The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on December 16, 1896 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, December 16, 1896
Page 3
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fit fnf g&Sfld tri*tatiftM£ 6f ' iNttRNAf IONAL PftESS ASSOGlAtloN. sit" you _ 48 n&t think," Said Mr. Nicholson it tastj "that 1 affi an ungenerous* 1 hffve never grudged yoii monejf Wlthlfi feasdtt, for any aVowablS pUr- Jrosej you had just 16 come to ttfi ahd Bj&eak, And bow' I find that you tave forgotten all decency and all natural feeling, ahd actually pawtted—pawned -your mother's watch. You must have had some temptation; I will do you the justice to suppose It was a strong one. What did you do with this money?" "I would rather not tell you, Jsald. John, "It will only make langryi" "I will not bo fenced with," cried his pather. "There must be an end of dls- lingenuous answers. What did you iWatit with this money?" "To lend it to Houston, sir," says John. "I thought I had forbidden you to jspeak to that young man?" asked tho lather. "Yes, sir," said John; "but I only met Uittn." "Where?" camo tho deadly question. And "In a billiard room" was the fdamnlng answer. Thus had John's single departure rom the truth brought Instant pun- |ishment. For no other purpose but to Isee Alan would he have entered a bll- filard room; but he had desired to pal- fliate the fact of his disobedience, and Know It appeared that he frequented Itbese disreputable haunts upon his own faccount. Once more Mr. Nicholson digested Xhe ylle tidings In alienee; and when John stole a glance at his father's counten- ace he was abashed to see the marks t suffering. "Well,"'-said the old gentleman at |ast, "I can not pretend to be simply Sunday? Hi a hand was tft the dfawef, almost before his mind had cbncelved the hope; and rising td hla new situation, he wrote, sitting 1ft his father's chair and using his father's blotting-pad, his pitiful apology and farewell'. "My Dear Father:—1 have taken the money, but I will pay it back as soon as I ata able. You will never hear of me again. I did not mean any harm by anything, so I hope you will try and forgive me. I wish you would say good-bye to Alexander and Maria, but not if you don't want to. 1 could not wait to see you, really. Please try to forgive me. Your affectionate son, "John Nicholson."' The coins abstracted and the missive written, he could not be gone too soon from the scene of thcee transgressions; and remembering how his father had once returned from church, on sorno slight illness, in the middle of the second psalm, he durst not even make a packet of a change of clothes. Attired as he was, he slipped from the paternal doors, and found himself in the cool spring air, the thin spring sunshine, and the great Sabbath quiet of tho city, which was now only pointed by the cawing of the rooks. There was not a soul in Randolph Crescent, nor a soul In Queensferry street; in this outdoor privacy and the sense of escape, John took heart again; and with a pathetic sense of leave-taking he even ventured up the lane and stood awhile, a strange peri at the gates of a quaint paradise, by the west end of St. George's Church. They were singing within; and by a strange chance, the tune was "St. George's Edinburgh," which bears the name, and was first sung in the choir of that church. "Who awed .down. 1> rose this morning vhat the world calls a happy man— iappy, at least, in a son of whom I lought I could be reasonably proud — " But it was beyond human nature to pndure this longer; and John interrupt- fed him almost with a scream. "Oh, Iwheest!" he cried, "that's not all, that's I not the worst of it— it's nothing! How fcould I tell you were proud of me? Oh! -I wish, I wish that I had known; but you always said I was such a disgrace! And the dreadful thing is this: We were all 'taken up last night, 'and we have 'to pay Colette's fine among the six, or we'll be had up for evidence — sHebeenirig it is. -They made me swear to tell you; but for my part," he cried, 'bursting into tears, "I just wish that I [was dead!" And he fell on his knees Ibefore a chair and hid his face. Whether his father spoke, and wheth- he remained long in the room or at once departed, are points lost to his- jtory. A horrid turmoil of mind and body; bursting sobs; broken, vanish- ling thoughts, now of indignation, now •of remorse; broken elementary whiffs lof consciousness, of the smell of the Ihorsehair on the chair bottom, of the f jangling of church bells that now began to make day horrible throughout the confines of the city, of the hard floor that bruised his knees,' of the taste of tears that found their way into his mouth; for a period of time, the duration of which I can not guess, while I refuse to dwell longer on its agony, these were the whole of God's world for John Nicholson. When at last, as by the touching of a spring, he returned again to clearness of consciousness and even a measure of composure, the bells had just done ringing, and the Sabbath silence | was still marred by .the patter of belated feet. By the clock above the fire, as well as by these more speaking signs the service bad not long begun; and the unhappy sinner, if his father had really | 'gone to church, might count on near two hours of only comparative unhappiness. With his father the superlative degree returned infallibly. He knew it by every shrinking flber in his body, he knew it by the sudden dizzy whirling of 'his brain, at the mere thought of that calamity. An hour and a half, perhaps an hour and three-quarters, if the doctor was long-winded, and then would begin that active agony from which, even in the dull ache of the present, he shrunk as from the bite !' of flre. Ho saw, in a vision, the family pew, the somnolent cushions, the Biblesi the psalm books, Maria with her smelling salts, his lather sitting spectacled and critical; and at once he was struck with indignation, not unjustly. jt was inhuman tp go off to church, and leave a sinner In suspense, unpunished, unforgiven, And at the very touch of criticism the paternal sanctity was les- 'sened; yet the paternal terror only grew; and the two strands of feellpg pushed hjro in the same direction. And suddenly there came upon him a pad fear lest bis father should have locked h}m in- The notipn had no grpmd in senses it was probably no more than a reminiscence of similar calamities in, childhood, for his father's ropm had always bee » th ° cham " ber Qf Inquisition and the scene of punishment: but it stuck so rigorous y • fa his Wind 'tha,t he must instantly the aqpr wa pw e its un- As M vwt, ^ struck UJJQU » drawer left ep«« ia the busisess table. Is this KliJg of Glory?" went the voices from within; and, to John, this was like the end of all Christian observances, for he was now to be a wild man like Ishmael, and his life was to be cast in homeless places and with godless people, " It was thus, with no rising sense o£ the adventurous, but in mere desolation and despair, that he turned his back on his native city, and set out on foot for California, with a more immediate eye to Glasgow. , lie nad fitted «f!ttffl< shame, et- ft tbuclt oi ftftgif, «f procrastination, df- feeft&ttsiS (a§ W8 seeh) he had ho skill 1ft litoraty afts, or because («s t dfti sbmetlmeS tempted to suppdse) there is* & law in fcttma'n nature that prevents yoiiftg Weft—ftbt otherwise beasts—ffOm th6 JSfeffSfffi* ance of this Simple act of piety —months and years had gone by, and John had never written. The habit of not writing, indeed, was al» ready fl*ed before he had begun to corns Into his fortune; ahd it was ottl? the difficulty of breaking this long silefice that withheld him from ah in* slant restitution of the money he had stolen or (as he preferred to call it) borrowed, in vain he sat before paper, attending on Inspiration; that heaven* ly nymph, beyond suggesting the words "ray dear father," remained obstinately silent; 'and presently John would crumple up the sheet and decide, as soon as he had "a good chance," to carry the money home In person. And this delay, which is Indefensible, was his second step Into the snares of fortune. Ten years had passed, and John was drawing near to thirty. He had kept the promise of his boyhood, and was now of a lusty frame, verging toward corpulence; good features, good eyes, a genial manner, a ready laugh, a long pair of sandy whiskera, a dash of an American accent, a close familiarity with the great American joke, and a certain likeness to a .R-y-1 P-rs-a-ge, who shall remain nameless for me, make up the man's externals as he could be viewed In society. Inwardly, In spite of his gross body and highly masculine whiskers, he was more like a maiden lady than a man of twenty-nine. It chanced one day, as he was stroll- Ing down Market street on the eve of his fortnight's holiday, that his eye was caught by certain railway bills, and In very Idleness of mind he calculated that he might bo home for Christmas If he started on the morrow. The fancy, thrilled him with desire, and Dr. Talmaie's ROYALTY IN DISGUISE, itt* ,«it Washington, free. 18, this eermon from a bible scene never used CHAPTER IV. :T is no part of >mine to narrate the adventures of John Nicholson, which were many, but simply his more momentous misadventures, which were more than he desired, and, by human standards, more than ho -deserved; how he reached California, how he was rooked, and robbed, and beaten, and starved; how he was at last taken up by charitable folk, restored to some degree of self-complacency, and installed' as a clerk in a bank in San Francisco, it would take too long to tell; nor in these episodes were there any marks of the peculiar Nicholsonic destiny, for they were just such matters as befell some thousands of other j<oung adventurers in the same clays -and places. But once posted in the bank, he fell for a time into a high degree of good fortune, which, as it was only a longer way about to fresh disaster, it behooves me to explain. It was his luck to meet a young man in what is technically called a "dive," and thanks to his monthly wages, to extricate this new acquaintance from a position of present disgrace and possible danger in the future.. This young man. was the nephew of one of the Nob Hill magnates, who run the San Francisco stock exchange, much as more humble adventurers, in the corner of some public park at home, may be seen to perform the simple artifice of pea and thimble for their own profit, that Is to say, and the discouragement of public gambling. It was thus in his power— and, as he was of grateful temper, it was among the things that he desired— to put John in the way of growing rich; and thus, without thought or industry, or so much as even understanding tlje game at which he played, but by simply buying and selling what he was told to buy and sell, that plaything of fortune was presently at the head of between eleven and twelve thousand pounds, or, as he reckoned it, of upward of sixty thousand dollars. How he had come to deserve this wealth, any more than how be had formerly earned disgrace at home, was a problem beyond the reach o£ his phil- In one moment he decided he would go. There was much to be done: his portmanteau to be packed, a credit to be got from the bank, where he was a wealthy customer, and certain offices to be transacted for that other bank in which he was an humble clerk; and it chanced, in conformity with human nature, that out of all this business it was the last that came to be neglected. Night found him, not only equipped with money of his own, but once more (as on that former occasion) saddled with a considerable sum of other people's. Now it chanced there .lived in the same boarding-house a fellow-clerk of his, an honest fellow, with what Is called a weakness for drink—though it might, in this case, have been called a strength, for the victim had been drunk for weeks together without the briefest Intermission. To this unfortunate John intrusted a letter with an inclosure of bonds, addressed to the bank manager. Even as he did so he thought he perceived a certain haziness of eye and speech in his trustee; but he was too hopeful to be stayed, silenced the voice of warning in his bosom, and with one and the same gesture committed the money to the clerk, and himself into the hands of destiny. I dwell, even at the risk of tedium, on John's minutest errors, his case being so perplexing to the moralist; but we have done with them now, the roll is closed, the reader has the worst of our poor hero, and I leave him to judge for himself whether he or John has been the less deserving. Henceforth we have to follow the spectacle of a man who was a mere whip-top for calamity; on whose unmerited misadventures not even the humorist can look without pity, and not even the philosopher without alarm, (TO BE CONTINUE!!.* In sermoftlc discourse, Df. Talhtage draws some startling lessons, and teats 6ff the masque pf deceit, thft tekt is 1. Kings 14 !0:' "Why feignest thfltl thyself to be another?" In the palace of wicked Jero- hoam there is a sick child, a very sick child. Medicines have failed; skill is exhausted. Young Abijah, the prince, has lived lottg enough to become very popular, and yet he must die unless some supernatural aid Ije 'afforded. Death comes up the broad stairs of the palace and swings back the door of the aick room of royalty, and stands looking at the dying prince with -the dart uplifted. Wicked Jeroboam knows that he has no right to ask anything of the Lord In the way of kindness. He knows that his prayers would not be answered, and so ho sends his wife on the delicate and tender mission to the prophet of the Lord in Shlloh. Putting aside her royal attire, she 1 puts on tho garb of a peasant woman, and starts on the road. Instead of carry- Ing gold and gems, as she might have carried from the palace, she carries only those gifts which seem to indicate that she belongs to the peasantry—a few loaves of bread and a few cracknels and a cruse of honey. Yonder she goes, hooded and veiled, the greatest lady in all the kingdom, yet passing unobserved. No one that meets her on the highway has any idea that she ia the first lady in all the land. She Is a queen in disguise. The fact is that Peter the Great, working in the dry docks of Saardam, the.sailor's hat and the shipwright's axe gave him no more thorough disguise than the garb of the peasant woman gave to the queen of Tlrzah. But the prophet of the Lord saw the deceit. Although his physical eyesight had failed, he was divinely Illumined, and at one glance looked through the imposition, and he cried out: "Come in,, thou wife of Jeroboam. Why feignest thou thyself to be another? I have evil tidings for thee. Get thee back to thy house, and when thy feet touch tho gate of the city, the child shall die." She had a right to ask for the recovery of her son; she had no right to practice an imposition. Broken-hearted now, she started on the way, the tears falling on the dust, of the road all. the,,, way from Shiloh to Tlrzah. Broken-hearted now, she is not careful any more to hide her queenly gait and manner. tho prophecy, the moment her feet touch the gate of the city, the child dies. As she goes in, the soul of the child goes out. The cry In the palace is joined by the lamentation of a nation, and as they carry good Abijah to his grave, the all- is filled with tho voice of eulogy for the departed youth, and the groan of an afflicted kingdom. The story of the text Impresses me with the fact that royalty sometimes passes in disguise. The frock, the veil, the hood of the peasant woman hid the queenly character of this woman of Tirgah. Nobody suspected that she was a queen or a princess as she passed by, but she was just as much a queen as though she stood in the palace, her robes incrusted with diamonds, And so all around about us there are princesses and queens whom the world does not recognize. They sit on no throne of royalty, they ride In no char- ffff fcS SftiW. »8r« tSt tftafi tfie' H§ ftsh^ witft the.fistemm its with Ms swtt hatttaet to tfc&eaffi Shot, Ma ate faff coffi ffiit 6* t»8 tt§ fHed fish t>fi the* to&fifci «f the nesafeti , Me was howled at P«top1« ifl,in6 ttiihtiS.- He" waS of the surf 6f tfce sea, A pilgffffl with* out any pillow. A Sick maft without and medieaffient. A filotirBBf With »6 sympathetic bosdttt 1ft which he could eftftr f T?BH?* f, . skit i >iW x$i tootii' his teaf-s. Disguise complete, know that occasionally his dlvitte fdy* alty flashed-out, as when m the etetm bti Galilee, a* in the red wine at the wedding banquet, as when he freed the Shackled demoniac of Oadara, as whett fJdg-weil, rli ""Miss H&lyW" reacted iti hia 4iwray; the to osophy. It was true that he had industrious at the bank, but no more so than the cashier, who had seven spaail children and was visibly sinking in decline, 'Nor was the step which had determined his advance— a visit to a dive with a month's wagea ia his pocket— an act of such transcendent virtue, or tp merit even wisdom, as to seem the favor qf the gods From, 8pme sense of this., and of the -on wWch jne» sit faring that fte or p,ei> <?* fete A MISTAKE SOMEWHERE. She Wnn C'y Jones' Wife and Know tilt Fact*. "I'm looking for a roan named Jones," he said as the door waa opened to him by a woman almost six feet high and weighing nearly 200 pounds', according to the New York World. M Cy Jones?" she queried. "Yes, I think that is the name. .-I'm a whitecapper and have come to give him warning," "What's Cy Jones been doing?" ''Licking his wife, and he's got to stop it or we'll take him out and switch him." "Did you ever see Cy Jones?" asked the women as she drew herself up, "Not that I know of.". She went back to the sitting room, was gone a moment, and when she returned she was carrying a man about four feet ten inches Jong under her arm. She gave him a twist and put him on his feet and said: "This is Cy Jones." "Ypur—your husband?" stammered the whitecapper. "The same, and I am Cy Jones' wife!" "Great Scott! There must be a jni3» take here, madam!" •"Yes, J think so!" she dryly re? plied, as she tossed-tlje little man in her arms. "Sorry to have disturbed you, sn&'ajM, j3Ut : yousee " "Yes, i see, the- fea.ce," lot, they elicit no huzza, they make no pretense, but by the grace of God they are princesses and they are queens. Sometimes In their poverty, sometimes in their self-fjenial, sometimes in their hard struggles of Christian service- God knows'they arc queens; the world does not recognize them. Royalty passing in disguise. Kings without the crown, conquerors without the palm, empresses without the jewel. You saw her yesterday on the street. You.saw nothing important in her appearance, but she is regnant over a vast realm : of virtue and goodness-^a realm vaster than Jeroboam ever looked at. You went down into the house of destitution and want and suffering. You saw the story of trial written on the wasted hand of the mother, on the pale cheeks of the children, on the empty bread-tray, on the flreless hearth, on the broken chair. You would not have given a dollar for all the furniture In the house. But by the grace of God she Is a princess, The overseers of th,e poor come there and discuss the c'alse and say, "It's a pauper." They <to not realize that God has burnished for her a crown, and that after she has got through the fatiguing journey from Tirzan to Sbiloh and from Shiloh back to TJrzab, there will be a throne of royalty on which she Shall rest forever. Glory veiled. Affluence hidden. Eternal raptures hushed up. A queen in mask. A princess in disguise. But there wag a grander disguising. Tho favorite Q{ a great house looked out pf the window pf his palace and he saw that the people were carrying heavy burdens, and that some of th.ein. were hobbling cm crutches, TO4 he saw B Q W e of m?m lying .at t;he § a je tijeir gprej, ajjgmien, h.e! £ea.r4. ' he turned a whole School of Into tHe' net of the discouraged boatmen, aa When he throbbed life into the shriveled arm of tho paralytic; but tot the most part he was in disguise. No one saw the king's jewels In hlfl saiidal. No one saw the royal robe lit his plain coat. No one knew that that shelterless Christ owned all the mansions In which the hlerarchs of heaven had their hab-* itatlon. None knew that that hungered Christ owned all the olive groves, and all the harvests whlcli shook their gold on the hills of Palestine. No oiie knew that he who said "I thirst" poured the Euphrates out of his own chalice. No one knew that the ocean lay In the palm of his hand like a dewdrop In the vase of a Illy. No one knew that the stars, and moons, and suns, and galaxies, and constellations that marched on age after age, were, as compared with his lifetime, the sparkle of a firefly on a summer night. No. one knew that the sun in midiheaven was only the shadow of his throne. No one knew that his crown of universal dominion was covered up with a bunch of thorns. Omnipotence sheathed In a human body. Omniscience hidden In a human eye. Infinite love beating In a human heart. Everlasting harmonies subdued Into a human voice. Royalty en masque. Grandeurs of,heaven in earthly disguise. , My subject'also'Impresses me with how precise and accurate and particular are God's providences. Just at the moment that woman entered the city, the child died. Just as It was prophesied, so It turned out, so It always turns out. The event occurs, the death takes place, the nation If born, the despotism Is overthrown 'at the appointed time. God drives the universe with a stiff rein. Events do not just happen so. Things do not go slipshod. In all the book of God's provi- dences there is not one "If." God's providences,are;neyer caught In dishabille, "'To God the're are no surprises, no disappointments and no accidents. The most Insignificant event flung out In the ages is the connecting link between two great chains—the chain of eternity past and the chain of eternity to come. I am no fatalist, but'I should be completely wretched If I did not feel that all the affairs of my life are in God's hand, and all that pertains to me and mine, just as certainly as all the affairs of this woman of the text, as this child of the text, as this king of 'the text, were In God's hand. You may ask me a hundred questions I cannot answer, but I shall until the day of ray death believe that I am under the unerring care of God; and the Iheavens may fall, and the world may burn, and the judgment may thunder, and eternal ages may roll, but not a hair shall fall from my head, not a shadow shall drop on my path, not a sorrow shall transfix my heart without being divinely arranged—arranged by a loving, sympathetic Father. He bottles our tears, he aandth. performance at the r dU--<4. ^^.j.**!*^. ' J ", ,V _..j, receatiy. Mubeft Wilke Is andthe'f oi the atic artists to appeaf m^the < Hart cohway is tttte of the last ef actors ta open a school dt aetihgv is Ideated In Chicago, < . Miss Georgia Oayvan, now is credited With a hit In her tation of "Squire Kate." . v False Wltneises. There ate kuaves now ttad then mot wtu who rew-eheut certain local blttera alid poisonous Btimlill na identiottl with or pos- aesalnK ttropertles nkln to those of Hostet- tor's Stomach Blttors. These scampd only succeed in foisting their trn&liy cowpouMst upon people unticqunluted with tue genuine article, which i«t us much 'their opposite an day is to night. Ask and take ha substitutes for the grand remedy for rlo, dyspepsia, constipation. ' ind kidney trouble. Before OUrUtmas. \ "Come, Jimmy, it is time for Sunday school'' *" "Naw, I ain't going. I'm gettln' too big to be good a whole month jos* for a, orange an' a bag of candy. _^_ ^Farmer Wanted. ' ' '• In every township, 8 days a week, during , winter, to distribute samples, collect names' of sick people and work for their,. druggists on the'8 great family remedies: Dr. Kay's Renovator, Dr. Kay's Lung Balm, and Kldneykura. Good pay to maB ' or woman. Send for booklet and terms. . Dr. B. J. Kay Medical Co.,, western office, 1 Omaha, Neb._ .'• An analysis of 2,000 accident policies, on which benefits) were paid, showed that only seventy-five cases were injured, in bicycle accidents. ' , TO CURE A COLD IN ONE DAY. Tako Laxative Bromo Qulnlno Tablets. All Druggists refund tho monov U it fulls to euro, 25c, Recurrent appendicitis has caused O. B. < Martin of Shelbiua, Mo., to undergo, fou» operations within 18 months. Plso'H Cure for Consumption has been a family medicine with us since 1805.—J. R. Madisou, 3400 42ud Aye., Chicago, 111. The Christmas tree, born in Germany, bus taken root in every laud where the Christ child Is known and loved. _ , ' Cincinnati provides sand piles on the school ground for the children to play lu. ' •'•'J Returns to tho heart of the victim bouwl In tlio olmina of rheumatism, dyspepsia, Borofultt, oa- tarrh, when tho blood Is onrlolied and purllleu by Hood's Sarsaparilla The One True Blood Purlfler. All Druggists, til Hood's Pills the host ufter-dlnnex pills, euro headache, 8Go, wS n^ iV tt^wogi, j^ wjjg catches our sorrows, and to tho orphan he will be a Father, and to the widow he will be a husband, and to the outcast he will be a home, and to the most miserable wretch that this day crawls up out of the ditch of his abomination crying for mercy, 'he will be an all-pardoning God,' The rocks shall turn gray with age, and the forests shall be unmoored in the last hurricane, and the sun shall shut Its fiery eyelid, and the stars shall drop like blasted figs, and the continents shall go down like anchors In the deep, and the ocean shall heave Its last groan and lash itself with expiring agony, and the world shall wrap Itself Ip a winding sheet of flame and leap on the funeral pyre of the judgment day; but God's love shall not die. It will kindle its suns after all other lights have gone out. It will be a billowy sea after the last ocean has wept Uselj: away, It will warm itself by the flre of a consuming world. It will sing while the archangel's trumpet is pealing forth and the air is filled with the crash of broken sepulchres and the rush of tl\e wings of the rising dead. Oh, way God comfort all this people with this Christian sentiment. Union Pacific Ry, Go, Lands 000,000 Acrog Farm lands, 4,000,000 Acres Grazing: Lands, In Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah. Excursion Bates for Homeseekere. Fare Befunacd to I*urcliuiern. REDUCED Pn/Cg8-TEN YEARS TIME ONE-TENTH DOWN. " ', B, A. McAUASTER, Land Commissioner, OMAHA, NEB. WOMANHOOD uuflerlDB woroeu bow to guura auiiUjst dangerous surgical operations and minute treatment toe American AMooia-tl<m r Q(' niy01olan» VMaed a resolution lodiM,riUute a. little book go female discuses, "Womanttood." explains all Diseases and irregularities peculiar to woman and gives vhe best methpds of home treatment, gent free for stamp to pay postage. Address Eleanor Kendall, , • Hit) North -'5IU St., South Qmahik. Nob.' SOUTH WEST Sovuu Wise nieu'a Suylugs, The saylnss of the Seyen Wise Men are thy famous mottoes inscribed in the temple of Apollo at Delphi; Solpn of Athe^— "K»ow th,yaelf," CJjUo of Sparta— "Consider the end." Thales ot Miletus,— "Suretyship Js the pve cursor p| vulR." Bias, of Priene— "Most ' . 'are bad," OlepbuJus of "Avoid, excess," Pittacus of Mitylene -r"Kn.ow thy opportunity-" of Corintb-^othiBg js ^possible The best fruit seetlcui In tljo \Vqat. drouUis. A ItiHurH uf crops uevoy UB^ ,„ Mild climttto. Productive soli. Abundance of -, good pure trutPr. ' • For MUDS and Circulars Diving full desovip. v \lon of (he Rich Mineral, Fruit tmij AgrleqHm ' rul Lands in South Went Missouri, write to JOHN M, fUWKV, Munager of the --•**"*'• l,nnd and Ltvo stpck Cprnpauy, " top CQ,, >l}Htjourl. < j- j \mt U B A *l* Owlntr to tho coiulttlon of the ' If fl B r% ( «i»»»t nisi to JUP itcjti f»Wj vlllotlci'l!t|il»iitltit Wl>l»wi'Muilllc» M> I «ith n^tpiiwi^ I«etii»'ii» inruiuwtU lull MWUa^WBJk, .S?!l'Wo* ll 'f I|M J U«*i\l 9*f WSS» ona AarlW 4* to pat?)itabWty/fi . Semi fpr"liivmitovj 1 a«M« YOU AREWANTEI

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