{ title: 'The Ekalaka Eagle (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1923-current, September 28, 1923, Page 8, Image 8', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn85053092/1923-09-28/ed-1/seq-8.png', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn85053092/1923-09-28/ed-1/seq-8.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn85053092/1923-09-28/ed-1/seq-8/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn85053092/1923-09-28/ed-1/seq-8/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
About The Ekalaka Eagle (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1923-current | View This Issue
The Ekalaka Eagle (Ekalaka, Mont.), 28 Sept. 1923, located at <http://montananewspapers.org/lccn/sn85053092/1923-09-28/ed-1/seq-8/>, image provided by MONTANA NEWSPAPERS, Montana Historical Society, Helena, Montana.
•9119 - s GIFT OF \PM YOUR HUSBAND\ SYNOPSIS.—On the isolated Meager ranch, on the southern border, Deborah Meredith, trained curse, is in attendance on Mrs. Meager, whose husband has re- cently been killed. Immediately after the death, Bob Meager, Mrs. Meager'. stepson, arrives and takes possession. He insults Deborah and she resolves to leave, but there seems no possi- bility of her getting away. Mea- ger gloats over Deborah's plight. He tells her he has sent for a justice of the peace, who will marry them tomorrow. Horn -- tied, the girl secures a revolver. Ths Justice, Cornelius Garrity, scoundrel and bosom friend of Meager, arr*es with a party, among them' the \Frisco Kid,\ notorious desperado. Despite Deborah's protests the justice performs the marriage ceremony. She escapes and reaches her MOTO. CHAPTER V The Blow in the Dark. Debor^h, the revolver held tightly In her fingers, moved silently back into the darkest corner of the room, and crouched there listening. If those men entered that door' she meant to shoot, and shoot to kill. This one deadly purpose was all she was conscious of, or eared for. Perhaps in some vague way, Meager outs have realized her desperation. He \mew nothing of her being armed, yet, t seen In his drunkenness, had learned Ileasething of her temper, and hesi- tated to face her immediately. Why should he run the risk? He already had attained his principal object; they were married, and he could wait until her anger subsided somewhat before &averting his legal rights. Meanwhile the boys were waiting for their drinks, and he felt more inclined to celebrate the victory along with them and let tomorrow take care of Itself. Some faint conception of this situa- tion occurred to her, as she crouched there in the dark watchfully waiting, yet remained undisturbed. The ten- sion relaxed, and she felt again her womanly weakness, her questioning and despair. She laid the revolver be- side her on the floor and buckled the belt with its load of cartridges about her waist; then picked the weapon up once again and rested it on her knee. She was no longer crazed, but able to think clearly and decide what to at- tempt next. Meager's action could mean but one thing—his utter confidence that she was already securely in his power. She could not escape, she would be waiting there for him when he was ready to possess her. What difference dit an hour make; she was his wife; when he was drunk enough, reckless enough, he would come to claim her. Well, let him come; mile would con- tinue to welt, and he should have his welcome. Ills wife! She might be his widow before dawn. flhe did not move for a long, long time; did not take her eyes from the einfled door, or release her grip on the revolver. She felt cold, tireless, actuates' only by a relentless hatred. She wished he would come so that it *night he over with. But nothing hap- pened, and, little by little, her mood changed. The strain began to tell, began to break down her resolution, left her doubtful and afraid. She ven- tured to open the door a slight crack and peep cautiously out into the hall; 1,1 wasdeserted, not e‘en a guard had stationed there, hut the door at the farther end, leading into the liv- ing room, had been left open, and she could hear the men in there making merry. It was a babel of voices at tIrwt; thec, someone began to sing a ribald song In English, and at the first line she drew hack, shutting out the tuviteful /mend with a feeling of au- prem. disgust. 'Trembling from head to foot, she 'crossed to the window and looked out Into the cool mists of the night. No guard had been posted here either. livIdently she had been left perfectly rime to go or come RR She pleased, yet title fully underatood how limited that freedom was. She might flee from the !mese, but thtit was all; the bor- der -a of the ranch were still her prison walk*, the efficient guard those sand /deserts stretching In every direction. trackless and Impassable on foot, vast, waterless leagues, where she would perteh miserably. A light still burned In the bunkhouse, hut the building sercned deserted. Once two men peened down the hill, leaning heavily ttpon each other, staggering and sing- ing. disappearing finally through the open door. She woe still staring after them, when a sound from behind sud- denly caused her to fare about. A fumbling hand was lifting the iron latch; the door was being pressed open with an effort at silence. Mo- 'Ionian, breathless with apprehension, the girl watched the entering beam of light broaden until Bob Meager Mood riwayIng in the doorway, clutching at the knob to steady himself. He did riot see her at first, his bloodshot eyes blindly searching the apartment; then he intist have perceived her outline 'Whist the window, for he lurched for- ward, giving vent to an exclamation of relief. so you are here, waiting for We? D—d If I didn't think maybe goird taken a chance outside. Too *taste sensible, .ain't you? I thought likely you'd come, to your senses if I baft you here alone awhile. Going to Be good to me now, you little cat? Reyt what you got to sa.y for your - ...C. anyWbWr THE EKALAKA EAGLE HE DESER By Randall Parrish and If so, his follmers would be slow to discover what had happened, and Copyright by A. C. McClurg & Co. would possess no leadership. This, inevitably would mean delay. While, even if' the fellow should live, hours surely must elapse before he could take the trail. With a good horse under her, she would be beyond sight out on the desert, riding straight for those two peaks old Tom Meager had pointed out to her as marking the No- gales trail. With such it start In the race there was surely a chance to alit. Her pulses throbbed exultantly at this sudden awakening of hope, and, without so much as another glance at the body prostrate on the floor, she hurried to carry out her plans. An unrecognized Mexican lay in drunken slumber, curled up like a dog, on the floor of the passage, but she found no difficulty in passing the fel- low, She neither heard nor saw any of the others, as she made her way tnrough the rear door and across the few feet of open space dividing the main house from the detached kitchen. There was a lamp burning in the lat- ter, and the remains of fire in the stove, but no occupant. Deborah knew the place well, and lost no time In gathering together what food she required, fortunate enough to discover a small sack in which it could be con- veniently transported. The effort had proven easy and safe so far, and her heart beat hopefully as she emerged from the kitchen, thus equipped. Now if she could only pro- cure a horse, escape actually appeared possible. Doubtless the ranch horses had all been turned loose in the large corral. She had no means of catching these half -broken animals, but it might he that the horses ridden by the party arriving during the evening had been put up in the stable, ready for immediate use. These were weary enough from their desert trip when they arrived, but that was hours ago; they must have been fed and watered since, and, with the rest, would be fairly tit by this time for another journey. They were wiry broncos, able to endure any amount of hard- ship. It was then she remembered the horse the \Frisco Kid\ had been riding. Even in the darkness she had marked the fine, blooded lines of the animal, the far better condition in which he appeared to be. If she could only lay hands on him. \Frisco Kid!\ What had ever be- come of the fellow? She wondered as she slowly made her way down the slope, keeping as far from the bunk- house as possible. She had neither \Only this; don't you come another step toward me.\ He burst into a gruff laugh, slapping his knee, \The h—I you say! Who do You think I am, anyhow? Some kid afraid of a woman? Say, listen, that's no way for a wife to welcome her hus- band. I got a right here, and you bet I'm going to stay. Got an idea you can bluff me, I reckon. Well, I ain't that kind, an' you might as aril learn it now as later. This is our wedding night. Here's where I ought to be, ain't It? Say, why don't you say some- thing? What you going to do?\ \I am going to kill you, Bob Mea- ger,\ she said coldly, \unless you leave this room.\ \Kill me! Why, you blame little fool. I could crush the life out o' you with one hand—see, just like that. And by 0 d, I got the right if you get too gay. I'm your husband, ain't I? That's what the law says, and I'm going to be your husband, you can bet your life on that. Think you'll scare rue, do you?\ he burst into an ugly laugh. \Not this time, you won't.\ He turned and closed the door; then crossed the room toward her, reeling drunkenly, yet quite able to retain his feet. The starlight rendered his features visible. Her motionless si- lence caused him to pause. \Pretty d—n still, ain't you?\ he ex- claimed, peering at her suspiciously; \why don't you talk? When I speak to a wcirnan I want her to say some- thing.\ \Tt.ere is nothing more for me to say.\ \Only that you're going to kill me if I touch you, hey? All right, then; here's your chance.\ He took two steps toward her, his hands reaching out eagerly, his face thrust forward. Then he stopped sud- denly, with startled eyes staring into the leveled muzzle of the .44, his lips giving suppressed utterance to a swift ejaculation. \I'll be d—d!\ \Put your hands up, Bob Meager!\ the words were icy cold. \Up I say! Don't fool with me now. Turn around and go out that door. I am not play- ing; this means your life or mine. Go!\ He cringed back, cowardly, yet with drunken cunning. Desperate as she was, there was hesitation in the girl's action. Dintry he grasped the truth that she shrank from the necessity of shooting; that she would actually pull the trigger only as a lest resort. He took the chance. \Sure he muttered, \you got the drop and I cave. So long, honey.\ He half turned away, reeling drunk- enly, then suddenly, unexpectedly, flung his body directly at her, crush- ing her back against the wall, both falling together, the weave , undis- charged beneath her body. I t, sur- prising as the essatet was, she had yet escaped the grip of his hands, and was on her knees again before he could move. The revolver was her only weapon, but in the fall she had lost grip of the stock. It lay there glitter- ing in the starlight, and, desperate, maddened by the danger, obeying the first wild instinct of the instant, she snatched it up by the barrel and struck with all her force at the man's head. The fellow gave utterance to no moan, lea limbs twitched, and then he lay motionless, his face against the floor. Deborah slowly lifted her body, shrinking hack from the darkly out- lined form, beginning to comprehend with horror what she had done. She still held tight to the weapon with which she had dealt the blow, although realizing that she no longer required its protection. The silence was terri- fying; her nerves tingled painfully, she found difficulty in breathing. Was the man dead? Had she actually killed him with that one hasty brow? She could scarcely realize the possibility, and yet she had struck with all her force, driven to it by terror uncontrol- lable. She shrank now from even touching him; nurse as she was, hav- ing witnessed death in every form of horror, and ministered to wounds of every degree, she would not place hand on this man, whether he lived or died, lierepresented to her mind all that was base and evil; she was glad she had struck him down. But what now? This question over- shadowed all eke. The thing she had been imagining for so long find at last come to page. Ile had come to her, come claiming her with Insult and out- rage, and she had actually dealt the blow of which she had dreamed. lier courege had not failed her, and he was lying there now in the darkness at her feet, sorely wounded, perhaps dead. It was her act; she had done it—what now? She had never faced this situ- ation before, the aftermath. Whether Meager was dead or alive, site must get away. Better to face any danger of the great desert titan remain where she wee, with not a friend to counsel or protect her, not a white man to whom she could appeal. The girl thrust the revolver hnek Into its holster at her waist, anti glanced out through the window Into the quiet night. Of two evils, the des. ert, or these lawless men, she cheep the less cruel, the desert. If she was fit die, It would be, at least, in honor. lance decided, her mind worked rap- idly. In all probability not a man re- mained sober about the home ranch; if any horses had been left In the stable, she therefore ought to get Rev. oral hours the start of a pursuing party. She believed Meager was dead, She Hurried to Carry Out Her Plane, seen nor heard of him since that first meeting with Meager. Perhaps he was among those drunken dogs in the liv- ing room, sleeping off their carousal; yet somehow she did not believe it. Someway his voice and manner bad strangely impressed her as different; he did not belong with that crew. Out- law, desperado, she knew him to be, a man with a price on his head, yet, surely he was no drunken. royatering brute. He had not even gone into the house; , she was sure of that now, re- membering clearly. Ile had led the horses away, while the other two en- tered with Meager. Nor heti he re- turned later; not at least while she was at the window, and he was not In attendance at the wedding. Then the truth suddenly occurred to her—the man was hiding out. lie dare not risk drinking, or being shut up In a house. Ile was a hunted creature, watchful of treachery in every human being. Ile could trust to no one, not even his companions In crime; there was tt • reword for him, dead or alive. He would be out yon- der in the dark somewhere, alone, he anti his horse, wakening at the slight- est sound. Perhaps he would be the one she needed to fear the most, when the pursuit started. These thoughts flashed swiftly through her mind, al- most unconsciously, as she Rtole for- ward ellently through the shadows. She passed a figure lying in the trail, too drunk even to reach the bunk- house, but as she crept past the open door she RRVI no signs of any oc- cupants within. Except for the few line - riders, and that outlaw hiding In some thicket of chaparral, the whole per- sonnel of the ranch Were stupefied with liquor, indifferent to any occurrence going on about them. A bit. reckless now, because et dill knowledge i the girl ventured thrbugli the great open door of the stable, and began groping her way forwsza searching the stalls. The first was empty, and, as she started to advance toward the second, she came to a su& den pause, with heart leaping into her throat—there had been a sound at has' left, a rustling of straw, as though something had made a quick niove- went, She listened intently, drawing a breath of relief at the succeeding silence. No doubt it was a horse etir- ring, or possibly a rat. Then a voice spoke sternly not three feet away. \Put up your hernia! Who are you? What are you doing in here?\ She obeyed Instinetively, too fright- ened to even speak, dropping the bag to the floor, forgetting completely the revolver buckled about her waist. A hand reached forward out of the darkness and gripped her upraised arm; she was conscious of the close presence of a man, yet for the Instaat retained no power of movement. \Why don't you speak?\ said the same voice, impatiently, evidently an- gered at her silence. \What are you sneaking about in here for? Well, I'll be d—d!\ . his tone changing, \If I don't believe It's a woman.\ \It is a woman,\ she managed to reply falteringly. \But—but does that make any difference?\ He laughed, a certain relief evi- denced in the sound, although he did not in any way relax his vigilance. \Well I confess it might,\ he ad- mitted, \for you are a most unusual discovery in this section. I was look- ing for almost anything else. You be- long with this outfit?\ \To the Meager ranch, you mean? Yes—that is, I have been employed here. You—you are not a Mexican, are you?\ • \I should say not. I belong north of the line, if that's any relief to you. And what's more, if you want to be square with me, I'll play fair on my side. You believe that?\ \I shall have to; it wouldn't do me any good to lie.\ \I reckon not; so let's get it over with; who are you?\ \Deborah Meredith,\ she explained, rather eagerly. \I—I am a profes- sional nurse; my home is in Chicago. Tom Meager employed me to come out here and take care of his wife. Are you a friend of Bob Meager's? The man chuckled, and she knew he had put away the weapon he had held In his hand. \Well he's got an Idea that I am. We've run about together a bit, I ad- mit; which confession maybe is no rec- ommendation to you.\ \No. it is not.\ \I thought likely It wouldn't be. So you and Bob are not good friends?\ \I despise and hate him; he is a drunken brute.\ \Granted freely; but If you feel that way, why did you remain here on the ranch?\ \Bcvcause I have had no chance to get away since his father died. I could not desert my patient, and be- sides, had no reason to suppose Bob would come hack and take possession. He was a fugitive from justice; his father had lost all faith in him, and— and I had reason to believe he had been shut out from all right to this property.\ \You had reason to believe? What reason? I am not asking merely from curiosity; I want to understand the entire situation. I already have an idea what this means; you are en- deavoring to escape stoner' \It seemed my only chance,\ she confessed. \But I am talking with a stranger; perhaps' I trust you too much. You are not employed here?\ \No; I just blew in last night.\ \What is your name?\ \Daniel Kelleen.\ \You are not a cow -puncher surely' You—you have education.\ He laughed good-humoredly. \Nevertheless I am quite accus- tomed to cow -punching. Perhaps Tye had a trifle more schooling than some of the boys. Now let me have the straight of this affair, and then we'll get busy. Tell It to me from the first.\ Deborah stared at the man's dim outline through the darkness. If she could only see the expression of his face. And there was no choice left her—she must trust him blindly, ab- solutely; he could defend or betray her at his own will. So clear was this situation she scarcely hesitated. \You killed him? You did? Say, I like you. You are sure some girl.\ (TO BE CONTINUED.) Irish Opera by German. It is strange that one of the most \Irish\ of Irish operas should come from a German musician, hut it Is nevertheless a fact that the typical Irish opera, \The Lily of Killarney,\ was composed by a German, Jullue Benedict. But Benedict. says the Morning Post, was a clever man, and the Irish idiom in Its broad aspect is easy to assume. While speaking with an Irish accent he said many beautiful things, and. the airs \Eileen Mavour- neen\ and \I'm lone\ would give dis- tinction to any opera that dealt In melody, and sixty years have not dimmed the charm of Benedict's melo- dies. Wanted to Be There. The great banker lay on his death' bed. Many of his friends were gath- ered about his bedside to be with him -at the last. The attending physician whispered to the group: \I fear he Is nearing the Great Divide.\ \Tell them not . to divide until I get there,\ whispered the dying banker.—Forbef Magazine, COOLIDOES FOND OF PLAIN FOOD \Mao Their Boston Waiter, Talks About Their Simpte Gastronomlo Tastes. Boston, Mass.—Much has been writ- ten lately about the simple tastes and unassuming waya of Calvin Coolidge, 4 now President of the United States, and of Mrs. Coolidge, and those whe are well acquainted with them say this simplicity permeates their life. When Co4 , 311dge was governor of Mas- sachusetts he and Mrs. Coolidge made their home at the Adams house, and their regular waiter there, \Mac who Is known to many hundreds of Boa- tonlans, told a writer for the Boston Sunday Advertiser a lot about their gastronomical tastes. Said he: \Their breakfast order was always the same—`Two Special No. l's, grape- fruit for Mrs. Coolidge and orange for me.' \Special No. I never varied. It consisted of two small pots of coffee, graham muffins and fruit. \Mr. Coolidge would give the order and caU for a clean glass and a whole orange. He would squeeze the orange himself into the glass, and drink the juice. Silent at Meals. \Mrs. Coolidge always had half a grapefruit. \They were generally alone at break- fast, as their boys were at school and only vi. ted them in vacation time. Once, though, when the boys were there, they wanted ham and eggs for breakfast. Mrs. Coolidge ordered It for them, but when the governor found It out, he frowned on giving the kids meat for breakfast. \They were seldom at my table for lunch, as they were both Olen gone all day. But they would he back for Boner, unless they were dining out. \Then Mrs. Coolidge used to order a chop—the way you do,\ interpolated \Mac Who has an uncanny memory for the likes and dislikes of every one of his patrons. \Sometimes oh, would have a steak. But Mr. Coolidge always made his din- ner on cereal—usually grape nuts and tell or milk. \Ile was Just as quiet at their family meals as lie is in public life. Hardly ?ver said a word. Breakfust over, he would go evilly in silence. *They seldom n had guests, except Mr. Doi Mrs. Frank W. Stearns, who were with them frequently. \Sometimes there would be one or two others with them at dinner, on ivose occasions Mrs. Coolidge would try every way in the world to get him It) Join in the conversation. Nothing doing. Ile would look and listen, but nervily ever opened his mouth—except for his grape nuts. Once In a while he could shoot a little smile—like this—\ Ind for n fleeting instant \Mac\ was the living image of the President. [Aiming back to his natural expree- ;hat, which Is intense but amiable, Mac\ continued; \Ile Is n herd man to get at, if you (new what I mean. But when you ance do get at him, you find he has one of the beat hearts In the world. All Liked Mrs. Coolidge. \But for kIntineas and a charming munner combined, Mrs. Coolidge was the one. Every waiter In the dining room liked to serve her. She was al- ways considerate, always appreciative for anything done for her. If Mrs. Coolidge once knew you, she knew you ?verywhere, no matter where she hap- pened to meet you. In the hotel cor- ridor, or in the street, she would al- wuys how. She's n fine woman. \I used to look at those boys, and their good manners, and wonder how she did It. But then, bringing up 4IX. (Six little McKemighs, remem- ber.) said to one of my begs the other day, 'Look at young Calvin Coolidge. Ills Where Provident of the United States, and he's looking for farm work at e3.50 a day. I suppose If I was president you'd be wanting to take it easy in the White House.'\ A — Healthy Climate. \You louto go to ter nealthiest neighborhood you (tin find,\ sell the endnent Hpechtlist to Mr. Forsythe. 'And when you get there you must stuy there for six months and have thoroughly good rest.\ In due course Mr. Forsythe arrived at the seaside tmvn lie lind selected end Inquired of one of the old !ninth- 'tante If It wee tt really healthy neigh- borhood. -Well, you see Inc.\ snit' the old mute wilt' %VCR a tine specimen of !width end vigor. \w.ten I came here I couldn't well( armee the room Juni I luidn't the strength to titter ti single went. I IIIIIr on my head mind I lind tll Ile lifted on anti 'or the bed.' \Ali you give me Iii v-tm II ml. ''how long here?\ \I wits horn here,\ hope,\ saki the have you been weft the reply Name of Crabapple. The mime ernimpple Itoptatris to he of Scandinavian origin, anti akin to the Swedish \krehheple says Nature Niagnzine. Skeet otters the explana- tion that the Swedish word is related to the name \krabba as applied to the sea creature. He adds that appli- cation of the word to the fruit was perhaps \from some notion of pinch- ing, in allusion to the extreme sour- ness of the taste\ of the crabapple. In this he finds resemblance to the \pinching\ action of the claws of the crustatean. ...ow ea.. • .1,..••••••ama,aalbirmaravamo aarda anrammainalana A universal costes .After that benefits every - Every k 4 Y. Aids digestion, N eal cleanses the teeth, / soothes the throat. ag°°dthing to remember Sealed -In Its Purity Package THE FLAVOR LASTS `I - LIARNAUTOMECHANICS ‘ \ ths largest Prim:Meal Mechanical School \ Garages tpectilly dernend evr les as \ \ \tics. s: ,._ WPITE \ ' \ HANSON AUTO TRACTOR SCHCOL. i'•iiu P' \ <, ‘ 0 *&1 it ‘\\ ‹.\-\. : .\ : SPOHN DI S IF NI PF 1? /4? ' f COM PC) U N1) A safe, dependable and effective remedy for Coughs, Colds, Distemper, Influenza, Heaves and Worms among horses and mules. Absolutely harmless, and as safe for colts as it is for stallions, mares or geldlnp. Give \Spohn's\ occasionally as a preventive. Sold itt all drug stores. SPOI Pi MEDICAL (O. GOSHEN. ! N D. U S.A. W. N. U., BILLINGS, NO. 39-1923. l)reanvers won't work; so they'd better entertain, If You Need a Medicine You Should Have the Best Have you ever stopped to reason why It is that so many products that are ex- tensively advertised, all at once drop out of sight and are soon forgotten? The reason is plain—the article did not fulfill the promises of the manufacturer. This applies more particularly to a medicine. A medicinal preparation that has real curative value almost sells itself, as like an endless chain system the remedy is reeernmended by those who have been benefited to those who are in need of it. A prominent druggist says, \Take for example Dr. Kilmer's Swamp -Root, a preparation I have sold for many years and never hesitate to recommend, for in almost every case it shows excellent re- sults, as many of my customers testify. N. other kidney remedy has so large a sale.\ According to worn statements and verieed testimony of thousands who have need the preparation, the slICCVIS of Dr. Kilmer's Swamp-Roob is due to the fact, so many people claim, that it fulfills al - melt every wish in overcoming kidney. liver and bladder ailments, corrects uri- nary troubles and neutralizes the uric acid which causes rheumatism. You may receive a sample bottle of Swamp -Root by parcel post. Address Dr. Kilicer & Co., Binghamton, N. Y., and endow, ten cents; also mention this paper. Large and medium size bottles for sale at ill drug stores.—Advertisement. PLACE BLAME ON CLIMATE Heavy Fogs and Disagreeable Weather May Be Responsible for Europe's Troubles. French ittivtil experts IIIIVe illsrov- ered as a result of molti meneuvera that a !textile fleet yen !a.m.!' the French cites1 without difficulty when- ever it rim enlist the friendly services of the rieinnel fee, end they ( 11 11 0 11( 1 e that coast defenses should he nettle more. rether then less, effective. lite thiinuttic argument for preparedness Is not often miviinced, end it linty hi . a gond one. A French vialtor Imre thnt the Americen climate makes Antericnns optimistic end cheer NI. le the clittotte, lifter till. a chief reuse of Eurttpe's troubles?-11aiti- 11more Sun. Surprise In Sight. 'I don't know WI' tire coming to.\ \All the better. You'll have a, nice supriee when we get to R. - - Louisville Ceurlerallturntil. Frnnknese sibout oneself Is regfirded with tedoniRitment by genie natures. They never reciprocute. Can't , Sleep?' When Coffee disag rees ° Drink Postum u Rea S 7liere' s 9
