NINE TIMES ON THE NINE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 7295, 26 August 1893, Page 4

NINE TIMES ON THE NINE.

“ I’m ai good as dead. I’ve won nine times on the nine, and lost nine times on the sdven. Give this note to the banker; he knows the address of my relatives.” It was io a gambling bouse in Montana. The gambler who uttered these words threw down his cards, rose from the table, and left the place. At early dawn the next morning tbe police found his 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 his left breast. Was there any mysterious prophecy in the cards, or was the gambler’s fear tbe outgrowth of superstition, and his death a coincidence? Everyone mast decide for himself. Bat people are often considered as good as dead for a much more intelligible reason. Mr William Goble, of 104, Albion Street, Sonthwick, near Brighton, was recently placed on that list by his friends. In this case the danger was nob from powder or sharp steel, 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 he 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 : “ 1 couldn’t imagine what bad come over me. Nothing like it bad ever happened to me before. I had always been strong and healthy. But now I bad a foul taste in the mouth, and wind appeared to roll all over inside my body. I had a choking sensation in my throat, and sometimes my heart would beat so fast and so bard that it frightened me. After a while I got so weak 1 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 flesh. I could just crawl about, and that was all. My cheeks ’were sunken, and I had such a pale ghastly look that my friends said I was in a decline and would never be better. “ A doctor in Sonthwick said I was suffering from dyspepsia, but after be had treated me for nine months I worse than ever* At this time, our clergyman, Bev Mr Heywood, recommended me to tbe Brighton Hospital, where I was under treatmen t for one year. Several of tbe doctors sounded my lungs and seemed puzzled by my complaint, and changed my medicines so often that I wondered 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 oil, but it did no good, and I made up my mind that I was indeed doomed to death, and nothing oould 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 J Southwiok, 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 1 had finished 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. £ am a gardener, and have been in the employ of General Turnbull, The Hermitage, Southwiok, for ten years. I will gladly answer William Goble. 1 The Southwiok doctor’s diagnosis was right; Mr Goble’s disease was indigestion and dyspepsia, some of the symptoms of which he names in his statement. His plain testimony will serve to strengthen, if necessary, the popular confidence in Mother Seigel’s Syrup as a cure for this prevailing and perplexing malady. Tbe Southwiok gardener lost two years’ time by not knowing what to do. But be is vastly better than a dead man now, and will, we trust, live long to give others the of bis knowledge.