Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 12, 1905, Page 9

A. WOMAN’S. ORDEAL BREADS DOCTOR'S GUESTIONS ‘Thousands Write to Mrs.Pinkham, Lynn, Mass., and Receive Valuable Advice ' Absolutely Confidential and Free ‘There can be no more terrible ordeal to a delicate, seasitive, refined woman than to be obliged to answer certain questions in regard to her private ills, even when those questions are by her family physician, and many continue to suffer rather than submit to examinations which so many physi- cians propose in order to intelligently treat the disease; and this is the rea- son why so many physicians fail to cure female disease. ‘This is also the reason why thousands upon thousands of women are corre- sponding with Mrs, Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass. To her they can confide every detail of their illness, and from her great knowledge, obtained from years of experience in treating female ills, Mrs. Pinkham can advise women more wisely than the local physician. Read how Mrs. Pinkham helped Mrs. T. C. Willadsen, of Manning, Ia, She writes: Dear Mrs. Pinkkam:— “IT can truly say that you have saved my life, and I cannot express my gratitude in words. Before I wrote to you telling you how I felt, lL had doctored for over two years steady, and spent lots of money in medicines besides, but it all failed todo me any good. I had female trouble and would daily have faint- ing spells, backache, bearing-down pains, an my monthly periods were very irregular and ially cease { I wrote to you for your ad- vice and received a letter full of instructions just what todo, and also commenced to take Lydia E. Pinkyam’s Vegetable Compound, rnd I have bee% restored to perfect health. Had it not been for you I would have been in my grave to-day.” Mountains of proof establish the fact that medicme in the world-equals Lyc . Pinkham’s Vegetable Com- pound for restoring women's health, AGAIN ENSLAVED. The Man of Little Nerve Falls a Vic- tim to the Brush Boy- “T had thought to be free, but I am again enslaved,” said the man of little nerve “lately,” he explained, “I changed my barber sbop and I had made up ray mind that under no circumstances whatever, except maybe a little some- at Christmas, would I ever, ever ve a cent to the brush boy. ‘A “It was a good barber, and I rose from the chair pleased with him and with myself and all the world—to see, standing there back of the chair in which I had been so serenely sitting, the shop’s brush boy brushing my hat. As I stood there he brushed and brushed it, and then he didn’t hand it to me, but carefully held it further ry, With one hand, while with the other he proceeded to brush me. “And too timid to seize my hat and fice, | stood for it, and turned around for him and let him brush, and—in short, I fell. “So now my fond dreams are over and I am again enslaved to the brush boy Sound as a Dollar. ‘ Vonticello, Minn., Aug. 7th.—Mr. J. W. Moore of this place stands as a liv- ing proof of the fact that Bright’s Dis- ease, even in’ the last stages, may be perfectly and permanently cured by Dodd's Kidney Pills. Mr. Moore says: “In 1898 three reputable physicians after a careful examination told me that I would die with B t's Disease inside of a year. My feet and ankles and legs’ were badly swollen; I could hardly stand on my feet and had given up all hopes of getting cured when a traveling salesman told me that he himself had been cured of Bright’s Disease two years before. ‘He said he had taken to his bed and expected to die with it, but that he had been cured by a remedy called Dodd's Kidney Pills. “1commenced taking them at once and I am thankful to say that they saved my life. After a short treat- ment I was completely restored to good health and I am now as sound as a dollar.” New Land of Romance. America is no longer the only coun- try of unlimited possibilities. The ro- mantic drama which began with the mutiny of the Potemkin in Odessa, and was continued in the harbor of Constantza, proves that nothing can be considered impossible in Russia.— Vienna Die Zet. Important to Mothers. ‘Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for infants and children, and see that it Bears the Bignatare of y Liedtke im Use For Over 30 Years, 'The Kind You Have Always Bought, Nordy—I see they've now discovered a worm that infests paper money. Butts—What sort of a worm is it? Nordy—A long, green affair—Hous- ton Chronicle. Piso’s Cure is the best medicine we ever used tor ell affections of the throat and iungs.—WM. O. ExpsLey, Vanburen, Ind., Feb. 10, 1900. Many a woman has washed away her matrimonial prospects with salt teats The CHAPTER XXI.—(Continued. Then there was much delay Clarence was able to rouse the old | never have opened it. man without rousing the occupants of the neighboring cabins. ‘Sarcerer’ of St. By PROF. WILLIAM H. PECK. Giles the great iron door, which at that time ere } was closed, but not bolted, or he could The resistance to his advance at that time was caused by the firmness of the rust, which held But at last he was able to see and | the door closed. speak with the old fisherman private- ly, who no sooner recognized the savior of his life than he offered to do anything that Clarence might desire— except go to Dun Aengus. Clarence, however, did not desire the old men’s company, but to engage him to take Helen and himself to Gal- way on the next morning, or to hold his boat in readiness for the use of the lovers for a day or two, in case they did- not before that time present them- selves at Kilronan. To this the fisherman willingly agreed, and also pledged his word not to reveal to any one aught of what Clarence had found it necessary to tell him. The old man’s statement that a king’s officer was stationed at Kii- leany made Clarence very cautious, for he feared that a narrative of his escape and reward for his capture, with a description of his person and the route of his supposed flight, might be in possession of the king's officer. He did not know that Lord Genlis had never seen him, and that he was in no danger of rearrest; and his chief | desire at present was to rescue Helen from Dun Aengus and make her his wife as soon as possible. “I may return in a few hours,” he had said to the old fisherman; “so have your boat ready for the trip, -at the cove just east of the village. I am quite sure I shall be there with my friend’—he had not told the old man that his friend was a young lady—“by an hour after sunrise. If you do not see us on the beach by noon, return | to your home, and expect us to arouse you between to-morrow's midnight and the dawn of the next day.” With this understanding Clarence returned to Dun Aengus and entered the building. His first care was to look into that room in which he had left Lord Gen- lis and Martha. The lamp on the table was burning dimly, yet he was able to see the po- sition of those in the rcom. Every- thing was-as Susia leftil. No smell of the recently burned pastilles greeted the nostrils of Clarence. He suspect- ed nothing-of»the-truth..The»breath-: ing of the two sleepers was heavy, deep and regular. “They sleep well. It is. an hour when sleep is most profound,” mut- tered Clarence. “If we make haste, Helen and I will be safe out of Dun Aengus ruins within half an hour—it is fully that time before dawn. But these may awake. I will make sure that they shall sleep for two or three hours, for the woman seems restless.” Indeed Martha began to stir and was about to wake up. The former pupil of the sorcerer had pastilles similar to those Sosia had used. He took them from a broad- mouthed vial and tossed two of them into the room. One fell upon the carpet and did not light, the other upon the table, and burst noiselessly into a flame. The sorcerer, watching trom the darkness, and able to note the move- ments of Clarence by the dim light that streamed upward through the opening, grinned and said to himself: “A few more of those sleep pastilles will put them into a sleep from which they will never awake on earth!” Clarence now took a bit of candle from his bosom, lighted it, looked about till he found a few loose boards, and these he placed over the opening. “They will not awake for two hours at least, he thought; “and by that time Helen and I shall be, I hope, far on our way to Galway.” He now moved rapidly but deliber- ately through the rambling mansion till he arrived at the trap door in the closet. The sorcerer, watching him from a distance saw him lift the trap door, enter the recess below if, and close the trap door after him. “Now be is descending the spiral stone stairway,” thought Sosia. “He goes to the trap like a decoyed fox! I shall be near the iron door of the | dungeon before he enters it.” The next instant saw the sorcerer touch a spring which opened a secret door near him, and through this open- ing he glided to a passage which end- ed just at the iron door of the dun- geon—its termination no concealed as the door of the dungeon was swung back into that passage into which Clar- ence was going so unsuspiciously. CHAPTER XXIil. The Sorcerer Entraps Clarence. Clarence Darrell, after elosing the trap door, took up the lamp which he had left burning upon one of the steps of the spiral stone stairway, and con- tinued his descent until he arrived at the long and narrow passage which led to the dungeon. This passage was straight, and though narrow, quite wide enough to permit a tall man to walk erect in it. When on the preceding day, Clar- ence first entered this passage, he had come out of the dungeon toward the When Clarence forced the door back upon its hinges it had hidcen a smaller iron door, which opened into that smaller passage by means of which Sosia arrived behind the door of the dungeon before Clarence entered the latter. Clarence came on throvgh tke other passage, unaware that the door of the dungeon concealed the door of anoth- er passage. He had never looked be- hind the iron door, nor did he imagine that anything more thdn solid wall was behind it. Holding his lamp a little elevated to guide his steps, he passed the iron door and entered the dungeon. Sosia, hidden by the open door, and peering into the dungeon:through a crevice between the hinges, was able to watch the movements of his in- tended captive. Clarence walked across the dungeon floor, going straight and without pause toward the entrance of that passage which led to where he had left Helen Beauclair. The spot was diagonally opposite to where Sosia lurked. The sorcerer could see every movement that Clar- ence made. Suddenly Clarence halted, recoiled a pace, and exclaimed: “Great heaven! what is this?” He had just perceived the stone door. He wheeled about, his face pale, surprised and full of dismay, and at the same instant Sosia hurled himself against the outer side of the iron:door. Well oiled and cunningly preparea for this sudden violence, the door swept swiftly around upon its hinges and clashed loudly as it closed, and Clarence received a severe shock as he hurled his weight against it. “Oh'” he gasped, “this is not chance! . This is a trap! I am fost!” As he spoke thus he heard the clang and clash of bolts and bars on the other side of the door. “Ho, there!” shouted Clarence. whom do I owe this? Speak!” “To But he waited in vain for a reply to} his words. Turning his eyes toward his lamp, {-which: lay.-upon_its, side- where hevhad dropped it, he saw that it was about to go out. He hurried to it, picked it up, and advanced again to the stone door. He examined this in vain to find some means of moving it. His fiercest lunges against it would not ven jar this solid door. Its surface, hewn and smooth, presented no place large enough to permit him to insert even a finger nail. How far it extended on either side into the sides of the pas- sage it blocked he could not judge. But between its to pand that of the passag> was a space more than a foot in length and about four inches wide. This space was about on a level with Clarence’s waist as he stood erect. He knelt and shouted into this open- ing: “Helen! Helen!” He had scarcely any hope to hear her reply; or any reply more than what came back to him—the hollow echoing, through the passage and in the cave beyond, of his own voice. “She is not there ,or she would re- ply,” he muttered. ‘Some one has carried her off. Some one has entrap- ped me. Who?” There was a legend of which he had heard in Kilronan. It had been told him by the old fisherman, a few hours before; a legend which said that once a beautiful peasant girl, to put to scorn the superstitious fears of ner comrades, had ventured to visit the ruins of Dun Aengus alone, and at night; and that she had never been seen nor heard of again; that the spir- it of the mist had seized her; that her lover had on the next day ventured in search of her, and that he had never been seen nor heard of after. Clarence Darrell, however, was of too strong a mind to believe that oth- er than mortal hands had shared in thus entrapping him. Receiving no reply to bis shouts, he thrust his hand and arm through the opening. This only enabled him to detect that the stone door was nearl ya foot thick. So far as his extended fingers could grope about onthe other side of the impassable obstacle, they felt only a smoothly-hewn surface. He arose from his examination of this door and turned his face toward the outer one. ~ The light of his lamp fell squarely upon the inner surface of the iron door, and he now perceived, what he had not seen before. a hole near the center of the door, about two inches in diameter. The door was of solid iron, about an inch thick, and through that hole, shining bright in the rays of the lamp, Clarence saw peering a human, eye. It was the eye of the sorcerer, glar- ing with devilish exultation. But Clarence was unable, of course, to recognize this eye as one that he had ever seen. Yet he knew instantly that it was the eye of a man or a wom- an, and his thoughts went toward Lord Genlis and Martha Bashfort. i He did not yet suspect that the sor- ‘If and Helen, only two li were at or near Dun Aen- “It is possible, he thought, “that those two have in some way outwitted me, and prepared this trap for me while I was away. They may have dis- covered Helen; discovered how to block the passage; how to entrap me. Come,’ he added aloud, gazing stead- | ily at the eye, and not more than ten feet from it, “I see you. Speak! To whom do I owe this? That eye be- longs to Lord Genlis, or to Martha Bashfort, does it not?” The owner of the eye made no reply. The malicious sorcerer was silently enjoying the success of his wily trap. “It is glorious!” said Sosia to him- self, as he pressed his face against the outer side of the iron door, and rubbed his paims together. How pale with despair he is! .Oh, this is a rich, a superb vengeance! He still does not suspect whos2 work it is. But what is he doing now? Praying! Bah! much gocd praying will do him in there!” At this moment Clarerce did seem to be praying, for he was upon his knees, with his back toward the sor- cerer. He was not praying, however, but noislessly cocking a pistol. Suddenly he wheeled about with the quickness of lightning, and fired at the eye. The bullet whistled through the hole and tirough the hair of the sorcerer, who saved his life by duck- ing his head the instant the flintlock struck flame in the pistol pan The sorcerer ducked not the hundredth part of a second too soon, for the bullet not only whistled through his hair, but cut his scalp and gave him a tap on his skull, so that he fell in a heap as if cut down by a bludgeon. He was insensible for a moment, and while so uttered a dismal groan. “So much for you, whoever you are,” cried Clarence, triumphantly, for he heard the fall and the groan, and had no doubt that his bullet had pierced a human brain straight through that eye. “Sosia taught me how to shoot.” he muttered, as he proceeded deliber- ately to reload his pistol. I would like to know whether I have killed a man or a womai—whether it is Lord Gen- lis or Martha Bashfort. It must be one or the other.” By this time the sorcerer’s senses had returned to him, and he scrambled to his feet, making quite a floundering noise at first, ere his stunned wits were in his rapped skull again. “Ah!” muttered Clarence, again turning his attention toward the iron door. “He or she dies hard! So—all is still there now.” “What a fool I was not to jerk my head to the left!” thought the sor- cerer, on the other side of the door, and gingerly feeling his slashed scalp; then his infernal bullet would only have whistled past my right ear, and now I have had as narrow an escape as ever I had in all my life! What a ready rascal with the pistol he is! I must be on my guard, for he‘ never misses his aim. He may be aiming at the hole now. I must dampen his courage a little. Still, I wish to see him as he perceives the paper.” The paper to which these thoughts of the sorcerer referred, was that leat which he nad torn from his tablet book in Helen’s presence, and on which he bad written with ink from a little ink horn which he was never without. This paper, only a few inches square, was where he had placed it just before he blocked the outer pas- sage with the stone door, and Clar- ence had not yet perceived it. It was against the wall, just over the ring bolt above the fragments of the ar- mored skeleton. The sorcerer thrust a slender piece of broken lath through the hole—a piece he had used while preparing the way for the easy swinging of the iron door a few hours before The splinter. as he held it, protruded several inches into the dungeon, and in the direction where he had last seen Clarence. Clarence had not moved from where he was when he had fired his pistol, and the spliater pointed straight at him. “Ah! what does this mean?” de- manded Clarence, perceiving the splin- ter, and now aware that some one was alive yet out there. (To Be Continued.) Charms and Alarms. The lecture at the Female Enlight- enment club that afternoon was “How to Keep Our Husbands at Home at Night.” “Cultivate for his enjoyment your early musical tastes and accomplish- ments. Don’t keep the piano closed when he is home and needs the sooth- ing influence of music’s charms,” ad- monished the matronly speaker. Sister Dorame—But that’s why Mr. Dorame rushed off to his club early every evening. He objects to what he calls my piano practice. Remarkable Repairing. One of the surprising features throughout the campaign has been the very short period of time that ships have been away from the fighting line. During the engagements many of the Japanese ships received severe treat- ment; but in most cases the engineers and mechanics on board succeeded in carrying out an amount of renova- tion which will prove one of the most striking circumstances of this great war.—Engineering. Just Step This Way, Colonel. At Bisbee I myself heard a man say to Col. Greene: “I’m broke. Let me have a few hundred.” And the col- onel’s hand went into his pocket. Again, in the same town, as the colonel was about to board his car, a man said to him: “I want to get to Cananea and I haven’t a —— cent.” Greene took out a roll, tore off two of the pills and handed them to the man, looking neither at the money nor tha man.—Gilson Willets, in Leslie's trap door stairway by forcing outward | cerer was alive. He believed that, be-} Weekly. “IVE PAGE IMPORTANT MATTER IN THE SCHEME OF LIFE. Too Little Interest Attached In These Rushing Days to the Question of Diet—Some People Who Seem Ut- terly Unable to Learn What Suits Them, Some women are born beautiful and with good sense, even with talents. Did you ever notice how many per- sons there are in which the lid of the zasket must have fallen before the be- ated and most important fairy ar- tived with the gift of knowing what lo eat? Not what to order. Any man with a moderate income and rich friends may learn how to or- jer. It seems second nature to thoose the right spoon or the conven- tional fork; but as to what to eat with them, this is a habit that simply must oe inborn—a seventh sense that is of as great importance as all the other six. A sick cat turns away from food. A sick dog refuses food, diets himself most regidly; in the spring he eats juicy green grass between meals. If this same dog were a human animal he would probably have stewed prunes, rhubarb, or apple sauce at this season along with his chops, and make a far more successful banker than anaemic John Smith. Now, there is the anaemic and irri- table gentleman who is filled with his Wrongs and the unkindaess of fate. de is sure to eat pork chops and. cu- cumbers for his luncheon, with a glass of milk to wash them down. He is genial in spells; just long enough to show the kind of man he would have been had the belated fairy only got there in time. The man who eats the wrong thing will usually tell you about it before he is through. “I wish I hadn’t eaten those cucumbers. I never should eat onions,” says he, beginning to look unhappy after eating seven. Now the cheery little married wom- an of your acquaintance, who man- ages her husband without his knowing It, she chats to the misanthrope over a luncheon of baked potatoes and fresh tomatoes. “Why, no,” chats she. “You see I never eat meat at roon. Just because I do not care for it. It spoils my dinner.” She would not have said that much if she had not been asked. “I always think she must have a wonderfully active liver,” said a clev- er woman speaking of a friend, “for she is never given to reproachful spells. She never, to my knowledge, has imagined herself to be wronged.” —New York Globe. Jim’s Quart. of Gin. “It may be that the average negro is ignorant,’ says Representative Moon, of Tennessee, “but I had one in me employ who was one of the shrewdest fellows I ever ran across. “Jim, for that was his name, was a good negro, but he loved gin better than he did his Maker, and he would not pay a debt if there was any earthly way to get out of it. One day Jim went to the store armed with a gallon jug, and asked for a quart of gin, telling the merchant that he was prepared to settle. The fluid was put in, and then it was discovered that Jim had no money. Forthwith the merchant poured the quart back in the measure while Jim picked up his jug and walked out smiling. “He had put in about a quart of water, and, of course, he had just that much gin and water in the jug. The grocer’s gin in his barrel was a little weaker, but Jim’s quart was strong enough to bridge over on.” Degrees of Obstinacy. Richard Brinsley Sheridan always maintained that the Duke of Wel- lington would succeed in Portugal, while his friend, Gen. Tarleton, had the opinion that he would fail. The matter was one of constant dispute between the two, Tarleton, who had been wrong, grew obstinate. Consequently, when the news of the retreat of the French at Torres Vedras arrived, Sheridan, by way of a taunt, said: “Well, Tarleton, are you on your high horse still?” “Oh, higher than ever,” was the reply. “If I was on a high horse be- fore, I am on an elephant now.” “No, no, my dear fellow,” said the wit; “you were on an ass before, and you are on a mule now.” Views About the New Baby. The Mother: “Isn’t he perfect?” . The Father: “Wonderful child!” The Uncle: “What! Another?” The Aunt (on the mother’s side): “He favors all of us.” The Aunt (on the father’s side): “He favors all of us.” The Nurse: “He’s a poor sleeper.” The Bachelor Friend: “I’m sorry for them.” The Cook: “He’s a darlint! (I'll give ’em notice to-morrow!)” The Doctor: “Shall I charge £10 or £202” The Cynic: “Well, it isn’t his fault” The Milkman: “Another custom- OE? High Finanee. illie had a savings banik, eas got A of painted tin, He ed it ‘round among the boys, 0 put their pennies in. Then Willie wrecked that bank and Sweetmeats and chew! gum, And to the other envious lads He never offered some. ry “what shall we do?” his mother said, “It is a sad mischance!” His father pn Fy OE cultivate ‘His gift finance.’ a —Washington Star. TWENTY YEARS OF IT. Emaciated by Diabetes; Tortured with Gravel and Kidney Pains. Henry Soule, cobbler, of Ham- mondsport, N. Y., says: “Since Doan's Kidney Pills cured me eight years ago, I’ve reached 70 and hope to live many years long- er: But. twenty years ago I had kidney trouble so pad I could not work. Backache was_ persistent and it was agony to lift anything. Gravel, whirling headaches, dizzi- ness and terrible urinary disorders ran me down from 168 to 100 pounds. Doctors told me I had diabetes and could not live. I was wretched and hopeless when I began using Doan’s Kidney Pills, but they cured me eight years ago and I've been well ever since.” Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sale by all dealers. Price, 50 cents per box. On His Rights. Kind-Hearted Lady—Come back at 1 o'clock to-night. Beggar—Impossible, madam. long to the union, and they dc low us to work overtime.—Meggen dorfer Blatter. Here is Relief for Women. Mother Gray, a nurse in New York covered a pleasant herb remedy for won ills, called AUSTRALIAN-LEAF. I) only certain monthly regulator. Cures female weaknesses, Backache, Kidney and Urinary troubles. At all Druggists or by mail 50 cts. Sample mailed FREE. Address, The Mother Gray Co., LeRoy, N. ¥. Her Dream. Miss Oldgirl—Oh, Mr. Bach, I had a very peculiar dream last night. Mr. Bach—What was it? “I dreamed I got married.” “You must have had mince pie for supper.” e “Why so?” “Because I don’t know of anything else that would make you have such a nightmare as that.” Dr. Dav! Great Kidn Kennedy’ Kennedy's Favorite Remedy, the i Liver Cure. World Famous. Write Dr Rondout, N. ¥., for free sample bottle AMERICA’S FIRST FIRE ENGINE. Still Preserved in a Bethlehem, Pa., Museum. It is a well authenticated historical fact that Bethlehem had the first hand fire engine in the United States. This claim has often been disputed, but never disproved, It was brought to this country from London in 1698, on the good ship Hope, having been purchased at sec- ond-hand there for 43 pounds 12 shill- ings. It had a flow of seventy-eight gallons per minute, and was used con- tinuously up to 1848. The Persever- ance fire company, now out of exist- ence, which was organized in 1762, had charge of the machine. Prior to that time it was the property of the citizens generally, for up to 1762 the town had no organized firemen. There were “emergency men,” and when a fire occurred every man in town turned out to fight it. This famous relic is harbored intact in the museum of the Young Men's Missionary Society of the Moravian church, which body is the oldest of its kind in America.—Philadelphia Record. Loopholes. Crawford—How many does a rich man have? Crabshaw—Usualy one when he votes, a country one when he swears off his taxes, and a western one when he sues for a di- vorce.—Puck. residences three. A city A Mean Inference. “When I as out West a fellow took a notion to me and gave me a room aad rent free all winter.” “That was nice. By the way, do they keep ja‘ls warm in that country?” Compound Interest cqmes to life when the body feels the delicious glow of health, vigor and energy. That Certain Sense of vigor in the brain and easy poise of the nerves comes when the improper foods are cut out and predigested rape- utSs take their place. ‘ If it has taken you years to run down don’texpectonemouthful of this t food to bring you back (for it is not a stimulant but a Rebuilder.) 10 days’ trial shows such big re- sults that one sticks to it. “There's a Reason.” Get the little book,“The Road Wellville,” in each’ pkg. e ‘ | =a as — t | + 4s | e + —+ 1 ae | ‘ s+ 4 4 oh ‘ . ay ‘ ¢ 4, a 1 Be. | oul k } wt I a), ri =i _ + |