: .4-:.-.~v-.«.- ‘AMANDA TODD. BY MARY E. WILKINS. Amanda Todd’s orbit of existence is restricted, of a. necessity, since she was born, brought up and will die in this vil‘- lage, but there. is no doubt that it is eccentric. She moves apart on her own little course quite separate from the rest of us. ' Had Amanda’s lines of life been cast elsewhere, where circumstances had pushed her, instead of hemming her in, she might have become the feminine apostle of a new creed, have founded a sect or instituted a new system of fe- male dress. As it is, she does not go to meeting, she never wears a bonnet and she keeps cats. ., Amanda Todd is 60, and she never was married. Had she been, the close fric- tion with another nature might have worn away some of the peculiarities of hers. She might have gone to meeting, she might have worn a bonnet, she might even have eschewed cats, but it is not. probable. When peculiarities are in the grain of a person’s nature, as they probably are in hens, such friction only brings them out more plainly, and it is the other person who suffers. The village men are not, as a‘ rulc,very subtle, but they have seemed to feel this instinctively. 'Amanda was, they say, a very pretty girl in her youth, but no young man ever dared make love to her and marry her. She had always the reputation of being “an odd stick,” even in the district school. She al- ways kept by herself at recess,she never seemed to have anything in common with the other girls and she always went home alone from singing school. Probably never in her Whole life has Amanda Todd known .what it is to be protected by some devotedperson of the other sex thrbugh the mighty perils of our village street. There is a tradition in the village that once in her life, when she was about 25 years old, Amanda Todd had a beau- tiful bonnet and wenttomeetiug. Old Mrs. Nathan Morse vouches for the reliability of it, and, moreover, she hints at a. reason. “When Mandy, she was ’bout 25 years old,” she says, ' “Georoe Henryr French, he come to b .. town, and taught the district school, and he see Mandy, an’ told Almira Ben- ton that he thought she was about the prettiest girl he ever laid eyes on, and Almiry, she told Mandy. That was all there ever was to it, he never waited on her, never spoke to her, fur’s I know, but .right after that, Mandy, she had a bunnit, and she went reg’lar to meetin’. ’Fore that her mother could scarcely get her to keep a thing on her head out of doors—allers carried her sunbun- nit a-danglin’ by the strings, wonder ..she wasn’t sunstruck a million times—- and as for goin’ to meetin’, her mother, she talked and talked, but it didn’t do a mite of good. Is’pose her father kind of upheld her in it. He was most as odd as Mandy. He wouldn’t go to meet- in’ unless he was driv, and he wa’n’t a. member. ’Nough sight ruther go out prowlin’. round in the woods like a wild animal, Sabbath days, than go to meet- in’. Once he ketehed a wildcat, a1}; tried to tame it, but he couldn’t. It b1' and chewed so he had to let it go. I guess Mandy gets her liking for cats from him fast enough. Well, Mandy, she had that handsome bunnit, and she went to meetin’ reg’lar ’most a year, and she looked as prettyas a picture sittin’ in the pew. The bunnit was» trimmed with green gauze ribbon and had a wreath of fine pink flowers inside. Her mother was real tickled, thought Mandy had met with a change. But land, it didn’t last no time. George Henry French, he quit town the next year and went to Somerset to teach, and pretty soon we heard he hcd mar- ried a girl over there. Then Mandy, she didn’t come to meetin’ any more. I dunno what. she did with the bunnit -—stamped on it, most likely, she al- ways had consizler’ble temper—anyway, I never see her wear it arterwards.” Thus old Mrs. Nathan Morse tells the _ story, and somehow to a reflective mind the picture of Amanda Todd in her youth decked in her pink-wreathed bonnet, selfishly but innocently attend- ing in the sanctuary of divine love in order tolay hands on her own little share of earthly affection, is insepara~ ble from her, as she goes now, old and bare-headed, defiantly past the meet- ing house, when the Sabbath bells are. ringing. However, if Amanda Tod-d had elected to go bareheaded through the village street from feminine vanity, rather than eccentricity, it would have been no wonder. Not a young girl in the vil- lage has such a head of hair as Amanda. It is of a. beautiful chestnuit color, and there is not a gray thread in] it. It is full of wonderful natural ripples, too —not one of the village girls can equals them with her papers and crimping pins—and Amanda arranges it in two superb braids wound twice around her head. Seen from behind, Amanda’s head is that of a. young beauty; when it turns a little, and her harsh old pro- file becomes visible, there is a shock to the stranger. ' Amanda’s. father had a great. shock of chestnut hair, which was seldom cut, and she inherits this adornment from him. He lived to be an old man, but that ruddy crown of his never turned gray. Amanda’s mother died long ago; then: her father. Ever since she has lived alone in her shingled cottage with her cats. There were not so many cats at first; ’they say she started with one fine tabby, who became the mother, grandmother and great-grandmother to armies of kittens. . Amanda mu st destroy some When she can find no homes for them, otherwise she herself would be driven afield, but still the impreSsion is Of a legion. A cat is so covert, it slinks so secretly from one abiding place to another and seems to duplicate itself with its sud- den appearances, that it may account in a. measure for this impression. Still there are a. great many. Nobody knows just the. number—the estimate runs “Weakly” anywhere from 15 to 50. Counting, or trying to count, Amanda Todd’s cats ‘is a favorite amusement of the village children. “Here’s another,” they shout, . when a_ pair of green eyes gleams at them from a post. But is it another, or only the same cat who has moved? Cats sit in Amanda’s windows; they stare out wisely at the passers—by, from be- hind the panes, or they fold their paws on the ledge outside in the sunshine. Cats walk Amanda’s ridgepole and her fence, they perch on her posts and fly to her cherry trees with bristling fur at the sight of a dog. Amanda has as deadly a hatred of dogs as have her stone throw of her she sends off yelp- ing, for she is a good shot.’ Kittens tumble about Amanda’s yard and crawl out between her fence pickets under people’s feet. Amanda will never give away a. kitten except- to a respons1ble person, and is as particular as if the kitten were a human orphan, and she the manager of an asylum. She will never, for any consideration, bestow one of her kittens upon a family that keeps a dog, Or where there are many small children. Once she made a and she may be at times inwardly dis- posed to banish the children. Amanda Todd is extremely persistent when she has selected a home which is perfectly satisfactory to her for a kit- ten. Once one was found tied into a little basket like a baby on the doorstep of a childless and humane couple who kept no dog, and there is a story that Deacon Nehemiah Stockwell found one in his overcoat pocket and never knew how it came there. It is probable that Amanda resorts to these extreme meas- ures to save herself from either destroy- . ing her kittens or being driven out of house and home by them. However, once, when the case was re- versed, Amanda herself was found wanting. When she began to grow old, and the care of her pets told upon her, it occurred to her that she might adopt a little girl. Amanda has a comfortable little income, and would have been able to provide a good living for a child, as far as that goes. But the managers of the institution to Whom Amanda applied made in- quiries, and the result did not satisfy them. Amanda stated frankly her reason for wishing to take the child, and her intentions with regard to her. She wished the little girl to tend her cats and assist her in caring for them. She was willing that she should attend school four hours per day, going after the cats had their breakfast, and returning an hour earlier to give them should go to meeting in the afternoon only, and she could have no other chil- dren comeito visit her for fear they would maltreat the kittens. She furs thermore announced her intention to make her will, giving to the girl, whom she should adopt, her entire property in trust for her cats, to include her own maintenance on condition that she de- vote her life to them as she had done. r The trustees declared that they could not conscientiously commit a child to her keeping for such purposes, and the poor. little girl orphan, who had the chance of devoting her life to the care of pussy cats and kittens, to the exclu- sion of all childish folowers, remained in her asylum. manages as best she can. Nobody in the village can be induced to live with her; one forlorn old soul preferred th almshouse. ~ “I’d ’nough sight rut-her go on the town than live with all them cats,” she said. ~ It is rather unfortunate that Aman- da’s shingled cottage is next the meet- ing house, for that, somehow, seems to render her non-church-go-ing more glar- ingly conspicuous, and than, too, there is a liability of indecorous proceedings on the part of the cats. They evidently do not share their mis- tress’ dislike of the sanctuary, and find its soft pew cushions very inviting. They watch their chances to slink in when the sexton. opens the meeting house; he is an old man and dim-eyed, and they are often successful. It is wise for anybody before taking a. seat in a pew to make sure that one of Amanda’s cats has not forcstalled him; and often a cat flees down one flight of the pulpit stairs as the minister ascends the other. We all wonder what will become of Amanda’s cats when she dies. There is a report that she has made her will and left her property in trust for the cats to somebody, but to whom? Nobody in this village is anxious for such a be- quest, and whoever it may be. will prob- ably strive to repudiate it. Some day the cats will undoubtedly go by the board; young Henry Wilson, who has a gun, will shoot some, the rest will be- ' come aliens and wanderers, but we all hope Amanda Todd will never know it. In the meantime she is undoubtedly carrying on among us an eccentric, but none the less genuine mission. A home missionary is Amanda Todd, and we should recognize her as such in spite of her non-church-going pnoclivities. Weak in faith though she may be, she is, perchance, as strong in love as the best of us. At least I do not doubt that her poor little four-footed dependents would so give evidence if they could speak—Ladies” Home Journal. Florida Indians. “Our Indians,” says Dr. Brecht, Inv idian commissioner in the state of Florida, “are not multiplying rapidly. This is due to physiological and social reasons. Still. there has been an in- crease. In 1859 there were but 112. Now there are something over 500. The chief social reason for their slow propoga- tion is the custom of countenancing no marriages of persons who have a drop of the same blood in their veins. This is sometimes hard on the girls. One leader I know has two beautiful daugh- ters, who cannot get married because the eligible young men are almost all i t akin to them.”——Chicago Chronicle. ——The Hindoo—Koosh, 20,600 feet, is re- ported to be the highest in Afghanistan. cats. Everyone which comes within- condition that the dog should be killed, . their supper. She was willing that she - So Amanda to this day lives alone, and ‘ UNION MEETING. The regular quarterly meeting of the Norwalk Christian >Endeavor Union, was held in the Congregational church, Westport, Tuesday. Several churches were represented and they went in carryalls, carriages, wagons and on bicycles. The different churches sent delegates as follows: South Notwalk Congrega- tional 4; Westport Congregational, 24; Scuth Norwalk Baptist. 28; George- town Congregational, 4; Nortield Con- gregational,27: Wilton Congregational, 15; Norwalk Congregational, 33; Broad River Chapel, 8; Calvary, Baptist, Nor- walk, 7. No delegates were present from Ridgefield or Silver Mine although the churches in that cxly belong to the Union. The following programme of execises was’attentively listened to and greatly enjoyed: Praise Service. . Scripture Reading by Rev. B. O. Sherwood. Prayer by Rev. J obez Backus. Secretary’s Report, by Miss Daisy Rider. Treasurer’s Report, by George H. Quintard. , ' Lookout Committee Report by A. B. Heath. , Good Citizenship Report, by Charles L. Helmet. ' Junior Endeavor Report, by Mrs. J a- bezBock-us. ' Consecration Service led by Mrs. A. B. Heath. Fine refreshments in abundance were served by the Westport members. The only mishap that occurred me while the party was on the way home. A number of those who were in attend- ance rode home on their bicycles, among the rest being a young man named Lester. As one of the carryalls driven bya man named Magnet was turning the corner of Fitch street and Maple avenue Lester guided his bicy- cle directly in front of the team, and was struck by the horses and thrown to the ground. Before the driver could rein up his team two of the wheels of the carryall had passed over the bicy- cle and completely wrecked it. ’The rider, who had been warned two three times to keep out of the way, luckily escaped injury. ‘ D. A. R. CONFERENCE. 500 Members of the Society Gather in Hartford—The Addresses Made. The Connecticut Daughters of the American Revolution held their third state conference at Hartford Tuesday at the Park church and Foot Guard hall. The morning session opened at the church at 11 a. m., and the exercises comprised an address of welcome by Mrs. John M. Holcombe, and a. reply by Mrs. Sara T. Kinney, State regent. A business meeting followed, at «the close of which adjournment was had to the armory for luncheon and the after- noon session. ’ The programme for the afternoon in- cluded addresses as follows: Mrs. Georgiana Hull Parsons, South Nor- walk—"The Women of ’76”; Mrs. Mary E. M. Hill, Norwalk—“I‘he Meaning of Our Society”; Mrs. Kate Foot Coo, Mormon—“Struggles of Women for Political Independence”; Miss Clam Bowman, Bristol—~“Objects of Work for the Daughters of the American Revolution”; Mrs. Harriet Beecher Scoville, De Van, Stamford—“The Highest and Best Aims of Our Society. ” At leatt 500 lady visitors were present from allover the state, each wearing the badge of the society. Thirty-two chapters were represented in the gathsr' ing. Among prominent VlSltOl‘S from other states were Miss Allen, State re- gent. of Missouri, and Mrs. Barber, State regent, of Colorado. The affair concluded at 4 o’clock with a reception by the members of Ruth Wyllys chapter, the local organization. The Trip Postponed. David C. Sanford, engineer of the Shell Fish commission, has decided to postpone his trip to Germany until De- cember. The German authorities in charge of the Shell Fisheries of the em- pire, desired Mr. Sanford to come out this spring and deliver some lectures on the oyster industry and make investiga- tions with ayiew of re-establishing this fishing. Germany at one time raised more oysters than any other country in the world, but at present very little is done. The experiments in dyster cul- ture will be made at the Island of Heli- goland. How’s This! We offer One Hundred Dollars Re- ward for any case of Catarrh that can- not be cured by Ha l’s Catarrh Cure. E. J. Cheney & Co, Props , Toledo, 0 .We the undersigned have kn wn F- W. Cheney for the last 15 years, and be- lieve him perfectly honorable in all business transactions and financially able to carry out any obligation made by their firm. . * West & Truax, Wholesale Druggists. , Toledo, 0. Welding, Kinnan & Marvin, tholesa‘le Druggists, Toledo, 0. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internal- ly, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Price 75cents per bottle. Sold by all Drug- gists. Testimonials free. It is estimated that there‘ are 13,000 ‘ bicycles in Bridgeport. SOME STRANGE'SHO'WERS Visible only to the Alcoholized’ Vision of Tipplers. Tough Yarns ‘Spun by Seasoned Cull- utomlaus About Lizards and Other ' Small Deer Descending from the Clouds. r Col. Bixby, Judge .Dukes and Maj. Finney came over from the Barstow diggings one evening recently with a big story about a storm a few evenings before on the Laramie plains in which it rained lizards. They had been over the divide to the Waterman ranch, and on returnng were over- taken by a gale, which presently brought rain. For an hour or so it poured in torrents, and then, just at dusk, they felt something 'solid strik- ing them occasionally. At length the colonel, who was sitting on the back seat, says a. writer in the New York Sun, reached down into the wagon box and pulled out a ,“Water dog” about six inches long. This convinced the tourists that an extraordinary storm was in progress, and to some extent prepared them for what followed. “Little by little,” said the judge, “t he bombardment increased, until liz« ards and to ads were thicker’n flies. We turned up our coat collars and pulled down our hats, but it did no good. They’d strike us in the face, in the lap, on the back and all over, and the horses became wild with terror. We lost our way, and the major got out to look at the ground, but jumped back into the wagon again with a yell, say- ing it was knee deep with lizards. By this time it had stopped raining and we came to the conclusion, after mature reflection, that the area of the storm could not be large, and that if we moved straight ahead in almost any di- rection we would soon be out of it. Acting on this determination we start- ed up again, and in the course of half an hour we struck hard ground. We camped near there, and when daylight came we went back a ways and exam- ined the lizards. There were millions of them, the great majority of them being dead as the result of their fall; but there were plenty of live ones, and the way they were crawling was a cau- tion.” Some one having asked what theory they had to advance in explanation of this visitation, the major said that there was a lake on the summit of the mountain ofl? toward Banning that was full of lizards, and he had no doubt that the wind, which was very high, had scooped out that body of water with all its contents and dumped them on the Laramie plains. He knew of a similar case in Kansas. A tornado had followed the line of a river and scooped it out so clean for a distance of nine- teen miles that farmers living thirty nfles from the stream found fish, tur- tles and frogs in their front dooryards, and believed they had rained down. The colonel said he had brought a few of the lizards in to show the folks, and he would get them, but, after search- ing the wagon box in vain, he was forced to apologize by saying that they had prob ably come to life and crawled away. - . Capt. Nelson, the saloonkeeper, who had been a patient listener, shook his head and said: “Old Hank Moore was the only man I ever knew who could get ’em and be kind of pleasant and sociable with ’em. He never made no fuss, never got excited, and never got scared. He’d be walking along on the sidewalk, and all of a sudden he would see alittle baby elephant ahead of him, and would run along and try to climb on his back. Then, when he’d fall, he’d swear that somebody tripped him up, and he’d get get you off in the corner and tell you confidentially that he wanted a drink, but that he couldn’t swallow it unless you took that alligator off the bar. I’ve seen Hank go out in the street lots of times to avoid stepping on a toad that he thought he saw. But he was always happy and good natured about it. He could see more elephants in a minute than any man you ever knew, and sometimes when they were partic- ularly thick he would get up a' dance with them. He was a pleasant man to have around. . When he got the tre- mens, he would always get them right, and nobody was the worse for it. “One day he came in from the Dodge City plains with a long story about see- ing a drove of elephants out there. I didn’t know him so well then' as I did‘ afterward, and he was so quiet about it that I believed him, and just for the fun of the thing I drove out there with him. After we had gone a. few miles he made me stop and then start up slow because he didn’t want to hurt them. “ ‘Hurt what?’ says I. “ ‘The little elephants,’ said he. “Then I looked at him, and he jumped out of the buggy and began to chase one of them. Pretty soon I got tired, and I began to chase him. He and I had it there for about two hours, but I ran him down and got him into the wagon. Then’ he- wanted me to take one of them home with me, and just to please him I pre- tended to put 'one into the wagon. He patted the imaginary elephant, and‘ was very contented with 'it-until we got most to Laramie, and then it vanished.”‘ After all hands had partaken of the landlord’s cheer, he added: “Now, then, judge, major and colonel, _I don’t mind telling you that Hank Moore’s drove of elephants was seen in the same place that the lizards were, but there was something rather enter- taining about the way he led ’em. I’m afraid you’re mixing alittle too much.” ‘ Hard to Believe. The Lewiston Journal prints 8. story which slanders the gallant sons of Maine. Needless to say, it cannot be true. A Knox county man and his wife were passing a schoolhouse when a. snow- ball struck the lady. Her husband,natur- ally, was highly indignant, and, turn- ing about, he shook his fist at the school- boys, and cried: “It’s lucky for you that you didn’t hit me. you young rascals.” all over it. An hour later he would. . A M m. or . VICISSITUDES ‘OF LIFE. Sequel to on Experience of a Struggling Young Author. . “You remember my telling you awhile ago, when we. were talking about the vicissitudes of life,” said a strug- gling young author, according to the New York Sun, “about an experience that I had once? I had a number of manuscripts, you remember, which I desired to sell and which I sent out to the publications I thought them best suited for. One after another they'camc back, until they had all come back but one. Thalt one, in my own judgment, was much the best of the lot, and I had built strong hopes upon it; and when. so to speak, it. still didn’t- come back, I felt sure that it had been accepted. , But after waiting awhile longer and not hearing from it, I wrote, asking about it, and the publisher wrote me a polite note saying thpy had no record of it; it had never been received. “That was the story as I told it to you, and I supposed that that was the end of it; and it was pretty, tough, wasn’t it? But now let me tell you the sequel. ' “Of course I wrote a. polite note in reply to the publisher; and in that note I described the manuscript and said that perhaps it might yet be found; and later it was found, and, by snakes, they returned it! “That was solemn; but it was one of those things that are so everlastingly, gosh-blastedly solemn that you have to laugh over ’em; and there can’t be anything very terrible in anything that you can laugh over; so, you see, cometo take it altogether, that experience was not very distressing after all.” MOS l' PECULIAR ROOSTER. He Very Much Besembles a Bird of Pat- adise. To see a rooster that resembles a. bird of paradise is a rare sight, but such a one has recently been a common spec- tacle in- Japan, says, the New York World. , This particular fowl was, apart from his gorgeous appendage, of the ordinary type found in Japan, except that he was a little more proud in his bearing than his fellows. It may have been his manner that first led to his selection as the bearer of a most magnificent tail. The brief history that can be obtained of this freak rooster is silent on that point. It prob- ably was selected because only an arro- gant, lordly manner could support such a wonderful and variegated appendage. Be that as it may, the rooster did cer- tainly have a tail 16 feet long. In it were all the bright colors imaginable. The tail was far more brilliant in its color- ings than the shining feather-fan of a _ ' peacock. The neighbors of the J ap displayed no interest in the freak bird, but were amused by those who expressed admira- tion and wonder, who were invariably foreign travelers. Then it was discovered that the bean- tiful long tail was not afre-ak of nature, but the clever work of the ingenious J up, who had fashioned and fastened the tail in such a way as to defy detection except after the most minute scrutiny. A Japanese Lady Politician. a” M. The most remarkable woman in poli- tics in Japan is Mme. Hatoyama. When her husband, a. leader of the progres- sionist party, ran for parliament, she took the stump and made speeches in his interest—a very extraordinary thing for a J upanese lady to do. She is now a teacher in the academy of which her husband is principal. Effect. of Tree Destruction. , The influence of forests in protecting the water supply is well illustrated in the case of Greece. In ancient days she possessed 7,500,000 acres of forest. To- day she has hardly 2,000,000 acres, and the scarcity of water and other injuri- ous climatic effects are traceable to the destruction of the trees. I ‘ L n I . g A TRUE MUSICIAN. .' Whltcomb’s Genius Turned on om Fiddle plutom Thingot Beauty.‘ - *' James Whitcomb was a prominent, and he was not only a politician, but one of the best amateur musicians in the country. He composed several p’ie‘ces for the violin, which was his chosen instrument, and many are the stories told of him and his fiddle. At one time, says the Pittsburgh Dis- patch,,he was traveling from Indianapo- lis to eastern Indiana, and stopped for He entered the cabin with his compan- ion, and there they found a lame young scraping atan old violin with most dis- astrous results. . ‘ ~ He laid the violin on the bed and L horses. Mr. Whitcomb at once took up the violin, tuned it, and when Amos re- turned was playing light and beauti- ful airs. Amos was entranced. He sat down, and, mouth wide open in wonder, watched the musician. Then Mr. Whit- comb struck up “Hail Columbia,” and the youth could bear it no longer. He sprang to his feet.- , all for that fiddle! music.” ~ Mr. thitcomb said nothing, but kept on playing. By and by, when he had finished, he laid the violin on the bed. ’llhis was the young man’s opportunity. He sprang up, seized the instrument, carried it to the fire, where he could see more plainly, and turned it over and over, examining every part. _ “Mister,” he sang out, in high excite- ment. “I never in my life see two fid- dles so much alike as yours and mine!” I never heard such SPG’I‘IHE takes out ink, paint. 1 - tar, pitch, grease f: _ .j .‘ and stains from .' 53' 5 POTIN E clothin and car- ’ - g ,cLEAHs pets quickly and . completely and "’ Mateaveiam . -+No Acid.-—- 100., 256.. at Drug . No unpleasant odor. and Dry GoodsStores Samples mailed, 56. Not inflammable. ' I L. B. SUTTON, New Canaan, Ct. “a - ‘ wv—v ,9 . r. .‘-‘ . Pu . . . ' . \ .1 V ,‘ ' . " . > 1’ ,,///,‘VV. I”, . V/ ’Il ' . OR’ CHILDREN (lulyn Nothing is left undone to make the Liliputian Bazaar for Clothing Chi]- satisfactory, the most economical place in all the world. 8 5 0' Made of Novelty Gin ghams, the sailor collar. “ turn-back ” culls. belt and shield are all trimmed with fancy white braid. 2. 3 and 4 year sizes. is an example of the low prices we are enabled to offer. $60-62 c—o—c—o—O West 23d St.,N. Y3 WWW—o The Story of . Puruana. \ Prof. Dixi Crosby, M. D., LL. D., who for thirty-two years was at the head of Dartmouth Medical College, belonged to the famous Crosby family of physicians, which for several gener- ations has furnished more distin- guished medical men than any other family in America. His father was Dr. Asa Crosby, of Dartmouth, who procured the charter of the State medical society, of which he was for thirty years a conspicuous member; one brother, Dr. Josiah Crosby,'in— vented the invalid bed and the method of making extensions of fractured limbs by adhesive strips; another brother, Dr. Thos. R. Crosby, was chief surgeon in Columbian College Hospital during the war, and later professor of animal and vegetable physiology at Dartmouth ”College; while Dr. Dixi Crosby himself was the inventor and discoverer of various important improvements in medicine and surgery, including a new and unique mode of reducing metacarpo- phalangeal dislocation, opening of ab- scess at hip-joint, etc., etc. 0 At the early age of twenty-four his extraordinary skill and success in over- coming disease had already attracted the attention of medical men through- out the-world, and won for him the highest honors. His greatest achieve- ment was the discovery of an original method for perfecting and compound- ing in permanent form what has be- come known as his “ prize formula,” and which, under the name of Puri— tina, is legally protected. The foundation of this remarkable medical discovery consists of simple New England roots and herbs, and the original family recipe for it has de- scended to the long line of Crosby physicians from their Puritan ances- tors. Its peculiar vegetable composi- tion rendered it necessary to brew it: whenever needed in the early days of its history, and after the scattering of the Puritan families to remote locali- ties, where the necessary ingredients were not‘ to be found, many attempts were made to put it up in permanent form, all of which failed until Dr. Dixi Crosby discovered means and methods, the result of which is: Nature’s Cure compounded in the ,laboratory of Common Sense. ‘ -. _ 4/-—‘. _,,. It curesfl‘om Izead to/oot. P . t Trade Marl: Cure For diseases of the Stomach Liver Heart Blood Kidneys ”‘1 ‘°’ Weak Lungs Starved Nerves F agged Brain It cures after everything else has failed. It cures cases that have been given up as hopeless: It cures pleasantly. Itcuxes positively. Itcures permanently. Puritana. is the_prize formula of Prof. Dixi Crosby, M. D., LL. D., for over 30 years at the head of Dartmouth Medical College. Get of our druggist this at disease-conquering dis. cpvpry (t e price is $1 for t 6 complete treatment, con- slstmg of one bottle of Puritans, one bottle of Puritans. Pills, and one bottle of Puritans Tablets, all enclosed in one plackage) or write us, and ymill bless the day when ' you card of Puritan». The tum Compomd Coy Concord,N.H. , x— — ..___. _ * Basrsco ; citizen of. Indiana in. her early dare. ' the night at a house on a lonely road. . man called Amos, sitting by the fire . started: away to the stable with the . “If I had $50," cried he, “I’d give it dren the most convenient, the most , ..—.........A_ . ..,,.
Norwalk Chronicler