Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, February 25, 1882, Page 3

y ] - ¢4 wine Wagon Co,----Farm and Spring Wago Deere & Comp'y. n Iy MANUFACTURERS OF PLOWS, HO 1 [ LIN Wholesale Dealers in AGRIGULTURAL IMPLEMES Council Bluffs, lowa. WUSTERN AGERENTS F O | 118, Deere & Mansur Co.----Corn Planters, Stalk Outters, &, Moling Pump Co.----Wood and Iron Pumps, Wheel & Seeder Co.----Fountain City Drills and Seeders, HMochanicsburg Mach, Co.----Baker Grain Drills, Shawnee Agricultural Co,----Advance Hay Rakes, Joliet Manufacturing Cu.----Eureka Power and Hand Shellers, Whitman Agricultural Co,----Shellers, Road Scrapers, &c., Moline Scale Co.----Victor Standard Scales, A, 0. Fish----Racine Buggies, AND DEALERS IN All Articles Required to Make 'a Complete Stock. SEND FOR CATALOGUES. Address All Communications to DEERE & COMPANY, Council Bluffs, lowa. a STEELE, JOHNSON & GO, WHOLESALE GROCERS AND JOBBERS IN Jmom Flour, Salt, Sugars, Canned Coods, and All Grocers" Supplies. A Full Line of the Best Brands of CIGARS MANUFACTURED TOBAGCO. Agents for BENWOOD NAILS AND LAFLIN & RAND POWDER (0. W. B. MILLARD. B. JOHNSON. MILLARD & JOHNSON, COMMISSION AND STORAGE! 1111 FARNHAM STREET, NEB. OMAHA, REFERENOES : OMAHA NATIONAL BANK, STEELE, JOHNSON & CO., TOOTLE MAUL & CO. THE JELM MOUNTAIN G-O1LD AND SLl,.V HR Mining and Mlllmg Company. Working Capital P R A = = - 800,000, «Capital & R e TR Tt b > > -7 81,000000 Par Valuo of Shares, - - 82000, STOCK FULLY PAID UP AND NON ASSESSAB LE Mines Located in BRAMEL MINING DISTRICT. OFEFICERS: DR. J. L THOMAS, Prosident, Cummins, Wyoming, WM. E. TILTON, Vic E.N. HARWOOD, Secretary, Cummins, Wyoming. A G resident, Cummins, Wyoming LUNN, Treasurer, Cummins, TRUSTERS: Wyoming Dr. J. L. Thomas, Louis Millor W. 5. Bramel, A.G Dunn E. N. Harwood. Francis Leavens, Goo. H. Falos. Lewis Zolman, Dr. J. C. Watkins GEO. W. KENDALL, Author zed Agent for Sale of Stock: Bov 40 Amaha Neb, nof2mebm FOSTER &GRAY, —WHOLESALE— LUMBER, COAL & LIME, On River Bank, Bet, Farnham and Douglas, Sts., ONMAELA - - - NNEB. P. BOYER & JO., ~——DEALERS IN— HALL'S SAFE AND LOCK CO. Fire and Burglar Proo &S A EFTE S VAULTS, LOCK TS, & C. 1020 Farnham Street, ONMAELA . - N'EB. V] | I 4 i 4 ) ! O rH VIMES N Mr M i 1 ) W 1 1 1 t | Adien I'«ixt what 1 ! 1 hear M 1l 1 1 Whether thy ee or word Lile me, t 1 o Tn duty to his Indy's eye o hit voic Such orbs with kin ler light are filled, The nerer we ad ¢ And pouting 1i s, if bravely stilled, Will Lanish us no more [ Phe Spectator On The Ice, Mother, way I o out skate Yes, my darling Julia, But don't you try th - fizure 8, it will surary fool you, tning Just as v ou make the lig whirl » show your spr boys will Sleigh-ridiog on her bustle, THE DEACON’S STRIKE. The deacon had struck something at last. the gulch had been miles aw And, though secluded from the nearest post —though the deacon was never known to have other compan jon than his ragged, gray little burro —the news had spread. The wind, ruffling the green plumes of the spruce above the deacon’s head,sas he bent over the glittering quartz laid bare by his pick, may haye whispered it abroad; or the crested jay, furtively keen, round eyes topmost boughs, may have borne it afar. A: any rate, the deacon’s strike was a longer. Singly, and by twos or threes, the prospectors came, and, following in their footsteps, came the boom. Then, as if by magic, there arose Mountain City—a city of dug-outs and canvas tents, straggling up and down the nar- row gulch and terminating in a nucleus of a few rudely-built log houses at its head. The deacon, whose original discov ery had called into existence this city of a day, wits in no wise elated at his success, nor, after the fashion of the wayward prospector, given to con- vivialty thereat. He altered not a title of his ways, but, silent and self con- tained as ever, pursued his daily task of opening the lead with the same pa tient endeavor with which he might have followed the plow over the rugged hills of his native New Eu- gland state. Begarding the deacon in some sense as its sponser, the camp had not been unkindly disposed towards the morose old man. It had made many friendly and sociable efforts at affiliation, bur, being invariably repulsed, had de- as it became tacitly understood its life and his held little in common. For it was evident the deacon re- garded with disfavor the recreations of the lively camp. The enticing straing issuing from the dance-house stirred not his sluggish pulse. He carefully avoided the velvet stroke of the ‘“‘tiger’s” paw and held himself aloof from the allurements of the ““Miner's Retreat,” where nightly a coterie of choice spirits met for a genial game of “freezs-out,” and a sociable discussion of the affairs of the camp. Natutally the deacon’s self-elected isolation drew upon him many com- ments, Many were the wild and im- probable conjectures as to his history, but as of this no man knew one iota it continued to wrap in mystery as watehing him with from the *spruce’s secret no inscrutable as the deacon’s hard- favored face A little thrill of excitement ran through the camp, therefore, when it was rumored the deacon had sold the ““Green Mountain Boy” for a meie nominal sum. Nor was it allayed when one morning the deacon packed his_little tent upon the grayj burro and took his departure from their midst, Away from the haunts of man, in the solitude of the hills, the deacon seemed 1n a more congenial element, His tent was finally pitched near the snmmit of the range on a rugged mountain side, scarred and furrowed by the hand of Time, like the dea- con’s own harsh countenance. And here daily from sun to sun he prosc- cuted, in’ his slow determined way, his search for the hidden silver vein beneath, Seated near his camp fire one even- ing, he was quietly resting after the labors of the day, distributing, as was his custom, bits of bresd and bacon to the gray burro. Suddenly the burro pricked his long ears, and the deacon glancing around saw a man appoach- ing slowly from below. As he drew near he recognized, with anything but pleasure, a young man who had been the liveliest of the lively camp, His dress, different from that of the ordi- nary miner, was stained and torn, and his face, haggard and uunken, was turned upon the deacon with eager expectancy. “I am famishing,” he exclaiméd, abruptly, dispensing with any saluta- tion, “Will you give me something to eat?” For reply the deacon silently mo- tioned to the viands still beside the smoldering fi The other waited for no more, but set to at once. And as the deacon noticed his tremulous hand and the avidity with which he ate, something Like compassion erept over his hard features “From the camp!” he Icuulh,im the other had sutisfied his hunger. *“Yes. 1 left three have eaten nothing since till now My departure was rather sudden, as f«u oun judge,” he added with a forced anch The deacon glanced at him_inquir- ingly, The other avoided his gaze and fixed his eyes in a sullen stare upon the fire, asked, somewhat days ago, 1 riner | \ 0 By A T AT - e fior \ ivo been bad | bu t that, T t | 80, L V't believe 1 Il you a1 don't | and now il t u | n weary tone as he arose, trer | partly with excitement, partly with ex haustion, “Go/ ' esaid the deacon; “where t L don't know and I don't cire d the utter hopelossness of his voice it to the deacon’s heart. said he quietly, an avd let me think.’ The other foll back into his place by the fire und fixed his gaze once more upon it. r & time neither spoke, the deacon absently continued to feed bits of broken bread to the burr “Deacon,” the young man_ sail at length, ““I don’t expect any leniency from you. And yet it was kind of you to let me sit here and eat, and 1 wish you would believe meo innocent of this last.” ““Why should T not?" the deacon re- plicd, as much in self-communion as in answer to the other. Then, |\w usual harsh manner, he added Laps you now see, young man, th folly of the life you led over there, A and nodded his head toward the camp, Reitead “Dow’t moralize, deacon not to me, at least, Tt is too late for that now,"” the other sullenly replied. “Too late! It i8 never too late!” said the deacon, with energy. “It's all very well for you to talk that way, deacon,” said the other, despondently: ‘‘but, then, you don't know how hard it is for one to get up after he's been down.” “No!” said the dcacon, ina curi- ously interrogatory tone. “No, "the other replied, growing warmer as he spoke; “‘and, then, you don't know what temptations such as myself have cither, and you've never had to go through what I have thrown out to shift for myself, for my mother died when I was a child, and my father——" “‘Your father!” said the deacon, in- quiringly, as the other stopped ab ruptly. “‘Do not speak of him!" he said, ve- hemently, as he arose and walked to and fro. “It's little enough 1 have to thank him for. ‘Like father, like son!" that’s what I have to remember him by, for I've heard nothing clse about him since I can remember. He was bad enough, Tsuppose. I never saw him, and I don’t know; maybe, after all, he wasn’t as bad as I was told,” he adied, in a softer tone. The deacon followed his mnervous movements with a curious gaze, not a little surprised at his vehemence. “I'm not one to judge too severcly, youog man.” said he, as the other reseated himself. * What's your name?”’ “amos Sethwell,” the other replied, and, raising his eyes, saw the deacon’s fixed upon him attentively. And 1t may have been mere fancy on his part, but as the fittul camp fire flared up brightly for a moment, he thought a curious spasm contracted the rigid line of the deacon’s mouth. It was only for an instant, for the deacon quickly averted his eyes and turned them upon the peaks above gleaming softly in the light of the rising moon. A loug silence ensued. The young man gazed despondingly in the fire, the deacon absently at the gleaming peaks, 80 absently that it was plain he saw them not. Far beyond their snowy domes his thoughts had wan- dered back to his native town, and a pariy of wild young men. And, though it had been long ago, it seem- ed but yesterday as he saw them dis perse and followed the footsteps of one returnlng home - followed him as he entered the empty house, and saw him take up a little note lying open on the table which told him that his wife, driven to dispair by his dissolute ways, had left his home forever, and that henceforth their ways lay separ- ate, for never did she wish his unborn child brought under his evil influence. Perhaps it had needed some shock, sharp and sudden like this, to check the downward course of his life and rouse his better instincts. He wasnot one, however, to steer a middle course —he must be one thingor the other— and, us he shook the dust of his native place from his feet, so also he cast away the shackles of his ill-spent life, and became instead a cold, silent man, shut up in his shell of stern self-re. liance. And so he had remained through many a weary year of wan- dering to #nd fro, until he was now a lonely and morose old man. Perhaps the sight of this younger man, already started on the down- ward path, where he had been before; perhaps his despouding words and the sullen despair written 1o his face, or perhaps something more than all these stirred the well of loving kind- ness hidden so deep in the deacon’s rugged breast that no sign of it ever reached his impassible face. For, when he at length spoke, it was in a tone very different from his usual harsh one, “‘Amos, gointo the tent and lie down on my blankets, I will join you presently,” ‘“‘Deacon,” said the other, slowly, as he arose, ‘I didn’t expect any such kindness from you, of all men, 1 I thank you -—" und, breaking off, he hurried into the tent. Long after the camp fire had burned to ashes, the deacon still sat beside it, with his head in his hands and his oyes fixed on nothing. The gray Lurro once or twice nibbled softly at his sleeve, but, eliciting no attention, d slcwly off. Then upon his rovorie broke the heavy breathing of the sleeper in the tent. Glancing n, he saw him lying on the ground with one arm under his head and his face lalf covered by ome slim hand, After a pause he con- | Moved by a sudden impulse, the dea- DonUARY 2D 1804, A you. Whon T picked it up T 1 pon 1 | . ) hit 1 ) } { por you 1 ) ! wre to | indly v ' 1 yusafi wrsu 0 | \ n ! 1 how i ke 1 1t tl | \in miie is and has been afof course W it. | for many a yea (3] I'his 18 th It | life, a but hoasi 1 1] fiv me we 1 ot vasy, but now | you to sharo it with me | nd th \ \ ni y. | Do you ly mean to give mo a A low b \ urm f 1w, deacon?” asked the other with [assont came fr he ot il A br ¢ fac | deacon heard ity and his hmn\ I Ldo," said \ faco and grasped the breast Here's my hand upon it,” and, ex- | el shiet sively, as he | nding s hand, he held the siim one | t { faced them of the young man in an earnest grasp. | he said, in a low, firm From that day forward the twain [ voic you know me. You know worked toge on the rugged hill- | that never once have T left the sido. Tho deacon never atluded to|straight and narrow path to join in the cause ot their meeting, but, day | the abommations over there,” point by day, set the force of an example of [ing to the camp, patient, persovering labor—an exam- [ *That's so, deakin,” said the spokos the other was not slow to follow. | man, a little taken back at this ab-{ P s deacon noticed this with silent {rapt’ address. “We all know you | satisfaction, and noted also how the | have followed the straight trail, and healthful exercise in the bracing | that your ways wasn't exactly our mountain wir tilled out the hollows in the younger face, and crased its marks of dissipation Gradually the two . were drawn together by a strong bond of affection all the strovger, perhaps, from its undemonstrativeness, for the youny man beeamo imbued with the silent ways of the solitary old man, and un consciously fell into thom himself. Yet there were times when, sitting at night by the tire before the hittle tent, the two spoke of the results of their lahors and their hopes of ‘strik- ing it,” wnd of how, in that event, their future lives shol be shaped. For it was tactily understood they were to be spent together. At such times, too, the youug man often spoke of his past, dwelling with a curious pertinacity upon the father whom he had never seen, and always ending by saying, in a softened voice, ““He mightn’t have been so bad, aftor To these retrospections the dencon always listened in silenco be- fore the five in his old musing way, and falling into fits of abstraction which lasted long a! tha other had censed speaking. “Amos,” said the deacon one eve- ning, “Tam expecting the final pay ment on the ‘Green Mountain Boy. 1t ought to come on the coich the day after to-morrow, and ns we are run- ning short in the wru) line, suppose we go to the city, get the money, and lay 1n a new supply “As you will, deacon,” the other roplied. And 50 in the mornivg they set out, driving the ‘burro’ before them. Towards ey “the city,” ning, as 1hey drew near Amos began to betray signs of uneasiness. “Deacon,” said he, ‘‘you never thought it mig u get us both into trouble if T was seen in the city after —what T told you that first night, you remember?” “True, boy,” the deacon replied, as ho stopped still. I had forgotten about it.” “It would be best, I think,” Amos continued, indicating tho spot with his hand as he spoke, “for me to camp to-night in this listle gulch off the trail. You can go on to the city and T will await your return in the morning.” So thoy soparated and the deacon went on alone. It was late when he arrived; the express oftico was still open, however, pendiny the arrival of the coach, then due. After having waited vainly for its coming for some little time, he walked away and sought lodgings for the night. The next morning he found the city in excitemont, The incoming coach had been “*heldup” the night before by n single road agent, and the treas- ure box rifled of its contents, and par- ties were even now in search of the depredator. Hurrying to the expross oftice, the deacon learned it was true, and learned also his expected package had been taken with the rest. The loss bore hard upon the deacon for it had been nll he had except the little now in his possession, This, however, he now expended in provi. sions, and, packing the burro, set vut to rejoin his companion, Arrived at the spot where the two had parted ho found no one. Vainly he shouted and waited; there was no respone ‘‘He_ itten tired of waiting, and réturncd alone to the tent,” thought the deacon, and, so thinking, hurried onward to the tent also. But he was again disappointed—there wus no one there, Mechanicaliy the deacon drew off the pack and released the burro to graze, Then, for the first time, he begin to connect the robbery of the conch with his partner's disappesr- ance. ““He could not do it—he would not!” muttered the deacon, as he walked to and fro, shouting at inter- vals and listening vainly for a reply. And yet for all his protestations the thought would obtrude itself, causing him to walk about in ngituv.ion, and mutter again and again, *‘He would not; he would mnot,” And still he was more shocked than surprised, when at nightfall a party came up the little trail with his partner in their midst. “‘Deacon,” said the spokesman, as they gathered about the little tent, “wo brought him hero at his last re- quest—for it's a clear case against him. He was caught skulking about the trail this morning, and we found this on him,” and the speaker extend ed a package. Mechanically the demcon took it, and saw it was still sealed, and saw also that it was the package he had been expeoting. Thun in a dazed way he looked at his partner standing with his eyes fixed on the grouna, and the old, “sullen, despondent look on his fa Raising his oyes, he met the deacon’s for an instant, and read the horror in his face. “T seo you, too have judged me he d, in a voice 8> low as to be nearly maudible. “Well, so be it; 1 can but die like a man and an imnocent one, too; for, deacon,” and he faced the old man with a steady look, I found that puckuuu lying in the trail norning. had grown tired of waiting and ntarlud towards the camp wa, *Yes," svid the deacon, ‘¢ wore not my ways. the folly of it all, and had long ago found out hife was not given us to be frittered away Like that; that it was a terrible earnest thing to be fought and eomquered and - tramplod under feet, and be made subservient to the end, your ways r, men, I saw tho dea- wore si r twenty odd years,” con continued, as the others lent- ~“*for twenty odd yoars I have walked as straight as it was in me to do, keeping steadily on without friend or companion until-—he came. Then 1 saw what a wreek ho had made of hife, and thought I might set him right and stand his friend, and m; be in time he might-—ho might at least be a friond to me.” The deacon’s steady voice trembled slightly us he paused, and his auditors still kept silence, hold by not any elo- quence in his speech, but by the grim earnestness of his manner. Still facing them, he moved to the young maun's side and laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘“‘He is innocent,” said, in the samo steady voico. T feet—it—I know it, and you shall not harm him. But if he were'not”"—and the deacon throw one arm about hi and shielded him from them with his broad breast “if he were guilty of all you say, “.u should not harm him while I v the breath of life, for, men, 1 am his fathei!” For an instant his auditors gazed at the deacon’s gaunt figure upraised bo- fore the other. Then a bluff' voice said, softly, “Boys, we'd botter git,” and the two were left alone, * * *e * * Half way down the mountain side the leador of the little pacty suddenly stoppes Boys,” o exclamed abruptly, ‘what will the camp say to all thist” There was a moment’s silence ere one replied, uneasily. ““They will suy we're a ot of soft hearted fouls!” “Let them!"” defiantly said the bluff voice of tho leader. *“‘Let them say what thoy please, for, boys, there ain’t any of this crowd going to part them two now.” But the camp didn't say so at all, The camp instead worked itself up to such a state of enthusinsm over the deacon’s pluck and drank so many and such hearty healths to the deacon and his newly-found son, that the re. sources of the “‘Miner’s Rotreat” were well nigh exhausted. For, upon their return, the real culprit had been cap- tured and his last confession revealed the truth, * he * * * Magically, Mountain sprung into existence - like magic it faded away. The ‘‘Green Mountain Boy” had proved to be a *‘blind lead,” the mines had failed, und the camp was abandoned. The tents have long since vanished, with their tenants, and only the moldering log houses, * City had their dirt roofs fallen in, mark the site of the once prosperous camp. With the rest the little tent upon the mountain side has disuppeared, and its inmates have gone, no one knows whither, most likely to follow the beacon light of Fortune westward over the mountain tops. But, shough the silver mine hidden never to be discovered, yot the dea- con was richer by far. For, in the reverent affoction of the son he had saved and reclaimed, he had struck a vein of pure gold yielding more and more abundantly, and never tp be ex- hausted. WOMAN'S TRUE FRIEND. A friend in need is a friend indeed. This none can deny, especially when assistance is rendered when one is sorely afthicted with disease, more par- ticularly thase complaints and weak- nesses 80 common to our female popu- lation. Every woman should know 1hat Electric r! ers are woman's true friend, and will positively restore her to health, even when all other reme- dies fail. A single trial always proves our assertion, 'They are pleasant to the taste, and only cost fifty cents per bottle. (2) Sold by Ish & McMahon, Genins ewarded: The Story of the Sewing Machine, A handsome little pamphlet, blue and gold cover, with numerons engravings, will be GIVEN AWAY to any sdult pers 1 ealling for it, ataiy branch or sub-office of ‘The Siuger Ma: ufacturing Com patiy, oF Wol bo sent by wmail, post paid, to Ay person living at o distauce from our offices. The Singer Manufacturing Co., 34 Union Square, YORK, feb1s ddw 'W. J. CONNELL, ATTORNEY - AT - LAW, Orpios—kront Rooms (up stairs) in Hanscom Principal Offico, NEW in the mountain's breast was destined | | | 1] " t Wy v the mot 4 Couxor Buupvs and OmAna, . #RUIAL EVERY LINE OF ROAD niraton tho Continant tro the Misourt CHICAGO ROCK ISLAND & PA. ATLWAY wnt ¢ track In ronchoe th “cloan mc Aty entllated d n roomy PuLL A1 £, and 0urown world-famous which 1oals are sorved of ure nce, ot the low Fate of ™ RACH, With aimple time for hoalt onjoyment. 'hrough Cars bt ¢o, Peoris, Ml waukeo and Missourl K nts; and cloe con noctions at all pointa of intorsection with osher roads., We ticket (do not forg aco of fmportance i Kan Wyoming, Utah Washiniton T e Moxico. An | horal arrangoments rog: 18 DAGEAZO A any other line, and ratos of fars alwnis ast ow a8 "w\-vvyuflhuw, who turnish but o tithe 0 the cam. ort. ¥ to even ka, Blacl wda, Callfornia, Colorado, Arizona fif ar Doga and tackle of sportamun fros icketa, ninps and folders atall privcia in tho Unitod States and Can R CABL AT JOHN e JonN Sranier P odidont W. S DrisieR, Sec. and Tre THE NEBRASKA MANUFACTURING CO Linco'n, Ncb MANUFACTURERS OF Corn Planters, Harrows, Farm Rollers, Bulky Hay Rakes, Bucket Elevating Wina~ mills, &c. Wo are prepared ta do job work and manufac- turi g for other parties Addres all ordore NEBRASKA MANUFACTURING CO. LiNcoLN, Nk, 1anmo-8 “TRUTH ATTESTED. SomeImportantStatements of Wel Known People Wholly Verifiod. Tn order that the public may fully realize the genuinenoss of the statoments, a8 woll as the powerand value of the article of which they speak, we publish hor. with tho fac-simile sigus- whose sincerity is beyond ques 1onials I8 abso- nounce bo Ig- lute, nor can the facts thoy nored ONAIIA, NEB, . 1. Waruen & Co DEAR Si:—| hivo froquently used Warner's SRR e Vi attendant upon soveie iheunatic attacks, and have always derived benetit thorefrom, 1 have also used the Safo Norvine with satistactory re- wulta, 1 consider theso modiclucs worthy ot conflidesco a\"z Hetlon/ Doputy Treasurer a, Nin , Moy 24, 1581 Rochester, N. Y.: x (your Safe Kidney and Livor Curo this spring as & Iver Invigorator, and 1find it tho bost romedy I over triod. I have used 4 bottles, and it has made me feel better than ever I did before in the spring. U. P. R. Shops, May' 24, 1881, May 24, 1881, OnALA, 11, . WARNRR & Co.: Sins:—For more than 1o y ars I have suffered much in onvenience from combined kidney and Tivor aiseascs, \nd have boon unablo to work, my urin y org 1w also being affcted 1 triod & ront many modicince and dogtors, but & grow worso and wore day by day. I was told I had = Bright's Discaso, and 1 wished mysclt doad it T could not have speedy reliof. 1 took your Safe Kidney wnd Livor Curg, kiowing nothing clse Wi ovor known o curo th and 1 have not been disappointed, Ths modicine has cured mo, and I am porfoc ly well today, entircly through your Safe Kidney and Liver Cure 1 wish you all succ s in wll)“uhlllg this v.luablo remedy through (ha world A o perr Thewonty of equally stre By Cf Bl I’ Gu4os whoro' Rops. wag abAg: acE€éd~-tave reon voluntarily given, showing the remcskable y wer of Warner's Safo’ Kidney and gvurCrre ol d seases of the kidnoys, liver e 1t any ore who reads this trouble remember the gread L2 T. JACKSON FLANF ! (A Graduate from the Univereity of Pennayi- vania at Philadelphia of the Cluss of 1840.) Tenders his profossional sorvices tothe citizens of Omaha and all others noeding the same, pre- dicating his claim therefor from 40 years' ex perience, sixteon years of which time he spent in “outh America, from which country he hus just roturned, gaining whilst in the provinces mans romedies’ for various discascs common to this country from the natives of the sau e, Tho Doctor makes o specialty of all Chronie Discascs, particularily those of females, He may bo found at his rooms at tho Plantors’ House, ¢ ruer of Dodge and Sixteonth Sire n23eodlw&me snd® = PILES! PILES! PILES! A Sure Cure Found at Lastl Anucik TEn, Jeed Mot 1uLIu‘ na Ulcerated Pilos has been discovered by Dr, iiam, (an Indian remedy,) called Dr. William Indian Olptment. A singlo box haa cured the worst chronic cases of 26 or 80y eard standing, No one need suffer five minutes atter applying this wondorful soothing medicine, Lotions, {nstru- ments and electuaries do more harm than good, Williaw’s Olntment absorbs the tumors, allays the intense itching, (particulaaly at night after gotting warm in bed,) acts a8 & poultice, gives in- stant and painless reliof, aud is prepared only tor piles, itching of the private parts, and for noth ing olse, ficad what tho o J. M Cotiuberry of Cle and says about Dr, Willism's Indian Pile Olnt. it 1 hiave used scores of Piles cures, and it sfords me p easure to sy thatl have never found ‘uything which gave such immediate aud perma ent rellof as Dr. Wiliiam's indian Ointment. For sl by all drugylsts or miled on recolph 1106, $1.00, HENRY & CO.. Prop'rs, CLEVELAND, Omio, . ¥ Goodman (ot Kor slo by ¢ v Nebraska Land Agen DAVIS & SNYDER |605 Flrnh.m 8t, ... Omaha, Nebra s e e r..'nl"'“o’.m Vargains 1o improved farms, ] sow brick_bullding, N, W, coroer Ftteouth nd i srobam Strocte, Jiuaba city proverty . 0. ¥.§DAVIS WESSTER ENYDERY Land Com's U. P,