Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 28, Number 7, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 February 1879 — Page 7

THE INDIANA STATE SENTINEL. WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 12, 1879.

THESE HEARTS OF OURS,

BY 'WIT .T.I AM D. PpLLOCK. These hearts of ours are sad concerns. Made up of many troubles; Yet, after all, one-half our woes Are only Fancy's babbles Are only little crinks that form. As knitting yarn untwisted That soon will yield and straighten out . When patience Is enlisted. We are too qnlck to take offense. Too proud to be forgiving. And prone to think the hardest task Is j ustice to the living. For do we not the dead foTglve, When tears with smiles are blended? And hearts at last forgive the wronged The silent ones offended? Each quick retort or idle word, In angry moments spoken, A memory leaves that grieves at last Some tender heart, half broken. And when, too late to make amends, Home one has left us, saddened. We then may think by kindly words True hearts we may have gladdened. God sends the sun to cheer our lives, And night consoles the weary; And though we look on both, unmoved, Their ways are never dreary. So should our hearts be kind, and love Contiol our simplest actions, And "to forgive" our motive be In every day's transactions. For life is full of Utile things. The soul wilh tailnefs filling; Yetsmniuer comes 'mid winter scenes, If but the heart be willing. So stretch the hand of Love to all ; 'there's pleasure in forgetting Each iitUe wrong our pride repels Our hearts at last regretting. TRAVELERS ON TWO ROADS. The train for Pittsburg was a little late that afternoon. In the drawing room car rows of tired people speculated on the chances of getting in before dark, or gaped monotonously behind newspapere. Indeed, these newspapers were so numerous, so uncompromising, so religiously spread open to every last rustling fold, so much more conspicuous than the insignificant heads behind them, that it might be supposed that everybody going to Pittsburg had a constitutional objection to being looked at. There was one seat in the farther end of the car that was unprotected by any such screes, and its occupant a lady of rather uncertain age belonged neither to the speculators nor the gapers. She was lying back in her chair, her eyes wide open, In spite of many vigorous efforts to shut them. The face might ba a young fac9, but seen in that light, and with the dust of travel upon it, it appeared old. There were dark rings tinder her eyes, a weary, tremulous motion of the lids. Her mouth was the only beautiful feature of her face. It was very sensitive, and curved like a bow. A letter lay in her lap, addressed to Miss Margaret Bowe. She held it opec in her fingers, and now and then read parts of it with an air as if its contents were not sufficiently amusing to make it worth reading all at once. At last she sheathed it in its envelope, and agiin leaned back in her chair with a an expression of semi-desperation. - "It's no use," she soliloquized; "my eyes wont' stay shut, unless I tie my handkerchief over them. Suppose I should growl a little, by way of change? There is such a noise that it won't be heard. Nothing would, short of the last trump. And it is such a relief to hear one's own voice." Thereupon issued a series of singular sounds not exactly groans, not exactly grunts, but having: a hybrid character between the two. They were very subdued, indeed, caught and drowned by the noise cf the train almost as soon as they were out of her mouth. Miss Itowe appeared to find them a relief, to judge by her comical smile. They were very regular also, and, bating a little touch cf exasperation, not at all calculated to alarm a timid person. She varied the performance once by humming a tune to herself, but was not so satisfactory. "Too resigned, altogether, sne murmured knitting her forehead and relapsing into the growling state again. Suddenly something touched her from behind. The concert ceased abruptly. She jumped a little, and then settled back into her chair as if it was nothing in the world that concerned her. "I was sure that seat was empty." she thought with much vexation. "It was when I got in. Somebody must have taken it after the train started, and I did not hear him." Somebody evidently had done so, and not only that, but was evidently of a very charitable, not to say persistent, disposition. The touch came again on her shoulder; simultaneously the wheeling round of a chair and the appearance at her aide of a neighbor from the rear. "I beg pardon, madam; but I am afraid yon are ill." "Not at all," replied madam, with audacious disregard of truth, glancing up to see what manner of man it was that spoke. A brown face, brown eyes, brown hair everything brown about him, seemingly, except his coat; and everything hair, coat and all clpeely cut, closely guarded, as if their owner had no mind that they should reveal anything about him; a man who seemed to express in a subtle way that it pleased him to puzzle other people. Margaret was instantly interested, and grew ten times as indifferent as before. "Not at all," she repeated, calmly surveying the intruder. "Then the the groans I heard were doubtless a remarkable spiritual manifestation?" A slight twitching round the corners of her mouth. "Oh, I had a headache, I believe. It can't be helped." "I beg your pardon again, bat It can be helped. ' She opened her eyes at this confident remark, but would nol ment. ask him what he "I am Dr. Ritchie " he went on "Dr. Ritchie, of Pittsburg. It is not likely you ever heard of me before. But you can identify me easily when you get to Pittsburg, if you care to take the trouble. Meanwhile I carry my weapons with me, and I have some medicine here that will cure vour headache." "I have heard of Dr. Ritchie " answered Margaret, adding perversely, "I don't know whether I ever heard of you. sir. or not. "As much a' to ray that yon do not know whe- her I am Dr. Kttchie or not." "You may be you may not. How can I tnr "I don't know how, I am sure. It does not matter, either." Mies Kowe thought it did matter as she watched him fumbling among the bottles in the old black valise. At last he louna a bottle suited to his mind, extracted from another corner a small drinkmg-glass. and deliberately porceeded to pour out the linnid. "Does the man really suppose I am going to drink it?" thought Margaret. As if he was a clairvoyant, Dr. Ritchie looked up and remarked coolly, "Now you are going to drink this, butnrst, II you wish, I will call the attention of some of your fel low passengers, to the circumstances, so that . you nay ba under their protection the rest of the way." "No!" exclaimed Margaret, raising herself. He really looked for the moment as if

he was going to do'what he said. As soon as she spoke be let the mask fall again, and a gleam of satisfied fun looked out of his eyes. "What made you ray that? You did not mean it!" said Miss Rowe, as petulantly as if be had been a ten years' acquaintance instead of ten minutes. - . "And besides that is an opiate, is it not? opiates will not stop my headaches. I have tried them; in fact, I have tried everything." ''This is not an opiate, and it will cure your headache that is, if you will give it a fair chance. Your mind must be diverted from the pain to other things." "That is easier said than done. What is going to divert my mind?" "I am going to talk to you." "Indeed!" The "indeed" was so exprssive that first Dr. Ritchie langhed and then Miss Rowe laughed too. He sat for a few minutes idly twirling the glass in his fingers. Every now and then the sun fell upon It; then a flash of light would dart into some remote part of the car. and the nervous 'passenger upon whom It chanced to fall would start like one of the little hammers of a piano when a key is struck. "I see you are not sure I am what I pretend to be." "No." "But you do not find that headache very endurable either?" "No." "And so you are going to taka this medicine?" . "I suppose so." He put the glass into her hand, and she drank its contents with a half defiant, half resigned air. Then a few minutes' silence, during which she pointed several severe moral reflections against herself, and waited to see what would happen next. What happened next was another piece of clairvoyance on the part of Dr. Ritchie. "I see you think the transformation a long time coming. We have reverted to the 'Thousand and One Nights.' and that was doubtless a bewitched draught." "I don't see that it bas any effect at all," answered Margaret obdurately. "Ob, that is because your mind has not yet been diverted. Just mention some cheerful subject, and I will enlarge upon it." promptly. "Prayer meetings," suggested his patient The doctor's eyes twinkled. "Very good. A howling prayer meeting in Virginia, for instance. Have you ever attended one? ' "No; I never was in Virginia." "They may be held wherever there are any colored people of the Methodist persuasion, for aught I know; but the one I saw was near Harper's Ferry." "I went into a Methodist church once with my brother when we were both little children," said Margaret, speaking with some animation. "We had no idea what they were going to do, and when the 'Aniens' began to go up all around us we were frightened almost out of our wits. It was a crazy old building, full of echoes, and the responses were so confused they sounded like groans. We thought half the congregation were taken with the cholera." Dr. Ritchie laughed. "That was mild compared with the proceedings of the uneducated colored people. At the meeting I attended half a dozen benches at least were broken in the course of an hoar. I should be sorry to speak disrespectfully of devotional exercises, but really it don't seem to me that jumping np and down as high and fast as one's muscles will permit can be classed under that head." "I should think not," said Miss Rowe,

rather scaidalizsd. "But that is what they did. And every bop came to an end with 'Praise the Lord!' There was one young fellow standing close by the pulpit who jumped so high that he actually came down inside of it! But the climaxcame when the minister stood up to address them. 'Bredren,' screamed he, 'I can see de Lord dis minute! I can see Him step to de edge ob de cloud, tip one ear up an'de odder ear down to listen to de cries ob his children!" Such a look as Margaret gave, and such incredulous eyes as looked up to him! "I do assure you that I have not exagertaed a word. I saw and heard all that to say nothing of much more like it with my own eyes and ears. And these people had not ihe least idea that they were guilty of any irreverence. They were simply praising the Lord, as they thought, in the manner most acceptable to Him." "Acceptable!" ejaculated Margaret. "Why don't somebody go and teach them better?" "Are you plaDnlng to go yourself? Better think twice." It was agiin the same careless, jesting tone that hid made her -doubt every word he had said at first. She lelt bewildered. Surely there had been a strain of earnestness in it a minute before. Bat perhaps that was only assumed to entrap ner into the same thing. He should not succeed again, even though he had succeeded in curing her headache. On the whole, she wished the headache would come back ; to prove him in the wrong. xou must make a gwo aeai ot allow ance, cooly continued the enigma wno had installed himself as her physician "allowance, I mean, for their temperament, their Oriental fervor of imagination. It is not like ours." 'Very fortunate that it is not, Dr. Ritchie," answered Margaret with resolute indifference. She was not sure but she was beginning to feel sleepy. Suddenly a thought struck her that roused her for a moment, and made her feel doubly provoked with herself. As if that were not enough, another piece of clairvoyance from the enigma. I fully understand that you do not be lieve yet that I have any right to my own name, and that you addressed me by it In voluntarily. Let me Deg you not to be annoyed by that, but to go to sleep as soon as possible. You will be the better for it when you reach Pittsburg." "Very well." she said, not knowing what else to say. Possibly he would not be able to read her thoughts when she was asleep. and had none. It was not strictly true. either, that she disbelieved his statements. He might be Dr. Ritchie very probably was, her comon sense told her. Almost any other man in the car she would, have be' lleved if ha had made the same statement. But in the case of the problematic doctor. the very air around him seemed to be unreal There was a steady, keen light in hia eyes that might be mockery or it might be oaiy humor. She doubted whether he meant anything he said, whether he was not continually playing with his neighbors, and experimenting upon them even in his lightest words. There are people who get the credit of such mental chemistry whether justly or unjustly, vr. interne n tnat was his name might deserve It, or it might have been in a manner forced upon him by the pressure of opinion. If a man makes a good joke once or twice, he is supposed to do nothing but joke lorevermore. it be plays a part a few times, he is set down as an actor to the end of his days. Perhaps it might be a little bard sometimes, but who could tell in any particular case whether they were not wasting their pity ? These ideas, or rather these impressions, passed through Margaret's mind vaguely as she lay back in her chair. What a comfort it was to be comfortable, she thou tilt with mora drowsiness than brilliancy. Presently the brown face of ber neighbor opposite began to waver before her, the noise of the train grew fainter, and the sleep she coveted fairly settled down upon her for the remainder of the journey. She wa awakened by the cars stopping with a sudden bounce. "Have we run over anybody?" she wondered dreamily. No; they were in Pittsburg, and it was only their usual jerky method of putting down the brakes. The brown hand of her eccentric companion was on her traveling-bag. ''Let me carry it fo? you, if yon please," he said, marching out ahead of her without waiting for an answer. As there was nothing else to do, aha followed him meekly, cogitating whether or no

he would make off with her property. No, he apparently had no thievish propensity. He restored it to her on the platform, and looked down upon her with the same careless smile on his lips. "Probably you do not care to tell me your name, and give me the pleasure of prescribing for you again?" .'Probably I don't," thought Margaret obstinately. Yet she knew she should like him for aa acquaintance; she always liked odd people; but did he think she was going to tell him her name in that unceremonious, school girl fashion? Apparently he did not. "Ah! I see you don't," he added, as if it were a part of the same sentence. "And I forgot, you don't know what my name is, either. Allow me, then, to bid you good evening, and express my pleasure at our short railroad acquaintance. He bowed politsly and walked off, not without another amused glance at what? At the letter she still held in her hand! "Why, it has been in my lap all the way!" she thought. "Unless he is blind, he could not help reading the address over a dozen times. Then he asked my name just to see what I would say. I don.t believe he has said a word this afternoon with any other motive; I don't believe he has ever said a word in bis life to anybody whatever with any other motive." Rather a harsh judgment, yet it was one that had followed her singular acquaintance wherever he went. Did he think of it as he walked to his lonely home that evening? Margaret too hurried home, alternating between two moods. "We are both of us middle aged people, and 1 was foolish to be so vexed. He would have amused papa. No doubt he Is Dr. Ritchie, as he esys." That was the relenting mood. Then came the skeptical one. "I have always preached to Nellie that she was not to talk to people on the cars, no matter how nice they looked. To be sure I am a great deal older than she is, but anything for consistency. Besides, I don't believe he is Dr. Ritchie." Finally, at a last conclusion: "Mrs. Wallace is a friend of the genuine Dr. Ritchie; I will get her to give me a minute description of Dr. Ritchie's countenance, dress and manners. That will settle the question whether I have been cheated or not." Then the door of her own home opened to receive her, and the boisterous welcome of her younger sister and the more quiet one of her father speedily pat all strangers, pleasant or otherwise, out of her head. The next morning she walked over to see her friend, cogitating how she could best get the required information without letting her know why it was wanted. Mrs. Wallace met her at the door. The rooms behind her were brilliantly lighted. "My dear, the very one I most wanted to see! You must help me to entertain some of these people. A dozen or more dropped in unexpectedly, you know a kind of surprise party. I was just going to send over for you." "A surprise party without any surprise parly?" queried Margaret laughingly. "No; really, I did not know there would be a single caller to night. Why don't you come in?" "But dear me, I am not dressed for a party." "What difference does that make?" Well, it did not seem to make much, Miss Rowe thought, as she was meekly led in like a lamb to the slaughter, after being divested of her outer wraps. "Margaret, let me present Dr. Ritchie. Doctor Mies Rowe. one of my best friends.

as you know; you have often heard me speak of her." Giving tbera barely time to acknowledge the introduction, she hurried Margaret off to present half a dozen more dear friends. Indeed, evervbody in the room appeared to be Mrs. Wallace's very dear friend. She was a sunny-hearted creature, who saw no faults in anybody, and consequently drew everybody to her as honey draws bees. Margaret, who was full of antipathies, regarded this evenness of sympathy as one of the wonders of the world.. The two bad been school girls together; in spite of great unllkeness. this bond had held them tarouga tne marriage of the one and the increasing maturity of the other. Margaret was not in the least astonished at Dr. Ritchie's appearance: she had felt sure he would find some means of making her acknowledge herself m It taken. Still, when somewhat later in the evening be con gratulated her with the gravest of faces upon their "accidental" meeting, sne aid wax Indinant. He looked down into herskptical eyes. "I tee vou didn't believe it was accidental at all. Y'et I told you the truth about my name." No answer at alL "Miss Rowe, suppose we should both be unconventional enough to say what we think?" "Well then," said Margaret, snatching recklessly at this license, "1 think you tell the truth in form, but always with another kind of truth behind it that would change its effects if known. I think you p!ay with facts as a boy plays with marbles." "And as to this pleanant encounter tonight you think " "I think. Dr. Ritchie, that if you tried to make a child think the world was made of green cheese, and the child would not believe you, you would never cease trying until you succeeded." "After which I would lose all interest in the hypothetical child?" "After which you would I028 all interest, of course." "My mission in life is then, in fact, a crusade against skepticsm or against common sense, you would say? Well, modern opinion pronounces them one and the same. Miss Rowe, your judgement against me has the merit of coinciding with everybody else's." Was there a ring of pain in his voice? She could not detect any; it only sounded smooth, calm, semi satirical. Yet something surely made her feel like apologizing for her words "I don't like to coincide with everybody else." she said decidely. . "You would rather stand alone?" "No; I would rather be with the minority it is nearest truth." "Granted; but each minority with truth in its hands gradually draws to itself a majority." men tne ever-aavancing train passes over into the hands of the new minority which is instantly formed." .. . That is rather a see saw operation," said Dr. Ritchie, laughing. "In the case we have been speaking of, the majority would be too small to please even you. In fact it would consist of only one person." She looked ud inardringlv. "The only person who ever thought dif ferently of me from yourself, was my mother." The tone, though grave, was matter-of-fact enough, but it touched her greatly. His quick eye instantly detected her penitence, aod he just as quickly took advantage of it. "Miss Rowe, Mrs. Wallace tells me that your father likes to see company, and needs to be amused. Will you and he kindly admit me to the standing ot a neighbor? 1 live near you. and being quite alone in my own house, should consider it a great favor to be admitted to yours." - "We shall both of us be very glad to see you," replied ilararet cordially. The. minute she had spoken, something indescribable crossing her face a light or a shadow, at any rate the expression of a man who has got his own way revived all her first distrust ot him with double force. Perhaps he had alluded to his mother only to touch her feelings, and was still bent on forcing her to believe in him whether she would or not. or, as she had put it. to con' vinoe the child that the moon was made of green cheese. There was nothing to be done now: she did not exactly dislike htm, but she made up ber mind that be ahould never have ber

confidence. And in that same minute he had decided that he would have it . Nevertheless she was unjust; his feeling had been genuine. The penalty of his nature, always following him, was that he should make such use of real things as to peruade everybody else that they were unreal. One can get used to almost anything. It seemed to her at first that it would be intolerable to bave Dr. Ritchie a guest in their house, a friend of the family, if he really was going to persist in treating them all as so

many subjects for dissection. foe was mistaken. The uneasiness soon wore off, although there was no better guaranty of his sincerity at the last than at the nrst i rom an occasional visitor he slipped into a regular one. By and by he was going in and out of tbe houss like a tame cat, especially evenings, when bis professional duties were oyer. Yet she never believed that he had any genuine, warmhearted interest in them; it was only a device to make her believe it and sometimes she smiled to think how impossible that was. He amused and interested her old father; and that was a great thing in his favor. Yes, and she was perfectly willing to acknowledge that he amniused and interested her, too. About once a month he woutd weave an argumentative net to entrap her into saying ium sue irusiea mm. one always broke through it with an emphatic negative. Yet at such times she would think, with much quiet amusement, how easily sheconldend this acquaintance, if only she could bring herself to equivocate a little! Give Drl Ritchie his triumph, and ste felt sure she should soon see the last of him. lie was neglecting his profession a good deal, too, in order to spend so much time at their house. What a pity that was! So two years went by, and then one day the doctor, in a very matter of fact way, asked Hiss Rowe to marry liim. This did not surprise her, either; she ba J rather expected him to use this as a last expedient. She said "No" very promptly indeed, and wondered what he would do next. But he did not relinquish this point as easily as she expected. 'Why do you give me such an answer?" he demanded, like an injured man. "You have not said you do not care for me." "No need to say it when I tell yoa that I do not believe in you. Ycu are a perpetual actor, and the world is your stage." "Then yon do not believe that I love yon?" "No, I do not believe you. You may think you do." "What will make you believe in me? I have tried my own way; now tell me yours, and I will try that" His face an i voice were both so earnest that they startled her, till she remembered what an actor he was. "Weil, I hardly know," she replied, deliberately. "If you were once so thoroughly In earnest as to forget yourself, it would be something. If I knew of some generous, self-sacrificirg thing you bad done, without other people's knowledge, I suppose I should be more ready to trust you. And if I could see you in some thoroughly ridiculous position, disconcerted and helpless like common people, with all your defenses down, I might be still more ready to trust you." ''Not very easy conditions to comtly with." "I never expected you to comply with them." So the subject dropped. The doctor still came and went but seemed to have aban doned bis fruitless project There were no more word-traps set to catch her. Then, as was natural, she began to feel a little more confidence in him. The mere fact that he still remained their friend after finding that he could not have hia own way had some weight About this time there was a change in their servants, one of them leaving to be married, and a new girl coming to take her place. The girl, whose name was Molly, bad not been In the house three days before some one chanced to mention Dr. Ritchie s name before her. It was like the pulling of a shower hath. Molly dropped her duster, and nearly dropped herself in her astonishment Did they know the good doctor, then, who had been her benefactor when she had no other friend in the world? who had found her when her mother was almost dead of a fever, and the children were starving, and her father could get no work? Did they know bow he had cured her mother and fed her children? how he had never forgotten them, until even the baby, which was so starved and thin, was now as plump and and pretty a baby as there was in the whole city f And so on. an hour or more: indeed. Molly would never have stopped as long as she eoaid get anybody to listen to ber. There was no doubting her sincerity. She was a pretty-faced, shy little Irish girl, who was speaking out 01 her very heart. Margaret thought with a curious thrill that here was the first of the conditions she had named fulfilled. Would the other one be too? Yes, and with marvelous rapidity. Happening to look out of the window one laborers holiday, a contused, angry sound arose from the upper end of the street It grew louder, grew nearer, resolved itself into a semi-mob of excited malcontents rushing through the streets, vociferating curves against thtir employers. And there, in the very heart of tbe rabble, his hat miss ing, his immaculate collar rumpled, his face all red with exertion there, cf all men in tbe world, was Dr. Ritchie. He certainly looked d if concerted and embarrassed enough to satisfy any one. Margaret almost jumped in ber astonish ment Here was condition number two met She was very uneasy at first for his person al satety. lie seemed to be trying to restrain the mob from further mischief, and in consequence was receiving some rather rough usage at their hands. But a messen ger dispatched later in the day reported that the doctor naa reached his own home with' out serious injury, though much bruised and battered. He did not come to see them that night. nor tbe next When at last he was well enough to make his appearance there were a few hours In which Margaret s thankfulness for his safety lulled to rest tbe old uneasy suspicion. Before those hours were parsed be asked her again to ba his wife, and she consented Three months afterwards they were married in a very quiet way, and, dispensing with any wedding tour, began housekeeping in the same cosy estaDiisnraent where the doc tor had so long presided alone. Margaret never asked herself now it she believed in her husband. She knew that she loved him, and kept the other question out of sight aai very oiten he would ask her of bis own accord, "Margaret, you trust me, nowr- Ana then, although she answered "Yes" dutifully, . her lips trembled, and a troubled look came into her eyes. Had . he succeeded in making tbe child believe tbat the moon was made of green cheese? If so, be still loved it as dearly as ever. A year of married life made 00 difference. Yet sometimes the old curious, half-mocking smile would come back to his lips, tbe old unreal ring 01 bis voice. It was in these moods tbat he always asked her if she trusted him, never if she loved him. There was no need of that "I wish yoa would not ask me the same question so mauy times." she said once, fcl most peiulently. "Should I have married you if I had not believed in you ? As far as I know, you bave never deceived me. 1 bave asked your pardon half a dozen times for ever suspecting you of it Are you such an inveterate Indian that you cannot forgive and forgetr " "So you have," be said, laughing. "No, have never deceived you. But supposing bad done just what yoa onoe told me I did used one truth and left another truth in tbe background, not harmfully or mallei onsly, but because it was not suited to my purposes?" She was looking at blm very earnestly

How earnestly he did not perceive; bis heedless mood was upon him. "You remember the two conditions you once made?" "Yes." "I really helped those people fn good faith long before I knew you; I really tried rey best to restrain that mob; butl brought both cases purposely to your knowledge." Blind, even to the last moment that he did not see the change in bis wife's face. "It was for love of you, sweet one," be went on, gaily. "See, I have done what I said I would. I have had my own way, and yet my interest has not ceased. You told me once that it would, you know. Will you 1 give me absolution, little wife? Why, Margaret!" He might well exclaim, for ber face was white, and her eyes looked at him aa if in all the world ot phantoms there was none so unreal as himself. 'Why, Margaret, there was no sin in it Both your conditions were genuinely, honestly fulfilled." "How can I know that?" she answered, in ' a low, dull tone. "How can I ever know what is true or untrue about you to the end f the world?" He took her in his arms, frighten d at her pain. . She made no resistance. He stroked her face and hair as if she had been a little child, and she suomittcd to it all, even smiled tenderly when he told her how sorry

ne was 10 nave troubled ner. such happiness as he could take in her love she eladlv gave him; there was something of more value than that bad gone out of his reach lorever. It was days and weeks before he would aenowledso this. Again and again he asked tbe same old question, "Don't yoa trust me yet?" asked it with hope at first, and then more falter! ngly. tiU at last the words died on his lips before the drooping, sad face that was bis only answer. 1 et she accused him of nothing: she knew herself to ba a born skeotic, even as be was born actor. Most unfortunately the two had come together. He was always using his own thoughts, impressions, feelings, as delicate instruments to pry into other peo ple a mental anatomy, fiaturally those who discovered this lost all confidence in the genuineness of such feelings. He was a man misjudged, but himself provoked all the misjudgnieut The little household grew graver, grew sadder; the two heads of it carried a burdensome pain; but children grew up happily, nevertheless. When their little girl was born, the doctor, holding her in his arms, put the old question in a humbler form, loutrustmea little, don t your' And tbe patient hps answered "A little." Three years after another daughter came, and again he asked the same question. I he re came the same answer, "A little. He never questioned her again. After that silence fell between them upon the one sore spot of their lives. But when, many vears later than the other children, a boy was born to them, the doctor s eye flashed with a new, hopeful light, teeing perhaps a future triumph when the life of the child sbnnld make plainer the life of the father. That cay of triumpn was very near at hand. The boy was not two years old when a dangerous fever ravaged the neighborhood. Dr. Ritchie fought it as one bghts hre, and was struck down by it himself at last When he knew he had but an hour to live. he looked at the kneeling fizure beside him. "Little wife, people who are dying get credit for their words. It is a Jong time since mine have had any meaning for you. Yet I have loved you fully and deeply; I have tried to do what I could for the world. Tell me that yoa believe that even if yoa can not believe me." Tbe shadow of the solemn witness to whose name he appealed was on his face. Looking still at that shadow she whispered, I do believe it. and I believe vou." But in that presence, and with the last breath still fluttering on his lips, the old mirthful mockery of the man asserted itself, ineradicable to the last "Marsaret how do vou know but I am only thamniing death?" he murmured. And lor one sickening moment sne oion 1 know it Then the shadows closed over him; the witness Death was there in silent confirmation of what had been spoken. Two other witnesses were there also, une, the still face from which all that was baf fling, discordant, untrue, had passad away like a dream, leaving the story of a true heart to be read upon it The other, tbe face of a two-year-old boy, who clung to Margaret s knee and looked up at ber with bis fathers eyes. Through childhood, boyhood, manhood. those eyes looked into hers. In their un questionable childish sincerity making them plain with an almost pathetic Dngntnees, since he so inherited his father's nature that the time might come when he also could say, looking back to childhood, "No one but my mother ever knew me." A FEASFl'I, WABSISG. An Abandoned Woman's Dying- Appeal. I Cincinnati Star, January IX. Louisville, January 17, 1879. This morning about 3 o'clock the inmates of Hannah Ualey's bagnio, on Lafayette street, were aroused tram their slumbers by a wild cry from Maua iiay, a iaay Doaraer. A dozen persons of both sexes rushed to her apartment, and,- to their astonishment and horror, discovered tne woman in tne isat atroniea of death. She turned to her female companions, and in a feeble voice said: "I am dying; dying the happiest ueam that a sinner can die. Before I leave you take this as my parting gif C Those of you who have parents, go to them. If you have homes, no matter how humble, leave this lite of sin." Here she sank back upon her pillow exhausted. "she is gone, " soooea one 01 tne women. Oh ! what a warnipg!" "Not yet," came a faint voice from the bed. "Not yet Not until I bave said beware of opium; it's tbe devil's nectar. Beware of morphine, the prime minister of death. It is the friend of sorrow and the foe to pleasure. Beware of it." Her voice failed at this juncture ana sne saua quieuy into a peaceful slumber, from which she never awoke. The scene at the bedside of the fallen woman would have made a study for an artist, an inspiration for a poet. The face of the corpse was calm, but not more pallid than those which bowed over all that was once mortal of their departed sister. The dim light from a coal oil lamp cast the erotesaue and sombre shadows of . . 1 . . , . , . . the picture on tne mans, wan, auu a gaosuy atmosphere pervaded the room. Such a deathbed scene bas seldom been recorded. Women, double dyed in sin. gave way to their better nature and pledged their souls to a life of rectitude thereafter. Maud May was a confirmed morphine eater, and met her death by an overdose of tbe deadly drug. She was about 22 years of age, and was to the moment of her demise a beautiful and intelligent woman. She was born in Ohio, and according to ber former statement was brought to a life of shame by a young man in Cincinnati. The influence of the poisonous drug led ber to petty crimes, and several times she was arrested for stealing small articles from her associates. Six times she has attempted ber life. A Sine (n Ron. Philadelphia Times. It would be a relief, in the view of the Cincinnati Sun, "if the president could find some place in a foreign country for Dr. Mary Walker." Unfortunately, however, Mrs. Walker can not show that she had any hand in tbe noble and patrlotio work of stealing the presidency for Mr. Hayes. Parents can not be too careful in guarding the health of their babies. Only a good and reliable medicine should b given to them. Dr. Bull's Baby Hyrnp is aaown not to con' tain anything injurious. "

Tbe KLaXCIIAIID BLOOD & NERVE FOOD

la at Pim Oonoeatrated LIQUID prepare directly Creas tm WHHAT KERNED, Wltheat Fc BLOOD, HEBTE AHB II BAILS Reatortac eJemeaes ra a utaral ataaa of vitalisatleau NERVOUS DEBILITY' Which underlie all forms of Chrome Disease Is speedily overcome by the use of this Food. For the vear cast T hm mhhumit scribed The Blaaettard Blood u4 Serve) Food to my patients of all ages, from eighteen months to eighty-three years. In every ease the result has been exactly that etalmed by you. It Is by Car the most valuable and reliable Tome I have ever met wilh. k.DWAJU SUTTOH SMITH, M. !., Irving Place, .New Yerk. EOOB AT TiAST A 8TJBSTIT7TZ for. FOOD is made a onrxritraUon and artificial digestion, and It it aa simple In Its application that The adylee physicians in not reqnlrrd. inouxandsor recoveries from chronic dla. eases are iv ported, where the best medical akiil baa failed. many or the bst Physician throorhont tha country are Discarding; Dran and uslnc me uianehanl Blood u4 Aerie Foad with the most gratifying reunite, permanently relieving all forms of Physical and Mental Debility. The Dyspeptic ud m tiye Patient, sufferers from Malarial Blood IolMoniattT, together with the entire) list of complaint peculiar to the Female aex ncd in the use of tola Food aura and aneedv relief. Nrw York, November 38, 1877. DR.V.W.BLA!lfiHARn! nnrinirthnudvM I have nrefiCrlbed Tnor nrlAtik nmnaMtlnM of Food Cure, and feel happy to say they have me my most sanguine expectations, giving to patient Inn? enfanhlMi h Mvi rwnia. chronic disease, er over drug doming the need w uuLiibftuu mm iirrve loroo. tntor. i;LJ!iMls?CE 8. LOZTER, M. V Dean of Horn. Med. College and Hospital for Women, New York City Hundreds of cases of RiHa-hfa - - - of tbe Kidneys have been reported cared. For ncnraific ana atneantaue pneaiei IK is almost a sneclno. Phvataal ftnri tbfontai rwbllity from the use of A loo hoi, Oplnna aant Tooaeeo or from any nnnamable ctoM, nasi "i uLus jr uiM a umuiu ana jxient remeay. 1 FOB TBfB IHTELLECTUAlf fWOBKEI THE BE.AA CIIARD BLOOD & NERVE FOOD Affords a certain and natural means or rap plying the waste of the brain reuniting from labor that will enable him to do better and more work than ever before, without dacm of mental strain. As a remedy for the Lena of Appetite and Want of Viaror. chvslcal and mental, in children this Food has no rival. $1.00 per Bottle, or 6 for $5.00. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS, Or Bent by Express on receipt of Price, o Airoovro Trvoiootcai. Pkmiwakt, Asdoveb, Mass March 29, 1KB. Your Life Pood la an excellent thing. I have) no hesitation, after a thorough trial of It, In recommend In a; it in cases of chronic dyspepsia and nervous prost ration. &EV.Ia. AUSTIN PHELPS TFIF. BLAKCIIARD FOOD CX'R SYNIEJI now receiving such popular app elation Is clearly set forth In a M page pa phlet which will be sent to any addreba on eelpt of 25 cents. Address Llanchafd Food Cure Co. 27 TJKIOM Mi BARE, NEW YORK. THE WONDERFUL Pain Reliever was Invented a an Improvement upon the or dinary Porous Plaster. It contains all the valuable qualities of the common slow actioc porous plaster, bnt here all compa.-lson ends; for the new combination of powerful vegetable ingredients contained In Benson's Ca rx-1 ne Plaster makes it far more prompt and effective in its action than the ordinary porous plaster or any other external remed including liniments, all liquid compounds, and the so-called electrical appliances. The pain-relieving, strengthening and curative properties of this article are truly extraordinary. LAE3E BACK. For Lameness or weakness of the Back. Spinal affections. Pains in the Bide or Hips, arising from Co. da or overexertion, Strains, or any other canse, tne oesi Known remeay ia Benson's Capclne Porons Plaster. It gives almost immediate relief. strengthens and cures where other plasters will not even, relieve. WOMEN AND CHILDREN. Women suffering: Dalns and weakness obtain great comfoit and rellel by the use of Benson 'a Capclne Porous Plaster. We earnestly recommesa 11 to mowers tor as a remeay lor me ailments of children : In such cases as whooplnccoukIi, croup, colds, and all affections of the lungs, aaauy cases nave oeen reporieu cen tly where children having; tbe most violent attacks of whooping-cough have been relieved. In less than one hour. -For Rheumatism, Sciatica and Lumbago, KI 1ney Disease, Affections of the Heart. Fever and Ague, Btubbora and Neglected Coughs and Colds, Pleurisy, Asthma or Lung Dlfliculties, and all Local Aches and Pains, Inflammatlon and Soreness. BEBSturs CAPCINE POROUS PLASTER Is the best, most convenient, inexpensive and effectual remedy known. We recommend alt. who are skeptical concerning the above statements to cousult reliable physioians la their own locality. Its great merit is known to all well Informed physicians, and they will confirm the assertion that it Is the best external remedy ever devised. Sold by all Druggists. Price, 25 Cents. tiirv foj A beautlfnl work or 100 Pages, One Colored Flower Plate, atid 300 Illustrations, with lescriptlons of the bent Flowers and egetar.lt, and how to arrow them. All lor a Fiva Cbkx Stamp. In English or German. The Flower and Vegetable Garden, 175 wures. Six Colored Plates, and many hundred Engravings. For 60 cents in pnper covers; fcUMia. elegant cloth. In German or EnKllsh. Vlck's Illustrated Monthly Masazlue S pages, A Colored Plate In every numlwrand many One Engravings. Price S1J45 a year; Five copies for to.OO. Vlck's 8eeds are the best, in the world. Bend Fivk CK!t Stamp for a Floral Uino", containing List and Prices, and plenty of information. Address JAMES VICE, Rochester X.Y41