens!” he moaned, “am I really mad?...... I know I am Ernest Nor- ton, and yet I am altered past recogni- tion...... Surely, I am either mad or dreaming!” “Dreaming you certainly are not,” was the rejoinder, “and the responsibil- ity of treating you as mad is too heavy for my shoulders. But, great heaven! I now remember that the execution is fixed to take place this morning! Here! Parker! Ashworth! Hold this patient down until I return!” And the assist- ant huried away to telephone to Scot- land yard. Weak as he was, the sick man was quickly overpowered by the two stal- wart wardsmen, despite his desperate efforts to rush off to the rescue of his The Fatal Vial Was Transferred. friend. In vain he stormed and prayed, urging that the appearance of him, Er- nest Norton, in the fiesh, at Horsemon- ger Lane Gaol, would be the most cer- tain means of arresting the execution. Parker and Ashworth were obdurate. The assistant surgeon, they averred, knew what he was about, and their knew what he was about, an dtheir duty was to obey his orders. “So you had best keep quiet,” re- marked Parker, drily, “if you don’t want to be strapped down.” By 7 o'clock the hospital ward had assumed the appearance of a police court. A very few inquiries had suf- ficed to safisfy the first hastily-sum- moned inspector that there was at least a possibility the sick man’s as- sertion might be true, and the splendid- ly-organizer machinery of the depart- ment did the rest. Some delay arose, owing to the difficulty of procuring a magistrate at so early an hour; but that, too, had been overcome, and the sick man’s depositions were taken with unprecedented dispatch. Josiah Skinner, as having been main- ly identified with the case, had been in- stantly summoned, and, upon learning the nature of the extraordinary busi- ness on hand, had sped off to fetch the only. witness he knew of who could verify or disprove the sick man’s claim to be Ernest Norton. Craven street is not far from King’s College hospital. “Dress as quickly as you can,” he wrote upon a card, taken by a drowsy chambermaid to Zana’s room, “and ac- company me. A matter of life and death!” Zana was soon ready, and together they proceeded to the hospital. “Be prepared for a surprise,” he told her on the way, “but do not ask any questions at present.” The depositions were completed as they entered the ward, and the sick man, exhausted by excitement and his previous struggles, had once more fall- en asleep. “What is now needed to justify the gaol authorities in staying the execu- tion until the facts are laid before the home secreta is some proof of the deponent’s identity,” remarked the magistrate, judicially. “I have brought a witness, your wor- ship,” said Josiah, with ca satisfac- tion at his own foresight, “whose evi- dence should be conclusive, one way or | the other, upon that point.” “Very good, Mr. Skinner, vas the approving comment. “Now, then, my young lady, I want you to look at the face of that man } d, and say whether you can recognize him.” Zana looked long and earnestly at the pallid features, and a look, first of doubt, then of bewilderment, came over her face. “He is like a newsvendor who once saved my life, and whom I have known as Daft Billy,” she answered, presently. “Yet, the distortion of the mouth seems gone, and the eyes...... Merciful Heaven, can it be?.... i It is he! Ernest! My beloved! Look at me! Speak to me!”’.... ‘Tis I, Zana! ... Oh! my poor lost love!” And but for the timely support of Josiah’s out- stretched arm, she would have fallen senseless upon the outstretched form of her lover. CHAPTER Xx. The End of the Mystery. Faithful and loyal to the last, Mrs. Somerville obeyed her husband's in- structions to the letter, and when the warder on duty warned her that the final, heart-breaking interview must be brought to a close, the fatal phial was transferred from her lips to those of the doomed man without exciting the faintest suspicion. Truly, a kiss of Deatli, and as sore.a test of wifely love as ever self-sacrificing woman was called upon to give. “I can do no more, Richard,” she moaned, “than pray that we may meet again in Heaven. Farewell, my hus- band!” Somerville embraced her in silence; and, so soon as she was gone, busied himself as usual, with his manuscript. When the last sheet had been carefully revised, he made the monograph into a neat packet, which he addressed to the President of the Royal College of Sur- geous. “And now that my earthly labors are over,” he remarked, with a grim em- i | phasis, to his custodian, “I think I'll take a rest.” “Best thing you can do, sir,” replied | the warder, more impressed than ever with the doomed man’s cool courage, “or your nerves may be unstrung in the morning.” “Not they,” “They'll be as steady as those of a corpse. Good-night.” “Good-night, sir,” rejoined the ward- er, half-shuddering at the idea of wish- ing a good-night to a man doomed to be hanged next morning. Somerville lay down upon his, truck- le-bed and covered his face with a blanket to deaden the sound of the broken glass. Then his strong, white teeth closed upon the phial, and in a few seconds all was over. “He sleeps precious sound for a man who has got to die in an hour,” mut- tered the warder, as the prison clock struck seven. “I never saw nor heard was the calm retort. | of his match for right-down, hard pluck. And that’s a fact.” Very shortly afterwards thé con- demned man’s breakfast was brought (according to an old but, it would seem, rather a superfluous custom), and it be- came necessary to awaken him. “Come, sir, try and peck a bit, just to keep your heart up,” said the warder, shaking his charge by the shoulder. “Why, what’s this?.... Blame me if I don’t believe he’s given us all the slip!” At that moment the hangman made his ppearance to perform the prelim- ies of his ghastly work, followed by the chaplain, the governor and the gaol surgeon. The sheriff had not yet arrived. Gaol surgeons are accustomed to a fainting fit on the part of the con- demned man, when the fatal time draws nigh; and, therefore, Dr. Griffin | did not, at first, suspect tne truth. But | a very brief examination satisfied him that, in this case, the gallows had been robbed of its prey. He lowered his | face to within a few inches of that of the dead man, and then turned toward } the hangman, who stood irresolute by the door. “Your services will not be required,” | he said, quietly. “Cyanide of potassium has done your work.” “Is the man really dead?” asked the | governor and the chaptain, in a breath. | “As dead as Pharaoh,” was the re ply. The governor pursed his lips in v tion. That a felon should have pro- cured a deadly poison while under his charge, was a deep mortification, and he glared ominously at the warder on duty. The chaplain raised his eyes to Heaven—doubtless the proper thing for a chaplain to do under the circum- stances. Then the rapid tramp of many feet was heard in the corridor, and the sheriff entered, accompanied by the magistrate and several police officers. Quite unsuspicious of what had taken place, the sheriff walked briskly up to the truckle-bed and said, in cheery tones: “Better late thin never, Dr. Somer- We have strong preof that the mg man has turred up at last. though why he should have masquer- aded as a newsvendor all these months is still somewhat a mystery..... Why, what ails the man?’ he asked, turning | to the loctor. “He has been dead some hours,” was the reply. “By some means he pro- cured cyanide of potassium id pois- oned himself during the night.” “What a pity!’ exclaimea the sheriff. “Then we are too late to save him, af- ter all.” So, the body of Richard Somerville was laid upon the truckle-bed to await the inquest “There'll be a nice row over that pois- on,” whispered the executioner to the warder, half-spitefully. “You'll lose your billet, to a certainty.” “And you lose your fe was the an- gry retort, as the two followed their superiors into the corridor. A moral reflection, a lost billet and a lost fee- Not a thought for the broken-hearted wife. Suéh is human nature. When Ernest Norton awoke, the first object his eyes rested upon was Zana, seated by his bedside. “Zana-” he cried. “You here!.... Or am I still dreaming?” “No, dearest,” sue answered, softly. “The whole hideous dream of the past is over, at last. But, oh, Ernest! How came you to disappear so mysteriously, and then to cross my path so changed that I never suspected your identity with the Daft Billy who saved my life?” Norton stared at her in utter bewild- erment. “I don’t understand, Zana,” he said, after a pause. “From the night when Somerville tried to hypno- tize me (perhaps he did) until I re- gained consciousness in this ward, my memory is a blank. But tell me of | yourself and all that has happened.” And so she told him the whole story, as it has been given in this narrative, from the time of their parting at TER Me Sleeps Precious Well. Southampton—or as much as she knew of it; and, indeed, seldom has lover list- ened to stranger tale from the lips of his beloved. “And Somerville? *he inquired, cold- ly; for his heart had hardened against his former friend, as Zana went on. “What of him? Were they in time to save him?” “No,” she answered. “Mr. Skinner called here to tell me that he had found means to poison himself before they reached the gaol. Forgive him, now, Ernest, as I do?” “T will try to, dearest,” he assented, “though it is hard to forgive even a dead man his treatment of you. As for myself, he merely succumbed to great temptation, believing me dead. That I forgive freely. Let us leave him to God.” f It was several days before Norton was pronounced well enough to leave the hospital, where his strange case aroused the liveliest interest among pathologists. It was generally agreed among these experts that just as his apparent death and loss of memory had been caused by a surcharge of the | electric current used by Dr. Somerville, | so. his recent oblivion of his career a§ daft Billy had been due to the severe shock sustained at Ludgate Circus. But to what extent Somerville’s hyp- notic power had influenced this pecu- liar condition of brain was a point fiercely contested, more especially af- ter the publication of the monograpb written in gaol. Carefully-instituted inquiries ena- bled Josiah Skinner to solve the mys- tery of Norton’s appearance as Daft Billy with tolerable certainty. Early upon the morning of April 7th the body You See, I Was Right, After All. of a man resembling Norton had been found upon a mud bank, a little be- yond Richmond. Although apparently dead, this man had revived under the application of strong restoratives; and, being obviously a, paralytic imbecile, who could tell nothing of his anteced- ents, he had been detained for several weeks in the Richmond workhouse-in- firmary. Discharged thence (as being harmless and capable of earning a livelihood at some light employment) he had found his way to London, where he had picked up with Joe, by whom he had been initiated into the art and dodges of selling newspapers. It was while thus empyoyed (and changed past recognition by his afflic- tion and beard) that he had met Zana. Of course, thenceforward, all was clear. After a brief discussion, Zana con- sented to a speedy marriage, and ac compdnied her lover to secure the spe- cial license. No difficulty was experi. enced in establishing his claim and hers to the drafts and jewels found in the possession of Richard Somerville. And so, perhaps, chastened and strengthened by the cruel ordeals of the Past, the young couple looked for- ward with confidence to the happy Future. Needless to say, the honeymoon was spent at “The George,” Southampton, where Mrs. Baxter received them with open arms. “You see, I was right, after all, Mrs. Baxter.” remarked Zana, arcbly. “Well, yes, my dear,” admitted the worthy landlady. “But one swallow does not make a summer, we all now, and it’s not one woman in a thousand gets a husband——” “Like Ernest,” interrupted Zana, laughing. “Of course, not!” “Nor other man living who has a wife like mine,” added Norton, kissing his bride fondly. The End. Wire Fences in England. English devotees of the hunt are meeting with occasional disaster on account of the growing habit among farmers of inclosing their lands with wire fences, sometimes barbed, in place of rail fences. A few farmers are so obliging as to take dawn these wire fences in the winter, others tie red rag_ on the wire, so that the obstructions may be announced in time to the horse- men; but a few farmers, who are against the hunters on principle, say that if men are going to ride over their lands they can do so at their own risk, and refuse to announce the presence of wire. The other day, a six-season mare, as clever a hunting horse as was in the district, was literally cut to rags, the strand of barbed wire being run loosely through the top of a hedge and lapping around her like a snake when she was brought down. The mare was shot, and the rider escaped a broken neck only by a miracle. This hap- pened in one of the most fashionable hunting districts. An Operatic Incident. At the beginning of the fourth act of Werther there is an intermezzo. As it goes on the musie rises to a tremend: ous climax, and there is a great din of drums, horns and fiddles and all the other instruments. Just as the noise gets to its greatest volume, there is a sudden stop, and all that is heard is the faint sound of a few instruments. Werther had not been sung here be- fore for three years, and many of those who heard it on Wednesday night had forgotten about this startling change. The climax of the intermezzo was reached in grand style, and when the sudden stop came a clear, piping, femi- nine voice, coming from the cleft of the grand tier of boxes, was heard to say: “Well, I would be perfectly satisfied if I could get a good, plain cook.’ And it was time for “Werther” to weep.—New York Sun. A Chalk Island. The English island of Thanet (form- erly a part of the county of Kent) is almost wholly composed of chalk. The island is ten miles in length and about five in breadth, and has more chalk exposed on its surface than any other spot of equal area on the globe. Brit- ish geologists say that there are not less than 42,000,000,000 tons of chalk “in sight” on Thanet, and that it would take 10,000 men and 5,000 horses and carts twenty years to move it, provid- ed it were dug up ready to be carried away. Changed Conditions. “Phew! isn’t it cold?” exclaimed Bellefield. “Don’t you like it?” answered Bloom. field. “T can’t say I do.” “But you are one of the men who were wishing for an old-fashioned winter.” “Well, it’s a condition, and not a the. ory, which confronts me now.”—Pitts- burg Chronicle. A Correction. Knox—I think you must have been mistaken in your conclusion that old Shek/ls cut his son off without a pen- ny. Fox—What makes you think so? Knox—Because he was all in rags when I saw him, and that would indi. cate that he must have been torn ott.— Boston Courier. e Keep Your blood pure, your a] digestive organs in healthy condition at this ye season, and thus avoid serious oods Sarsaparilla The Best—in fact the One True Blood Purifier: it ‘iol Hood’s Pills guzasuee page= She Knew. Dolly was reading about St. John the Baptist. She hadn’t seen the abbrevia- tion ‘St.” for “Saint” before. “You don’t know what that means, Dolly, do you?” said her mother. “Why, yes I do too,’ said Dolly, “That says: ‘Street John the Baptist, doesn’t it?’—Indianapolis Journal. At the funeral of Linton, the professional, bieyelist of London, his wheel, draped im black, was led behind the hearse. 264 BUS. CORN PER ACRE. It’s marvelous how we progress! You can make money at 10 cents a bushel when you get 264 bushels corn, 230 bushels cats, 173 bushels barley, 1,600 bushels potatoes per acre! Salzer’s creations in farm seeds proguce. $10.00 WORTH FOR 10 CENTS! Just Send This Notice and 10 Cent to the John A. Salzer Seed Co. La Crosse, Wis., and get 12 farm seed samples, worth $10, to get a start. w.n. Not a Desirable Relative. “I am sorry for you,” she said, soft- ly, after her refusal. He took hope. “Pity,” he faltered, “js akin to love.” “Perhaps it is,” she said; “but if so, in my case it is a stepmother.”—New York Journal. Beware. Of free cures. Do not expect some- thing for nothing. For $1 I will send you recipes that will positively cure you of semnal weakness or lost man- hood, from whatever cause. Address W. H. Baker, Grand Opera House Block, St. Paul, Minn. The world is crowded only in spots. There are still 20,000,000 square miles of the earth’s surface that have not been explored. Vibrating in Tuneful Accord. Like the strings of a musical instrument, the nervous system in health harmonizes pleasantly with the other parts of the sys- tem. But weakened or overwrought, it jangles most inharmoniously. Quiet and invigorate it with the great tranquilizer and tonic, Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters, which promotes digestion, bilious secretion and a regular action of the bowels, and prevents malarial, rheumatic and kidney complaints. ‘The common belief that fine white bread contains less nutriment than coarse brown bread is a mistake. So says M. Givard, the eminent Parisian chemist. IF YOU WANT TO BUY A FINE FARM in good fruit country, warm climate, impproved, $16,000 to $20.00 per acre, write tod. Car. Polk Co, Missouri. penter, Bolivar, An automatic tire pump, connected with the bicycle saddle, ig the latest invention. Whenever the rider is bounced on his sad- dle air is forced into the tires. Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup For children teething,softens the gums, reduces inflam tation, allays pain, cures wind colic. 25 centsa bottle. The finger nails of the king of Annam are as long as his fingers, and the chief duty of five of his wives is to take care of them. He has over 100 wives. I shall recommend Piso’s Cure for Con- sumption far and wide—Mrs. Mulligan, Plumstead, Kent, England, Nov. 8, 1895. In the El Pinal vineyard, Southern Call- fornid, is the largest brandy still in the world. It is capable of converting 15,000 gallons of wine into brandy every twenty- four hours. Cascarets stimulate Iver, kidneys and bowels. Never sicken, weaken or gripe, 10c. The names of habitual drunkards in Lau- ben, Prussian Silesia, are printed, and a list’ is given to each innkeeper. The per- son who supplies them with intoxicants is subject to a heavy fine. $100 Reward, $100. ‘The readers of this paper will be pleased to learn that there is at least one dreaded disease tnat science has been able to cure in all its stages, and that is catarrh. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is the only positive cure now known to the medical fraternity. Catarrh being a constitutional disease, re- uires a constitutional treatment. Hall's ‘atarrh Cure is taken internally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous sur- faces of the system, thereby destroying the foundation of thé disease, and giving the patient strength by building up the constitution and assisting nature in doing its work. The proprietors have so much faith in its curative powers that they of- fer One Hundred Dollars for any case that it fails to cure. Send for list of tes- timonials. Address, F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, Q Sold by druggists, 7c. Hall's Family Pills are the best. The National Bank of Norway was started by the government compelling its well-to- do inhabitants to subscribe for the stock, and in sums divisible by five to facilitate bookkeeping. The bank is also a pawnshop. Coe’s Cough Balsam Is the oldest and best. It will break up a Cold quicker than anything else. Itis always reliable. Try it. The ordlonny speed of a house fly is 25 fect a second; but when chased it often attains a speed of 160 feet a second. Awarded Highest Honors—World’s Fair, Gold Medal, Midwinter Fair. PRICE _ A Pure Grape Cream of Tartar Powder. &) lo ) i