NINE TIMES ON THE NINE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 7287, 15 August 1893, Page 4

NINE TIMES ON THE NINE.

“I’m aa pood a* dead. Use won nine times on the nine, and lost nine times on the seven. Give this note fo (he banker; he kcowa the address of my relatives," It was ia a garablissg house in Montana. The gambler who uttered these words threw down hie cards, rose from the table, and left the place. At early dawn the next morning the police found bis body in some shrubbery about a mile distant. His own pistol was full of cartridges; it had not been used, yet there was a bullet bole in bio left breast. Was there any mysterious prophecy in the cards, or was the gambler’s fear the outgrowth of superstition, and his death a coincidence P Everyone must decide for himself. .But people are often considered as good as dead fox a much more intelligible reason. Mr William Goble, of 104, Albion Street, Southwick, near Brighton, was recently placed on that list by his friends. In this case the danger was nob from powder or sharp steal but from something that hurries more folks out of the world than they do. His story is this: Looking at his tongue, one day in the spring of 1887, he found it coated like a piece of brown leather. Of itself this might not have worried him, but other signs and portents went with it. His appetite failed, and what

little be did eat seemed to cause great pain in his chest and sides. Now good food never acts that way when a man is in proper condition. Quite the contrary. What was the matter ? Writing about it under date of Nov. 26th, 1891, Mr Goble said s “ I couldn’t imagine what had come over me. Nothing like it had ever happened to me before. I had always been otrong and healthyBut now I had a foul taste in the mouth, and wind appeared to roll all over inside my body. 1 had a choking sensation in my throat, and sometimes my heart would boat to fast and so hard that it frightened mo. After a while I gob so weak I had to give up my work- I was almost too weak to walk, and when out walking I would get short of breath. Gradually I became weaker and weaker, and lost all my flash- I could just crawl about, and that was all. My cheeks were sunken, and I had such a pale ghastly look that my frianda said I was in a decline and would never be better. “ A doctor in Southwick said I was suffering from dyspepsia, but after be had treated me for nine months I worse than everAt this time, our clergyman, Bev Mr Heywood, recommended me to the Brighton Hospital, where I was under treatment for one year. Several of the doctors sounded my lungs and seemed puzzled by my complaint, and changed my medicines so often that I wandered if they would ever find the right remedy. At the end of the year I stopped going to the hospital, and began to take cod liver j oil, but it did no good, and I made up my mind that I wa* indeed doomed to death, and nothing could prevent it. “ Still I am alive and well to-day, and I’ll tell yau why in a few words. In April, 1889, I met with a friend of mine, Mr Groves of Southwick, who told me of his own illness and the great benefit he had received from Mother Seigel’s Curative Syrup. I got a bottle, and by the time I had finishsd it my food agreed with me and I felt a little stronger. Four more bottles completed the cure, and I have since enjoyed as good health as I ever did in my life. I am a gardener, and have been in the employ of General Turnbull, The Hermitage, Southwick, for ten years. I will gladly answer inquiries."—(Signed) William Goble. The Southwick doctor’s diagnosis was right j Mr Goble’s disease was indigestion and dyspepsia, some of the symptoms of whjch he names in his statement. His plain testimony will serve to strengthen, if necessary, the popular confidence in Mother Beigel’a Syrup as a cure for this prevailing and perplexing malady. The Southwick gardener lost two years’ time by not knowing what to do. But ha is vastly better than a dead man now, and will, we trust, live long to give others the benefit of his knowledge.