Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 17, 1907, Page 8

A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE. How a Veteran Was Saved the Ampu- tation of a Limb. B. Frank Doremus, veteran, of Roosevelt Ave., Indianapolis, Ind., says: “I had been showing symptoms of kidney trouble from the time I was mus- tered out of the army, but in all my life I never suffered as in 1897. Headaches, diz- ziness and sleepless- ness, first, and then dropsy. I was weak and helpless, having run down from 180 to 125 pounds. I was having terrible pain in the kid- neys, and the secretions passed almost involuntarily. My left leg swelled un- til it was 34 inches around, and the doctor tapped it night and morning until I could no longer stand it, and then he advised amputation. I refused, and began using Doan’s Kidney Pills. The swelling subsided gradually, the urine became natural and all my pains and aches disappeared. I have been well now for nine years since using Doan’s Kidney Pills.” For sale by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. ¥. First Sight and Second Sight. Marriage is the result of falling in love at first sight. Divorce comes when you get your second sight. Handy Implement. That old Skinem is the greatest one for getting himself all marked up. Why his fingers are so black all the time I noticed the other day he even had an inky razor.” “Probably that is what he uses to shave his paper with. PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul, Minn.: Harley E. Coger, Minneapolis, Minn., therapeutic lamp; Andrew E. Gagnon, Minneapo- lis, Minn., coat adjuster; Thomas W. Jerrens, St. Paul, Minn., grass twine machine; Andrew Nelson, So. Stillwa- ter, Minn., water turbine; Gustaf Ol- ton, Monticello, Minn., power transmit- ting mechanism; Nels A. Rodness, Clarkfield, Minn., draft equalizer; Charles R. Smead, St. Paul, Minn., clip fastener. WORK TREATMENT IN DISEASE. Especially Successful With the Mental- ly Affected. Some interesting experiments con- ducted at the State Institution at Mauer Oehling have completely demon- strated the great value of work at a means of healing in various forms of chronic illness, especially in mental and nervous disorders, alcoholism and epilepsy. Under the supervision of Dr. Star- linger, the chief of the institution, no less than 54 per cent of the patients are engaged in some kind of occupa- tion. The majority are employed in farm, dairy and garden work, while others turn their attention to mechan- ical trades, including the production of a newspaper, which is printed and also largely written by the inmates. It has been found that the mentally affected and those suffering from al- coholism make the most willing and efficient workers. Work has a quiet- ing influence and renders the patients much more satisfied. The favorable effect on their physi- eal condition is shown from the fact that the number of deaths from tuber- culosis have steadily decreased since the introduction of the work treat- ment, although the number of patients has constantly increased. One other good effect of the work treatment is that the general public is found to lose much of its dread of asylums when it sees the patients en- gaged in some useful occupation. High-Priced Meat may be a Blessing If it gives one the chance to know the tremendous yalue of a complete change of diet. Try this for breakfast: A Little Fruit : A dish of Grape-Nutsand Cream A Soft-Boiled Egg Some Nice. Crisp Toast Cup of Well-made Postum Food Coffee That’s all, and you feel comfortable and well-fed until lunch. THEN REPEAT, And at night have a liberal meat and vegetable dinner, with a Grape-Nuts pudding for dessert. Such a diet will make a change in your health and strength worth trial. “There’s a Reason.” Bead “The Road to Wellville,” in pkgs. CHAPTER VI. (Continued.) In about three-quarters ef an hour they had passed up Portland Place, turned to the left, and were drawing near the house they sought. “It’s not very far now,” Charlie- wood said. He shook as he said so, and his voice had a very muffied sound. “Don’t you talk, old fellow,” Rath- bone answered.- “I can see you're cold, and this fog plays the deuce with the lungs. Please keep quiet; there’s no need to say anything. I'll follow where you lead.” They stood at last before the little door in the high wall of Sir William Gouldesbrough’s house. In the distance the faint rumble of London came to their ears, but there was not a soul about. Nobody saw them as Charliewood opened the door with a pass-key, explaining to Rath- bone that Sir William had given him the key in order to save his servants coming through the garden. “Tm always in and out of the house,” he explained, still with the cold and fog in his voice. They opened the door and it click- ed behind them. _ Rathbone brushed. against some _| laurel bushes. “IT say,” he said, how dark it is here! You must conduct me, Charlie- wood, up this path. Let me _ take your arm.” He took his friend’s arm, noticing with wonder how the cold seemed to | | sane that no one was prepared to be- have penetrated the bones of his host, for the big man’s whole body was' trembling. The gravel crunched beneath their , feet as they walked for thirty yards or so. Then Rathbone saw a dim light above his head. It was the lamp which hung in the porch. His feet knocked against the step. “Here we are!” Charliewood said. “Six steps and then the front door.” Once more Charliewood produced a key, opened the massive door of the | hall, and entered with his friend. “Take/off your coat,” he said, as Rathbone looked round, wonderingly, at the big, gloomy, and dimly-lit place. “This is rather miserable,.but Goldes- brough has got a little snuggery down the passage, where we shall be quite comfortable. Are you ready? Very well, then, come along.” The house seemed absolutely still, save for Charliewood’s echoing foot- steps as he led the way toward the door on the right-hand side of the wide staircase. Rathbone followed him. As he did so the somber emptiness of the place began to steal over his nerves and in- fluence them, coupled, no doubt, with the expectation of the coming inter- view. He shuddered a little, and wished that he was back again in the cosy little rooms in Jermyn street. Then a green baize door opened, they passed through, and it swung back noiselessly behind them. CHAPTER VII. England’s Great Sensation. In the course of a week or so Lon- don, and shortly afterward the whole of England, realized that a new and absorbing sensation was dawning. Perhaps there is nothing which more excites the popular mind than the sudden disappearance of anybody from society, of whatever class. It began to be realized, whispered, and hinted at in the newspapers that a young and rising barrister of good family, named Mr. Gerald Rathbone, of the Inner Temple, had suddenly vanished. It was but a year or two before that the whole of the country had been t&rilled by the sad case of a lady doctor. The event, and the ex- citement it had raised at the time, were still fresh in the public mind. And when it began to be rumored that something even more sensational than that had taken place, the press began to be on the alert. In ten days’ time such as were known of the facts of Mr. Gerald Rathbone’s apparent de- parture from ordinary life had become the topic of the hour. The newspa- pers were filled with columns of sur- mises. Hour by hour, as the evening papers of London and the provinces appeared, new theories, clues, ex- planations, filled the leader pages and the contents bills. The “Rathbone Mystery,” as it was called, absorbed the whole interest of the country. An announcement of war would have been momentarily disregarded by the man in the street while he yet remain- ed unsatisfied as to the truth about the young gentleman who seemed to have been utterly wiped out from the world of men and women, to have vanished into thin air, without a trace of his movements or a single clue as to his whereabouts. ° All that was accurately known was summed up again and again in the press and in general conversation, and it amounted to just this, and no more: Mr. Gerald Rathbone was in fairly 6 2 a 9 Alive or Dead? The Strange Disappearance of —— Rathbone. - By GUY THORNE. ; mystery had found no single indica- prosperous circumstances; he had an income of his own, was slowly but steadily climbing the laborious ladder of the bar, was popular in society, and, so far as could be ascertained, had no troubles of any sort whatever. It was shown that Rathbone was not in debt, and practically owed nothing whatever except the ordinary current accounts, which he was ac- customed to settle every quarter. He had a fair balance at the bank, and his securities, which provided him with his income, were intact. His life had been a singularly open one. His movements had never suggested any- thing secret or disreputable. His friends were all people in good cir- cumstances, and no one had ever al- leged any shady acquaintances against him. He was in perfect health, was constantly in the habit of taking exer- cise at the German gymnasium, still played football occasionally, and held a commission in the Inus of Court vol- unteers. He had never been ob- served to be downcast or despondent in any way. In short, there was no earthly reason, at any rate upon the surface, for a voluntary withdrawal on his part from the usual routine of his life. The idea of suicide was frankly scouted by both friends, acquaint- ances and business connections. Peo- ple do not destroy themselves without a real or imaginary reason, and this young man had always been regarded as so eminently healthy-minded and } lieve even that he had made away with himself in a sudden fit of mor- bidity or madness. It was shown that there had been no taint of insanity in his family for several generations. The theory of suicide was clearly un- tenable. This was the conclusion to | which jouralists, police, and the new class of scientific mystery experts | which has sprung up during the last | few years unanimously came. More- over, in the London of to-day, or even in the country, it is a most difficult thing for a man to commit suicide without the more or less immediate recovery of his remains. There was not wanting the class of people who hinted at foul play. But | that theory was immensely narrowed i by the fact that no one could have j had any motive for murdering this young man, save only a member of the criminal classes who did so for personal gain. It was quite true that he might have been robbed and his body cunningly disposed of. Such things have happened in the London of to-day. But the class of criminal who makes a practice and livelihood of robbery with violence, of attempted or actual murder, is a small class. Every member of it is intimately known to the police, and Scotland ; Yard was able to discover no single i suspicious movement of this or that | criminal who might reasonably be concerned in such an affair. More- | over, it- was pointed out that such criminals were either invariably brought to justice or, at any rate, that | the fact that some one or other un- known has committed a murder is in- variably discovered within a week or so of the occurrence. For fourteen days the hundreds of people engaged in trying to solve this tion of foul play. Where, then, was Gerald Rathbone? Was he alive? Was he dead? No- body was prepared to say. The one strange circumstance which seemed to throw a tiny light upon the mystery was this. For a fortnight or so before his disappear- ance Mr. Rathbone, usually in the habit of going a good deal to dinner parties, dances, and so on, had de- clined all invitations. Many people who had invited him to this or that function now came forward and an- nounced that their invitation had been declined, as Mr. Rathbone had said he was going out of town for a short time. Inquiries in the Temple showed that Mr. Rathbone had not been out of town at all. He had re- mained almost entirely in his cham- bers, and even his appearance in the law courts, where he had only done three actual days’ work for some few Weeks, had been less frequent than usual. Rathbone was in the habit of being attended to by a woman who came early in the morning, lit the fires, prepared his bath'and breakfast, and then swept the chambers. The wo- man generally arrived at 7 and left at 12, returning again for an hour about 6 in the evening, to make up the fires and do anything else that might be required. Rathbone either lunched in the Inner Temple hall or in one of the Fleet street restaurants. If not din- ing out, he generally took this meal at the Oxford and Cambridge club, of which he was a member. The waiters in the Temple hall said that his attendance had been not quite so regular as usual in the fortnight or so before his disappearance, but they certainly thought that they had seen him every other day or so. The woman who looked after the chambers stated that Mr. Rathbone had remained indoors a great deal More than usual, seeming to be en- grossed in law books. On several oc- casions when she had arrived at 6 in the evening she had found that he did not require his dress clothes put out, and had asked her to bring him a few sandwiches or some light food of that description, as he intended to work alene far into the night. hese slight divergences from his ordinary habits were, every one agreed, significant of something. But what that something was nobody knew, and the wild suggestions made on all sides seemed to provide no real solution. The last occasion upon which Mr. Rathbone had been seen by any one able to report the occurrence was in the early morning at breakfast. Mrs, Baker, the bedmaker, had cooked the breakfast as usual, and had asked her master if he would excuse her at- tendance in the evening, as she had a couple of orders for the Adelphi, in return for displaying the bills of the theater in a little shop she kept with her daughter in a street off Holborn, and wished to see the play. “My master seemed in his usual spirits,” the good woman had said in an interview with a member of the staff of the Westminster Gazette. “He gave me permission at once to go to the theater, and said that he him- self would be out that evening. There was no trace of anything unusual in his manner. When I arrived in the morning and opened the door of the chambers with my pass key, I went into the study and the sitting room as usual, lit two fires, turned on the bath, made a cup of tea and took it to Mr. Rathbone’s bedroom. There was no answer to my knock, and when I opened the door and went in, think- ing he was oversleeping himself, I found the bed had not been slept in. This was very unusual in a gentleman , of Mr. Rathbone’s regular habits. It would not have attracted my notice in the case of some gentlemen I have been in the habit of doing for, who were accustomed to stay out without any intimation of the fact. But 1 think it strange in the case of Mr. Gerald, always a very steady gentle- man. I waited until nearly 1 o’clock, but he did not return. I then went home and did not go to the chambers again till 6 o’clock, when I found things in the same state as before, the fires burnt out, and no trace of anybody having entered. As I left the inn I asked the porter if he had seen Mr. Rathbone, and he replied that he had not returned. The same thing | happened for the next two days, when the porter communicated with the au- thorities of the inn and an inspector of police was called in.” The interview disclosed few more facts of importance, save only one. This was that Mr. Rathbone had dressed for dinner on the night of his disappearance. His evening clothes were not in the wardrobe, and the morning suit he had been wearing at breakfast was neatly folded and placed upon a chest of drawers ready for Mrs. Baker to brush it. This seemed to show indubitably that the barrister had no thought of being absent from home that night. There the matter had rested at first. Meanwhile, as no new discovery was made and not the slightest ray of light seemed forthcoming, the public interest was worked up to fever heat. Rathbone had few relations, though many friends. His only surviving rel- ative appeared to be his uncle, a brother of his mother, who was the dean of Bexeter. The clergyman was interviewed, and stated that he gener- ally received a letter from his nephew every three weeks or so, but nothing in the most recent letter had been un- usual, and he was as much in the dark as any ordinary member of the public. This much was known to the man in the street. But in society, while the comment and amazement were no less in intensity, much more was known than the outside world suspect- ed. (To Be Continued.) Dutch Women’s Headdress and Bodice Women often possessed two head- dresses, one for Sundays and the oth- er for week days. In cold or wet weather a hood was worn stiffened with paper and having two long rib- bons, provided with golden hooks, to protect it against the wind. Above a low silk or satin bodice was worn an elaborately folded ker- chief of fine lawn or cambric, which allowed only a little of the throat to pe seen and which was fastened by brooch or ribbon. The bodice itself was mally a tight fitting laced one of white or blue sat- in. It is said that women of the lower classes frequently only took the trou- ple of unlacing this cuirass-like gar- ment once a week. The tighter the bodice the more elegant its wearer was considered, and, as a great num- ber of petticoats were de rigueur, a small waist appeared even less than it actually was. Fate of the Forgotten. Charles M. Schwab, speaking of for- gotten fame, said: “IT am reminded of a story about Westminster Abbey. “An antiquary one day visited the abbey, and found a_ stonecutter at work in the little cloisters, recutting the name of Wilson, the great tenor of Shakespeare’s day. “The antiquary began to tell the stonecutter about Wilson, how he had been Shakespeare’s friend, and Ben Johnson’s, and Kit Marlowe’s, and how all these men loved and honored him. “The stonecutter, looking up from his work, frowhed and shook his head. “‘I wish, sir,’ he said, ‘we’d knowed MAN WAS A MISFIT NOT BUILT FOR THE ORDINARY PARK BENCH. Girl Tells of More or Less Amusing Adventure in Which She was a Somewhat Unwilling. Participant. “They never think of trying to make these park benches to fit people,” said the girl who sometimes sits awhile in the park. “That is, people of ex traordinary size. The other day at about six o’clock I was sitting near the fountain at Union square when a man who must have weighed about 300 pounds and was about seven feet tall came and sat down at the other end of the bench I was on. He fitted mighty snugly in the chair—you know how those benches are divided into about six chairs—so snugly that I kept looking at him, wondering to myself how he ever was going to get up. “I looked at him till he thought J was flirting with him—imagine flirt ing with a man so large he could pitch you into the fountain if he hap- pened to take a dislike to you—and tried to flirt back. “Discovering there was nothing flirtatious about me, he began to try to get up. I was waiting for it. 1 knew what was coming. The bench stuck to him and he to it, and over ] went. “IT picked myself up and sat down again, and he tried to look as if noth ing had happened. Then very quietly. his eye on me, looking out of the cor. ner, he made a second move to get uy | The Bench Stuck to Him, and He tc It, and Over | Went. with the same result. Over I went. “When this happened a third time ] began to get a trifle tired of it, so ] got up and walked around the fountain to where a tall cop was standing. “Tf you don’t get a shoe horn,’ ] told him, ‘and pry that man out of the chair he’ll stay there all night.’”— |N. Y. Press. GOLFERS’ CURIOUS DRIVE. Playing from a Tree-Top—Ball That Bounded Back to Starting Point. An odd incident occurred during a | match at the Golf Club de Paris, near Versailles, France. Two players in the open amateur championship were | at the fourteenth tee, when one sent his drive up a tree. The ball re. mained fixed between two branches; a caddi¢, climbing up, discovered its presence there. A great consultation arose as to what should be done. The commit: tee was hastily summoned and stood beneath the spreading branches of the tree, much in the fashion in which St. Louis dispensed justice in a primitive France. Evidently the ball was not out of bounds. Finally the judges decreed that either a new ball should be dropped on the tee, counting two, or the ball should be played from the spot. To save the point, the golfer bravely shinned up the tree and played his ball from the embedding fork, making, indeed quite a stroke. Later in the afternoon from the same tee I witnessed a curious inci- dent. The player had driven, and | his ball, striking the sand box of the ladies’ tee, 50 yards ahead, bounded back to its starting place. The player’ jthen drove into the bunker with his second shot, which is also something of a performance. | ad Potatoes Made Into Pencils. Potatces are now being used in Germany in place of cedar wood for the manufacture of lead pencils. The product is a trifle heavier than cedar, but the pencils are the same size as those now in use, and the cost is much less. According to recent sta- tistics, the export from Germany to foreign countries equaled 15,166 tons, with a total number of pencils at 3,033,200,000. The cedar wood used at present in the manufacture of lead pencils is expensive and the quantity limited, while on the other hand, the cultivation of potatoes is advancing each year. For these reasons this in- vention will ‘mark the beginning of a new era in the production of lead pencils. Dog That Catches Fish. Nick Craighead, a Callaway county farmer, has a fine shepherd dog that has made quite a reputation for itself by catching fish in several small streams near his place. The dog is enabled to see the fish because of the clear water that flows in the streams. He waits on the bank until a fish draws near the surface and then with a leap and dive into the stream grabs \the finny quarry before it has time to swim away. he was such a swell afore we run that} The dog has made such a name for drainpipe through him.’” Running for office costs as much as running an automobile. himself that many persons drive to e Craighead farm just to see the imal in his piscatorial act.—Kansas {City Times. Painting for Profit No one will question the superior svoeran: of well-painted property. ‘he question that the property-owner asks is: ‘Is the appearance worth the cost?” Poor paint is for temporary appear- ance only. Paint made from Pure Linseed Oil and Pure White Lead is for lasting appearance and for protection. It saves repairs and replacements cost- ing many times the paint investment. ‘he Dutch Boy trade mark is found only on kegs containing Pure White Lead made by the Old Dutch Process. SEND FOR BOOK “A Talk on Paint,” gives valuable infor. mation on the paint subject. Sent free upon request, NATIONAL LEAD COMPANY in whichever of the follow- ing cities is nearest you: New York, m, Buffalo, Oleveland, Cincinnati, Chi St. Louis, | Philadel: Oo,)}, Pittsburgh his Bi ENational Lead & Oil Col Servants and Eggs. Mrs. Phelps Stokes, in an address in New York, said of the servant ques- tion: “Are there not too many mistresses who treat their servants as the lady did in buying eggs? “This lady entered a shop and said: “‘Have you eggs?’ “Yes, madam,’ said the shopman. “ Well,’ said the lady, ‘I want a doz- en absolutely fresh eggs for myself, and——’ She touched the arm of her maid, who stood beside her—— ‘anda half-dozen not quite so fresh for my maid here.’” USED BY THE DOCTORS. Ninety Per Cent of the Drugs Pre- scribed Ane Patent Medicines. Despite the opposition of physicians, especially of those whose experience has been neither far reaching nor profitable, to “patent” medicines, nine- ty per cent of all drugs that physi- cians use are put up and compounded by manufacturing concerns,—are, in fact, “patent” medicines just as truly as if they were advertised in the newspapers. The average doctor knows little or nothing of pharmacy and is, there- fore, glad to depend on the very medi- cines, which in public he condemns, just as he is obliged in many cases to depend on the diagnosis of the pa- tient himself, even while publicly de- crying what he calls “self-diagnosis.” How rapid has been the growth of the professional use of “patent” or “pro- prietary” medicines is shown in an article written for the Journal of the American Medical Association for September 29, 1906, by A. Jacobi, M. D., LL. D. He relates that 50,000 pre- scriptions, compounded in several drug stores were carefully examined. From 1850 to 1870 no prescription was found for “patent” or “proprietary” medicines. In 1874 but one prescrip- tion in 1,500 called for ready-to-use remedies. Between 1875 and 1880 the number calling for “patent” or “pro- prietary” medicines equalled two per cent of the total. This increased to 5 per cent in the period between 1880 and 1890. In 1895 it was 12 per cent, in 1898 it was 15 per cent, and in 1902- 1903 was from 20 to 25 per cent. Dr. Jacobi says that in a large store he was assured that 70 per cent of the prescriptions were for “patent” or “proprietary” medicines, and this probably is approximately the correct proportion at. the present time. From this it would seem that if the “patent” and “proprietary” medicines are good enough for physicians to prescribe in seven cases out of ten they are good enough for family use in cases of necessity and where the symptoms are well known and as easily under- stood by the people as by the doc tors. ' The more mulish a man is the more will his express end be developed. Ask your lumber dealer about CEN ASCO best substitute for Shingles. amie ROOFING CITY SASH AND DOOR co., Minneapolis, Minn, = oo