The Hattiesburg news., 1913-06-17
THE SECRET or
LONESOME COVE
Continued from Page Two.)
CHAPTER VII
Simon p. eroot Does Business.

Simon p. Groot Does Business.
To his surprise, Kent, turning into
the village Square, found the crowd
still lingering. A new focus of inter
est had drawn it to spot opposite
Sterrett's store, where a wagon deco.
rated in the most advanced style of
circus art, shone 1rilliant in yellow
and green. Bright red letters across
the front presented TO public admira-
ton the legend:
Simon P Groot
Simon Pure Gods.
A stout projection rested on one of
the rear wheels. Here stood the pro-
prietor of the vehicle while behind
him in a window were displayed his
, wares. 1t was evident that Simon p.
Groot followed the romantic career of
an itinerant hawker, dealing in that
wide range of commodities roughly
comprised in the quaint term, Yankee
notions" Before the merchandising
voice came to the new arrivals ears
ss anything more than confused jun
BILE, Kent was struck with the ex-
pansive splendor of the mans ges-
lures, the dignity of his robust figure,
and the beauty of broad whitening
beard that spread sidewise like the
ripples from a boats stem. Two
blemishes unhappily marred the maj
esty of Simon P. Groot's presence; a
pair of pin-head eyes, mutually attract
ed to each other, and mean and strin-
gent little voice. Freed of these draw
backs, his oratory might well, one
could not but feel, have rolled in any
of our legislative chambers more SUI
perbly and just as Intellectually as
much of the other oratory therein
practised. That the Analakans were
/, truly spellbound by it was obvious
Indeed, Kent was at loss to under
stand the depth of their absorption
until he had come within the scope o.
the high-piping words.
There, gentlemen and ladies'" 81
mon P. Groot was saying, there il
that place of vast silences and infold
ing shadows | met and addressed on'
who was soon to be no more. Madam
l said, you are worn. You are wan
You are weary. Trust the chivalry o
one who might be your father. Res
and be comforted as with balm
Standing by the roadside, she droppe
like a flower. There is no rest fo
me- said she in mournful tones.
must away upon my mission Stay
bade her. Ere you go, but touc
your lips to this revivifying f1agor
De Lorimer's Life Giving Tonic, fire.
from intoxicants, poisons, and decel
tions, a boon to the blood, balm {
the nerves, prop to the f1aggin
spirit She looked, she tasted, sh
drank. New color sprang to he
: cheeks. Her form pulsated with jo
GUS vigor. Aged SIR said she,
know not your name; but If the bles
4ngs of a harried spirit are of ava
your sleep will be sweet this nigh
OF this wonderful balm, ladies ar
gentlemen of Annalaka, have still
few bottles left at the low price
half dollar each. Sickness flies b
fore it. Amaigamating at once wi
the blood, 1t clears the precious IL
fluid of all impurities, and rehabi
tates man, woman, and child, bod
soul and mind"
The shiill voice rose and fell, t
wide beard quivered with the passi
of salesmanship, the gaudy bottles
the shelf we're replaced by half-dolla
until the market tagged. Whereup
again the orator took up his tale.
Ever shall give thanks for tn
inestimable privilege, the privilege