Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 January 1897 — Page 4 Advertisements Column 2 [ADVERTISEMENT]

I OotM •‘The Sunset Slope of Lite." /yv, mins & Co. S • • WHISKEY .i— -i.i - Process’’—hand-made, sour-iiash, /v", ® Kentucky Bourbon, absolutely pure and sold only A * K,EFER DRUQ co * Ip 1,. CMit,otl,r» and bUtributert.

the fading or falling of^^^ tressas are far mpre tc the matron than to the maid whose casket of charms is yst unriflsd by time. Beautiful women will be (lad to be reminded that falling or fading hair is unknown to those who use Ayer’s Hair Vigor.

The subject did not Interest me In the least I opened the parcel and from the enveloping [wiper emerged a steel helmet —but not an ordinary helmet, oh, no—a superb, a monumental morion, with gorget and pointed visor of strange form. The visor was raised and I tried to discover what prevented It from being lowered. “It will not go down—tite hinges have got out of order,” said my uncle, “but it's a superb piece, and when it has been thoroughly cleaned and touched up will look shall be your to-raorrow’s job.” “Very good, uncle,” I murmured, not daring to raise my eyes to his. That night, on returning to my room, lat once went to bed. I was eager to be alone and able to think nt nty ease. Night brings counsel, It is said, and I had great need that the proverb should prove true. But after lying -awake for an hour without receiving any assistance I fell to sleep and till next morning did nothing but dream the oddest dreams. 1 saw Rose ou her way to church In a strange bridal costume, a fourteenth century cap three feet high on her head, but looking prettier than ever. Then suddenly the scene changed to moonlight, In which Innumerable helmets and pieces of old china were dancing a wild farandole, while my uncle, clad In complete armor and with a formidable halberd In his band, conducted the bewildering whirl. The next day—ah I the next day!—l was no nearer. In vain, with clenched teeth, I scoured the Immense helmet brought by my uncle the previous even-ing-scoured It with such fury as almost to break the iron; not an Idea came to me. The helmet shone like a sun. My uncle sat smoking his pipe lin'd watching me, but I could think of nothing—of no way of forcing him to give me his daughter.

At 8 o’clock Rose went into the country, whence she was not to return until dinner time, in the evening. On the threshold she could only make a sign to me with her hand; my uncle had not left us alone for a* single instant. He was not easy in his mind; 1 could see that by his face. No doubt he bad not forgotten our conversation of the previous evening. I went on rubbing at my helmet “You have made It quite bright enough—put it down,” said my uncle. I put it down. The storm was gathering; I could not do better than allow It to blow over. But suddenly, as if overtaken by a strange fancy, my uncle took up the enormous morion and turned and examined it on all sides. “A handsome piece of armor, there Is no doubt about it; but it mußt have weighed pretty heavily ou its wearer’s shoulders,” he muttered; and, urged by I know not what demon, he clapped it on his head and latched the gorget piece about his neck. Struck almost speechless, 1 watched ! what he was doing—thinking only how ' ugly he looked. Suddenly there was a sharp sound—as if a spring had snapped—and—crack 1 —down fell the visor; and there was my uncle, with his head in an iron cage, gesticulating and swearing like a pagan. I could contain myself no longer, and j burst into a roar of laughter; for my ! uncle, stumpy, fat and rubicund, presented an Irresistibly comic appearance. Threateningly he came toward me. “The hinges!—the hinges, fooll” he yelled. I could not see his face, but I felt that It was red to bursting. “When you have done laughing, Idiot!” he cried. But the helmet swayed so oddly on his shoulders, his voice came from out it in such strange tones, that the more he gesticulated, the more he yelled and threatened me, the louder I laughed. At that moment the clock of the Hotel de Vllle striking 5 o’clock was beard. "The municipal council!” murmured my uncle, In a stifled voice. “Quick, help me off with this beast of a machine! We’ll settle our business afterward!” But, suddenly likewise, an idea—a wild, extraordinary Idea—came into my head; but then, whoever Is madder than a lover? Besides, I had no choice of means. “No!” I replied. My uncle fell back two paces In terror—and again the enormous helmet wabbled on his shoulders. I “No,” I repeated firmly; “I’ll not helj you out unless you give me the hand of my cousin Rosel” From' the depths of pM strangely