HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1906-12-27, Page 71
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1 DONALD
7
DONALDSO
A t
°s
I Al By HOWARD FIELDING
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Copyright, roe, by
Charles W. Hooke
*motion choked him as be tried to
:speak her name. He struggled with it
for an instant and then answered me
by throwing out his right arm so that
be pointed to the window and across
the broad lawn and nearly the whole
town beyond it, half a mile or more in
µii, to the house where Dorothy lived.
I undertttood him perfectly.
"You couldn't please me better than
that," said I. "With all my heart I
!wish you well."
Some days later Dorothy told me
that she was much more encouraged
about the school and that she had quite
given up the idea of going away. She
was devoted to the wofk, and yet I
knew that it was mot her success there-
in which had so lightened her heart.
When Hackett learned how matters
stood, he insisted that my theory about
a natural antipathy between psychics
lovas overthrown, but I preferred to re -
They were mrtrrted in my house.
igard the case as merely exceptional.
!Obviously the rule cannot be ironclad,
for if such were the fact occult powers
&would disappear from the world.
At any rate, this was a true love
match if ever there was one. Their
happiness brought out the noblest quai-
Sties of their hearts. They did wonder-
ful work that winter, both of them,
justifying my best hopes and winning
my warmest good will.
It was to be a long engagement.
Dorothy had mentioned two years, I
believe. But in the late spring we
planned to send Donaldson abroad,
with the result that Dorothy decided to
goo too. So they were married in my
bonne, which was rose bedecked for
the occasion. There were festivities
!which lasted until sundown, and then
iwhile some of the younger guests were
tying telltale ribbons to the carriage
that waited before my door the two
lovers escaped by another way and
ran hand in band like children across
the fields through the sweet June even-
ing. it appeared that they had secret-
ly sent all their baggage to the railroad
(station earlier in the day.
CHAPTER V.
IrtE 1t sTERT OL' TEE =rearm nOnfEn.
ONALD DONALDSON, JR.,
was born May 2, 1881. He
was the healthiest and alto-
gether the finest child that
lever came into the world, the most de -
Sired, the best loved. And whimsical
*nature exacted the smallest possible
{price of pain for hits.
Yet permit me to re"onsider that
(statement in the light of a better phi-
losophy. There are those who say that
in adversity one need not shout for the
awakening of the gods nor in the clay
bf superabundance dread it; that noth-
ing comes which is not earned. It may
be that a young mother reaped no more
ban the just reward of consistent right
wing from her earliest girlhood. Hove-
r that may be, the fact remains
' . ealtiav well.
old
Inds '
k Spot
t what form a
lay be sure it
aiest organ.
rrhal nature
)ally; with
and there
ehest
t
the
'eve
with
se's
.1 ins
ant'
tely
cep
the
Ad and
Henkel,
to.
that all things went mert:u,.,.,, .
Behold Dorothy, as pretty as ever and
not a day older, tripping about the
house with a song; behold the boy,
healthy as a young lion and roaring,
when he roared, for his own good
pleasure and not for any i11.
Hackett prophesied great things of
him, believing that bis exploits would
some day necessitate a revised edition
of our "Psychic Pacts," a work that
was then complete except for the last
section, which Hackett wished to en-
title "The Real Facts" despite the
imputation upon the accuracy of the
preceding portions.
As to his hopes of young Donald my
partner spoke only once in the pres-
ence of the boy's parents.
"You'd have thought 1 bad accused
him of being cross eyed," said be to me
in describing the incident, and there-
after we discussed the subject strictly
to private.
Our book eventually went to the
printer, but Hackett never saw it in a
binding. He was stricken with an ill-
ness which rushed to a fatal ter-
mination in that it seemed
all over in a day, and was standing by
the grave of my oldest friend. After-
ward I could hardly bear to look at the
book upon which we bad labored to-
gether. I left everything to others. It
had z small success and was soon for-
gotten, though recent events have led
the publishers to print some thousands
of copies from the old plates. The work
is full or unfounded belief and equally
unfounded doubt. I am proud only ot
the romper, which was mostly gecko
etre, a. natural, honest. seemingly
baeetess belief' is probably founded up-
on pew knowledge of the ages and the
soul's sympathy with infinite wisdom,
but your doubt is likely to be your
own, and you should he the more mod-
est in the expression of it.
Pardon this digression about "Psy-
chic Facts." The psychic fact with
whieh this present record principally
"oncerns itself le Domed I)onaidson,
Jr., and from this point onward I elan
stiek closely to him. I have given a
view of his parents because that was
absolutely necessary to an understand-
ing of his nature and of the events in
which he took part, I shall now very
briefly sketch his youth, which was
unmarked by any incident out of the
ordinary.
He was a healthy baby and a sturdy,
active schoolboy when the years bad
brought him onward to that stage of
life. Mentally he was too quick to re-
quire diligence. The tasks in the Tun-
bridge schools were easy for him, and
he led his classes without effort. It
must be remembered, however, that no
other pupil had equally good home
training. His mother was a teacher,
both by nature and by instruction. He
might have advanced more rapidly un-
der her care alone, but the public school
is a part of our creed in Tunbridge. If
any school in the town had not been a
good place for Donald, we should not
have taken him away. We .phould
have made the school better.
While upon this subject I will quoto
a curious remark that I once heard a
little girl mako to another in Don's
hearing and somewhat in the way of a
taunt:
"Don Donaldson always knows what
the teacher's going to ask him. He
guesses it before recitation and hunts
it up in his book."
I questioned the little girl, but could
not learn that she had any basis for
her belief except Donald's proficiency
in his studies and a vague tradition
that he "could guess things." It was
Impossible to discover any specific in.
stance worth mentioning. In the
sports of boys he was very successful,
but any boy will be so who grows up
ahead of his years. Prom the time
when he reached school age be was al-
ways growing more rapidly in height
and weight than the average, More-
over, he played with tremendous ener-
gy and conceutratlon. He was fond of
rough games, but neither suffered inju-
ry nor inflicted it. Indeed he presently
began to be known as "lucky," and if
I were to select one attribute of his
which never deserted him and seemed
always to make its impression upon his
associates I would choose his "luck."
For luck is a personal quality. It
means, as a rule, no more than an in-
stinctive aecuraey of judgment, the
power that makes a bird fly south in
the fall, though he knows nothing of
the danger which he is escaping, hav-
ing never seen a reinter.
If you tell me that it is rational supe-
riority which enables a boy to thrust
his head into a football scrimmage in
a place where it will not eneoutiter au•
• 1 "his feet
his skull of
• 1 fist or s
�l I. UI s
# bey
's
tend <i, : cep on doing this all through a
cltee en of the gone, 1 shall laugh at
sot', lett it is well known that injuries
met not equally distributed; that nei-
ther the strong nor the prudent es -
tee a them; that the boy 'who doesn't
ee tltutt is the one wile has the faculty,
rice textural gift, the instinctive t;uid-
:'„'e, the hick. And the world is a
k,ilt football faille, full of t'iying fs't8
i feet.
SO when I naythatl)onald was lucky I
decline to be aeeused of superstition or
of
fa
t
al
'cm
1➢
at which all of t
c
be-
lieve
in, though same of us afieet to
doubt it, the thins eaiied luck us a per-
tenal asset, is neither ortlimil•y' goad
autigtlient nor the laver of hear en. it
THE WING110 TIMES, DECEMBER 27 1906
is the faculty of relying upon it deep t
seated, guiding power resident it the
individual and nearly If not quite in.
fallible.
This power is not limited by the
fineness of the physical senses. It will <'
help you to dodge an invisible microbe
just as a more obvious instinct will
help you to dodge a snowball. It is
natural to step out of the snowball''
path, but if you hesitate and try to
reason about it you will get hit. And
the same thing is true of that mysteri-
ous force within you which is absolute-
ly at ono with nature.
In Donald there appeared a singular
combination of spontaneous judgment
and deliberate action. As a child ho
would respond to questions slowly and
with care. even when the expression
of his eyes showed that the correct
answer had flashed through his mind
instantly. His greatest and most ob-
stinate fault was secretiveness. Though
his nature was very affectionate and
his sympathy most tender, he lacked
the natural tendency to confide his
troubles, his joys or his hopes to those
he loved, even to his mother. IIe bad
no slyness. He was at no pains to
keep a secret. He simply said nothing
about it and gave no sign of its ex-
istence.
We were often grieved to find that
he had Ieft us in ignorance of some in-
cident of his daily life, some act nei-
ther praiseworthy nor blamable or one
perhaps involving a moral question be-
yond the appreciation of his years.
When reproved for such an omission,
his customary—and, I believe, sincere—
reply would be:
"Why, it never occurred to me that
you didn't know."
It was frequently necessary to give
hila quite an elaborate explanation be -
Nese he seemed to realize that we had
had no means of knowing.
By all this I do not apish to give the
impression that he was a markedly
phenomenal boy, but it is important, of
course, that I should point out all par -
hinters in which he differed from the
average. I have therefore with great
rare selected these three peculiarities:
IIe thought very quickly and spoke
very slowly.
He had an unconquerable habit of
I. keeping his own affairs to himself.
IIe enjoyed remarkably good fortune,
including a notable immunity from ill-
ness and injury, in which connection I
may record the fact that he never had
one of the so called diseases of child-
lio0dl.
in other respect, he was the typical
American boy. He payed as much as
possible and studio when his con-
science or his elders compelled him to
do so. He bad his friendships end his
childish loves. He romped gayly in
the long summer evenings and come
matted clever and amusing mischief
once in awhile, in regard to which I
think that even the recording angel
always waited for Donald's confes-
sion and never, attempted to know the
facts in advance of it.
' At the age of sixteen he was ready
for college. He was then six feet in
height and weighed 170 pounds. He
resembled both his parents, but was
generally called his mother's boy, for
he had her red gold bair and bright
blue eyes. His father's nature lay the
deeper in him. It came to the surface
most plainly in moments of excitement,
and at such times, even during his
childhood, young Donald would exhibit
the solemn, superficial calm and ex-
treme precision of speech which had al-
ways characterized the "deacon" when
in a high state of nervous tension.
If be had during his youth such
psychic experiences as are not the com-
mon lot of humanity, I was not able
to observe them. A few vague hints
of no more importance than the school-
girl's remark which I have quoted
would have been the best evidence
that I could have adduced previous to
the month of June in the year 1899.
We were expecting him home from
college in a week or two when we were
surprised by receiving this telegram:
Last exam. today. Leave immediately.
You will see me tomerrow.
We knew that he had intended to
stay beyond class day and that the'
varsity baseball nine, of which he was
a member, had not closed its season, so
the message puzzled us and' gave rise
to considerable anxiety. His mother
telegraphed for an explanation, but no
answer came, On the morrow, how-
ever, came Donald himself, hale and
happy, and handsome beyond the
dreams of romance. When we assailed
him with questions, he stared at us.
"Why, there's no particular reason
for my coming,'f said he. "I merely
felt like it; that's all."
Teams
Kidneys
W'enit Kidneys. surely point to weak 1.zudney
Nerves. The Kidneys, like the Hurt, and the
Stomach, find their weakness, not in the organ
itself. but in tho nerves that control and guide
and strengthen them. Dr. Shoop's Restorative is
1 a to o,iiefale specifically prepared to reach these
controlling nerves. To doctor the Kidneys alone.
is futile. It is a. waste of time, and of money as
Weil.
I1 our bacir aches or is weak, if the urine
scald:. or is dark and strong. if you have symptoms
of Nights or other distressing or dangerous kid.
ney disease, try Dr. *hoop's Restorative a month—
. Tablets or Liquid --and see what it can and will
do :or you. Druggist recommend and sell
•
Suffered Terrible Ago►Ly
FROM PAIN ACROSS
HIS KIDNEYS.
el AN'S
;1 iONEV PILE.
CULS�� II H �.., .
�Y VF G41i
fa
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Pill,. Ole a...nesus) I'.rthe l•a-tthree ytars
1 bare ruffe:pd ter.1A10 ano:;y f..iaa Fain aeras
lov i.i.iseys. I was so bad I c..u1.1 rut ?foals
er 1:wAd. I eorc.•u1te,1 anti had reveite 'octets
oval tee. but auultl f;: t no relief. tin the advizo
If/ africi:.1.1 proeurod all.,? of r rialucide
ii`o•Giviart eche ly ;Duan': Iri...,I S l .1'.r, aa.d to
aur• furp :•e sad delight.'? iat9, :r: only go
wetter. maga op;n' •ah)•.';I::t%ilh_e• i';iishave
a..o,ionli.rwee a.aauf 1i.laryIto tie.'
l)aari n Sildut y
Tills ai 5d cent:, ,air bas or
than hosezfia' S1.0. tan to leu, ur"1 at sal
i
.t.f
A,�•a.t,,a t,r :till 1, i,arnl a t , r
o.:co t:y
;the 1)t,au Itianey Vol Ca.. Tarasta
ill! J! enett c,,IL L is Lai;st:tote but Le
tine and *et "
Sh op's
Ast rain
\VALLEY'S DRUG S'fGRE.
•
Then after a pause he added:
"I wonder why the dickens I did
come? I can't think, unless it was be-
causie I wanted to see my very best
girl."
Whereupon he put his arni across
his mother's shoulders and kissed her
tenderly upon the forehead and hair.
To all appearances Dorothy might in-
deed have been his "very best girl" or
perhaps his sister, but surely not his
mother. She bad preserved her youth-
ful looks to a degree that is beyond the
credence of the reader, so that I shall
not attempt to state the truth about it.
When she was thirty, the Tunbridge
people spoke of her with wonder, and
she looks younger now than she did
then.
Donaldson, upon the other hand, bas
aged greatly. He is a worrying man,
I am afraid, and must always be so.
Moreover, he received a peculiar in-
jury some years ago, when an old fac-
tory building which we bought from
the Strobel estate collapsed while a
dozen of our workmen were inspect-
ing it with a view to ascertaining its
needs. Donaldson was the first to per-
ceive the peril, and it is said that he
sustained a mass of falling timbers in
the posture of Atlas long enough
to permit several of his companions to
crawl out to safety who would other-
wise have been shut in. A. maze of
tradition bas grown up around this in-
cident, but it really involved nothing
more than a very ready and brave use
of great physical strength. Though he
escaped broken bones or any specific
hurt to which the best of doctors could
give a location or a name, he was never
the same man afterward. He began
to stoop in the shoulders and to move
more slowly, and upon his forty-sec-
ond birthday his hair was as white as
mine.
He was morbidly sensitive about the
change in his looks, though be had
come by it so honorably, and I have
seen tears in his eyes when strangers
have spoken of Dorothy as his daugh-
ter. I think that he had always held
too high an idea of youth. It is a com-
mon fault and was exaggerated in Mm
by his love of Dorothy, who would not
grow old. She seemed to stand still
while he was dragged onward in the
grip of time. This is the natural sor-
row of women, but one which men are
rarely called upon to bear.
When Donald came home that June
day, his father was busy about some
matter of immediate importance, and
so the boy and I walked down to the of-
fice, as we call it, a separate building
upon the other side( the street from
the factory. I was .witness of a most
affectionate greeting. Donaldson was
very proud of lits son, as he has every
reason to be, and the boy loved him
heartily. Afterward Donald paid his
respects to the office staff, especially to
old Jim Bunn, our cashier, and Iris
crippled assistant, Tim Healy, some-
times called Tiny Tim, a youth who sat
on a very high stool and kept the hand-
somest set of books in the state of New
Jersey.
I lost sight of Donald for a little
while and subsequently discovered him
in my private office. He was sitting in
my chair, with his head throw: n back
Mad his clasped hands press[ tl hard
across his eyes. I asked him a t.:it was
the natter, and he started up end be-
gan to walk around the room :_: a pe-
culiar, aimless fashion.
"Uncle John," said he at last, "every-
thing is all right, isn't it? You're not
worried or nnfiious?"
""Antlnus?"ts'i l 1. "!'ort: inky not.
What should 11 1 e anxious about?"
el don't la w: said 1te, with hesita•
tion. "I'eth. s 1 oughtn't to have ask-
ed you the q1 ,stien."
"Aiti The • is ttevt'r you please. his
:toy; sold 1.
De r.'•-:'au1:'s rt st't ss in't'ri'.at.:
tL"'rt . h:
at ..a:. 1 .
"What is it all a.,"it? 1 don't
Ile had a de I ..e'::t slid ttn'nn'utt d
air. Red the se .;t et 1t t':+tett d the back
ti 41:00 many t Us to the :lay when 1
led tii:d 5.(e'ie ,iti tatiae't: It rang itll-
1.6:.;4ii1ie to : la,: c my mine ti'p*t' of ties
ane:nery. 'i'➢.e t'ee':,e' of long ago. in
fertrinit s +'ntitie le Aust' teeerred with
sta:l'tk.5 t t it idnt s,a.
1 ria$Warn t ie St1:Inge :.S:11
that this wils)is•+:t.t;l,>ng t'a;0n
fen' ssleeh I
boo. bets n:ait4eg- a s.ug teapeeted ve-
eua-tt'aee'. 'tl: re (:Buie to use shs0 an
indes:t t!b:?htf. Iltt:'s:.:tr_i o1'tpitat nut]
Seise. 6ciur f OWL,
e t I.
"I yt+ jbil 11),, w1"-- I lie'Jti> diet he
tat 1 ,e;➢
int' hael:iy that to ask him ave -
thing.
"This is a queer business, rncle
John," said he. "I think, I'In on the
point of getting myself into all ldnda
of a tangle, and I don't want to do it
the very first day I'in bottle. Please
let me think it over."
"Speak when you are ready, Donald,"
said I. "It was always a habit ot
yours."
We were Interrupted by the advent
of Dorothy, who bad come down from
the house in a pony phaeton. She wore
a sober gray gown, but it bad the dain-
ty grace of all her raiment. Dorothy
never takes any pains to dress either
young or old. Her clothes are for Dor-
othy. They would not suit anybody
else, and they have nothing to do with
years.
Donald surveyed her with affection-
ate admiration.
" hly incredible mother!" said he,
drawing her close to him and looking
down into her face.
Then I saw the tears come suddenly
into his eyes. He drew a quick, deep
breath and stood sharply erect, so that
he seemed to grow both in breadth and
height, while she looked almost like a
frightened child in the embrace of his
arm.
Be careful!" she cried, with a gasp
and a laugh. "You will break my
bones t"
"Did I hurt you, little mother?" said
he, "Well, by the same token, nobody
else ever shall."
"To what do we owe the honor of
this visit?" I asked Dorothy, and she
replied that she had come to take my
nephew, Carleton Archer, across to the
town of Solway, where our other fac-
tory was situated. Archer was an
able, energetic and ambitious young
man who had been brought into my
service about two years before to be
Donaldson's assistant and lighten his
burdens. He lived at my house and
was the leading spirit in all our recre-
ations. He was blessed with unfailing
activity of mind and body. He could
both work and play at the same time.
Often he has come to me at midnight
with business plans that he had
thought out during the evening, an
evening devoted to ceaseless gayety of
the somewhat cbildish sort in which
he found his chief delight and relaxa-
tion. He was an enthusiast for the
gentler forms of athletics, such as wo-
men may indulge in, and as a result
of his efforts there were tennis courts
upon our lawn and golf links on the
south slope of the hill.
After Dorothy and Carl haul ridden
away in the phaeton Donald remained
with me until luncheon time, when he
and his father and I walked up to the
house together. The boy was not quite
himself, as any one could see, and I ;
was consumed with curiosity to know
what lay on his mind, but experience
taught me to ignore the subject.
Donald spent the afternoon with hi
mother, who returned from Solwatr.
which was only a matter of five mass
distant, in time for luncheon. In the
evening he disappeared, and I found
l
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NEW YORK.
Bears the
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of
In
Use
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Thirty Years
CASTORIA..ti
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EXACT COPY OF WRAPPER.
thought I wasn't quite— quite right
There have been some stories about
me:"
"Both your parents," said 1, "pos-
sessed a power which I once thought
myself competent to define and ex-
plain, but I have grown more modest."
"Once possessed it?" he echoed, with
what I might call joyful animation.
"Then it's something a person can get
rid of, outgrow? You don't always
have to have it?"
"I think you know more about the
subject than I do," was my answer,
"and if you don't now you will some
day."
"I'd like to have you tell me about
my father and mother and the things
that they did," said be, "but I mustn't
ask you, because I tried to get it out
of them long ago, and they didn't want
nae to know."
I applauded this view, and so we
spoke of other subjects as ;lire walked
home together.
CHAPTER VI.
s tiTERY OV THE EXPERTED ROBBER
(CONTINUED).
BOUT 5 o'clock in the follow-
ing
ollowing afternoon Donald came to
me as I sat alone in my work-
room at me omee.
"Uncle John," said he, "I have de-
cided to make a startling and terrible
fool of myself once and for all and
have it over with. If I do, you'll for-
give me, won't you? 1 wish you'd give
me permission to do any idiotic thing
that comes into my mind. It's better
than getting drunk, as some fellows at
college do, and running around with
all kinds of people, but their parents
forgive them,"
I told him that it would indeed be a:
startling and terrible thing which could
make him any less my boy than be had
always been.
"Then it's all settled," *aid he, "
here goes!"
IIe strode up to a safe that Was in
the room, a small safe compared to
those in the outer office, yet of a new:
style and very strong.
"In that safe," said he, "there are
two packages of money. They are in
brown paper, with rubber bands around
them. One of them is not quite so,
thick as a pack of cards, and the other
is thicker than two packs. The larger
one is on top."
(To be continued.)
��'_ rtijfL
"Be careful!" she cried.
him about 9 o'clock sitting on the
steps of the office. I don't know hose
' I happened to go down there and ,
should be inclined to include it among
the mysteries of the affair.
• "Uncle John," said he when I sat
down beside him, "you told mo that I
eould ask you whatever I pleased.
Will you tell me whether you are sur-
rounded by thoroughly trustworthy
people in your business?"
This was a rather startling question,
and I answered it with another:
"Do you know anything to the con-
trary?"
i"No," he replied. "If I did, I'd tell
you, of course. I don't know anything,
but I feel a lot! Is Mr. Bunn a good
plan?"
I replied that old Jim 'Bunn had been
1 with me for thirty years and might be
banked upon so long as be lasted,
wheat couldn't 1'e very long, pour fel.
$ lora, sieve his health rets' so bad. lite
then ,taC cd ore a 'similar question in
re..ard to every other person holding
9 '\ '1
/ 1'1
n .iii II of :my consequence 3 in he
ty
ill t
3
1 r•::t:lanin+. even including Otis own fa
ther, though of course It was not a
query in this ease, but a naive and boy-
ish espre:sion of t'onfide:VP. I an-
swered soberly for thena all that they
were good wen mud true and even en-
tered into some explanation of my
method of judges'„ wen.
Denali? seemed nether discouraged
than cheered'.
"It must be semetiaing Circ,'" rend he.
' "You have ft feeling that all's nut
eat here," said I. 'Is that vvhy you
came home so ssd&-nig:"
"Yes, sir," be replied, and then. with
Le s:tntk a: 'Do J'vu 10 410.0 there's
eiiytl?ing queer !:boat sae? I've al-
` Ways had an imi:rcesion that sea
eL'I fSi • v EN\c
4
o
is only another Way of saying " Ambition. " 'tip' :til :rs
ambitious ---we all want to reach the trop, but if Lite first
few rungs in the ladder of :+needy? are uliseilrg, it's Feeley
hard to get a foothold, isn't it ?
Begin right and attend tile. Foe: o r Cm. rival:ass &
St1ARTfIAND Cotentin. Nothing; is taught that is not needed
in business life. The rungs are all in Bret ladder, and wllt'n
you graduate you stated atone on a firm tuuudfiiion.
Business and Shorthand work our specialty.
Write for our catalogue ; it's free.
School terns : September till June, inclusive.
Forest City Business Co1kkge
J. W. WESTERVELT, Pri.CIrel. V. Nal. C. A. t"31ctC3., LOnt$ W.
MRION F,eLxAt^441[= , iVKWA1I2G50°- TIE... 7 ,i y y LI j
E$TORED
rs
I
1
Y
_au.d
� N Y kE GA
Ile New iiiettsod Tr—cement cs
X. X. has restated
ti „ors
t6v t.
Klit=ia"sed 11,•.C13i'
to roust teete.hi. a:U
=aatt er bow many Gl tore Mat e farlea to
'aurorae also tee. t (sees lei t a ffear .' l
tad yen acid d:.tt a: ;'::t at. 't t: st:; ;.,
anree cal tea:.: ra v:e net eel l for to atmeat,
Not A dollar treed Cue paid iac18 ett�e d
for yea eon pay nift:r y as ort: Cir 4i.
Drs 1s. Sz a.. t i t,-. iY tJ t i
cleat Varicocele. Netreetti4>! eb11-
$$y,eatrieture, blecel DDsea cs, leiditte
latialcier sad Vs.' nnr;, ! e; . Jr
P. t..;.
1).to eci:l, v.ate for «t- a -,, ., 1 See ter
Iic>:.e 's1aeutc::". consultation fry*.
NOT A DOLLAR t pro 1NE
-Alp UNLESS C 'RE•#U.
14!4 3hit1%"4 fhw..t,
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