The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 10, 1895, Page 15

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MARCH 10, 1895. 15 CHAPTER V. | “I wish to goodness,”” remarked the Rev. Sigismund Taylor, rubbing the bridge ot his nose with the corner of the Manual, “that the vicar had never introduced au- ricular confession. It may be in accord- ance with the practice of the Primitive Church, but—one does meet with such very curious cases. There’s nothing the least like it in the Manual.” He opened the book and searched its | pages over again. “It'sa poor Manual,” said Mr. Taylor, throwing it down and putting his hands in the pockets of his cassock. ‘“Poor girl! She was quite distressed, too. I must have something to tell her when she comes next week.’ Mr. T vior had, in face of the difficulty, | taken time to consider, and the penitent | had gone away in suspense. To represent one’s self as a dressmaker—well, there was nothing ver; ageous in that; it was unbecoming, but venial, to tell sundry fibs by way of supporting the assumed charac- ter—the Mz as equal to that; but the restof the ¢ »sure was the erux. Wrong, no doubt, was the conduct—but how wrong? That made all the ¢ there followed anot to be done? about that s enton him, i Al- nd- ed him to consult no- nd decide for her himself. “T've he had said, wiping an incipient teardrop: and. al- 1gh Mr. Taylor told her the individ- ing and the office everything, n rather gratified. Thinking n the open_ air might clear his le him better to grapple very thorny question, he chanaed is cassock for a long leaving the rd Confessor, Park Lane and along the Row. several people he knew, and women., Mrs. Marland attended by two young men, he saw old Lord on hi S parson, he w pre- He both a aylor as long till he r ntine, where stood s ites drinking in the fresh breeze. But 1d not blow his vuzzle out of i crime or merely an for a few the breeze could lings been or be- man? Moreover, these distinetly ts the confession had been mplete. He was ashamed rse it was his business to on full and exhaus: 5 d that at the moment it h and candid—an un- Yet those points d cure. uld only ple ed tho I wish a little more abont human nature Taylor. He was think on of human it knew next to nothing of it. apped- him_on the shoulder, tart, he turned around. A man, in a new frock coat and a »od by him, smiling athim. old fellow!” cried Tay- > do you spring from?” ined that he wasup in town 1to meet rst day! d. vou the fi ” he lie had been t , although ime counts ‘there, very r. For the last two Iy met. , my uncle wants me . or something, so I o have a look into it.” hat take a month ?” “Look here, old fellow, I've got nothing else to do—I don’t see why I shouldn’t stretch it to three mont! Besides, 1 spend some time with my an- ‘With your ancestors? *‘In the British Musenm; I am writing a book about them. Queer lot some of them 5 course, T am_specially in- a Merceron, but I suppose of her.” Taylor confessed his ignorance, and h r walked him up > he talked on his Merceron was always now anything about the Pool was interesting; for there one reason for his visit to London which he had not disclosed. Nettie W d when he met her one day, in dropped a 1 which seemed to imply that the other Agat as often in London. Nettie tried to recall her words, but the mischief was done and Charlie became more than ever convinced that he would grow rusty if he staid always at Langbury Court. In_ fact, he would suffer it no longer, and to town he went. For a while Sigismund Taylor listened with more than a e interest to Charlie’s story, but it chan 1t one word caught his notice. “She comes out of the temple,” sald Charlie, in a voice of hushed reverence, with which he was wont to talk of the un- happy lady. “Out of where?” asked Mr. Taylor. “The temple. Oh, I forgot. The temple "—and Charlie gave a description which need not be repeated. Temple! Temple! of a temple lately t Wherehad he heard Mr. Taylor cudgeled his brains. Why , she had spoken of a temple. She said they met in atemple. It was a strange coincidence; the word had struck him at the time. But then ev period, these rial or mere rybody knows that, at a certain mmon enough to put up sical ereetions as 1 memo- s an ornament to pleasure rounds. It must be a mere coincidence. ut—Mr. Tavlor stopped short. “What's up,” asked Charlie, who had finished his narrative, and was now study- ing the faces of the ladies who rode past. “Nothing,"” answered Mr. Taylor. And really it was not much, taken by itself—entirely unworthy of notice; even taken in conjunction with the temple, of no real significance that he conld see. Still, it was a whimsical thing that, as had just struck him, Charlie’s: specter should be named Agatha. But it came to nothing; how could the name of Charlie’s specter have anything to do with that of his peni- nt?. wl’resently Charlie, too, fell into silence. He beat his stick moodily against his leg and looked glum and absent. “Ah, well,” hesaid at last, *‘poor Agatha was hardly used; she paid part of the ebt we owe woman. : Mr. Taylor raised his brows and smiled at this gloomy misogynistic sentiment. He had the perception to g p in a moment what it indicated. His young friend was, or had lately been, or thought he was likely to be, a lover, and an un- bappy one. But he did not press Charlie. Coniessions were no luxury to him. Presently they began to walk back, and Charlie, saying he had to dine wnh'\ ctor Sutton, made an appointment to see Taylor ) S Y O | rather dull for | Ma: tailed coat, puton | struck | was | d to the young | enough that he | D Wfl»‘m@@ o)) = & h o2 CHRSIOw o ARVESHY RePs SO SR e o — e s Gplew Mrs. Marland still in her seat. sat down by | Meanwhile, that gentleman himself was S surprised and pleased to | telling Agatha Glyn a very humorous story. hear that Charlie was in town. Agatha did not laugh. ‘Suddenly she in- “I left him at home in deep dumps. | terrupted him. ; You've never been to Langbury Court, “Why don’t yon ask me more about it ?”’ have you? | “T thought you'd tell me if you wanted Taylor shook his he | me to know,’” he answered. 1ch a sweet old p! But, of course, | “You are the most insufferable man. young man, with nobod Don’t you care in the least what I do or where T go?’ but his mother and just one or two slow 3 1 ‘ “‘Got perfect confidence in | Calder politel: you,” said +‘Oh, a run’ll do him good.” “Yes; he was quite moped”; and Mrs. | “I don’t deserve it.” 1d glanced at her companion. She | “Oh, I dare say not, but it's so much wanted only a v little encouragement | more comfortable for me.” to impart her suspicions to him. It must, | *I disappeared—simply disappeared—for in justice to Mr: rland, be remembered | a fortnight, and you've never asked where that she had alv ind the simplest | I went, or what I did or—or anything.” explanation of C devotion to the| ‘‘Haven’t1? Where did you go?"” Pool hard to accept, and the most elabo-| “I can’t tell you.” rate demonstration of how a Canadian| “There, you see! What the dickens was canoe may be upset unconvincing, | the good 'of my asking?” | " “You're cat friend of his, aren’t| “If you knewwhat I did, I supposeyou'd you?” pursued Mrs. Marland. S0 I sup- | never speak to me again.” pose there’s no harm in mentioning my | “All right. Keep it dark then, ple: suspicions to you. Indeed, I dare say you | “For one thing, I met— could be of use to him mean persuade | “I never asked you to, him to be w I'm afraid, Mr. Taylor, | They walked on a little wa that he i anglement.”’ | _“Met young Sutton at lunch,” observed urmured Mr. Taylor. Calder. ‘*‘He's been rusticating with some relations of old Van Merceron’s. They've 1 nice place, apparently.” ularly lli.\hk\" Mr. Sutton.” ght. He shan’t come when we are o positive proof, but I fear ¢ undesirable entanglement, \ some one quite beneath him. v . 1 think I had better tell you about too, e it. “Eh? What?” 1 didn’t speak,” said Miss Glyn, who had certainly done something. Mr. Taylor sat silent and, save for a start or two, motionless, while his com- panion detailed her circumstantial ev | “AND WHY SHOULDN'T Ip» dence. Whether it was enough to prove | Mrs. Marland’s case or not—whether, that is, it _is inconceivable a young man ¢ should go to any place fourteen evenings | beauty, don’t you know—forget the name; running and upset a friend of his youth | but a fat girl, Victor said, an awfully gone | out of a_canoe, except there be a lady in- | on young Merceron. Well, there’s a pond volved, is, perhaps, doubtful; but it or something’’— more than enough to show Sig “How long will this story last?” asked Taylor that the confession he had 1 Miss Glyn, with a tragic air. to was based upon fact and t Charli t’s an uncommon amusing one,” Merceron was the other party to those | tested Calder. stolen interviews, into whose exact degree | and”— of heinousness he was now inquiring.| “Do you mind finishing it some other | This knowledge caused Mr. Taylor to feel | time?” that he was in an awkward position. “Oh, all right. “‘Now,’”” asked Mrs. Marland, “candidly, | you.” Mr. Taylor, can you suppose anything else | = It doesn’t.” than that our friend Charlie was carrying ‘‘Never knew such a girl! No sense of on a very pronounced flirtation with this | humor!” commented Calder, with a shake dressmaker?”’ | of his head and a_backward roll of his eye “Dressmaker?”’ | toward his companion. “Her friend was, and I believe she was, | But it makes such a difference whether a too. Somethingof the kind, anyhow.” | story is new to the hearer. “You—you never saw the—the other per- | son?” | “‘Noj; she kept out of the way. That looks | bad, doeen’t it? No doubt she wasa tawdry, | vulgar creature. But a man never notices | that!” | At this moment two people were seen ‘“Beg pardon,” smiled Calder. “Victor told me rather a joke. It appears there’sa young Merceron, and the usual rustic mund i ’ pro- “He upset her in the pond Though it'd interest CHAPTER VI. Two worlds and half a dozen industries had conspired to shower gold on Calder | family, brought by his grandmother; there | approaching, One of them wasa man of | was finance on the paternal side (whence middle height and perhap. rs of | came a Portuguese title, carefully eschewed | age. He was stout and thick built; hehad | by ('m]«ler?; there had been a London afat face, with bulging cheeks; hi v street, half a watering place, a South were rather like a fro’gs; he | v | African mine, and the better partof an much forward as he w nd swayed | American railway. The street and the gently from side to side with a rolling | watering place remained; the mine and swagger, and as his body rolled his eye | the railway had been sold at the top of the rolled too, and he looked this way and that | market. About the same time the family with a jovial leer and a smile of content- | name became Wentworth—it had been ment and amusement on his face. The | Stupes, which was felt to be absurd—and smile and_the merry eye redeemed his ap- | the family itself began to take an exalted pearance from blank ugliness, but neither | place in society. The rise was easier, be- of them indicated a spiritual or exalted | cause, when old Mr. Stupes-Wentworth mind. 5 | died, young Mr. Calder S. Wentworth By his side walked a girl, dressed, as | became the onl{ representative, and a [+ Mrs. Marland enviously admitted, asreally | rich young bachelor can rise lightly very few women in London could dress | to heights inaccessible to the ~feet and wearing, in virtue perhaps of the |of less happily situated folk. It seemed dress, perhaps of other more precious | gifts, an air of assured perfection and | dainty disdain. She was listening to her companion’s conversation and did not notice Sigismund Taylor, with whom she i»urt of providence’s benevolence that when Lady Forteville asked how many “Stupes | women” there were the answer could be ‘None'’; whereupon the Countess at once invited Mr. Calder Wentworth to dinner. was well acquainted. alder went, and rolled his frog’s eyes “Dear me! who are those, I wonder?” | with much amusement when the lady exclaimed Mrs, Marland. ‘‘She’s very |asked him to what Wentworths he be- distinguished.” longed, for, as he observed to Miss Gyn, “T¢'s Miss Glyn,” answered he. whom he hiad the pleasure of escorting, his “What? Miss Agatha Glyn?" Wentworths were an entirely new brand, “Yes,” he replied, wondering whether that little coincidence as to the ‘‘Agatha” would suggest itself to any one else. :‘{:Ord hrapston’s granddaughter?’ “Yes.” ““Horrid old man, isn’t he?” “T know him very slightly.” “And the man—who’s he?"” “Mr. Calder'Wentworth.” “To be sure. Why, they're engnged, aren’t they? 1'saw it'in the paper.’ “I'm sure I don’t know,” said Mr. Tay- lor, in a voice more troubled than the matter seemed to require. I saw it in the paper, too,” ‘‘He's no beauty, at any rate; but he's a great match, I suppose ?” ‘Oh, perhaps it isn’t true,” { ou sqenk as if you wished it wasn’t. I've heard about Mr. Wentworth from Vie. tor Sutton—you know whom I mean ?” and and Lady Forteville knew it as well as if she had read the letters-patent and in- vented the coat of arms. “Mr. Wentworth—Mr. Merceron,” said Victor Sutton, with a wave of his hand. “I believe I know an uncle of yours—an uncommon clever fellow," said Calder, un- folding his naxxwkin and glancing round the dining-room of the Themis Club. “Ol'ly, Uncle Van? Yes, we consider him our— ‘‘Leading article? Quite so. I've heard | & bit about you, too—something about a canoe, eh?”’ Charlie looked somewhat disturbed. “Oughtn’t Sutton to have told me? Well, it’s too late now, because I've told half a dozen fellows.” ““But there’s nothing to tell.” “Well, I told it to old Thrapston—you again, and left him, striking across the Row. Taylor strolled on, and, finding don’t know him, do you? Cunningest old boy in London. Upon my honor, you know, I shouldn’t like to be like ‘old Mrs. Marland proceeded to give some par- ticulars of Calder Wentworth’s career, Wentworth’s head. There was land in the | Thrapston, nut'wheu I was getting old, you know. He's too—"" “Well, what did he say?’ asked Victor. “He said what you never had the sense to see, my boy; but I expect Mr. Merceron won't be oblx,izgd to me for repeating it.”’ “I should like to hear it,” said Charlie, with necessary politeness. “Well, it's not me, it's old Thrapston; and if you say it'’s wrong I’lL believe you. 0ld Thrapston—hang it, Victor, that old man_ought to be hanged! Why, only the other day I saw him—" “Do stick to the point,” groaned Victor. “All right. ‘Well,” he said, ‘I lay a guinea there was a —' and he winked his sinful old eye, you know, for all the world like a what-a-you-may'im in a cathedral— one of those hideous—I say, what is the word, Victor? I saw ’em when Agut)m took me—beg pardon, Mr. Merceron!” ‘Was the world full of Agathas? If so, it would be well not to start whenever one was mentioned. Charlie recovered him- self. “I think you must mean a gargoyle,” he said, wondering who this Agatha might be. “0f course,I do. Fancy forgetting that! Gargoyle, of course. Well, old Thrapston said, ‘T'll lay & guinea there was a woman in tlm)g. dashed summer house, Calder, my bo; 5 ector Sutton’s eyes lighted with a gleam. “Well, I'll be hanged if I ever thought of that! Charlie, you held us all!”’ “Bos aid Charlie Merceron. “‘There was 1o one there.” “All right. But there ought to have been, you know—to give interest to the position,” : “Honor bright, Charlie?”” asked Victor Sutton. “Shut up, Sutton,” interposed Calder. ‘“He’s not in the divorce court. Let’s change the subject.” t. Charlie was in a difficulty, but the better course seemed to be to allow the_subject to be changed, in spite of the wink that accompanied Calder’s suggestion. & “All right,” said Victor. “How is Miss Glyn, Wentworth ?? “0Oh, she’s all right. She’s been in the country for a bit, but she’s back now.” “And when is the happy event to be?” Calder laid down his knife and fork and remarked, deliberately : T haven’t, my dear boy, the least idea.”” «T should hurry her up,” laughed Sutton. “I'd just like—now I should just like to put you in my shoes for half an hour,and u hurry up Agatha.” he couldn’t eat me.”” cat you? No, butshe’d flatten you out, so that you'd go under that doorand leave room for the jolly draught there is all the same.” Sutton laughed complacently. “‘Well, you're a patient man,” he ob- served. ‘or my part, I'like a thing to be off or on.” 1t came to Charlie Merceron almost asa surprise to find that Victor’s impuderice— he could call it by no other name—was not reserved for his juniors or for young men from the country; but Calder took it quite good-humoredly, contenting himself with observing: “Well, it was very soon off in your case, wasn’t it, old fellow?” Sutton flushed. “I've told you before that that’s not true,” he said, angrily. Calder laughed. ¢All right, all right. once upon a time, Merceron, you know, that n]& Victor here was a bit smitten him- self; but he hasn’t drugged my champagne yet, so, of course, as he says, it was all a mistake.” After dinner the party separated. Vic- tor had to go to a party. Calder Went- worth proposed to Charlie that they should take a stroll together, with a view to seeing whether, when they came opposite to the door of a music hall, they \\'ouFd ““feel like” dropping in to see part of the entertain- ment. Charlie agreed, and, having lit their cigars, they set out. He found his new friend amusing, and Calder, for his part, took a liking to Charlie, largely on account of his good looks. Like many plain people, he was extremely sensitive to the iniluence of beauty in women and men alike. *I say, old fellow,” he said, pressing Charlie’s arm, as if he had known him all his life, “there was somebody in that sum- mer-house, eh?’’ Charlie turned with a smile and a blush. He felt confidential. ““Yes, there was, only Victor—" “Oh, T know. I nearly break his head whenever he mentions any girl I like.” “You know what he’d have thought— and it wasn’t anything like that, really.” “Who was she, then?” . “I—I don’t know.” “Oh, I don’t mean her name, of course. But what was she?” “I don’t know. “Where did she come from?’ “London, I believe.” “Oh, I thought—I say, that’s a queer go, Merceron.” “Idon’t know what to think about it. She’s simply vanished,” said poor Charlie, and no one should wonder if his voice fal- tered a little. Calder Wentworth laughed at many things, but he did not laugh now at Charlie Merceron. Indeed, he looked ‘We used to think, unusually grave. | “I should drop it,” he remarked. “It | don’t look—well—healthy.” | “Ah, you've never seen her,” said Charlie. No, and I tell you what—it won’t be a bad“tliling if you don’t see her again.” “Because you're just in the state of mind to marry her.” “And why shouldn’t I?” Mr. Wentworth made no answer, and | they walked on till they reached Picca- dilly Circus. Then Charlie suddenly darted forward. “Hullo, what's up?”’ cried Calder, fol- lowing him. | Charlie was talking eagerly to a very smart young lady who had just got down from an omnibus. “By Jove! he can’t have found her!” thought Calder. 5 It was not the unknown, but her friend, Nettie Wallace, whom Charlie’s quick eye | had discerned; and the next moment Willie Prime made his appearance. Charlie { received them both almost with enthu- | siasm, and the news from Lang Marsh was asked and given. Calder drew near, and Charlie presented his friends to one an- | other, with the intent that he might get a | word with Nettie while Calder engrossed | her fiance’s attention. “Have — have you heard from Miss Brown lately?”’ he was just beginning, when Calder, who had been looking stesg- ily at Nettie, burst out: “‘Hullo, I say, Miss Wallace, we've met before, haven’t we? You know me, don’t you?” Nettie laughed. “Oh, yes, I know you, sir. You're—" She }mnsed abruptly” and glanced from Charlie to Calder, and back from Calder to Charlie. Then blushed very red indeed. “I—I saw you at—at Miss Glyn’s, Mr. ‘Wentworth.” . ““’Course you did—that’s it;” and, look- ing curiously at the girl's flushed face, he added: “Don’t be afraid to mention ;\Iiyss Glyn; Mr. Merceron knows all about it.” “All about it, does he, sir’’ ? cried Nettie. “Well, I'm glad of that. I haven't been easy in my mind ever since,” Calder’s conformation of eye enabled him to express much surprise by facial expres- sion, and at this moment he used his power to the full. “Awfully kind of you, Miss Wallace,” said he; “but I don’t see where your re- sponsibility comes in. Ever since what?"’ Nettie shot a glance of inquiry at Charlie, but here, too, she met only bewilderment. “‘Does he know that Miss Glyn is—" she e e i “Engaged to me? Certainly.’ «On ! ¥y Willie stood by in silence. He had never heard of this Miss Glyn. Charlie, puzzled as he was, was too intent on Miss Brown to spend much time wondering why Miss Glyn’s affairs should have been a trouble to Nettie. “You let me know if you hear about her, won’t you?” he asked in a low voice. Nettie gave up the hope of understand- ing. She shook her head. ;To be l‘antiflu(d‘;] Copyright, 1894, by Alexander Hope. The Order of the Porcupine was estab- Hshed in France in 1393, > Everybody knows big-hearted | Frank Marston. of the proprietors of that elegant | restaurant situated opposite the Baldwin Hotel, which is known to nearly every young man and woman in the city of San an-l cisco. 845 Market street is the number which all the native sons of San Francisco remem- bers,because it is the place where they go for an early breakfast, a good dinner, or a late supper. The height of Mr. Marston’s ambition is to be amiable, and his compeers show that they like this trait by often slapping him on the shoulder as they meet him in the various walks of life. That he is a good fellow there is no doubt, that he is an hon- ored gentleman is evinced in the fact that he has been clerk of our own Assembly for four consecutive sessions, and besides filling this confidential position in our Legisla-~ ture, he has been the chief clerk in the great building where the dollars are ground out. Now, when he has been handling millions of gold and silver, or checks in his restaurant, he has always been the same plain, sweet-hearted fellow, and his words are of an especial importance on this touching occasion. Very few men like to speak to a reporter for publication, and Mr. Marston is one of those who do not care for notoriety. It was only a few days ago when he was in- terviewed with reference to our own home remedy, Joy's Vegetable These are his own words: “Yes, I know of the remedy. Ithasbeen in my household time and time again. I can conseientiously recommend it to all my friends, and to each and every individual who is all run down. I have never been really sick a day in my life, but I have seen times when I was tired and weary, harassed with the cares of life, and when it was necessary for me to do something. One of | these occasions I chanced into a neighbor- ing drugstore and asked for a bottle of Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. I walked | home with the bottle, and allowed it to re- main in the cupboard for about a week, and as I was feeling ‘outof sorts’ began using the medicine. Now, it was only three weeks since I began using the medicine, when my head was as ‘clear as a bell,” my eyes ‘as bright as a dollar,” and every part of my body seemed to have been renewed. The family having used Joy's Vegetable Sarsaparilla declare it to be far better than any other remedy they have everused, and they prefer to use Joy’s Vegetable Sarsa- parilla to nasty pills, for ‘don’t you know’ it is so hard to swallow one of those big balls.” The cut below shows in a small way the restaurant at which Mr. Marston is during the day. Any one can find this place, be- | cause the number is 845 Marketstreet, op- | posite the Baldwin Hotel, and after you | have had the good cheer which the place affords, it you will ask Mr. Marston, he will cheerily tell you of the benefits he de- rived from the wonderful Californian blood | | purifier, Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. | He is now one | | Sarsaparilla. MARSHAL MARSTON PRONUNCO. A Native Son Whose Words Are as Direct as Hot Cannon Balls. He Narrates His Experience With the Herb Healing Remedy Gathered From the Foothills, Valleys and Mountain Tops of California. N N CATARRH. E. W. Jov CoMpaNy—Gentlemen completed the second bottle of Sarsaparilla. I have hs affected my eyes, heari would have dull heada taking your remedy I symptom. Trusting you will publish th have fe as T want any one suffering from any of the above symptoms o be benefited. Kindly send me two more bottles by Teturn express. ned) MR. FREDERICK DE RICHMOND, eattle, Wash. Every mail brings a new batch of testi- monials for Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. o MPANY—Gent have attempted to w Have been so nerv bed for most of the ti A friend who had t. me two bottles. The s I have gained twenty pounds, new woman. I was pale, thin, given up,as T had tried so many r doctors, but found no benefit. If lish this you have my consent. (Signed) MRS. A. C. TILLM Alameda, Joy Co: T ha Headaches, Biliousness and Torpid Liver disappear when you take Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. E. W. Jo¥ COMPAN ferer from a horrib! irs: I have heen a suf- both bodily I 3 able parilla continually, and have derived wonderful benefits from it. 1 had ruined my stomach by taking mercury and potash until I became a chronic dyspeptic, unable to retain the least solid on my stoma Writing can eat anything and digest it without any inconven! When I c taking your Vegetable Sarsaparilla T w pounds, now 1 weigh 160 pounds, feel well, eat well | without a blotch, an JRVOUS PROSTRATION. E. W. Joy entlemen: I have suf fered from from financial losses. Can say Sarsapariila has cured me. and bowels have been very taking your remedy ss men ‘and women HENRY JO! Butte, (Signed) Backache, Dizziness, Tiredness give way to Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. E. W. JOY COMPANY— emen: T have taken your Vegetable Sarsaparilla and can say 1 have vthing equal to It. I have suffered psia, not being able toeat any- 1 bread. Life was nothing »petite, eat anything T wish effects from T wish I hem to iry youe ME. JOHN TIMOTHY, Forbestown, Cal. ble Sarsapar ned) If you want to get a spring medicine old sarsaparills | trademark, a big patch of red pimples, Sarsa- | and believe T am well, but will continue taking the | remedy ri You be benef (Signed) Mayfield, Cal. ght along. v publish this, as I want all sufferers to d by my ex ce. MR. THOS. Q. BROWN. Pure Blood, Pure Breath, Health, Sweet Glands or Pore Is made With the Use of Joy's Vegetable Sarsaparilla. | medicine chest. take Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. EID ¥ E. W. Jo¥ CoMPANY—Gentlomen: I have suf I fered from kidney trouble for two or three years. would have to get up in the night to void from ten to fifteen times. My sleep was v thin and rvous. o appetite; 1 have taken two bottles and . Sleep well. Have to get up during night, and am very much ‘Will continue to take foug for believe it will entirely MR. EDWARD W. FRENCH, Stockton, Cal. v resp sble Sarsaparilla, me. igned) JOY'S FOR THE JADED. JOY'S VEGETABLE SARSAPARIKLA. Ep. Jo¥ CoMPANY—Gentlemen: For a torpid liver and foul stomach Joy’s Vegetable Sarsapae rilla can't be equaled. I make room for it in my It acts in children as well ag Respectfully yours, RS. FLORENCE ROMAINR, San Jose, Cal. 014 ladies feel fine, young ladies look fine, after Using Joy’s Vegetable Sarsae parilla. the aged. (Signed) e e ] 845 MARKET STREET. TESTIMONIALS. I have fried several remedies which are adver- tised as specially for the liver and could never get any relief. T was recommended to ity a bottle of Joy’s Sarsaparilla just as a test, and while taking | the first bottle I became convinced of its merits, for I could feel it working a change in me. 1 have taken five botiles and now my troubles have leit me. Everything is working tull and regular. In fact, it has cleansed, purified and braced me up generally. 1 feellike'a new man. You are at per- refer whom you please to CHAS. LEE (with Belmishz. Third and Market sts., city. REFUSE THE SUBSTITUTE. I write to admit that motwithstanding my mis- givings your Vegetable Sarsapariila did all that you promised. I had tried so many prescriptions 10 no purpose that I had come to beileve that noth- ing would relieve my dyspepsia and headaches, but I have not had a return of either trouble since I commenced taking your medicine. 1 believe T am perfectly cured, but will, out of an abundance of caution, continie to take it regularly for a while yet. You have my permission (o make this public, | for I think that a remedy that will cure dyspepsia | fect liberty to use this as you see fit, or you can | fi and prevent sick headaches should be generally known. Respectfully, MES. M. FOWLER, 327 Ellis st., City. “JOY'S FOR THE JADED.” I have had for years spells of indigestion and dyspepsia, and have tried nearly everything. inally I took one of the sarsaparilias. It did not help me and caused pimples to break out on my face. This I was told was the result of the potash contained {n'it. Hearing that Joy’s Vegetable Sar- saparilla did not contain mineral and acted dif- I got some. The pimples disappeared al- most immediately, and I have not had any since. Ihave not had a symptom of my old disease, nor do I think it will return. MRS, C. B. STEWART, 400 Hayes street, City. Good Health for All Mankind in Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla. To show you my gratitude and for the benefit of | ‘others, 1 make it my duty to inform you that your Joy’s Vegetable Sarsaparilla has done me more | %004 than anything T have ever used, and I have | tried nearly everything. I used to rest but.little at nights, tossed from side to side, and after meals was troubled with indigestion, and my headaches | | | nearly drove me frantic. Your medicine hag wrought magic, and I feel like a different person, and all my troubles are gone. ALINA LOPEZ, MR 2119 Se street, St. Louis, Mo. I take great pleasure in recommending your Sar- saparilla. I have only taken one bottle 50 far, but I zecl like a new man.” I suffered from headaches and bloating of the stomach, caused, I presume, from indigestion. I shall continue to use it for s while, aud I heartily recommend it to my friends. It is a credit to you. V. ENG S. W. M. ENG . 1016 Market street, City. SEE THAT YOU GET THE GREAT ““HOME REMEDY.” Your Sarsaparilia has done me much About & 2g0 I began to feel very miserable and my skin was turning very yellow. I was all aches and pains. I went to the doctor and he told me my liver was out of order aud gave me so medicine, which did me no good. One of my neighe bors came in and advised me to try Joy's Vagetaple farsaporilia. T did, and with good effect. I feel ike a new being now and wish cvery one to k: the good it has done me. 7 k! MRS. GEORGE DELRIDGE, Butte City, Mont. Refuse a Substitate, no Matter What the Druggist May Tell You to the Contrary. Dov't Be Substituted.