SHE WILL NEVER TELL THE SECRET.
Here is a piece, of glass ; it is oat into facets ; it is pare white glass ;it is fit to be one of the pendants hanging from a chandelier in a millionaire's drawing room i it is as big as a hazelnut. How it sparkles as I hold it np between my thumb and finger. Yet it is merely glass and scarcely worth a shilling. Oh ! if I only kuew how to turn it into a diamond !— a blue or a rose diamond ! Why, there are thousands who would give all their health, and then mortgage their souls, to buy it of me. Then good-bye to work and care, for I should be rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Who will show me the process? Alas ! nobody. Who will tell me how to transmute tin or copper into shining gold ? Alas! nobody. A bit of coal is carbon. A diamond is also carbon. Where is the link between them ? We yearn to know. Thousands of men have burned out life's candle in the effort to ascertain. How vainly ! In the bosom of her hills Nature Vides that secret, as she hides the secret of n an's destiny under mountains of ashes and crumbling bones. On our bended knees we beg her to break one unbroken seal, to speak one unspoken word. She only regards as with contemptuous pity and remains for ever dumb. Yet, is there no other jnystery t just as deep,' that comes home to your thoughts in a way to frighten you 1 ' Think a minute, man. What builds and repairs the house The lady proceeds to say that tier daughter was seventeen years of age when she was taken ill. This is the age of hope, brightness, vigour, and enjoyment, and, by rights, illness ought to be unknown to it. Still, she lost her strength and languished as though striken by time. She grew tired and weak, and could keep nothing on her stomach. She would, so her mother says, often throw np a quantity of green fluid as bitter as gall. This was bile, the fluid which in health nature takes from the blood and sends to the bowels to aid digestion there. The liver failing to do this work, the bile remains in the blood, and is returned to the stomach, which rejects it as a poison. That is a part of it. The rest saturates the body, producing headache, nervous depression and debility, bad dreams, cold hands and feet, furred tongue, yellow eyes and skin, dizziness, bad taste in the mouth, and the gulping up of a nauseating gas and slime, with loss of appetite and ambition for labour or pleasure. This state of things is often called a bilious attack, and is part of the results and symptoms of indigestion and dyspepsia. This affected life, to young or old, is one of constant misery. It is the sopper, the glass ; not the gold or the diamond. " This was my daughter's condition," adds her mother, " for nearly two years. She took various medicines, and was treated by aphysician, but without beneßt. She grew daily weaker, and with her decline our anxiety increased. We knew not what to do, nor where to look for help. " It was at this worrying time that we first heard of the preparation called Mother Seigel's Syrup, and read the statements of different persons who said they had derived great good from it. Thinking, or rather hoping, that it might avail something in my daughter's case, I procured a bottle from Mr Rogers, Drug Stores, Mullingar. To our great joy she found relief after taking the first bottle, and before the had finished the third one Bhe was completely cured, and has had no return of the complaint. I have since recommended Seigel's Syrup to many friends and neighbours. The facts in the case of my daughter are well known to Mr Rogers and others in the vicinity. I apend my initials and address, R. J. M., Slanemore, near Mullingar, Ireland." Mr Rogers certifies as follows : — " \ remember the lady above named informing me of the cure of her daughter by taking Seigels's Syrup, and can vouch for the accuracy of the statement. " RICHABD G. RODGBRB," "Mullingar, June 4, 1891." To rectr to our illustration, we may say that the remedy employed assisted nature to resuoie her work of producing the most precious of all her jewels— health and happiness.
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Bibliographic details
Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1901, 1 June 1892, Page 4
Word Count
746SHE WILL NEVER TELL THE SECRET. Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1901, 1 June 1892, Page 4
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