The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on August 19, 1891 · Page 5
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 5

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, August 19, 1891
Page 5
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UU OOPVRIQHt BY AMERICAN PRE38 ASSOCIATION, 1801. CHAPTER XI, SPECULATIONS. York apctetji and Count Luclcn (7« Lisle agreed very well with one another. New York society and Count Lucien de Lisle agreed very well with one another that winter. In these later times we are become somewhat cautious and skeptical in our dealings with eminent foreigners whom we never heard of until they turn up in Fifth avenue with a romantic and dazzling autobiography and with some mysterious magnetism, which ends by attracting the precious metals out of our pockets, after which the high born enchanter vanishes. We no longei embrace this kind of people so impetuously as we did. But though it may be difficult to distinguish between good paste and a diamond we all recojmize the diamond itself when we see it. A charlatan may make us doubt, but a true man carries conviction with him. Count Lucien was no charlatan—the keenest critics were agreed as to that. His manners were good, without being too good; his refinement was instinctive, and there was a touch of soldierly sternness in him that gave his bearing weight q,nd distinction. He spoke little about himself, and never blew his own trumpet, but he evidently expected to be treated with consideration, and would perfectly know how to assert himself upon occasion. His standing, however, was that quiet and rather reserved gentle- deskou,* to be ou kindly terms people, and" conscious, it urt he could give them at i as ««Jth ae they could give him., Jieee qualities would have made lu'm acceptable in society, but his wealth rendered his position unique, and, in spite of the impossibility of such a thing as American snobbery, it put some queer modification into the spectacles of those who came in contact with him. Few spoke to him or thought of him exactly as they would have done if he had been a man of ordinary fortune. He actually had the money—that was the strange feature. The rumor ran that he was keeping threo or four million on deposit at several New York banks. The rumor was investigated, and resulted in the discovery that the millions in question were indeed there, but they were millions, not of dollars, but of pounds sterling. News came from Boston and Philadelphia that there was as much more to his credit in those cities. It leaked out that the great London and Westminister bank in London was paying Count de Lisle dividends on eight million pounds. But these vast sums were but the fringes of the count's fortune. He was a large investor in real estate and lands; indeed, a wag started the story that he had purchased allot' Manhattan island below Canal street, with its-buildings and inhabitants; but this proved to be an overstatement. Such fantastic exaggerations are merely illustrations of the impossibility of conceiving really great wealth. A million—ten millions—hundreds of millions—the mind cannot grasp the idea Of sucli sums in relation to any single Owner; one seems practically about as good as another; and, in tha effort to bring thein within the bounds of comprehension, we give way to jests and fairy tales. Was Count de Lisle's income twenty-five thousand dollars a day—or fifty thousand—or more? Whether it were more or less he certainly could not spend it on himself. And yet the innate desire in the human mind to see giants and heroes and gods—men who in their single persons are the equivalent of nations—makes ua hope that each new millionaire will find some way to wear all his millions as a garment, or, rather, as a skin, in which his own proper life circulates. Surely the wants of man are infinite; how, then, can any amount of money overwhelm him? Ba it a billion, every separate dollar of it ought to be tingling with vitality, and as busy ministering directly to its owner as are the corpuscles of his blood. That any of it should be lying dead seems a reflection on human ability—on our intellect and senses. The horse is his who mounts it; the fortune is his who spends it. No doubt great riches need great genius, and even genius needs practice. The power to make one's self legitimately cost, say, a hundred dollars a minute, night and day, from year's end to year's end, and year after year, is a mighty and admirable power, probably not yet attained on this planet. Of course it is understood that the spending must be personal, and that it must have an object. It will not do to throw the gold into th& sea, to burn or even to gamble. .Still main for long periods latent—potential wealth only. This is simply to make one's self an agent of the public expenditure; the personal element sinks out of Bight. But let him build a palace in a night, like Aladdin; drink a priceless pearl, like Cleopatra; throw a bridge of gold across the Hellespont; give a feast where fountains shall run precious wines, the dishes be set with diamonds, the guests be seated on chairs of gold and ivory, and every breath they draw be freighted with the value of priceless treasures. Tho magical, the impossible are what we demand of boundless riches, and we are continually disgusted, because, after all, nothing very much out of the common seems to take place. Count de Lisle, however, was still an unknown quantity; he had not shown what ho could do, and he might therefore still do anything. His fancy of a great free school and a museum of art, which a few persons were cognizant of, looked welt enough for a side issue, but for him it could hardly bo more than that. It was known that ho had purchased a tract of land several miles in extent on Long Island, and was having it laid out and improved, with a view, apparently, of making a private or semi- pnvato park of it, and no doubt the site of the school would be there. Ho had honsos at Newport and Saratoga, and palaces, it was said, in various European countries; he had, since coming to New York, given orders for the building of a steam yacht which was expected to combine the best qualities of Cleopatra's barge and an Atlantic greyhound. As to the Trent house, as it was still called, no one knew exactly what he was doing with that; he had already taken up his quarters there, but it was understood that alterations of some kind were still going on. After all known facts were allowed for, it was felt that the real nucleus of the matter had scarcely been touched, and that the sensation was yet to come. Then, where had the count's money come from? So gigantic a fortune could not have baen long in existence, or it would have been heard of. Was its source in the mines of Mexico? It was from Mexico that the count had come to New York; and, according to his own account, he was the sou of a single French gentleman, and had received his title of nobility from Napoleon—a complimentary gift merely, unaccompanied by revenue. Perhaps he had found the key to open the long Closed treasure house of the Montezumas. Perhaps he had stumbled upon a hoard laid up at the period of Maximilian's accession, when France anticipated gaining a permanent foothold in the' country. Perhaps he had discovered a diamond mine on his own account richer than those of Golconda. Or possibly he had only come suddenly into a number of great inheritances, to which circumstances had given a multiplied value. The foundation of the wealth of the Rothschilds had been laid by speculation on the results of a war. Thera had lately been a great war in Europe, but it was difficult to see how it «onld have put so much gold into any one man's pocket. Be-sides, the present accumulations of the Rothschilds were the gradual increase of several generations; whereas Da Lisle's fortune had, so to say, sprung up in a night. In the course of the season the count was seen at the principal houses in town; but he never remained at any place more than fifteen or twenty minutes, and always aroused more interest than he satisfied. Without seeming to be so, was careful in Ms selection of ac- he quaintances; only the select circle could say they knew him. It was evident, therefore, that the count did not intend to use any of his power in the amusement of defying society— as of course he might easily have done. He was going to be conventional, like ordinary men— always with the difference that he was the richest man in the world. But that fact actually rendered his conventionality eccentric. February came, and people wore saying that the season was over, when all at once invitations were issued to a dinner and reception at Count do Lisle's. Here was a sensation at last!' Every one who was invited had a different idea of what it would be like. There were two hundred and fifty invitations all told— a good sized dinner party, but still by no means a larger amount of guests than New York's highest circle could easily have furnished. In fact, the number could not well have been smaller; but then they were the choicest of the choice The most beautiful girls, the most aristocratic ladies, the most distinguished gentlemen. It would bo a brilliant occasion; no one had a right to complain, although, of course, those who were not among the elect might be expected to feel disappointed. There was one point about this affair that excited a good deal of curious speculation. The count was a bachelor and as a number of unmarried women were to be of the party, it was natural that he should ask some lady to assist him in receiving his .guests. Who should this lady be? It was assumed that she' would be some recognized leader of society somebody who would be recognized at once as the right person in the right place. But when it became known (as happened a few days before the date of the dinner) who she really was, there was a general stir of surprise. Sallie Matchin— or Mrs. Harry Trent as she should be called— was to stand beside Count de Lisle -in the drawing room and greet the guests as they came in' Everybody knew who the lady was; for although she had been in retirement ever since her husband's death, the tragic and still somewhat mysterious story connected with her last public appearance was not forgotten. While it could not be said that the lady was "off color," there was yet a feeling that her career had uot been, socially speaking, exactly fortunate. Her marriage had been u, secret one, and the event that had caused it to bo revealed had been sinister ami terrible. It was not her fault; but society is selfish and fastidious, and prefer not to be brought m contact \yith rwalls Matchin. Two others were immediately conspicuous. Tho first was that the house in which the dinner was to be given was built by her husband, and was the scene of his murder. The second was that the date appointed—February twenty-five—was the anniversary of tho day on which he was murdered. Unquestionably the coincidences were accidental, as far as the count was concerned. He had bought the Trent house because it suited him. He had appointed February twenty-five because ho was not able to complete his preparations earlier. But it was no accident that Sallie Matchin accepted his proposition. She must have done so with her eyes open, and knowing the remarks to which it would give rise. It was hard to fathom her motive in taking such a step. It could hardly be vanity; she was certain to be criticised far more than envied. Could it bo that she looked forward to emerging not only from her social retirement but from her widowhood as well? After having gained a handsome fortune by one husband, was she to reach the highest pinnacle of human affluence by means of another? If so, she might afford to disregard the disapproval even of New York. Time \Vas wanting to discuss the matter thoroughly. The twenty-fifth of February arrived, and the flower of Manhattan Island drove up to the Trent house with a soul full of surmise, and anticipation. (To be Continued.) A Stove That Cost $10,000. "Some twenty-five or thirty years ago," remarked Q. S. Hubbard,Jr., "Mr. Harrison owned eighty acres of land which is how on the line of the Burlington railway, between Chicago and Riverside. I saw that the property was bound to increase in valne, and so I made up my mind to offer Mr. Harrison $200 an acre for it I found him in his office, seated on a rickety old sofa beside a dilapidated desk and warming himself before the fire contained in a disreputable looking, rusty, begrimed old stove. Well, I made my offer and he promptly rejected it He said he wanted $250. I saw that he meant what he said, and the conversation soon drifted to other topics. Presently I remarked the ancient and hardly creditable appearance of the stove. " 'Yes, Carter,' said he, 'it is pretty tough, but it holds the coal, and that's all that's necessary.' " 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,'I returned. Til tell you what I'll do. Pll just go out and buy you a stove as a present' " 'You will? 1 he eagerly asked. 'Honest 1 -W^ll, then, if you'll do that, I'll tell you, .what HI do. Ill let you have those eighty acres at $200.' "So I went out and bought a stove and had it put up in Carter's office. The whole thing cost me $14.25. As soon as the fire was burning brightly in it I demanded the deed to the land, paid the money ond walked ant of* the office tha absolute ownor of those eighty acres. "Within a twelvemonth! was offered $WO an acre ft* the land attd refused it. The next tii»e I saw Carter after this offer had been made I told him about it "'You don't say I'he exclaimed, 'Come down to my office.' "We went. Carter took down his books and iu my presence made the entry: " 'To one office stove—$10,000.' "And he carried it right through his books too. Afterward I sold the land for $200,000."—Chicago Post A Girl's Dressing Table. A girl's dressing table is the pride of her room. She'may have pretty pictures, a collection of' photographs of her best fellows far exceeding in number that of her envious girl friends; she may have a gum board of real rosewood, five dozen sachet bags and a nightgown case of real Japanese silk; yet with all these glories to outshine it, the dressing table ia the pride and the piece de resistance, so to speak, of the room. The sweetest dressing table is all of glass and is provided with two shelves, an upper shelf and a lower shelf. These are of beveled 'glass and are held in place by beautiful gold legs. Another kind of a dressing table, less expensive, has simply a beveled glass cover on top, and ia just a plain table elsewhere. On top of the table go the silver manicuring implements, tho celluloid brush and comb and the ivory backed glasses and brushes. Besides this there must be the dozens of little fancy boxes, powder and puffs and bottle of cologne and perfumery. To make these bottles more ornamental manufacturers have supplied cut glass pitchers and odd shaped things filled with perfumery of all colors. One can thus, if she be a dainty miss, and particular as to the appointments of her room, have her perfumery to match the general color of the boudoir.—New York World. . Arsenlous Achl. The medical dose of arsenious acid is about one-twentieth of a grain given in pill form after meals. This dose is increased under the directions of physicians, but it is a thing with which the laity should not tamper. Tho lethal or deadly dose is generally placed at about one and one-half grains for an adult. It has been placed at about one and one- half to two and one-third grains. The effects of arsenical solutions, such as Fowler's, are more rapid and severe than those of the solid drug. Fowler's solution i a a preparation much used. Women take it because it gives a plump appearance and beautifies the complexion. It is given in medicine as an alternative and is much used in skin diseases. Fowler's solution contains four grains of arsenious aoid to the ounce. It is nearly colorless, with a ffiint taste of the compound spirit of lavender which is in it. The average dose in beginning is five drops in a wine- glassful of water utter meals. Tho ounce of solution contains qbout eight tea- epooufuls, uud according to this tlw tea- enoonful contains about half a grain of arseuious acid.-—Kajjsas City Star, HOW I SAID YES, % godfathers and my godmothers in fr'J' baptism called me "Olive," and they lived to be heartily ashamed of themselves for it, for never was there a child with a more mistaken name. A belligerent state was my normal condition. i do not remember my nurses, but I have grace enough to pity them. The mildest of my teachers considered mo "unruly," and yoi. can ask Geoffrey what he thought of me a year ago. Now it is different. I have found my master, and I believe I rather like it. This is how it came about: . Geoffrey had asked mo three times to tnnrryhim, and three timea I had said "No" in the most decided manner. But that never made the least difference to um. Ho only laughed, and said I would know my own mind better next time. "I suppose," I said, you mean to ask mo onco a quarter?" ; "Is that enough?" "Too often, a great deal, sir." "Well, then, we will say once in six months, Miss Olive." And then ho walked smilingly away, and began some nonsensical talk with father about Dr. Koch and his bewildering theories. The last asking was just at the begin| umg of warm weather, and father, who 'thought Geoffrey's opinion infallible asked him where he would advise us to go for the summer. I had made up my mind to go to Long Branch, and I said so very distinctly, but Geoffrey proposed some out of the way place in the Virginia mountains. Then he painted it in such glowing colors that nothing would satisfy father but a personal investigation. It was all Geoffrey's doing, and I told him so at the railway station. "It is your doing, sir," I said, "and I shall remember you for it." "Thanks, Olive," he replied; "there is nothing I fear but forgetfulness." I wanted to speak unmistakably to him, but the train moved, and I felt that it would be only waste of material. At the end of the second day we got to our destination. It was a pretty place, I must acknowledge that. Nature had done all she could for it, but art and civilization had passed it by. The men were eimply "frights," and the women were— well, none too good for the men. The houses were log cabins, through which daylight peeped and the wind blew as it listed. But there was of course a big white hotel— there always is. I have no doubt if we had gone to Stanley falls or Guthrie we should have found a hotel and a proprietor— the institution is ubiquitary. We procured rooms, and my trunka were with some difficulty got up the hill and the flight of wooden steps into the hall. "I suppose," I said, with a resigned look at father, "there is no use in taking them upstairs. I can have no use for my dresses here?" "As you like, Olive," he replied, in one of his meek and mild ways, "as you like, dear; that gray thing you have on. looks pretty well, and it does not show the dkt" After this remark of course I had every trunk, bonnet box and sachel taken upstairs stairs; and the noise and confusion,«ahd even the occasional bad word their size" and weight called forth, were quite grateful to me. "It is not my fault," I explained. "If people will build stairs like corkscrews 1; am not responsible." "• ; "•• In this amiable mood we took possession, and I think, if Geoffrey had known what I was thinking about it, as I did up my hair and put on my white evening dress, he would have lost a trifle of his self complacency— that is,' if men ever do make a loss of that kind. The first thing that pleased me was the supper. It really was good, particularly the berries and cream, which are a specialty with me. '/ ..:>. "But, sir," I inquire^, "are there any Christians here besides ourselves?" "It is to be hoped so, Olive. I saw a little church in the valley." "Pshaw, father 1 I did not mean church Christians, I mean society Christians." "Ah, they are different, are they? Well, what do you think of Augusta Pennington for a Christian?" "Augusta Peunington! Is she here?" I asked, amazed. "No, she is not, but her brother lives within two miles, and he has a daughter about the same age as yourself. Mrs. Pennington wrote them we should be here today; they will doubtless call in the morning." Well, I did not care if they did. The dresses in my trunks were sufficient to inspire any woman with comfortable assurance. The next morning I made a beautiful toilet, but neither Mr. nor Miss Lacelles called. Just after supper I heard a little. stir and bustle on the stairs, a rippling laugh, the rustle of silken robes, and, leaning on her father's arui, Miss Lacelles entered. She was beautiful; I saw that at a glance; tall and pale and ladylike, reminding you of a fair white lily. We soon struck up a friendship-a givl's friendship, I mean. Some one has said that there is no friendship between the sexes, and some one is mistaken, I think, for the world holds no safer friend for a woman than an honorable man. A woman's friendship is very likely to be the result of -convenience, contiguity, or of being, as my father rather sneeringly remarked, "the only Christian within hail of each other." Mary showed me all her dresses and told me her secrets, and I returned thd compliment, mindful of Burns' advice to still "keep something to inysel 1 1 wadna tell to ony." Life settled down into an unexciting but endurable routine. Mary and 1 visited each other and arranged our next winter's campaign, for I had invited her to pjv*j the cold weather with me in New \ork. One day, in the middle of one c«v these pleasant chills, a, servant cuuio iu a»d handed me » card. The name ou it roused at ouco all the tagouisia in, W y nature. It of this gentleman waa the one thing I had kept back in my confidences with Mary. So I had now to explain who and what he was. I wanted her to come in to the parlor with me; but no, she would go home first and dress; but she promised to be back to tea. I disliked Geoffrey, yet I was glad to see him. My mental faculties were rusting for want of attrition. Father would not quarrel with me, and Mary was my only face card. I could not throw her away. Besides, I liked to see his great, handsome figure in the room. He was so full of life that he seemed to vitalize even, the chairs and stools; they tumbled about and got out of the way in the strangest manner. I told him about Mary Lacolles, and warned him that he would lose his heart. Ho gravely told mo he had none to lose. Imagine six feet two inches of manhood without a heart! We waited tea for Mary, but she did not como till quite dark, and we had begun tea. She said she had been detained by company, but I knew better than that. She was dressed with reference to candlo light effect, and would not lose its influence on her first appearance. 1 never saw her look so lovely. Her rose colored dress, with its broad shimmering bands of white silk, wonderfully enhanced her charms. Geoffrey looked delighted, and she gave him the full benefit of both her upward and downward glances. When tea was over I left the room a few 'minutes, and when I came back found Geoffrey and Mary sitting opposite each other, with tho chessboard be- tween'them as an excuse for flirtation. The move had been BO rapid that I was astonished, and a little angry, too; and father did not improve matters by whispering as I passed his chair: "Checkmated, Olive!" It was not a pleasant evening to me, and it was the beginning of many unpleasant ones. "How it came let doctors telY'butl began to like Geoffery just as soon as he began to like Mary. I called up pride to the rescue, but it did not help me much and I suffered a good deal in watching Geoffrey's attentions to Mary and listening to her prattle about him. I thought her supremely silly, and I told her so. She was astonished at my petulance, but I don't think the suspected the truth Only father did that, and he looked so "Serve you right, miss," that I longed for him to be a woman for an hour or so that I might talk back to him. One day, after Geoffrey had been a month with us, a riding party was proposed to the top of the mountain. Father and I, Geoffrey and Mary—that would be tho order, of course, and I wag prepared for that; but there is a last sttaw in every burden, and my last straw was this incident: They were mounted and waiting for me, when Mary dropped her glove. From my window I saw Geoffrey pick it up, put it on the hand laid so confidingly in his, and then Idss it After that I was not going to ride for king nor kaiser. I sent a positive refusal to all entreaties, and aa soon as they were out of sight indulged m a good, refreshing cry. I cried myself to sleep, and woke about dusk with a new born pur- •pose in my heart which comforted me They Like Van Honten. W Many farmers who lite In the neigh' * borhood of the Republican candidate, for lieutenant governor, George Van Houten, do a portion of their trading in Creston. Scarcely a day baa passed since his nomination that' had not brought one ol these to The Gazette of- nee to express gratification and approval. They all tell the same story. They all think well of him. It is the general ( verdict that he has given more tfane to farthering the interests of agriculture,, horticulture and stock raising than any! other man in this portion of the state.) He has done this, too, very often to the' detriment of his own private affairs. He is well posted, and ever ready to' help in farm and kindred matters by lectures, discussions or formation of in-' stitntes, alliances, etc. He has been a hard worker on such lines. As a writer for the agricultural press, George Van Houten has always ranked among the. best in the country.—Creston Gazette 1 fj Brewers Invest 9100,000. ' The brewers' congress has appropriat' ed $100,000 for the purpose of carrying Iowa for the Democracy this fall. Tbo brewers' organization Is created for' business. It is to devise ways and means to extend and strengthen their business. Everything is "business", that is worthy of being conducted in the brewers 1 congress. The members of it 1 know how to make money. They en-! deavor to put their money "whe»9 it ! will do the most good"—to them. Now if more beer was sold tinder the opera-' tion of the Iowa prohibition tew, aa is BO often asserted, and as many believe,' does anyone suppose that the brewers^ congress would expend $100,000 or any. other sum to reduce the sales of liquor, and beer?—Aberdeen News, ! Silk Raising la France. During the first half of the present century silk raising in France was quite prosperous. In 1808 the production was 500,000 kilogs. It then increased steadily until 1849, when it waa about 2,000,000 kilogs. In 1854 mulberry trees began to be attacked by a ravaging disease, which destroyed many plantations, and was merely the first of many reverses which have harassed and discouraged French silk growers. Since then the production has been subject to great fluctuations. In 1876 the low water mark for the century was reached, with an output of but 155,000 kilogs. During the last ten years the annual production has been from 600,000 to 800,000 lrilogs.-Cor. Dry Goods Economist. wonderfully, the keynote of which was, ."She stoops to conquer." Yet I did not dress again. I knew they were to take tea at Mr. Lacelles 1 , so I threw my dressing gown around me, and taking a novel in my hand, I ordered a cup of strong tea and went into the sitting room. As 'I walked in at one door, Geoffrey walked in at the other. "I came to take you to Mr. Lacelles' Olive," ho said. BANCROFT, IOWA. W0rk g, u , aran tced. Pictures en- at reasonable prices. T. M. OSTEAKDER, Veterinary * Surgeon Bancroft, Iowa. es A so 1 hruS I fhoS ly , tor tue n , sick and lame hora- es, so 131 ing them along. Charges reasonable. «'M. RICHMOND, President, A. B. RICHMOND, Cashier, mo ever since you an- How do you propose doing it, sir? For unless you bind me hand and foot, and get a couple of darkies to tote me there, I really don't think you will succeed." "I could carry you myself." "Could you. I don't think you would enjoy the journey." "Will you dare me to do it?" "Not to-night. I should like to insure my life first." "Olive, you have been crying." "I have not, sir," indignantly. "And if I have, what is that to you?" reproachfully. "A great deal. Oh, Olive, you teasing, provoking, bewitching little mortal! How often must I tell you I love you? How often must I ask you to marry me?" "It is not six months since the last time, Geoffrey." "I don't care; it seems like six years. And, oh, Olive, you know that you love me." "I do not." "You have lovod were 8 years old." "I have not." "Now you must take me forever or leave me forever to-night. I have asked you three times before," "Four times, sir." "Well, four times, then. Odd numbers are lucky; hero is the fifth time. You know what I want, Olive—your promise to be mina Is it to be? Now or never!" I suppose every one has a good angel. Mine must have been at its post just then, for a strange feeling of humility and gentleness came over mo. I glanced up at the handsome face all aglow with love's divine light; at the eyes full of gracious entreaty; at the arms half stretched out to embrace me. Yet pride struggled hard with love. I stood up silent and trembling, quite unable to acknowledge myself vanquished until I saw him turn away grieved and sorrowful. - Then I said: "Geoffrey, come back; it is now." "That is the way I said "Yea," and J have never been sorry for it. If J Jive to be as old as Methuselah I shall never be a meek woman; but still I suit Geoffrey, and I take more kindly to his authority than I ever did to paternal rule. Father laughs with sly triumph at Geoffrey's victory, and he sent me as a wedding present a handsome aopy of ''The Taming of the Shrew."-Amelia a Barr in New BANCROFT, IOWA. h,,v h c ?i lace to makc y° ur Farm Loans, buy, sell or rent a farm, buy, sell or rent FnM, land .', or anything in the real es- P? 1 1« ««* , Also ™ rit e insurance, sell tickets to and from Europe. flre proof vault wil1 soon ° f Call and see us. Phoenix House, - BANCROFT, IOWA. i^~ Now running under new management. 0. T. BRIGHA! KMT. Gallanan A, KElSfYON, i>.afla*. Loans aid Insurance. BANOBOPT, IOWA. F. A. BKONSON

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