Page 4 Advertisements Column 1

South Canterbury Times, Issue 6345, 13 October 1890, Page 4

CADBURY’S iOOOOA. The Medical Annual advises Practitioners to remember that when recommending Cocoa as a food and beverage for invalids, the name CadbueY on any packet of Cocoa is a guarantee of purity, The London Times believes that the eventual result of the American Silver Coinage Act will be the adoption by America of a silver standard. 18 DEAFNESS INCURABLE P J. H. NiOHOiiSON, of 175 William Street, Melbourne, has proved otherwise by making a complete cure of dbapnbbs and noisbs in THE HEAD OP OVBE4O YBABS’ STANDING, by a simple remedy and without the use of any " clap-trap ” so called electro-medication treatment. A full description of this remedy, which has cured thousands, of other of long standing, will be sent FREE on application. Advice Free. —Consult, personally or by letter, Mrs Louisa Hawkins, herbalist, 140, George street, Dunedin. Send stamp for reply. Mrs Louisa Hawkins’ female pills correct all ailments to whichladies are subject. Safe and always reliable. Price 2s 6d, 3s Sd, and Sn box. Forwarded on receipt of stamps or postal orders. —f Advt.]

THE MISER’S DIAMOND NECKLACE In the year 1740 there in the Latin quarter in Paris, a famous miser named Jean Avere. The wealth concealed in the obscure rookery where he resided was believed to be fabulous, and was no doubt very great. Among his treasures was a celebrated diamond necklace of immense value. This he concealed so carefully that he ultimately forgot its hiding place himself. He sought diligently for weeks, and, failing to find it, bee ;me almost insane. This rendered him even leas capable of remembrance, and he took to his bed broken in body as in mind. A few weeks later a doctor and an old woman, who had sometimes done odd jobs about his house, were both at his bedside, seeing that the end was near. As the clock in the neighbouring tower tolled one he ceased his low muttering and sat up and shrieked, “ X remember where it is now. I can put my hand on the necklace. For God’s sake let me go for it before 1 forgot it again!” Here his weakness and excitement overcame him, and he sank back among his rags, stone dead. Physicians and students are familiar with these sudden outfiashings of memory at the great crisis of human fate. Let the reader consider this while we relate an episode in the humble career of a Signalman, Andrew Agge, who may be found on duty in his box at Culgaith, a little station on the Midland, twenty three miles south of Carlisle. Mr Agge is on duty nearly every day, and must break his fast without leaving his post. The confinement and mental strain tell on the system. The strongest man cannot stand it long without feeling its effects. It makes one think of the passionate exclamation in Tom Hood’s “ Song of the Shirt,” “ Ob, God ! that bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap.” Our friend had been at the same work for many years, although he was only thirty-five when these lines were written. In 1884 he began to feel that he was about to break down. “ I don’t know what ails me,” he would say, “ but I can’t eat." What he forced down produced no sense of satisfaction or strength. Sometimes he was alarmed at finding he could scarcely walk on account of giddiness. He said to himself, “ What if I should be seized with this at some moment when there is trouble on the line, and I need all my wits about me ?’’ Other features of this ailment were pains in the chest and sides, costiveness, yellow skin and eyes, bad taste in the mouth, risings of foul gas in the throat, etc. The doctor said Agge must give up his confining work or risk nttcr disability. He could not. Wife and children were in the way. So he remained at his post and grew wprse. But his work was always right, telegrams were properly received and sent j and no train got into trouble through any neglect pr fault of his. His disease —indigestion and dyspepsia—took a step further, and brought on kidney and bladder trouble. The doctor, at Appleby, said, “Mr Agge, you are poisoned with the foul stuff in your stomach and blood.” His doom seemed to be sealed. It was like a death warrant. Six months more rolled by. On duty one morning he was attacked with so great and so sharp a distress he could neither sit nor stand. He says : " I tumbled down on that locker and lay there all the forenoon. Signals might be given, the telegraph needle might click, but I heeded them no more than a man in the grave heeds the beating of the rain against his own tombstone.” He was alone at first, but help arrived, and the poor signalman was carried home. Physicians laboured on his case without avail. Around his bed were his five little children, the mother being absent in an institution, to be treated for a serious ailment Here ho lay for weeks, part of the time unconscious. Nothing was to be done but to wait for the end. Then the torpid faculties awakened for a moment. Memory flashed up, and he recalled the fact that a medicine which he had wed with benefit years before and then throion aside and forgotten, was concealed in a secret place at the signal box. He sent for it and took a dose.. Soon his bowels moved, the kidneys acted, the pain was ceased, he felt better. With brightened hope he to Carlisle for more. It arrived. He used it, and in a few days the doctors were astonished to find their patient out of doors, and on the road to recovery. He regained his health completely, and, in speaking of his experience, said to the writer, “What a wonderful thing it was that, on what' promised to be my death-bed, I suddenly remembered where I had put that halfused bottle of Mother Seigel’s Curative Syrup. That flash of memoryJSprobably saved me from death.”