INTIMATE STRANGERS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIII, Issue XIX, 4 November 1899, Page 812

INTIMATE STRANGERS.

Suppose a man to have lived fifty years without ever having seen the reflection of his own face. Now lead him before a mirror and let him have a look. He will, of course, recognise the outlines and general appearance of his body; but his features will be as new and strange to him as those of a person he has never before met. Y'et he has worn that mask all his life; has touched it with his hands times beyond counting; has by means of it expressed the feelings and passions of half a century; has heard its peculiarities remarked upon by others —yet, bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh as it is, the glass presents it to his gaze as a novelty. Fortunately Nature has so made us that we are commonly satisfied with our looks, otherwise this man might curse the hour he first beheld his own countenance.

On a page of a book which lies on my table this bright morning is a picture which—were it published without title or descriptiou—probably the most of us would not understand; yet the original is vitally important to every human being. No mirror throws back its structure to the eye, nor has the owner ever laid hands on it. Nevertheless its name is daily on our lips, and on its faithful performance of duty largely depend our efficiency and happiness. Still, people are continually alluding to it in words of wailing and complaint. They find no end of fault with it when it goes wrong, and when it goes right seldom pay it the compliment of doing good work. “The way of the world,” you remind me; “alas! the way of the world.” For example, here is one who says that in the early part of 1890 she began to suffer from a bad stomach and indigestion- Now the stomach tries to be good and not bad. It makes constant and mighty efforts to accomplish its task and so furnish t..e rest of the body with health, strength, and beauty; but it often fails dismally, and then its owner characterises it as a “bad” stomach.

Now who, or what is accountable? Continuing, our correspondent adds: “I had no relish for food, and after eating I had pain at the chest and sides. Whatever kind of food I took nothing agreed with me. I made use of various medicines in hopes of relief, but none of them did me any good. At last a neighbour, Mrs Tyrell, told me how she had benefited —having had the same complaint—by Mother Seigel’s Syrup, and recommended me to try it. Somewhat encouraged by what she said, I procured a bottle of this remedy, and soon found that it relieved me as nothing else had done. I could eat better, all food agreed with me, and I felt better every way. Since that time—now four years ago—l have kept well, taking an occasional dose of the Syrup when I seemed to need it. My daughter suffered from the same' trouble, and Mother Seigel’s Syrup had the like good effect in her case. You art at liberty to make any use you likt of this statement.”—(Signed) Mrs Elizabeth Naulty, Foresters’ Arms Inn. 96, Scouringburn, Dundee, July 2nd, 1897.

This lady’s stomach did not became “bad” of “malice prepense and aforethought” as the lawyers say of certain criminals. The cause lay in the conditions of her life, her habits of eating, may be—with, possibly, inherited weakness. There are so many things, and combinations of things, that tend to produce or develop dyspepsia, it is hard to trace them in individual instances. The symptoms (or consequences), however, are more numerous, dangerous, and deceptive than the uninstructed imagine. It is for this reason that so great a multitude of alleged “dyspepsia remedies” are prepared. But the “bad” stomach having been slow to abandon duty and strike work, does not respond to any and all sorts of drugs that may be thrown hopefully into it. The cure must be exactly adapted to the disease, and if there is a medicine which so perfectly meets this requirement as Mother Seigel’s Syrup, the world has not yet heard of it. The tired and inflamed organ receives it for the genuine stimulus and healer that it is—and the “bad” stomach is changed back into a good one. You now guess what that picture on my table represents—n machine in your body vou will never see. hut which in other ways yon may study and know more about.