Democratic Sentinel, Volume 12, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1888 — Page 6

EASIER FLOWERS. BY ANNA CERES FBITSCH. “When springtime sunbeams call again to life Palo Easter flowers in dell and wooded glen, Will I return to claim thee as my wife, And naught but death shall part us two again. “Of my true love let these the token be, These Easter flowers, dear, of faith's own hue; When seas between us roll they’ll breathe to thee My changeless love, from fragrant petals blue.” She took the blossoms from her lover’s hand—(Alas for trusting love that casts out fear!) While he drained pleasure's cup in foreign land, Next to her heart she wore his gift so dear. But when another springtime’s Easter flowers Hailed the glad sunshine from their mossy bed, When summer days and dreamy autumn hours And dreary winter once again had fled And brought him not, the maiden drooped and die.l Like the frail flowers her faithless lover gave; On her cold heart his cherished gift they laid, With pale, blue Easter flowers they decked her grave.

SHE'S SO GIDDY.

BY ABBIE C. M’KEEVER.

“Papa, I want some money." “So do I, my pet, a good deal.” “I know, but I am in sober earnest. Pu-g—he’s a bad doggie, a dreadful fellow, and he quite spoiled my best hat, and Ido need-a new one so much.” “Where was your best hat, pet, that naughty Pug found it?” “On the floor,” said Susan, her elder sister, “she keeps her things there generally. ” “Now Susan, what a fib! But it

must have rolled off the bed where I’d laid it, and it wasn’t a very nice one, papa, because Susan, as my elder, hands down her old things to me and calls them new—for me.” “Ruby, my child, how can you!” “But mamma, you know it was true in this instance. Wasn’t my best hat, that Pug chewed up, one of Susan’s old ones on a new frame?” “It was a lovely hat, and you are a dreadful girl to talk so to papa,” exclaimed Susan, a little hotly. “There! Susan, dear, don’t! You’re old enough to know better than to quarrel with me, and I’m young enough to wear your old things, and look lovely—at least Harry Fane says so,” smiled Ruby, roguishly. “Harry Fane is—oh, as dreadful in his manners as you are. I do wonder that papa encourages his attentions.” “Do you, papa?” laughed Ruby. “ ’Cause if you do I can guess why. His father’s rich, and —and, he’s a splendid fellow. But, papa, you know I cannot attend Easter service without a new bonnet. I’ll make five dollars answer.” “Five dollars’ don’t grow on bushes, pet; but here it is, and Ido wish you’d .stop fussing and quibbling with your sister.” “She ought to have got married long ago, and there’d been only me to have dressed then.” “Ruby!” But her mother’s horrified exclamations and reproofs were quite lost, as the girl, with a merry, teazing laugh, ran out of the room, the five-dollar bill held fast in her hand. “She’s only in fun,” said the father. “Susan, you are too old to mind such teasing. It’s a pity you couldn’t take it differently.” With which comforting (?) remark the old gentleman took up his newspaper and began to read, while Susan, aged twenty-eight, and anything but handsome, bent her head over her sewing to hide her silly tears. Suddenly her father lowered his paper and said:

“Susan, my dear, don’t you want a new Easter bonnet? Here is a five for you. I don’t like to appear partial. ” “But my best hat was not turn up, papa. ” “Never mind; keep the money. I dare say you ve none too plenty. 5 *

They were practicing for the service on the morrow, and the grand anthem soared and fell; the organ seemed full of a hundred-voiced sweet songsters under the skillful touch of Susan’s slender hands. “How grandly she plays, and, oh, what a voice!” whispered one of those who lingered at the door. “She does such good work, too, among the parish. Nearly all her wages as music teacher go for charity. But, oh! isn’t that little sister a beauty?” “A badly spoiled one, I should say, from the way that she snapped at her sister a moment ago.” The night set in darkly, and a slow rain was falling. Dr. Rupert Fane could with difficulty see the way in the dense woodland through which ran a country road. Slush, slush, and splash, splash! “Goodness me!” he thought, ruefully, “why can’t folks be sick in pleasant weather? Old Granny Simpson’s no worse, I dare say; for fear she is, however, I could not refuse. What’s the matter, Dobbin?” “It’s only I, Susan Clare, Doctor.” “In the name of Moses! child, what are you doing here at this time of night? Goodness! get in my gig, at once—there’s plenty of room. Now, tell me what it means?” “I have been at Granny Simpson’s, and—and—she will not need you now, for she is dead. ” “Dead! yojj don’t say so! Dead! Well, I knew she was liable to go at any moment. Poor old lady! Who did you leave with the little granddaughter?” “Mrs. Smith and her son Joe. Everything is arranged for the funeral day after to-morrow.”

“Indeed! Did she have any money! I thought ” “She had a little, and we took up a small collection so she can have a resting place that is paid for.” “You are very kind and brave, Miss Susan.” “Oh, no, I made no sacrifice; don’t mistake me. It was only an Easter bonnet went in as my share.” “Some women folks would call that a good deal; but here we are at your gate! Your feet and skirts must be wet. You’ll be sick; go in and change at once.” The doctor’s prophecy was correct. Susan was ill on the morrow and could only speak in a whisper. “I’m sorry,” she said to Ruby, who was bowing and smiling at a lovely image in the mirror, “but you will certainly have to take my place in the choir.” “On Susan, I can’t! Harry is to be

there, and I know I’ll make a mess of it. You must go.” “No; it is impossible. Come and go over it in the parlor, there is plenty of time.” , Ruby managed to do passably, but Susan saw them depart with dread. “She’s so giddy—oh, dear; how my head aches!” Doctor Fane looked up when the notes of the opening anthem first begun. He was a music lover as well as his son who sat beside him. “What’s the matter with the music?” he said to Harry in much surprise. “That’s not Miss Clare?” The boy merely shook his head and tried not to hear the discords, musing: “I thought she could do better than that, and with such splendid opportunities how careless she must have been. ” But when all was over, the bad music was soon forgotten at sight of the beautiful face under the “killing” bonnet—at least by Harry Fane. While the doctor made it a special point to call that very afternoon, for he knew Miss Susan must be ill. “Oh, no, I’m not,” croaked Susan, blushing; “it’s only a—a little cold.” “Serious things come from colds, frequently; but, Susan, my dear, I didn’t cbme altogether profess onally—that is—oh, pshaw! I want you to be my wife, that’s all.” Susan regarded him in extreme astonishment, and had indeed lost even her hoarse voice. “I’ve admired you always, and—and last night when you told about your Easter bonnet, your lost Easter bonnet, I knew then that I loved you and had loved you a long time. ” — 5 “Susan, are you going to be my atep-

mother ?” laughed little Ruby, pinching her sister’s hot cheek. “Do you think I’ll mind you a bit better than I do now ? I won’t, either, unless Harry makes me; but I’m awfully proud of you since you have made up your mind to marry that nice, rich doctor. I don’t admire old maids, though, of course, I always loved you. But the future Mrs. Rupert Fane is a somebody, indeed.” “Children,” said the father, laying down his newspaper, “you’ll never change your natures, and it’s only an old story after al!, that from what I can learn, came of two Easter bonnets —one that was purchased and one that was not, eh?” Ruby clasped her hands in delight. “Yes, papa, you are correct; but which one was the prettiest?” Her father answers, ser.ously, “Susan’s, my pet. ”

IT WAS ALL A DREAM.

BY JEFFIE FOBBUSH HANAFORD.

The holidays were over, and the large dry-goods establishment of “Tompkins, Powell <t Co.” was fast assuming Its general every-day appearance. Business was very quiet, compared with the great rush of the previous weeks. Ihe clerks stood chatting withone another, and making remarks about the few customers who strolled in with an I-don’t-know-what-I-came-for air, and straightway strolled out again without purchasing anything. The millinery department on the second floor was entirely deserted as far as customers was concerned. Behind one of the large glass cases, filled with flowers of every conceivable shade, and beautiful feathers in all the latest tints reposing on a bed of soft black velvet, stood a young girl, gazing, with a wistful look in her big blue eyes, at a bunch of beautiful pale ostrich Jtips which she held in her hand. Her hair was short and curly, with a glint of red in it, and her plain black dress, although of cheap material, fitted her slender ligure to perfection. Only sixteen, very pretty, and very poor. Ah! how she longed for fine clothes and the luxuries money could buy. But, alas! her father was dead, and she was the eldest of five children, and obliged to work for her daily bread. She lilted the bunch of pink tips tenderly, and laid them inside of, the case. Such finery was not for* her, and a tear dimmed the blue eyes and rolled down the pretty cheek. Ah! how tired she was; for the past two weeks the work bad been very hard for one so inexperienced as Delna Kingston. Obliged to stand up all day, and show one bunch of flowers, then another, to crowds of richly dressed ladies, who were all so undecided as to what color they really did want. Delna remembered it all with a sigh as she glanced up at the big clock on the wall. Only half-past 1 nearly five hours longer. Oh, dear! how her head ached. Only one customer had been near the feather counter dining the morning—a lady who came to exchange the very bunch of pink tips she had just replaced in the case.

The lady said she had decided to have pale-green tips instead of pink. Again Delna glanced at the clock. How slowly the hands move. Twenty-five minutes of two! Hark! What was that? The sweetest music Delna had ever heard, like'little bells. And listen! —someone is speaking; it cannot be—yes, it is the bunch of pink tips. “Glad to get back? No, I can’t say that I am, for the lady that bought me put me on the loveliest pink plush bonnet I ever saw, and 1 know I looked well. Then I had a very pleasant time, for I went to the opera twice and to a grand reception, all inside of two days.” “Ah! how nice,” murmured a bright red rose. “■Yes, it was nice,” continued the pink tips, “nice while it lasted, but I was so angry when I heard the lady tell Miss Delna that she had scarcely had me out of the box, for on comparing me with the shade of plush on the bonnet she saw at once that we did not harmonize, and she preferred green.” “It is a shamq,” spoke up a cluster of white lilies, indignantly. “A lady purchased me and said I was for a bride to wear. She took me home, and that very evening the bride, a lovely blonde, fastened me among the soft, rich 1 ice on her breast. I looked even better than the real flowers, for I never fade. I felt a glow of pride as I nestled close to the beautiful white lace, and I thought what a happy life was before me. But alas! the very next day I was exchanged for a bunch of scarlet roses. ’’ And, saying this, the white lilies relapsed into silence. “Well! it is very pleasant here,” ventured a spray of white daisies, quietly. “Yes, very pleasant,.and Miss Delna is very tender of us all,” said the blue violets, thoughtfully. “Let me tell my experience,” spoke up a bunch of ostrich tips, of an exquisite shade of green. “A lady returned me last week, after keeping me three days, and during that time was I utterly miserable, if you will believe it. She selected me for a hat of blue velvet—just think of it—green and blue. It is a wonder I survived. I had the ‘blues’ all the time I was there, and was delighted when I found myself back here once more. ”

“That was a dreadful experience,” said a cluster of lovely white roses. “1 can sympathize with you, for, if anything, my fate was even more heartrending than vours.” The green tips rustled softly, and looked interested. “Yes,” continued the white roses, speaking very slowly. “I was very unfortunate. A woman bought me, and paid for me. I didn’t like her appearance, but I was obliged to go with her. It was a long, long distance to her house, and she walked every step of the way, and carried me in a thin— ven/ fftin paste-board box. 0, but it was cold.” And the white roses shivered at the remembrance. it was cold, I can tell vou; quite a contrast to this warm case. Well, at last she arrived at home and threw the box, that I was in, into the lap of a young girl, who was sitting by the window. The girl tore open the box and snatched—yes, actually snatched me out, not very tenderly, I can assure you; then she turned me over and over, pulled me this way and that, and finally she spoke. You can imagine the tone of her voice; the words were these:

Ob, tna, why didn’t you get red roses? That’s what I sent for; white ones gets dirty so quick.’ “‘La. child!’said the mother, ‘them’s the nicest, red ones looks so cheap;’ then she grabbed me and put me up to her nose. I can’t begin to tell you what I suffered. I prayed Hie. Then the girl spoke again: f “ ’Give ’em to me, ma. I shan't keep em. lIP exchange ’dm, to-morrow, for red ones. I guess I know what I want.’ “And she pushed me back into the box, utterly regardless of the fact that she crushed all my pretty white peials. Ah! I am v> ry glad she returned me; I am happy hero.”

And the white roses nestled lovingly against black velvet with a contented sigh. “lour experience should make us all contented with our present quiet, uneventful life,” said a long grav ostrich plume, and the pink tips all nodded approval. "Very true,” said a cluster of bright purple pansies. “I was longing to go forth into the world, but from now on, lam content to remain here under Miss Delna’s kind protecting care.” There was a soft rustle of approbation among the beautiful moss rose buds, and Delna made up her mind she would speak to them, but hark! —what was that? some one calling her name? Where was she? What had happened? “.Viis3 Kingston,” it was the voice of the floor-walker, “Miss Kingston, are you ill?” Delna lifted her head, and looked around quite bewildered. There was the case before her filled with flowers and feathers, all in perfect order. Not a flutter, not a murmur, dead silence over all. And there was the big clock on the wall, the hands pointing to quarter of two.

Delna drew her hand* across her eyes, and managed to stammer, “I am quite well, sir, ” when she suddenly bebame aware there was a lady present also. Then the floor-walker spoke again. “Miss Kingston, this lady wishes to exchange some flowers she purchased yesterday.” And saying this he walked away to the farther end of the room. Delna took the returned flowers, a bunch of beautiful scarlet poppies, and replaced them in the case, at the same time wondering if they were glad to get back again, and at the lady’s request placed several clusters of roses—yellow, scarlet, pink, and white—on top of the case for her inspection. After considerable reflection the lady decided she would have the pink roses, but as soon as Delna had them snugly laid in a box, and nicely fastened with a small cord, the lady changed her mind and said she preferred the yellow ones. At last she was satisfied, and took her departure, leaving Delna once more alone with the flowers, the feathers, and her thoughts. “It was all a dream,” she said, with a regretful sigh. “AU a dream, and yet it was true—all true.”

Not a Wretch.

A haggard-looking tramp stopped at a house in Kentucky and called for the “landlord.” Old Major Bowles, a wellknown character in central Kentucky, stepped out on the gallery and in a rather ungentle voice demanded: “ W hat do you want here, sah ? ” “My dear sir,” said the tramp, taking off his tattered hat and bowing with a sort of meek despair, “you see me in hard luck.” “Damn your luck!” exclaimed the Major. “I can heartily indorse that sentiment,” replied the tramp, “but I am not here to indorse or to receive indorsement but to ask for something to sustain the body. lam starving.” “That’s not my fault, ” said the Major. “The world is pretty well filled with just such starving fellows as you are, but I have never heard of one of them dying. I don’t mind giving a a man a little something to eat, but I’ll be blowed if I intend to encourage your infernal laziness. Like all the rest of your tribe, I suppose that you claim to be quite a respectable fellow. ”

“Yes, sir.” “Of course. And I- reckon you once had money.” “Yes, sir.” “Of course. But you lost it on account of a rascally partner.” “No, sir.” “Stocks went down, then.” “No, -I had nothing to do with stocks.” “Well, then, the bank broke.” “I had nothing to do with banks.” “ Why, this is strange. Over-cropped yourself and there came a drouth.” “No, I had nothing to do with farming.” “Xs it possible!” said the Major, now keenly interested. “Oh, I see, you bought a steamboat.” “No.” “Saw-mill?” “No, sir.” “And yet you had money and lost it?” “Yes, sir.” “But how?” “I lost it playing poker.” u “What!” exclaimed the Major. K Why, my dear sir, you are not the rascal I took you lor. Why, you are a man of nerve and spirit. Come in, and help yourself to anything there is in the house.”— Arkansaw Traveler.

Semper Hide ’Em.

In this transitory world, my son, there is one thing that never changes; that is the yellow backed railway guide "which the train boy sells you. The changing seasons come and go, moons wax and wane, the stars may fade and the sun grow cold, but the railway guide that is sold on the train goes calmly on with its ready set matter, placidly sending out long-abandoned trains to “Iv.” long-forgotten stations, and “arr.” at termini buried long since in oblivion and drifting sands, and connecting at various unknown junctions "with roads that have in years gone by crumbled aw'ay into a streak of rust and a forfeited charter.— Burdette. A restaurant attendant thinks a fat man ought to tip the waiter in proportion as he tips the scales.— Texas Sift-

“Didn’t Know It Was Loaded.”

The young man fell dead! A Inend had pointed a revolver at him. “He didn’tknow it wae loaded!” We otten hear it stated that a man is not responsible for what he does hot know. The law presupposes knowledge, and therefore convicts the man who excuses crime by ignorance! “If I had only known” has often been an unfortunate man’s apology for some evil unknowingly wrought, but in a matter of general interest—as, for instance, that laudanum is a poison, that naphtha is a deadly explosive, that the blood is heavily charged with a winter’s accumulations of the waste of the system—it is one’s duty to know the fact and tuo consequences thereof. Our good old grandmothers knew, for instance, that the opening of spring was the most perilous period of the year. • Why? Because then the blood stream is sluggish and chilled by the cold weather, and if not thinned a good deal and made to flow quickly and healthfully through the arteries and veins, it is impossible to have good vigor the rest of the year. Hence, without exception, what is known as Warner’s Log Cabin Sarsaparilla, wm plentifully made and religiously given to every member of the family regularly through March, April, May and June. It is a matter of record that this prudential, preventive and restorative custom saved many a fit of sickness, prolonged life and happiness to a vigorous old age, and did away with heavy medical expenditures. lbs. Maggie Kerchwal, Lexington, Ky., used Warner’s Log Cabia Sarsaparilla “for nervous sick headache, of which 1 had been a sufferer for years. It has been a great benefit tome.” Captain Hugh Harkins, 1114 South Fifteenth street, Philadelphia, Pa., says “it purified my blood and removed the blotches from my skin. ” Mrs. Aarea Smith, Topton, Berks County, Pa., says she “was entirely cured of a skin disease of the worst kind,” by Log Cabin Sarsaparilla. Bad skin indicates a very bad condition of the blood. <3 If you would live and be well, go to your druggist to-day and get Warner’s Log Cabin Sarsaparilla, and take no other there’s nothing like it or as good—and completely renovate your impaired system with this simSle, old-fashioned preparation of roots and erbs. “ Warner, who makes the famous Safe Cure, puts it up, and that is a guarantee of excellence all over the known world. Take it yourself and give it to the other members of the family, including the children. You will be astonished at its health-giving and lifeprolonging powers. We say this editorially with perfect confidence, because we have heard good things of it everywhere, and its name is a guarantee that it is first class in every particular.

A New Edition of “Don’t.”

Don’t keep the sun out of the rooms in which you live and sleep. Sunlight is absolutely necessary to a right condition of the atmosphere that we breathe, and for our bodily well-being. Don’t sleep in the same flannels that you wear during the day. Don’t wear thin socks or light-soled shoes in cold or wet weather. Don’t catch cold. Catching cold is much more preventfable than is generally supposed. A person in good physical condition is not liable to colds, and will not fall victim to them unless he is grossly careless. Keep the feet warm and dry, the head cool, the bowels and chest well protected; avoid exposure with an empty stomach; take care not to cool off too rapidly when heated; keep out of draughts; wear flannels; and with the exercise of a little common sense in various emergencies, colds will be rare. If colds were a penal offense, we would soon find a way to prevent them. Don’t forget personal cleanliness, but use the bath with moderation, and in accordance with your general health. The daily cold bath is right enough with the rugged, but it is a great tax on the vitality of persons not in the best of health, and should be abandoned if the results are not found to be favorable, and tepid water used instead. In these things each man should judge for himself; that which is excellent for one is often hurtful for another.

Don’t have too much confidence in the curative nature of drugs. Remember that Dr. Good Habits, Dr. Diet, and Dr. Exercise are the best doctors in the world. Youth’s Companion.

The Whole Vital Machinery

Depends for the fuel, which is the origin of its propulsory force, upon the stomach. In that hidden alembic the food undergoes the chemical changes which transmute it into blood, from which the system draws the material that reimburses it for its daily losses of tissue. These, of course, are greatly augmented in disease. It the stomach’, therefore, is weakened or ditordered, the system is deprived of sustenance. Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters can be relied upon to facilitate ana renew digestion when that function has been interrupted by weakness of the stomach. Biliousness, 03 a diversion of the bile from its proper channel, which causes constipation, is also remedied by it. Heartburn, wind on the stomach, sick headache, fur upon the tongue, and other symptoms of stomach and liver disorder, it speedily removes. Malarial complaints of every sort, kidney and bladder troubles, constipation, rheumatism, and neuralgia yield when it 19 used regularly and persistently. A good cow fed only on pasture will always pay double the cost of four or five pounds of bran daily, in milk or butter, says Mirror and Farmer. This is more especially true of winter feeding, when straw may be mixed with hay, and the difference in value of straw spent in bran will make the feed worth more for product than if all hay were fed. Feeding for Growth.—lt has been satisfactorily demonstrated that clean feed-ing-places, plenty of pure water, end close yards, with a liberal supply, is the better plan for fattening young chicks, but a good run on grass with a feeding of grain twice a day promotes growth as well as fat.

“Consumption Can Be Cured.”

Dr. J. S. Combs, Owensville, Ohio, says: “I have given Scott’s Emulsion of Cod Liver Oil with Hypophosphites to four patients with better results than seemed possible with any remedy. All were hereditary cases of Lung disease, and advanced to that stage when Coughs, pain in the chest, frequent breathing, frequent pulse, fever and Emaciation. All these cases have increased in weight from 16 to 28 lbs., and are rot now needing any medicine. ” A comely figure in a woman has its charms. But it is the incomely figure that influences the wife-hunter.

Half Rates South.

April 9th and 26th the Chicago and Eastern Illinois Bailroad (Evansville Route) will sell round-trip excursion tickets to all points South at one fare, tickets good going on date of sale, with privilege of stopping over ten days at points south of the Ohio River. Returning, tickets will be good thirty days from date of issue. For further information address F. E. Scott, City Passenger and ticket Agent, 64 Clark street, Chicago, or William Hill, General Passenger and Ticket Agent, 501 First National Bank, Chicago.