Page 3 Advertisements Column 2

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXI, Issue 58, 5 October 1916, Page 3

LIVERISHNESS THE JOV-KIILEE D.id you ever know a cheerful, happy-igp-lucky chap, one of the buoyant, successful sort, who was liverish ? just think it over ! The man who is periodically troubled with his liver simply can't be cheerful or happy He feels too miserable, and often too irritable and out-of-sorts to raise a smild. He does not meet you in a morning with the glad light of welcome i\i the eye, and the hearty handshake. And whv not ? Why, because liverishness is a joy-killer, a smile banisher. ' When a man has a “ liver,” he feels more like' hitting the other fellow in the. eye! rather than slapping him on the backhand shouting “ How are you, old boy ? ” He wants to crouch in a chair, hug his misery "and brood over his present difficulties, and the possible misfortunes looming in the near future. As has been well said, liverishness distils bad temper as surely as the sun dispels the morning mist. It is so ! The great men of the world, the great thinkers, the men who have done things, are not liverish. And if you want to be like them, and to do things, ypu must get the liver imo a sound and healthily active condition, for liverishness is the enemy of achievement. A.few doses of a time-proved stomach and liver corrective and tonic such as Mother Seigel’s Syrup is generally all that is needed to ensure the regular and even flow of bile so necessary to the perfect digestion of food and the regular daily action of the bowels. It is a simple matter to take thirty-drops of Mother Seigel’s Syrup in a little water whenever you feel the tendency to liverishness or have partaken heartily of food that is liable to disagree.with you; yet thousands of people avoid the consequences of biliousness and indigestion in just this simple way.

I cannot sing the old sweet songs Which 1 siiotdd sing to-night, I’ve lost my voice, and have no choice, Because of bronchial blight: 15i,it very soon I'll be in tune. And sing them all. be sure. ’ll change my moans to dulcet tones, V," ' Woods' (I rent Poppermiss t ure