Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 31, Number 34, Indianapolis, Marion County, 23 September 1885 — Page 3

THE INDIANA. STATE SENTINEL, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1885.

PROPHECY.

BY KATE VASNAH. I lie dreaming of you while I heap Tee marguerites abont roe everywhere: I picture them ayruinst your breast and hair; I feci a sudden passion iu me leap. Hipn as the waves far out there on the deep Thin very nicht, myself, to place some there! Men rail me brave, but I would sooner dare I Tille I chanced r.pon yon ia deep sleep) j I narmed, into a lion's lair to rush. Yon are tili cold and proud : 1 long to crush And hurt, then kivs, each vein of that great heart. Yon are Mill proud and cold, but ere we part You'll love me. you who never loved before. As madly 8 that great wave clasps the shore. IN THE DARK. "It is the strangest, most unaccountable thin? I ever knew! I don't think I am superstitious, but I can't help fancying that' Ethel left the sentence unfinished, wrinkling her brows in a thoughtful frown as she gazed into the depths of her empty tea-cup. "What has happened?" I inquired, glancinp up from the money article of the Times at my daughter's pretty, puzzled face. "Nothing uncanny, I hope! You haven't discovered that a 'ghogt is included among the fixtures of our new house?" The new house, The Cedars, was a pretty ddfashioned riverside villa between Richmond and Kew, which I had taken furn. ished. as a summer residence, and to w hich we hail only just moved. Let me state, in parenthesis, by way of introducing myself to the reader, that I, John Dysart, am a widower with one child: the blue-eyed, fair-haired young lady who sat er poite to me at the breakfast table that bright June morning; and that I have been for many years the manager of on old established Life Insurance Company in the city. "What is the mystery?" I repeated as Ethel did not reply. Hie came out of her brown study, and looked at me impressively. "It really is a mystery, papa, and the more I think of it the more puzzled I am." "I am in the dark at present as to what it' may be," 1 reminded her. "Something that happened last night. You know that adjoining my bedroom there is a large, dark closet, which can be used as a box or store-room ?" 'I had forgotten the fact, but I will take your word for it. Well, Ethel .''' "Well, last night I was restless, and it was some hours before I could sleep. When at last I did so. 1 had a strange dream about that closet. It seemed that as 1 lay in bed 1 heard a noise within, as if some one were knocking at the door, and a child's voice, broken by sobs, crying piteously. 'Let me out. let rite out!' 1 thought that" I got out of bed and opened the door, and there, crouching all in a heap against the wall, was a little toy; a pretty, pale little fellow of six or seven, looking half wild with fright. At the same moment I woke." "And lo, it was a dream!" I finished. "If that is all, Ethel" "tut it is not," she interposed. ''The tranjrest part of the story has to ronie. The' dream was so vivid ;that when I woke I sat up 5n ted and looked toward the closet door, almost expecting to hear the sounds again. I 'a pa. you may believe me or not, but it is a fact that I did hear them, the murHed knocking and the pitiful cry. As I listened, it grew fainter and fainter and at length ceased altogether. Then I summoned eourage to get out of bed and open the door. There was no living creature in . the place. Was it not mysterious?" she concluded. "What can it mean'."' I glanced at her with a smile, as I refolded the paper and rose from my chair. "It means, my dear, that you had nightmare last night. Let me recommend you for the future not to eat cucumbers at dinner." "No, I'apa," she interrupted. "I was broad awake, and I heard the child's voice as plainly as I ever heard a sound in my life." "Why didn't you call me?" "I was afraid to stir' till the sound had ceased; but if I ever hear it again, I will let you know at once." "Be sure you do. Meantime, suppose you feme into the garden," 1 continued, throwing open the Erench windows; "the morning air will blow all these cobwebs from your brain." Ethel complied, and for the present I heard no more of the subject. jNjme days passed away, and we began to feel quite at home in our new quarters. A more delightful summer retreat than The Cedars could hardly be imagined, with its cool, dusky rooms, from which the sunlicht was exclude! by the screen of foliage outside; its trellised veranda, overgrown with creepers, and its smooth lawn, shaded ty the rare old cedar trees which gave the I lace its name. our friends soon discovered its attractions and took care that we should not stagnate for want of society. We kept open house; lawn-tennis, garden parties and boating excursions were the order of the day. It was jdorious summer weather, the days warm and golden, the nights starlit and still. One night, havmg important letters to finish, I sat up writing after all the household were in bed. The window was open, and at intervals I glanced up from my paper across the.moonlit lawn, where the shadows of the cedars lay dark and motionless. Now and then a great downy moth would flutter in and hover round the shaded lamp; now and then the swallows under the eaves uttered a faint, sleepy chirp. For all otther sijns and sounds of life I might have been the only watcher in all the sleeping world. I had finished my task and was just closing my writing-case when I heard a hurried movemement in the room above Ethel's. Footsteps descended the stairs, and the next moment the timing room uoor opened, and Ethel appeared, in a long white dressinggown, with a small night-lamp in her hand. There was a look on her face which made me start up and exclaim: "What is the matter? AY hat has hapjened?" he sat down the lamp and came toward me. "I have heard it again," she breathed, lying her hand on my wrist. "You have heard what?" 1 "The noise in the box-room." I stared at her a moment in bewilderment, and then half smiled. "Oh, is that it?" I exclaimed in a tone of relief, "i ou have been dreamiHg again, it wems." "I have not been asleep at all," she re plied. "The sounds have kept me awake, They are louder than the first time; the child seems to be sobbing and cryingasif his heart would break. It is miserable to hear it." "Have you looked inside?"' I asked, im pressed in spite of myself by her manner. "No, I dared not to-night. I was afraid of seeing something, she returned with a fchiver. "Come, we must get to the bottom of this mystery," I said cheerfully, and taking up the lamp i led the way up-stairs to her room As the door of the mysterious closet was level with the wall, and papered like it, I did not Perceive it until Ethel pointed it out. I listened with my ear close to it, but heard not the faintest sound, and after wait ing a moment threw it open and looked in, holding the lamp so that every corner wa.i lighted. It was a cramped, close, airless place, the ceiling (which was immediately below the upper staircase) sloping at an at ute angle to the Moor. A glance showed me that it contained nothing but a broken chair and a couple of empty boxes. Slightly shrugging my shoulders I closed the rioor. "Your ghost is 'vox et pnetere nihil,' it xpms," I remarked dryly. "Don't you tli ink. Ethel, vou mar have been " Ethel held up her hand, motioning me to silence. "Hark!" she whispered, "there it is again! JJut It is dying away now. Listen" J complied, half infected by her excite

merit, tut within and without the house all was profoundly still.

J here it has cea.-ed, she saul at lengtn. drawing a deep breath. "You heard k, uiI you not?" 1 shook my neau. ".My near .uuiei, mere was nothing to hear." She opened her blue eyes to their widest. "I'apa am I not to believe the evidence of my own senses?" "Not when they are anected by nervous excitement. If you give way to this fancy vou will certainly make yourself ill. See how you tremble! Come, lie down again and try to sleep." "Not here." she returned, glancing round with a shudder. "I shall go to the spare chamber. Nothing would induce me to spend another night in this room." 1 saul no more, out I leit perpiexea ana uneasy. It was so umiKe j-.tnei to muuige in superstitious fancies that l began to iear she must be seriously out of health, ami I resolved for my own satisfaction to have a doctor's opinion regarding her. It happened that our nearest neighbor was a physician w hom I knew by repute, though not personally acquainted with him. Atter breakfast, without mentioning my intention to my daughter, I sent a note to Dr. Cameron, requesting him to call at his earliest convenience. lie came without delay a tall, gravbearded man of middle age, with a-grave, in telligent facp, observant eyes and sympa thetic manner. His patient received him with undisguised astonishment, and on learning that ho had called at my request she gave me a look of mute reproach. "I am sorry that papa troubled you. Dr. Cameron. There is really nothing whatever the matter with me," she said. And indeed at that moment, with flushed cheeks and eyes even brighter than usual. she looked as little like an invalid as could well be imaeined. "My dear Ethel," I intended, ''tvhen peo ple take to dreaming startling dreams and hearing supernatural sounds it is a sign of something wrong with either mind or body, as I am sure Dr. Cameron will tell you," The doctor started perceptiblw "Ah is that Miss Dysart's case?" he inquired, turning to her with a sudden look of interest. She colored and hesitated. "I have had a strange experience, which papa considers a lusion. I dare say you will be of the same opinion. "Suppose vou tell me what it was,.' he suggested. Mie was silent, trilling with one of her silver bangles. 'l'lease excuse me." she said hurriedly at length. "I don't care to speak of it, but papa will tell you." And before I could de tain her she had hurriedly lett the room. When we w ere alone he turned to me in quiringly, and in a few words I related to him what the reader already knows. He listened without interruption, and when I had finished sat fr sonm moments without peaking, thoughtfully stroking his beard. He was evidently impressed by what he had heard, and I waited anxiously for his opinion. At length he looked up. ".Mr. Dysart, he said gravely, "you w ill be surprised'to learn that your daughter is not the first who has had this strange 'exerience. Previous tenants oi mo cedars nave heard exactly the same sounds which she describes." I pushed my chair back half a yard in astonishment. "Impossible!" He nodded emphatically. "It is a fact, though I don't pretend to explain it. These stramre manifestations have been noticed at intervals for the last three or four vears; ever since the house was occupied by a Captain Yandeleur, whose orphan lephcw "Yandeleur?" I interrupted; "why he was a client of ours. He insured Iiis nephew's lile in our office for a large amount, and " "And a few months afterward the child suddenly and mysteriously died," my com panion put in. A singular coincident to say the least of it." "So singular," I acquiesced, "that we thought it a case for inquiry, particularly as the ex-Captain did not bear" the best of char acters, and was known to be over head and ears in debt. But I am bound to say that after the closest investigation nothing was discovered to suggest a suspicion of foul play." "Nevertheless, there had been foul play," was the Doctor's reply. "You don't mean that he murdered the boy! that pretty, fragile-looking little fellow" "No, he did not murder him, but he let him die," Dr. Cameron rejoined. "Perhaps f ou are not aware," he continued, "that the ittle lad was somewhat feeble in mind as well as body. I attended him more than once at Yandeleur's request, and found that among other strange fears and antipathies he bad a morbid dread of darkness. To be left alor.e in a dark room for only a few minutes was enough to throw him into a paroxysm of nervous excitement. His uncle -who. by the way, professed more affection for him than I could quite believe in, when I noticed how the child shrank from him consulted me as to the best means of overcoming this weakness. I strongly advised him to humor it for the present, warning him that any mental shock might endanger the boy's reason, or even his life. I little thought those words of mine would prove his death-warrant." "What do you mean?" "Only a few days afterward. Yandeleur locked him up all night in a dark closet, where he wa found the next morning, crouching against the wall; his hands clinched, his eyes lixed and staring dead., "Cood Heavens, how horrible! But no word of this was mentioned at the inquest?" "No; and 1 did not hear of it myself till long afterward, from a woman who had been Yandeleur's housekeeper, but was too much afraid of him to betray him at the time. From her, too, I learned by what rehned cruelty the toor little lad s nerves had been shaken and his health undermined. If 'the intention makes the deed,' James Yan deleur was a murderer." I was silent a moment, thinking, with an uncomfortable thrill, of Ethel's dream. "I wish I had never entered this ill-omened house!" I exclaimed at length. "I dread the efieetof this revelation on my daughter'! mind. "Why need vou tell her?" he questioned "My adv ice is to say nothing more about it. I he sooner she forgets thp subject the better, Send her to the seaside; change of scene will soon efiace it from her memory. He roe as he spoke and took up his hat. "What has become of Yandeleur?" I in quired "I have heard nothing of him since we paid the policy, "lie has been living abroad, I believegoing to the dogs, no doubt. But he is in England, now," the doctor added: "or else it was his 'fetch' which I saw at your gate the other night. "At our gate!" I echoed in astonishment, "What the deuce was he doing there?" "He seemed to be watching the house. It was last Sunday evening, t had been din ing with friends at luchmond, and on my way back, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I no ticed a man leaning over the gate of The .e dars. On hearing footsteps he turned and walked away, but not before I had a glimpse oi ins lace. "And you are sure it was he?" "Almost certain though he was greatly altered for the worse. I have a presentiment, do you know, that you will see or hear oi him yourself before long," he added thoughtfully, as he shook hands and went his way. I lost no time in following his advice with regard to Ethel, whom I dispatched to Sear borough, in charge of my married sister a few days later. I had taken a hearty dislike to The Cedars, and resolved to get it ofl my hands as soon as might be. Until another tenant could be found, how ever, I continued to occupy it, going to and from, town as before. One evening I was sitting on the lawn, smoking an after dinner cigar, and re-reading Ethel's last letter, which quite reassured me as to her health and Fpixits, when our

sedate old houkeeper presented herself with the information that a "party" had called to see the house.

"A gentleman or a lady?' I inquired. "A gentleman, sir, but he didn t give his name." I found the visitor standing near the open window of the drawing-room; a tall, gaunt man of thirty-five or thereabouts, with handsome but haggard leotures, and restless dark eyes. His lirs were covered by a thick mustache, which he was nervously t wisting as he stood looking out at the lawn. "This house is to be let. 1 believe: will you allow me to look over it?' he asked, turning toward me as I entered. His voice seemed familiar: I looked at urn more closely, and then, in spite of the change in his appearance, I recognized Cap tain andeleur. What could have brought him here, I wondered. Surely he would not care to return to the house'even if he were in a position to do so which, judging from the sliabbujess of his appearance, seemed very doubt ful. Half a dozen vague conjectures passed through my mind as I g'anced in his face and noticed the restless, "hunted" look which told of some wearing dread or anxiAlter a moment s hesitation l assented to his request, and resolved to conduct him my self on his tour of inspection. "I think I have met you before, 1 said, feeling curious to know whether he recolected me. He glanced at me absently. 'VViYl v- Vint nrt rwf bitA v-rtora fr T have been living abroad," was his reply. Having shown him the apartments on the ground tloor, I led the way upstairs. He i-ii i i ...... lonoweu me ironi room to room in an aosenr, listless fashion, till we came to the chamber which Ethel had occupied. Then his interest seemed to reviv all at once. He glanced quickly around the walls, his eves resting on the door of the box-closet. "That is a bath or dressing-room, I sup pose," he said, nodding toward it. "No, only a place for lumber. Perhaps I ougtt to tell you that it is said to be haunted," I added, affecting to speak carelessly, while I kept my eyes on his face. He started and turned toward me. "Haunted bv what?" he inquired with a faint sneer. "Nothing worse than rats or mice, I expect." "lhere is a tragical story connected with that place," I answered, deliberately. "It is said that an unfortunate child was shut up there to die of fear, in the dark." The color rushed to his face, then retreat ed, leaving it deadly white. "Indeedl he faltered; "and do you mean to say that he the child has been seen?" ".o, but he has been heard, knocking within, and crying to be let out. The fact is confirmed by every tenant who has occupied the house since" 1 stopped short, startled by the eilc-et of mv revelation. My companion was gazing at me with a blank stare of horror which banished all other expression from his face. Good Heavens:" I heard him mutter, "can it be true? Can this be the reason why I was drawn back to the place in spite of myself?" Ilecollecting himself, however, he turned to me and forced his white lips into a smile. "A mysterious story, he commented dryly. "I don't believe a word of it, myself, but I should hardly care to take a house with such an uncanny reputation. I think I need not trouble you any further." As he turned toward the door 1 saw his figure sway as if he were falling. He put his hand to his side, with a gasp of pain, a 1 i i i i- ii e Diuis.'i snaue garnering over nis iace. "Are you ill?" I exclaimed in alarm. "I it is nothing. I have a weakness of the heart, and 1 am subject to these attacks. May 1 ask you for a glass of water?" I left the room to procure it. V hen 1 re turned I found that he had fallen upon the bed in a dead swoon. I hastily dispatched a servant for Dr. Cam eron, who happened to be at home, and came immediately. He recognized my visitor at once, and glanced at me signilicarjtly. i rapidly ex plained what had happened, while he bent over the unconscious man and bared hi3 chest to listen to the heart-beats. When he raised himself his face was ominously grave. "Is he in danger?" I asked, quickly. "Not in immediate danger, but the next attack will probably be his last. His heart is mortally diseased." It was nearly an hour before andeleur awoke and then only to partial consciousness. He lay in a sort of stupor, his limbs nerveless, his hands damp and cold. "It is impossible to remove him in this condition," the Doctor re.'-arked; "I fear he must stay here for the night. I will send you some one to watch him." "Don t trouble 1 intend to sit up with him nysef," I replied, speaking on an impulse 1 could hardly explain. He looked at roe keenly over his spectacles. "Should you like me to share you watch?" he inquired, after a moment. "I should be only too glad of your company, if you can come without inconvenience." He nodded. "I must leave you now, but I will return in an hour," he responded. Three hours had passed away; it was nearly midnight. The night was oppressively close and profoundly still. The bedroom window stood wide open, but not a breath of air stirred the curtains. Outside, all was vague and dark, for neither moon nor stars were visible. Yandeleur still lay, half dressed, on the bed, but now asleep. His deep, regular bieathing, sounded distinctly in the silence. Dr. Gameron sat near the dressing-table, reading by the light of a shaded lamp. I, too, had a book, but found it impossible to keep my attention fixed upon it. My mind was possessed by an uneasy feeling, half dread, half expectation. 1 found myself listening nervously to fancied sounds, and starting w hen the "doctor turned a leaf. At length, overcome by the heat and stillness. 1 closed my eyes, and unconsciously sank into a doze. How long it lasted I caii not tell, but I woke abruptly, and looked round with a sense of vague alarm. I danced at the Doctor. He had laid down his book, and was leaning forward with one arm on the dressing-table, looking intently toward the door of the box-room. Instinctively I held my breath and listened. Never shall I forget the thrill that ran through my nerves when I heard from within a murhVd knocking sound, and a child's voice, distinct, crying piteously: "Let me out, let me out!" "Do you hear?" I whispered, bending forward to my companion. He inclined his head in assent and motioned me to be silent, pointing toward the bed. Its occupant moved uneasily, as if disturbed, muttering some incoherent phraces. Suddenly he pushed back his covering and sat upright, gazing round with a wild, bewildered stare. The pitiful entreat' was repeated more violently, more passionately than before. "Let me out, let me out!" With a cry that rang through the rwm, Yandeleur sprang from the bed. reached the closet door in two strides and tore it open. It was empty. Empty at least to our eyes, but it was evident that? our companion beheld what we could not. For a few breathless seconds he stood as if frozen, his eyes fixed with the fascination of terroron something just within the threshold; then, as if retreating before it, he recoiled st-p by step across the room till he was stopped by the opposite wall, where ho crouched in an attitude of abject fear. The sight was so horrible that I could bear it no longer. "Are you dreaming? wake up!" I exclaimed, and shook his shoulder. He raised his eyes and looked at me vacantly. His lips moved, but no sound came from them. Suddenly a convulsive shudder ran through him, and he fell heavily forward at my feet. "lie has swooned again," I said, turning to mv companion, who stooped and lifted , the drooping head on to his knee.

After one glance he laid it gently down again. "He is dead," was his grave reply. And with Yandeleur's death my story ends, for after that night the sounds were heard no more. The forlorn little ghost was at rest.

KNOTTY PROBLEMS. Our readers are invited to furnish original enigmas, charades, riddles, rebuses and other "knotty problems," addressing all communications relative to this department to . B. Chad bourn, Lewiston, Maine. o. 1324. Incomplete Rhyme. I A Lesson for young folks. It was a lovely day in May When I went out to rake the . I had no hat upon my head. for i nad leit a on tncOut iu the tield I met a eat That had just caught a louR-tailed And then I caw a febapcy dog Wade in the water for a" ; And next I spied a speckled hen, un r.aiuam cnietens, nine or And then to erown ruy morning luck, I saw a quacking silver . 1 turned and ran to rind my mother, But at the door I met my : He gave my head a gentle pat. And paid. "Where is your old straw I told him that I didn't know, And then my little brother , Who ate a pie made out of quail, i-aid, "iiang your nat upon a Patty. No. 1325. Anagrams. I. 'Po 's KI M nun" is hard to find, but you can trace it if you mind. II. "(Jay neat Kisr.s" run in sands. In a fort igu country in other lands. 1. K. Boo. N'o. 1320. What Am I? My whole means certain work unskillftilly done. Behead and leave a word meaning to move s'owly. Twice behead again, and leave a tool. Transuse this tool and you will have a rule of action. WLat am I? U. Ker. No. 1327. A Development. I enter life a humble thing Of mean and low degree; The people pass and care not how They crush and trample me. And then I lie as calm and still, And dumb, as if I'd drank The essence of the drowsy weed That grows on Lethe's bank. Then I awake and ride the air, The loveliest of things; And many a queen raiht envy me The splendor of my w ings. J. A. Xo. 1328. A "Well-Known Iair. An implement when centered 1'iCtween two hissing souhds Will show a pair I have ventured That's traveled all the towns Within the Union's border. In North, South, Kast and West; Though oft times out of order, They never seek a rest. Joseph O'Brien. No. 1329. To Get Down. A man having two geese put one under each arm and went up on a high house, when he asked Iiis friends: "How shall I get down the quickest?". What should they answer? Khkdi Iches. 'o. 1330. A Charade. From the shores of the North, where the icebergs are gleaming. To the isles of the fcouth, where the flowers breathe balm; From the West, w here the pine's dusky peunons are streaming, To the East, where the Persian lies under the palm; On the breast oi the sea, where the billows are foaming. In the depths of the wood, where the nightingales sing; From the rose of the moru to the grey of the gloaming, Mv first is the lord of the Earth, and a King! With music's vast power has Apollo endowed him, And Ceres has lent him her science complete. And Cupid to steal his soft erts has allowed him, And Mercury's winjrs are attached to his feet; And bis is a name for the poets to sin sr. And the ladies to worship, My first and a King! But see you afar that fair stately tower. And the glittering Steele it proudly upholds? The future shall see it bereft of it's power, A tremblinjr wreck that the ivy enfolds. And mv first in his glory, - shall fall sure and last, When the hand of my second is on him at last ! But pas from the glow of my first In proud splendor, And pass from the shade of my last in it's eloom. And look where the woman, so lovely and tender. Sheds sweetness around her, a bright rose in bloom! 'Tis the that can all over Earth's saddest places, To fling softest sunshine, and strew fairest flow ers. And e'en from my last half the languor lie chases. As he smiles to acknowledge her blandishing powers. And where are the sorrows that over vou fall. I, O first that sweet woman knows not how to ALL. Joe Amort. A Fine Prix. The reader furnishing the best lot of answers to the "Knotty Problems" of September will be awarded "The Triumphs of Steam," finely printed, appropriately illustrateu, ana nanasomeiv Dounu in ciotn. Kach week's solution's should be forwarded within six days after the date of the Sentinel containing the puzzles answered. August's Award. The best lot of answers to the "Knotty Problems" of August came from t. Y. Kent, JIartwell, Ohio, to whom tlie prize is awarded. His list was a remarkably good one, exceeding 95 per cent in rank, l'nt one other, that of Gertrude A. Jdahorney, Irvington reached io per cent. Of smaller lists quite a number were complete for a single week. Answers. 130. A planet. 1310. Saint's-day. 1311. Shakespeare; Cowper; Otway; Tennyson ; Thomson. 1CA2. C-a-t. Sea or see, a, tea or t.1 1313. 1. Transpadane. 2. Half-terete. 3. (Jarnishment. 1314. 1. Cleaves, leaves, eaves. Drear, rear, ear. 3. Cheats, heats, eats. Please, lease, ease. 5. Scold, cold, old. Whale, hale, ale. 1313. Florence Nightingale. )r. Tierce's "Favorite Prescription" is not extolled as a "cure-all," but admirably fulfills a singleness of purpose, being a most potent specific in those chronic weaknesses peculiar to women. Particulars in Dr. Pierce's large treatise on "Diseases Peculiar to Wr men." IllO nasres. sent for ten cents in stamps. Address World's Dispensary Meduai association, h uain street, xuuaio, -V 1. Hay Fever. I can recommend Ely's Cream Balm to all Hay Fever M'.flerer, it beinir. In my opiaion, a sure cure. 1 was afflicted with Hay Fever for twentytrnin, hum iioiT ifiuiv luuuu vtuinui;uk it lief. W. 11. Haskins, Marshfield, Vt. Kcnom Debilitated Men. You are allowed a free trial of thirty days of the use of Dr. Dye's Celebrated Yoltaic Belt, speedy relief and permanent cure of Nervous t .,u:ll. l - c I If 1 1 I jseuim v, iota in viutiiiv buu inaiiuuuu, iiiu all kindred troubles. Also, for many other diseases. Ccmnlete restoration to health. vigor and manhood guaranteed. No risk is incurred. Illustrated phamphlet, with full information, terras, etc., mailed free by addressing Yoltaic Ucit Company, Marshall,

THE HOME.

.It Is not doubted that men have a borne in that place where each one has established bis hearth and the sum of his possession and fortunes, whence he will not depart if nothing calls him away; whence if be has departed he seems to be a wanderer, and if he returns be ceases to wander. Condition from Civil Law. "Then stay at home, my neart, and rest, Tb's bird is safest in the nest; 0;r all that llutter their wings and fly, A hawk is hovering in the sky." Longfellow YOUNG FOLKS. In September. Mori'ings frosty grow, and cold, :rovn the grass on hill and wold ; Crows are cawing sharp and clear Where the rustling corn grows sear; Mustering flocks ot black oirds call: Here and there a few leaves fall. In the meadows larks siug sweet, Chirps the cricket at our feet, In September. Noons are snnny, warm, and still; A golden haze o'erhangs the hill. Amber sunshine 's on the floor Just within the open door; Mill the crickets call and creak, Never found, though long we seek, Oft comes faint report of gnu; Busy flies buzz iu the sun, In September. Evenings chilly are. and damp, Karly lighted is the lamp; Fire burns, and kettle sings, Smoke ascends in thin blue rings; On the rug the children lie; In the west the soft lights die; From the elms a robin's song Rings out sweetly, lingers long, Iu September, -Elizabeth Cole, in St. Nicholas for September. Maggie Lynn's Novel. I Youth s Coiniuinion. "What is the matter with Mag?" Ileslcr Lynn asked her mother. "The very minute she conies from school up she runs into the garret, and she locks the door and won't let one of us come in. All day Saturday she was up there, and when she did come down, she was so cross and hateful there was no standing her. ' 'She's reading something interesting, I suppose, answered the busy mother, who took no time to think of any of her chil dren's caprices. "No one can read or do anything down here for the noise you all make, i ou re like a lot ot wi.d horses on a stampede. Like as not, though, Maggie's reading a trashy novel. She's too fond of 'em, anyway. 1 can t afierd to have her idling her time up there, w ith the big bas ket of clean clothes to sort and mend. Hester, run up stairs, and tell her to come right down to her work. Hester, an overgrown girl of fourteen, tor mented by an insatiable curiosity to find out other people s business, skipped up the two Hights of stairs with alacrity, and thumped loudly at the door. " hat are you banging there for?" cried an impatient voice. "jila savs you're to come right down.' screamed Hester through the kevhole. "She's got lots of work ready for you, and you aint to lose one minute, either, she says, or she'll fetch you herself." B Having delivered this exaggerated version of the message, Hester seated herself on the step, chuckling at the grumbling she heard within, and determined to wait until Masrgie came out. Perhaps she might get a peep into the room. As the key grated in the lock and the door opened, she bent forward, but could see nothing but h litter ot paper on the Moor. Maggie came out looking Hushed and angry. "No one can have a minute's peace in this house!" she cried, fretfully. "It's do this. do that, from morning till night. It s worse than being a slave. Miss Hester, it's you that's at the bottom of ma's calling me this morning. You're never satisfied unless you're spiting me." l never said a word, answered Hester, coolly. Put being, with all her faults, a truthful girl, she added, "Well, I did ask ma what you were doin' up in the garret all the time. Maybe hearing your name reminded her that j'ou've been shirkiu your share of work for two weeks. Why, I've sewed ever so many pieces, and helped ma in the kitchen, and you amusing yourself plaving in the garret by yourself." "Playing in the garret!" repeated Maggie, scornfully. "Some day jerhaps you'll see what kind of play it is"" Hester opened her round eyes at this mysterious speech, as she followed Maggie into their mother's room. "Well, you've taken vour time, both of you, to get here," said Mrs. Lynn. "Look at that pile of clothes to be lixed, and you two idling away your time. Those four boys of mine just seem to try how much tearing and rending they can do, ami you, Maggie, don't try to help me one bit. Yery well," the poor woman added, with a heavy sigh, "when hard work's conquered me, and I aint as strong as 1 was, you'll be sorry for your idleness." Maggie did not answer, did not even glance at her mother's careworn face, but taking up a ek, eyed it with a disgusted look. "What ails the sock?" Mrs. Lynn asked. "The holes ar'nt so very big, as far as I can see." "It isn't the holes, ma, but I've got some writin to do, and if you knew what it was, you wouldn't keep me here mending old socks." "I know what's got to be done, writin' or no writin'," her mother answered decisively. "Your pa and I have skimped and toiled to give j'ou an education, so you could help yourself or help us on a pinch. But if your learnin' is to make you lazy and above work, the sooner you leave school the better. You'll never be spry enough to make a good teacher." "1 don't expect to be a teacher!" Maggie cried, her eyes filling with indignant tears. "I'll be something better than that, and I'll make as much money as I want. Just wait and you'll see!" "1 guess it will Je a long wating," her mother answered, with a laugh. "When you've done your work, we'll talk about it. Now girl's do your best." As she hurried out of the room. Maggie su tiered her work to drop on her lap, and fell into a profound reverie. "How provoking," she thought, "just as I had got the lovely Eoline to the brook to be called away! Shall she cross it, and find Hernandes wounded among the trees? Or shall his enemies attack him in her presence, and lie resist gallantly, killing and wounding them right and left. Now which would be more interesting I wonder?" Ix)st in thought, she forgot how time passed, until a triumphant laugh from Hester roused her. "Don't you wish you were me, Mag?" she cried. "Look at my pile! Just two more ieccs to mend, and yours ain't touched. I'll lave time to go to Mallet Woods and get some nuts. If you hadn't been moonin' around, you would have been free, too. "Hester," cried Mag, desperately, "if you'll finish my share of work, I'll give you that lovely blue neck ribbon you want so much! Yes, and I'll do more! I'll take vou to the garret and tell you my secret. There now!" "Done!" said Hester, eagerly, her nimble flncers attacking her sister's untouched work. "I work so fast, it won't take me any time to finish. If ma'll just keep away! but I reckon she's safe in the kitchen for two hours at least." Maggie, released, fled to her garret, and there, with an old blank book for a desk, she wrote until the sombre evening light grew dim. Our Maggie, as I suppose you have guessed, was in,the first efforts of authorship. She was seventeen j'ears old, devoted to trashy novelreading, too sentimental to be sensible, and with an exalted opinion of her own literary tastes. She expected to send "Eoline's Fate," as her tale was called, to a prominent magarine, and did not doubt its unparalleled success. She was sure, as soon as it was published, every periodical in the country would secure her, and she would put her own price on her writings. Yes, her mother was grumbling, but what would she say when she found the famous "Estrella" (her nom de plume) was her own daughter? She would Lire a servant to help her mother, for of

course the common, sordid work of the household would not be touched by her! Of course yoa think Maggie a very silly girl, which she was, but there are a great many quite as silly all over the country, whose lite-ary aspirations are founded upon as weak and sorry foundations. A person must have a purpose, experience and inspiration to write. "Don't sorget your promise," Hester whispered the next morning, as she met her sister on the stairway. 'Come along, then," Maggie answered, and in solemn state Hester was ushered into the garret, and there compelled to swear never to reveal the great secret which was to be entrusted to her honor. "Now, then," said Mag, mysteriously, "I'm writing a story to be published in a magazine." "A real story'" cried Hester, "and it's go ing to be printed! Where is it?" "Here,' said Mag, laying her hand on a pile of untidy, blotted pages, which reposed in tie broken lid of an old trunk. "What, them blotty paers!" cried Hester, who was always serenely oblivious of grammar. "A few blots won't matter," Maggie answered majestically. It's the mean ones who are so very particular The printer's business is to correct all mistakes. I expect my story will be beautifully illustrated, full of splendid pictures." "Oh my!" was all Hester could say. For once, the irrepressible was conquered, and ihe gazed with respect at the supposed writer of an illustrated tale. "Wasn't it very hard to write a real story?" she asked. Mag put on a careless air. "Well, it isn't every one who has genius, you know. Hut if they have, things just come to them without their thinking hardly. Now, I'll just read you a page or so of the story, that you may know how it runs. Eoline (she's the heroine,) after going through all kinds of dangers and trials, is wrecked on an island. " 'Sadly Eole gazed over the sea, which, rippling on the sand, washed her fairy feet with its briny tears. She did not see that her satin slippers and rich dress were drenched by the salt spray' '' "Oracious! hadn't she been wrecked?" interrupted Hester. "Don't you s'pose her clothes were drippin' wet when she got to land, and how did she manage to keep on slippers?" "Pshaw!" impatiently, "she was wrecked in the night, goosey, and her clothes had time to dry. Dut people don't think ef those things when they are interested in a story." She read on. " 'Suddenly a white sail appeared above the horizon, like the star of hope. Eoline gazed, her white bosom heaved, her beautiful eyes grew wild, and clasping her hands above her head, she cried, "Saved! saved!" and fell in a dead faint on the sand. " "Oh, my goodness!" murmured Hester,

"now wasn't that an awful time for her to faint, just when she ought to be making sig nals to the vessel? Of course, if she was nat on the ground, thev couldn't see her. Then, too, the sea might come over, and sweep her away. ' "I will not read another word!" cried Maggie, indignantly, throwing down her manuscript. "ou ve no more appreciation of literary work than old Daisy out there eating grass. ho asked you to criticise." "I wasn't criticising." Hester said humbly. In fact, she didn't quite understand what tue word meant. "I think it s a beautiful story, and do please read more." "No," relentlessly, "vou don't understand. When the story is printed you can read it all at once. I m going to send it off to-morrow." So when the next day came, Maggie herself took the precious parcel to the post omce. 1 hen followed a week of waiting. and during that waiting Mrs. Lynn's prophecy was fulfilled, and her work conquered her. While she lay ill, Mr. Lynn said to his daughters. "The doctor says your ma's clean outdone with work. I don't understand how that can be, with two stout, strong girls like you to help her. "O pa!" cried Hester, bursting into tears. "I did do all I could, and ma knows it, too." "Well, I cant say where the fault lies; but I'll tell you one thing, and I want you to remember it. Doctor savs if your ma keeps on working so hard when she gets up, she won't live a year." He turned away and the two girls looked at each other with appalled laces. "Oh, I ought to have helped her!" sobbed Maggie; "but then I'll help her more when 1 get the money for my story. We'll hire a servant, and she shan't do a stroke of work. I ought to hear this evening, Hester. Please go to the office and see if there isn't a letter for me.:' Hester returned about dusk with a letter, and a bulky package. With trembling fingers Maggie opened it, and everything swum before her eyes, as herown manuscript dropped out. The letter was the usual polite form declining with thanks the sugar coated pill which is as hard to swollow as a dose of wormwood. But the editor of the magazine went a little out of bis way to give a few words of sound advice: "You are very young, I am sure from your writings," he wrote, "and I advise you as a friend to waste no time in foolish stories which have no merit, and which distract your mind from real duties and useful work. You will have to change your style and purpose, or you will never make even a fair writer. A writer must have a purpose beyond mere fancy; but you can make yourself a good, true woman, which is more than all the romances in the world." Probably Maggie felt very sore at the downfall of her ambitious hopes, but mortification, and remorse for her own neglected duties, taught her an excellent lesson. Anxietiy for her mother, and the thousand and one little duties which fell to her share, prevented all morbid regrets. Mrs. Lynn recovered, and has no occasion to complain of want of assistance, but she knows nothing of "Eoline's Fate," which lies in the darkest corner of Maggie's desk. Hester never betrayed the secret, but in her inmost soul she thinks the story was rejected because the publisher was jealous of her sister's genius. She had not read his letter, however, and can't understand why Maggie has deserted her garret, and changed her whole manner of life. Dut Maggie is making an experience, out of which she may yet have something useful to write. Before one writes for the world, one must have something to say. Know thyself, by reading the "Science of Life," the best medical work ever published, for young and middle-aged men. FITS. All Fits stopped free by Dr. Kline's Great Nerve Restorer. No Fits after first day's use. Marvelous cures. Treatise and $2 trial bottle free tc Fit cases. Send to Dr. Kline, 931 Arch fetreet, Foil adelphia. Pa. E. A. Pabkkr, Attorney for Plaintiff. SHERIFF'S SALE By virtue of a certified copy of a decree to me directed, from the Clerk of the Marion lircuit Court of Marion County, Indiana, in a cause wherein Rebecca A. Walter is plaintifl and Lewis Walter et. al. are defendants, (case No. 4.00.',) requiring me to make the sums of monev in said decree provided and in manner as provided for in said decree, with interest on said decree and costs, I wiU expose at public sale, to the highest bidder, on SATURDAY, TTIE 10TH DAY OF OCTOBER, A. D., 18Ü5, Between the hours of 10 o'clock a. m. and 4 o'clock p. m., of aid day, at the door of the Court-house of Marion County. Indiana, the rents and profits for a term not exceeding seven years, of the following real estate, to-wit: Lot number five (f) in Fatout's subdivision of lots number twenty-four (im), tweniy-tive iri), twenty-six (26) and twenty-seven (27), of Fletcher's subdivision of outlot number one hundred and sixty-nine (16'J),of the City of Indianapolis. Marion County. Indiana. If Mich rents and profits will not sell for a sufficient sum to satisfy Mid decree, interest and costs, 1 will, at the same time and place, expose to public sale the fee simple of said real estate, or so much thereof as may be sufficient to discharge faid decree, interest and costs. Said sale will b made without auy relief whatever from valuation or appraisement fawa. GEORGE II. CARTER. Sheriff of Marion County, September, 11 A. P., IStf.

THE GREAT,

Unfailing Specific SYMPTOMS; tth a brown fur; iin in Bitter or t4 te !a moatk t tonrue coatrd white or emmg lm in the back, tides, at toint- nntw mistaken for Kheuniatiim : mr Umwi ! f Maltet sometime nauea nl vralertirh. or tnclife&tici? flatulency and acxi eructations : bowels alternately costive and U: hradaeke: loss of rncmor v. with a painful sation of having failed to do something which out'Nt ff have been dene : drfelllt r I low spirits; a thuk. yellw-v pperance of the skin and eves : a dry co. h ; Aver : restlessness; the tnnt is scanty and hitt-widred. ami. it allowed to stand, deposits sediment. Slff.lr.ONS LIVER REGULATOR Is general used ia the South to arouse the Torpid Liver to a healthy action. Being entirely vegetable, no particular care is required whil using this medicine. The Kegulator acts without disturbance to tv.e ystem, diet or occupation. Jt regulates thelJrer, and Nature relieving herself, causes the bile to act as the rjurfre. The excess of bile beinc removed, m toric effect is produced, and heaid) is perfectly restored. It Begislates tha E:re!s tI Ee:Ts: cc::stipa7Ic:t. It Is a CZSTAllT C72S FC2 DYSPIFSIA. The Regulator contains no quinine, mineral, or anything that will injure the most delicate pa. tient, and is given with aafety and the happiest results to the mo-t delicate infant. For ail diseases in which a laxative, alterative or purgative is needed it will eive the most perfect satisfaction. The Cheapest, Purest and Beet Family Medicine in the World 1 f THERE IS BUT ONE SIfflKONS LIVER REGULATOR! See that vou get the genuine, with ihm re& K from Of Wrapper, prepared only by a J. H. ZEILIN & CO., olm raoraiBToas, PHILADELPHIA, PA. X majority efth ilia of the humn body arise rot a derangement of the Liver, affecting both the ttonuuh and otee!, In order to eject a cure, it noceisary to remove tho eatue. Irregu tar and ßluggUh action of the Boteels, Headache, Sichuets at the Stomach, Palm in the Back and Loin; etc., indicate that the Liver is at fault, and that nature requtree assistance to enable this organ to throut eff impurities. Prickly Ash Illtter are especially compounded for this purpose. They are mild in their action and effective a at eure; are pteasant to the taste and taken easily by both children and adult. Taken according to direction, they are a eafeand pleasant cure for Dyspepsia. General Debility, Habitual Constipation Diseased Kidneys, etc. etc .4 a Bio4Kl Purifier (toy are superior to any ether medicine f cleansing the eystcn thoroughly, and imparting new life and energy to the invalid, it tea medicine and not an I Intoxicating beverage. ! AU TOM 8I00B1ST fOl PIICIIT AS1 ItTTHt, ij andUkBOOthc PBICZ, tLOO per Bottla, PRICKU ASH BITTERS CO..S0LE PROPRIETORS St, Louis &4 Esnsss City. Mo. Chari.es A. Dryer. Attorney for Plaintiff. SHERIFF'S SALE. By virtue of a certified copy of a decree to me directe-l. from the Clerk of the Marion Circuit rourt of Marion f'onnty, Indiana, in a cause hcrc-in The Turner KuiMinK anl Savin? Association of lndiauspoli-i, Iudla ta, is Plaimiff, an.l William J. AMley ct al. are iVfenilants, (case No. 3.97J). requiring me to mute tho sum of money in sail decree provided, and in manner as provided for in said decree, with interest on said decree ami cost?. I wili expose at pub'licjsale. to the hinhest bidder, on BATCKDAY, THE 30TH DAY OF OCTOBER. A. D. between the hours of 10 o'clock A. M. and 4 o'clock K M., of raid day, at the door of the Court-hone of Marion County. Indiana, the rents ami profits for a term not exceeding seven years, of the following real estate, to-wit: Twcnty-eipht () 'evt otl'of the south side of lot sixtv-five (tiS. in Mccarty's south addition to ttio Citv of ludianaiHjiis, Mariou County, and fctate of Indiana. IfKuch reut and profits will not sell for a sufficient sum to iatiiv said decree, interest and costs, 1 will, at the f ame'time aud place, expose to public falethe fee simple of wid real estate, or so much thereof as may be sufficient to discharge said decree, interest and costs. Said sale will ba made without anv relief whatever from valuation or appraisement laws. GEORGE H. CARTER. Sheriff of Marion County. Scrtemtcr H A. D. iss. R. W. MtuKir.K, Attorney for Plaintiff. SHERIFF'S SALE By virtue of an execntion to me directed from the Clerk of the Marion Circuit Court of Marion County. Indiana, 1 will expose at public sale, to the highest bidder, on SATURDAY, THE 10TII DAY OF OCTOBER, A V. 1SS5, between the hours of 10 o'c lock a. m. and 4 o'clock p. m. of Miid day, at the door of the Court-houe of Marion County, Indiana, the rents and profits for a term not exceeding seven years, of the undivided one-half interest in and to the following real estate, to-wit: lots numbered one (1) and two (2) in Lownan' subdivision of outlot number one hundred and seventy-four (174 1. in the City of Indianapolis, Marion Cottntv. Indiana. And on failure to realize the full amonnt of judgment, interest and costs, I will, at the same time and place, expose at public sale the tee simple of Mlia real estate. Taken as the property of Elüa E, Low man, at the suit of Martin Oalm. Haid sale to be made with relief from valuation or appraisement law. GEORGE II. CARTER, Sheriff of Marios County. Sept. H, A. D. 1S85. Commissioner's Sale of Real Estate. Notice is hereby given thst I will sell at pubiia auction, at the door of the Court House of Marion Countv, Indiana, on the tirt day of October, Ives, the following described real estate in the city o Indianapolis, Mariou County, Indiana, to-wit: Beginning at the northeast corner of the lot of tuo acres, marked "11" on the approved plat of the Town of Indianapolis, on file iu the Recorder's otlice of Marion County, Indiana: thence mnnins Fouth on the line of said lot r-eventy (TO) feet, thence west parallel w ith the north line of said lot fifty ("0) feet, thence north parallel with the east line of said lot seventy (TO) feet to the norti line of said lot, thence east fifty feet to the placo of beginning. . , Terms of Sale: One-third cab. remainder m three equal Installments of six. twelve and eighteen months, the purchaser to give his notes lor the deferred payments, bearing interest at the rate of 6 per cent., payaoie in nias.nuu Krumj. CHARLES R. MYERS. Commissioner, , j juasb it tauiuwu Luvt-

FEMimi

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