Indiana State Sentinel, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 August 1893 — Page 10

THE .INDIANA STATE SENTINEL, WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 10, 1893-TWKLVK PAGES.

10

OUT OF DARKNESS INTO LIGHT.

A Novel: By Dr. OIAPTEIl XXI. A Letter. One Saturiay. when the postmaster at Cedar De!l revived the last mail for the week, the villa prs Ptood waiting to hear the letters cnlled. which was the custom at that time, paving the postmaster the trouhle of calling over the dozens of envelopes again. Among the rest was one form Isaac Akers to his mother, but none for Mrs. Brooke, none for Sparkle. From Isaac Akers's letter they learned the news of the death of John Brooke, as told by the stranpe woman who had taken the writer from the grave alive. The details were so meaner It left not a little bewilderment In the minds of the widow and daughter, but no doubt of the news it contained. The letter made mention of no other incident of that eventful night, but mentioned Important papers that he had given In care of the woman, to convey to them, and presumed she was there long before his letter was written. This bit of news set all of the villagers on tiptoe. In momentary expectation of the arrival of the unknown woman, but as she should have arrived weeks before, all manner of suspicion was conjured up. Some thought her dead, some that she had been captured and carried into the enemy's country, while not a few alleged that Phe had likely taken possession of whatever profits the papers might give and was far away, while come even thought Isaac Akers crazy and writing some hallucinations of a diseased brain. The next mail brought vidence. however, that settled one thing and that was the death of John Brooke. This had been so long expected and the evidence of which was held In doubt so long, that the event seemed to grow upon Sparkle and her mother and finally become a matter of course, without that shock which comes of a sudden from euch news, without warning. John Brooke, the village blacksmith, vras no more. The villagers could now remember his many noble qualities. Those who had derided him and persecuted him because his religious belief differed from theirs thought of that no more, His many kind acts and noble traits were all they could think of. and they finally concluded that death evens all up. When humanity learns to appreciate the good qualities of persons fluring their lifetime and does not 'save all the flowers for the grave, but makes more use of little remembranres while the poor wayfarers are still strg.'in.j along the hot, dusty pati of lifo, the world will have less tears and groans and more laughtsr and clapping of hands. The grief of some becomes a mark of vanity, they weop loudest to advertise their sympathy. This is much like giving to the foreign missionary cause, but turning a deaf car to the vall of a little sufferer that lives only across the street. Though there were but few outward Elgns of grief in the horr.-i of the widow of John Brooke, there was ?t deep uK-;:n upon the hearts of lh- stricken. John Brooke was gone. Thnt family trinity, father, mother and rhl d, was broken. Their st.ty and their hope was no more. Those patient hands that 'oi!1 at the anvil were now at rest. Th? up that Fi ike only It.? and ta",ht oniy the philosophy of i una 1 kindness were " still. Thai popu"ir form of nri-lei, called war. that makes "n--ros immortal who can beat direct other? bow to destroy, had smitten th innocent and he slept in an unknown rr.ive. Sparkle realized that th was norv a fatherless child, that her frail little craft, like a cockle-shell, was no more to be guided by that great, sirons? hand of her devoted father; that henceforth Phe must depend upon hrself, her reason, her Judgment, her energy, her Integrity. Phe must enter, unaided, into battle more fierce, more dangerous, more tempostous than her father had ver known. The hardest of all battles that humanity fights in this world are waged in the olitude and silence of human reflection. VVhen the weak child sees every prop removed and every stay broken, nights ?ome without sleep, days without rest. Every distracted throb of the heart intensifies the soul's misery. The restless head tosses from side to side, and the busy and weary mind schemes and plans seeking some way to avoid the calamities of poverty, disease and ten thousand disadvantages. From night till morn, and from mora till right it perplexos Itself. It is this silent battle that civilization has forced upon its children that people the city of the dead. With all the evils of heathenism, its benighted children at least found some rest. To the primitive and unenlightened races Fulcide and Insanity were almost unknown. These dire calamities are the heritage of what we call "enlightenment." A contemplation of our present FyBtem of grirding greed. Injustice to the toiling millions of people, the poverty and dissipation of Rreat cities, the frail constitution of million of people, the hopeless condition of milliops more, the wonder is that one-half are not crazy and that the other half does not rnd Its own existence, leaving Its shadows with the hope of finding sunshine cn the other side. Sparkle Brooke had somewhat of reason in questioning the wisdom of her own existence. To call it providential is to assume that there is some ruling power blind, deaf and dumb. Orlef has Its philosophy as well as its heroism. All humanity is cunning, it has learned to be while struggling to extricate itself from some disadvantage or some pain. With this alertness of human cunningr the races would become extinct. Though Sparkle Brooke's sorrow was ifleep and real, the experience of the past few months had taught her that grief was only to be used a.s a kind of safety-valve to keep the heart from breaking, . and she wisely concluded, as Fhe was busy during the day. struggling for the means to support herself and those whose burdens she had voluntarily placed upon her own shoulders, and whom she must feed by that continuous stitch after stitch, she had no time for Borrow except at night. Many times, after the long, wea.-v day's toil was over, with achlnsr head änd tired hands, she fell upon her bed to give way to tears and then to sleep, arising early In the morning as cheerful as could be under such circumstances, to arrange the hovse, assist her mother, who vraa well nigh broken down both In health and hope by the sad events, the echo of which came back from the battlefield. Later Sparkle would be found taking baby out of bed. bathing him and dressing him, talking baby talk to him, until remembered duties forced her to lay the treasure aide to be watched by Its invalid father while phe worked, Carl Brandon had sufficiently recovered. aftr many weeks, to wnlk without his crut'-h, thourh rot fully restored to his former strength. Being destitute of any financial resource and unable to earn a dollar, he was little -more than a pauper living on the charity of Fparkle Brooke, but always welcome, as was his child. . One evening while on the village street he heard some insinuating remark from one of the rmny. big, lubberly loafers who seem to think they were born into the world for no purple higher or bttr than that of standing upon the street corner to make remarks about def.-n:eIeB women. Thee remarks were directed at Sparkle Brooke, and to Carl Brandon were much like a coal of fire in a powder magazine. All of his darin? and agirre-ive spirit burst Into a flame. He. thought of her onlv as what she truly was, an angel

J. A. Houser.

whose benignity and goodness brought heaven, at least, into one little household; and to hear an insult hurled at her was more than he could endure. The filthy mouth of the blackguard had scarcely uttered the sentence until a strong, well-directed blow from the fist of Carl Brandon sent him to the gutter. This was too much for his companions, who were called upon to take up the fight, and they shared the fate of the first. Carl Brandon in early life and up to the time he had come to Cedar Dell had dally trained his muscles in boxing and with the sandbag and Indian clubs. Though not restored to his usual strength, his skill was more than a match for three of them, and after mashing their noses to his satisfaction he was left alone to return to hi adopted home with a bruised hand and exhausted. From that day he was respected much more than he had ever been. "There are some people of suh an Inferior nature they can only respect a gentleman when he slaps them." as Carl frequently said. This excitement was too great for him. and for a week he was confined to his bed. agln doubling the burdens of the brave girl and the work of the good mother. CIlArTF.lt XTII. Wrn-Drck. f As before mentioned, on one side of the valley where Cedar Dell was nes- ' . . .... i tied among tne runs, was an opening ui a cave, grim, gloomy and dark, suggestive of ghosts, murder and all the morbid Imagination could associate with such a place, and many were the wierd. mysterious stories the village yarner related about the "Hag's Den." as the cave was called. They told of the dead that stalked forth from these gloomy confines at low twelve; the strange voices that came from the dark opening and of unearthly, shadowy forms that always vanished crying, "Lost, lost." Regardless of all these stories the cave was not always to be without a real flesh and blood tenant. One bleak December evening, as the short, dreary day was deepening Into night and thickening clouds mingled with the blackness, the villagers shivered as they hurried along the streets to collect about the inviting hearth, a most repulsive looking creature came shuffling along in the middle of the street bearing on her back two large tin pans, a few cooking utensils and a large willow basket filled to overflowing with one or two old, soiled bed.juilu and some very ragged garments. Further down In the basket was a slice of bacon and a loaf of rye bread, a bottle of whisky, pipe and some "dog-leg" tobacco. Inspection of the newcomer' in better light would have showed her to be club-footed, cross-eyed and blessed with a suit of fiery red hair that was never combed ar.d hung all around her shoulders. To this uncanny appenram e add a dark, bluish-colored wen, large as a gallon jug, dangling from her neck and laying on her breast. At cue point on the convex surface of this abnormal growth the skin grew in a loose fold, the bottom of the fold growing downward and widening, while the upper part remained the same, forming a gathering string to the bag, leaving an opening two inches wide to the cavity beneath, making a neat little poke a cu!-de-sac large enough to carry a deck of playing cards, for which purpose it was utilized. As this anything but prepossessing creature hobbled along the street, one foot going over the other at every step, striking the ground with a heavy "chück-chuck, chuck-chuck," the beholder was inclined to debate whether to call her human or monster, and upon a more extended acquaintance would call her both human and monster, which she truly was, all the more horrible because she was a woman. Her voice was as deformed and Inartistic as her body, a squeaky, hoarse-grunt with a nasal twang that seemed to be pumped up from beneath her diaphragm. Once heard this voice could never be forgotten and It was impossible to Imitate. Though horribly deformed as it was, seemingly a monstrosity of guttera! sound mingled with hisses and quacks, truly a conglomeration of earinsulting noise, yet with this queer noise, as shocking as it may seem, she would actually try to sing, and played an accompaniment with an asthmatic accordion, that to guess its age from the appearance and music it give forth one would declare it of antediluvian origin. Removing the basket from her back, sitting it down in the middle of the j street, she deliberately sat down upon it, tnrowing one leg over the other as carelessly as a plantation darkey at a chicken show, rested the instrument of torture, the accordion, upon her knee and commenced, with a nervous, tremulous Jerk, inflating its bellows ami simultaneously her repulsive voice broke forth with the old, wheezy Instrument: "I'm wandering alone, the night is drear. And the clouds are harming low. The evening star does not appear. And the chill air threatens snow." "Though nature cursed me at my birth, Deformed and cripple.! me. And there's n home In all this earth. That wants to shelter me." "I'm hungry and cold, and sad at heart, I'm weary and lonesome, too, I feel affection's keenest dart, Stranger, I appeal to you." By the time this jargon was done and the purling and wheezing of the rickety, old accordion had ceased quite a crowd collected about the woman as her song and music, if I dare call It such, attracted the villagers. Pasing from her seat of rags In the basket, picking up a tin pan, she hobbled about from one to the other of the villagers that stood before her and said in the same unlovable voice. "Would you give a poor, wandering woman a few pennies?" Each one beholding her as a creature truly of physical. If not moral, misfortune, gave freely and liberally. Among oth-r spectators, and one who gave much, considering her limited means, was Sparkle Brooke. Sparkle's heart at this time was as heavy as the heart of the poor wretch to whom she contributed. As this deformed, repulsive-looking creature came face to face with Sparkle Brooke t;-e contrast was overpowering. She whose face had not one line of beauty whose very look would make you shudder, a picture of savagery, with her frightful eyes crossed outward, the rlht eye looking to the right and the left eye looking to the left, instead of each looking at the end of the nose, as Is usually the case; her bushy, fiery, red hair, standing out. proclaiming that It was never combed or brushed, her Jagged teeth adding to the ugliness of an ugly mouth, her great wen swinging from her neck, and the deck of cards In the little pocket disease hnd kindly made for them. She steadily looked Into the face of Sparkle, full upon whom fell the lamplight from a neighboring window. As she gazed upon the beautiful features she was as enchanted as Sparkle was horrifed. One was transfixed with admiration, the other with frar, nor did Sparkle ever seem more radiant, more beautiful, more divinely lovely than when she stood In the presence of this shocking contrast. The suffering of the poor wretch had touched the kind heart of Sparkle Brooke and brought to that fair face the evidence of pity tears, that gives to beauty a divine touh and makes it angelic. A few feet beyond Sparkle. In the range of the vision of those awful cirws-eyes, was Cnrl Brandon, as yet not seen by them. They wer fixed on Sparkle's fce with a piercing and almost unbearable gaze. She scrutinized the girl for some seconds and then let her eyes drop to the girl's feet and slowly rise upward to her face, then down and upward again. Sparkle, whose face was slighty turned from the

beholder, shuddering from a strange timidity and fear, with eyes cast down, while the rising tears glistened In the lamplight like diamonds. Still holdlns the tin pan. on which the money lay, the miserable creature, with eyes resting upon Sparkle, said, "O, child of misery, how unfortunate It is to be as beautiful as you are. The girl who fights the battles and successfully protects beauty like yours Is greater than Leonld.is defending Thermoplea against the hoard of Persians, greater than Napoleon beyond the Alps, or Wellington at Waterloo. Alas! poor girl, how hard a battle you have to fight, against your??lf. When the fire of the blood wraps the citldal of virtue In flames, brave Is she who beats back the hot carnage of humanity and bears herself to the cool and snowy peak of conscience." Gazing still upon the beautiful face, that had now turned away, the hag said, half dreamingly, "Yes, beautiful child, there is some awful enemy that seeks your ruin." Raising her eyes In a meditating way they fell upon the face of Carl Brandon, who was looking directly at the repulsive face of the hag, trying to control a rage that almost compelled him to fall upon the old monster. To see Sparkle Brooke's feelings wounded was more than he could stand and to hear a revelation that lifted the veil from his de

signs enrared him still more and jet disarmed him. He was now a fierce coward. As the cross-eyes of the woman rested upon him she dropped the tin pan with the money that she was still holding and threw both hands up. as If warding off some evil, and said In that grunt, "My God, that awful monster, he Is too awful and fierce to look upon. He carries the devil in his heart, in whose mouth are a thousand fangs. In years of wandering never before have I beheld a human soul more deformed than my awfully distorted body. Let me hide myself; I shudder." She grabbed the accordion and pitched it into the basket, swung the latter, with her other bundles, upon her back, turning once more to shudder as she looked at Carl, her eyes falling upon the frightened fae of Sparkle, she said, "Sweet child, pardon me if I have frightened you, but I warn you, your danger is near. I am glng to yonder cave to live with the bats, and when you want to see me come thee and say. "Wendeck, old Wendeck. come forth!" Acaln remembering her money and the pan, she gathered it in the darkness as best she could, for not a villager would touch it. Wandering down the street her feet went chuck-chuck on the frzen ground, the pans rattling, the old accordion wheering, and the great old wen. with the dck of cards swinging to and fro t everv step, suffestin' truly why she called herself "Wendeck." Thus she hobbled over the street as the villagers watched, speechless, until she wnt Into the mouth of the cave, where they had never seen any living being enter before. cnPTr;R XTtll. The line' Den. This woman had been by the side of John Brooke when he died; had taken Isaac Akers from a living tomb; had strugeled through the wilderness, over hills and through valleys; had been attacked by wild beasts and crippled; had gone through many vicissitudes and. finally, after a long struggle, arrived at Cedar Dell with the papers. Upon arrival she had been the object of her mifsion and conscience pointed out a continuation of her duties. Having heard of the cave from a countryman the day before she entered the village she resolved to make it her home and remain in seclusion for awhile, at least till she fully understood the conditions of the objects of her mission. The next day after she had entered the cave villagers came by twos and threes and dozens to look in, and their superstitious tongues began to wag about the murder den, as they often called it. Mystery upon mystery was heaped up about the history of the cave, how murderers used to hide there, and how their victims nightly were lured to the mouth of the cave, and within, by the plaintive cric-s of women for help, but when they entered the cave they were never known to return, and how an old witch once, who had a familiar spirit, has sold herself to the devil and drawn up the contract and signed it In her blood and burned it in the witch-fire, from whence it went directly to Satan, that being the moans by which written communications were sent to him, according to the opinion of devil worshipers. Though Wendeck could see the comers and goers and hear their clatter from her dark nook, where she would often hide near the mouth of the cave; being weary she did not care to show herself for three days, at the end of whi"h time she sallied forth to find a few who wanted their fortunes told and get a supply of eatables and some tobacco. She found the villagers, though anxious to hear their fortunes told, so afraid of her that they would frequently run out of the house if she would enter, if they had not time to lock their door before she came in, but when they once stopped long enough to hear her talk on some of her philosophy of human kindness, ever after they would cling to her as a helpless child to its mother. The unexplained and unexplainable things In nature have given to the human imagination and fear various Ideas and Impressions that have, after ages, woven themselves Into a system of mythology that I might call the etherial sea between ghosts and men. Across tills sea come and go the ships of superstition. They sail out Into the unknown and sail back from the unknown, ever carrying a cargo of darkness and wonder. This enrgo consists of strange echoes, mysterious sounds, the fall of a leaf, the hooting of an owl. the coll of a serpent, the howl of a watrh-dog, the death of grass about the grave. The believers rtf any of the mythologies must essentially be fatalists. Superstition and fatalism must ever go together. When we speak of superstition we embrace the whole world, yet no one confesses that he is superstitious; everyone is, and It is all of a kind, differing only In degree. The con jury of spirit communication has drifted throueh all ages from the dark doings of the priests of Isis; the necromancy of the Chaldean Jews, the mystified cunning of the Jesuits, the monomania of the Shakers, the wierd Incantations of the dcrvishers. the wild ravings of an Indian "ghost dance." and. finally, winds up In a dark "cabinet" for 25 cents admission. Was always and is still prompted by either deceit, superstition or insanity. I have the honor of the personal acquaintance of an attorney who has served upon the bench with marked distinction. II is a man of fine education, strictest Integrity and superior Intellect. He is a pronounced Infidel. He cannot believe in the revelation of the bible. His reason, he says, will not let him believe that spirits talked long ago and the dead were resurrected, and yet at a dark circle seance he will see through the dimly lighted room a hand appear above the Inclosed booth of the operator and disappear as quickly. He firmly believes th-it that is his mother's hand, and any distorted countenance that Is made to appear of disappear from behind the curtain he believes to be his dead mother's face. He seems satisfied to believe this without any Investigation or without searching the cabinet. When trying his case in court he is most particular to weigh and balance all evid'-n'-e. When It comes to his particular whim he senvi quite afraid somebody will expose the trick and show him his error. In espousing any cause or belief humanity seems to be anxious to defend it and the more absurd they find it, the more vehement the defense. This is especially true In religion and politics. Through these open avenues, superstition and ignorance, Wendeck always easily passed to the confidence of the household, but when there, never failed to leave a good lesson behind and point a moral. While she ued credulity as a lever, she endeavored to raise her hearers above superstition, especially above the selfishness of supposed providential acts. Almost the first one to ask her nld and have his fortune told was Carl

Brandon, whom she feared quite as much as he held her in awe. The fortune Wendeck gave him was not entirely to his liUng. The Fortune. "To be solemnly impressed with the fact that no joy comes to a creature except as a reward for some good act or noble Intention, that there was no peace only as pure, elevated conscience Justifies the course of life. That advancement in moral and intellectual improvements was the only possible course by which the days of his life could become pleasant, and this course can only be tound in denying the cruel and selfish demands of an unrefined and animal nature, that finally pollutes and debases all, and makes life wretched Just to the extent it has been misguided; that a simple change of belief after a life of sin ha3 no effect beyond the imagination of the .believer. That the life of perfection, the Xervana of Buddha, the paradise of the Galillean, the Idealism of theosophy, is only attained by a careful, persistent, tireless, patient effort, urged on by a ceaseless love of the good and pure and holy; by an insatiate and unquenchable desire to make every creature happy to the fullest extent of its capabilities of enjoyment, and anything and everything that in the least would wrong or injure another throws' the creature from the path of progress that he only regains by righting the wrongs. That so-called forgiveness, as it is usually understood, with the various rights of the benighted that generally accompany It, is but the delusion of a misguided conscience, or the cunning trick of priest-craft, used as a means of finding the gold of the pocket through the silt of the heart. This road of perfection is not narow and thorny as we might think. It Is so broad all the world could, with clasped hands, walk side by side in It, and there would be room for all the rest in the worlds.

To follow this road is to go upward and onward to the Divine Center, to the immortality and realization of Divine Idealism. "As each fruit and vegetable can only be produced in perfection In certain atmosphere and certain soil, under other circumstances being less perfect, so it Is with the blossoms of human love and the fruit of human kindness. They only grow full, luxuriant and perfect when in the proper soil and atmosphere. It often requires much care and attention to . select this and then to cultivate them, but the reward is a harvest of sheaves for the garners of God. Our misery, our anguish and our suffering all comes as a reward for our labor for them. Kvery crime is just as natural a result of the outgrowth of the moral surroundings of life as an ear of corn is from the grain and cultivation. The evils of a parent may appear so strongly in the child that his power to resist may be less than the taint of his blood." Finishing this exhortation in the form of a "fortune" to Carl Brandon, the fortune-teller arose, towered above him as he sat before her, and said: "Cursed, twice cursed, thrice cursed, and damned is he whose life is so evil that his offspring is corrupt from birth, or he who would blot the spotless page of another life where a soul's history is to be written." Finishing, she pocketed the small fee and returned to the cave, leaving Call Brandon in a state of mind that was but little short of exasperation. had been accused, condemned and executed without a hearing, and yet felt in his soul it was not unjust. Though he wished to be better, his coarser nature had been fed and tampered with so long, like a powerful vulture or hyena, it would kill and devour every little dove hatched in the struggling attempt of a heart to regain its purity. (Continued Next Week.) Hin Idea of Art. Over in the art palace a man and three women were studying the paintings in the United States collection. They were devoting their time to that part evidently with a sort of homesick d?sire to see something familiar. It is a peculiar fact that visitors to the exposition who are little accustomed to being away from home invariably first look for something that will remind them of what they left only a few hours before. Complete change of scene makes time and distance seem so great. These people had an absent, far from home look in their faces, manners and clothing. The women appeared always to be of one fancy as they looked and would all stop together to look at a picture. The rran would keep saying: "Come on, come on that's no good." And then he would walk on. Finally one of the women said: "Now, see here, Seth, you Just leave us alone and do your own lookin'. We know what we want to see a heap better'n you do." "Waal." he said. "I know how to look at picters, and you don't. I found out that when I've been one of the judges at our different county fairs. There was one rule we allers went by. When a plcter tells its own story, It's good. When you have to look in a book to find out what It Is, it's no good. And you've been looking In that ere book to find out what all o' them picters are. Now you Just come on and look at the picters that tell their own story, and you won't waste any time." "I don't know but you're right, Seth," said the woman. And the quartet started down the room looking for stories from the canvases. My first impiise was to laugh, but the smile was drowned in a moisture somewhere near my eyes. The homely speech was full of the pathos of ignorance. What artist is there that would not be happy to know that his brush and soul thoughts had told the story without the "book?" Chicago Inter-Ocean. The sonar of the Horse. Hurrah, for electricity, that spares my tired feet. And whirls with fleet lubricity the cars along the street: What wonderful complicity of fate and human brnin Has wrought this great felicity, this rest from toll and pain? Ere long, that grim monstrosity, the horse car, but in song Will live, nor animosity provoke in waiting throng: No more will domesticity be marred by guests deliyed For, with swift electricity, there'll be no car blockade. Then, whoop for electricity! The era's drawing nih That equine infelicity will heave a cosmic sigh Of Joy. for man's ferocity Electra's flank may goad And she. In reciprocity, will "yank" him o'er the road. With all my lungs' capacity I'll neigh my Joy equine. For verbal perspicacity is hardly in my line. Then Rive the news publicity; the marvel's come to pass; Whoop-la for electricity! The horse may may go to grs. EMILE PICKHAUDT. Islington, Mass. Floral Fly-Trap. "Come ln3lde a minute," said a Fourthave. dealer In pianos yesterday afternoon. "I have discovered the greatest lly-trap on earth, and I want to show it to you." He led the way to an Instrument at the rear of the store, on which was a newspaper. On the paper had been placed a bunch of sweet j-as. At least 1,000 dead Ties were lying on the paper In the immediate vicinity or In the bunch of flowers. "I threw these here by chance," he continued, "and in about ten minutes I happened to notice that every fly that alighted on the flowers died in a very short time." Even as he spoke a number of the Insects which had stopped to suck the deadly sweet had toppled over dead. They alighted with their usual buzz, stopped momentarily, quivered In their legs, flapped their wings weakly several times and then gave up the ghost. Louisville Courier-Journal. The action of Carter's Little Liver Pills is pleasant, mild and natural. They gently tlmulate the liver and regulate the bowels, but do not purge.

WOMAN AND HER HOME.

DUTIES WHICH OCCIPY WIFE, MOTIICIl AND HOlSEKECPEn. Care of the Wardrobe Family Cooperation Dainty Work fur Feminine Hand Cheerf nlnen at the Breakfast Table Making Coward of Children. A. girl who perhaps has had perfect freedom and Immunity from all care becomes, as soon as married, her husband's companion. She must !v fresh and attractive in appearance and feeling to greet him when he comes home in the evening. She must have topics of interest on which to converse and make herself charming to him after his day's toil, or be ready to go out with him to the theater, lecture, card party or entertainment, as the case may b?, or to make the evening agreeable to him at his home If he is domestic in his taste. If she does not do this constantly and persistently, the average man will, after the novelty of the new life has worn off, betake himself to the club, or if he is lacking in principle he may drift away altogether and find other company which is more agreeable to him. Where there is a strong mutual affection and the man has a fine sense of honor, chivalry and high principle he will of course feel that obligations are mutual, and he will find for himself and make for her and with her interests that will be harmonious. When to this happy condition are applied ample or very comfortable means, the woman's work in the home is greatly lightened. But take the case of the mistress of a family in moderate circumstances with three or four children. The house must receive enough attention from its mistress each day to keep all in good running order, even supposing that two servants do the actual work of the household. Meals are to be ordered three times each day, with provision for the requirements and idiosyncrasies of each individual from paterfamilias down to the last comer in the establishment. Now, this may seem a mere trifle to the lookeron, who at the vvell-ajppolnted table see the daily bill of fare, but let any such lookeron try it for days, weeks, months, years, season after season, and he or she, whoever it may be, will think that the position of caterer alone to a family of ordinary size is no sinecure. Then the difficulties with the servants and their management, the settling of thir diiliculties with each other, the task of instructing them in their duties, the frequent directions which must be given to the details of cooking by ordinary housekeepers, is something which few of the other sex understand. Those who are able to pay very high prices for fine cooks may be exempt from ordinary" trials, but the average housekeeper knows that she must often supplement h-r own knowledge and experience with remarks like these: "The bree.d this week is not baked slowly enough or long enough." "The soup is too weak," etc., to keep up the cooking to the standard requisite for the health and satisfaction of the family. Then the care of the house, the weekly cleaning, the constant supervision of cellar, closets and drains form with the catering a department in itself sufficient for the entire occupation of one woman, and the health and comfort of the whole household are dependent on the fidelity and intelligence which direct it. Yet the mother's responsibility and care have only their beginning here. The needs of the children from Infancy to adult life in health and sickness, their training physical, intellectual and moral here is another department that demands for its fulfillment the vitality and the best powers of the mother in the home. The oversight of the clothing of young and changing forms is a care that is sufficient for one head and pair of hands, even when the people are sensible enough to pay little court to Dame Fashion. Most of all In the home Is the companionship of the wife and mother to husband and children, for which she needs time for her own rational physical requirements of air, rest and refreshment, time to keep up her reading, her interset in books, pictures and music, that she may never become a household drudge, a mere minister to temporal needs, but that she may be the beloved friend and counselor. Anna A. Comelin in N. Y. Advertiser. Care of the Wardrobe. The "one dress and wear it" pan, though in some respects a good one, is not by any means the most truly economical. For instance, there is no saving in wearing one's street gown during the hours at home. It is better after the visit or shopping expedition, both for comfort and economy, to exchange the toilet that is dusty for a clean robe. It is scarcely possible to come in from an excursion of any kind In dainty order, so in the interest of her personal charms a woman should get rid of her street costume as soon as may be after she arrives at home. The parment should be thoroughly dusted, shaken, pressed and hung upon a hook in a closet. Occasionally touch the soiled spots with benzine and examine the seams for broken stitches. Never wear a woolen gown in the kitchen. It retains odors and smoke and soon becomes offensive as well as shabby. It is a saving in the end to have fair and Inclement weather costumes straight through. Even a mackintosh is not an adequate protection agaiiift the ravages of storms of rain or snow. Have gowns for "occasions," if it can possibly be managed. It will be money in the pocket to do so. It is the same with shoes. It's a pity to wear the fair weather walking footgear through mud and slush and rain, for a wc-t shoe never is nice again. Its shape is injured and it has lost double weight in wearing quality. It is better to keep a trim, serviceable, plain pilr of shoes on hand for this kind of "spoiling," reserving the better pairs for kinder weather. Even for fair weather it is by far the best economy to h ive several pairs cf shoes at a time, wearing them alternately. When not in use they should be stuffed with soft paper and covered from the dust. It is needless to say that shoos should be carefully looked to as to loose buttons and torn button holes. Hain ruins kid gloves. No matt'what price you pay for them or hsuperior the quality, dampness will make them lose shape and break. This theory of saving also applies to a sufficient number of undergarments for various necessities of wear. It is the same, too, with pocket handkerchiefs, fichus and the small accessaries of the toilet. As for hats, a small shower will make chaos of the smartest confection from a milliner's, and the sensible woman will provide herself with a soft felt derby or close plain bonnet, on which the elements may work their will without sailing either her looks or her serenity. Boston Courier. Family Co-Oncrntlon. A lady returned from a long and pleasmt visit wrote to one of her en- ' tertalmers: "Each of you singly has I some special charm. United you are ir resistible." Another lady returning from a visit to another family remarked to an intimate friend, who knew all the members and circumstances of the latter family: "Each one of the Blanks taken I separately has good and even charming j qualities, but taken together they are ; dreadful! I shall never visit there ; arain." ' The difference between the two faml.llies lay in the fact that whereas the

members of the first all worked unitedly to make their guest's visit a pleasant one, those of the other worked for the same end conflictingly. In the first family (we will call them the Harmonies for convenience) there were nine Individuals of three generations, comprising a grandmother, her widowed daughter, with her son about sixteen yars old and daughter of fourteen; a bachelor son of the old lady, and a married daughter with her young child and husband, and the last mentionod's niece, a young lady of about eighteen years. Here one might Imagine were some of the elements of discord ready to hand. A mother-in-law, a son-in-law, a sister-in-law, a brother-in-law, cousins, an uncle, aunts, and aunts and cousins by courtesy only! Less diverse elements than these have been found troublesome in other cases. But this family very early found out that harmony was by no means monotony. If a false note were at any time struck, all were by common though tacit consent agreed that it should not be struck again. Each member of this household knew the best points of all the others, and all were united in their efforts to bring out the best and ignore the rest as far as possible, and it is astonishing how far this is possible when the effort is made. Harper's Bazar.

Dainty Work for Feminine Hands. On N. State-st. there is a bright and happy young woman who has made a success of herself as an assistant to a fashionable house decorator. She thinks the employment a capital one for girls and wonders why more of them are not to be found unrolling wall papers and coaxing undecided clients to let her suggest schemes of coloring for their rooms. She says she began as a bookkeeper, but was advanced as soon as her employer found that not only she could as well as any man persuade the customers who did r.ot know their own minds to take precisely those goods which the establishment wished t- get rid of, but also had an eye for and patience to find Just the thirß more determined people had in mind. It is a pity some other Chicago girl is not doing the taking little pastel dinner cards which are brought to this town from Thiladeiphla. A certain artistic maiden there found that her graceful and apparently careless sketches of children's heads or flowers or butterflies had caught the fashionable fancy, and her hands are full doing orders for this and other dinner giving towns. Ar.d there is Miss Mary D. Bates, the now famous "illustrative designer" whom the California commissioners asked to present to them her idea of th? illustrative work that would best represent their state at the world's fair. She began her now important business as a designer of decorations with a stock in trade, as she herself put it, of "a pair cf scissors and a reel T.f wire." Now she has seven young women to assist her in making houses gorgeous with flowers and drapery for weddings and balls. She lends money to other women to enable them to raise the sorts of flowers she most needs and In many other ways finds the power of helping less happy sisters, which is the brightest reward successful women know. Chicago Tribune. Cheerftilnefts at the Breakfnnt Table. The breakfast table mood is an almost certain Index of the day. From it we gather the courage and patience that are to help us through coming tasks and trials, or we there begin the fretfulness and irritation that will make difficulties still harder and perplexities still more trying. There are misguided people who choose this hour as the proper season in which to recount all their woes. The restless night is described and bemoaned: every ache and pain is set forth with all the minuteness of a diagnosis. The paper is read, and. the battles, murders and sudden deaths therein recorded are served up with the toast and coffee. The boy who rises in an 111 temper Is permitted to vent it in complaints of the food set before him, nothing of which suits him. no matter how dainty or appetizlrg it may be. His sister indulges in like nauhgtiness, and reproof and reprimand embitter the morning which Is scarcely begun. Everything In this life is. to a greater or less degree, habit. Dwelling- and dilating upon one's Infirmities, reading and relating horrors and casualties, complaining, fretting all these are habits, and habits only. Parents can insist upon courtesy and self-control and can exact It. and by setting a worthy example can see in their children the reflection of their own moods. Many a life, many a fortune, has been wrecked by a wrong start the breakfast table mood. Chicago Inter Ocean. Making Covrards of Children. Teople are very prone to say, "What a little coward that child is!" forgetting entirely that it is such as they who have made the little one what it is. No baby is born afraid of the dark, the big policeman or any of the one hundred and one bugaboos that nurses and parents conjure up to terrorize the small wrongdoers, but it is mad? cowardly by the frightful fictions concocted for its benefit. Tell a child the truth about everything always, no matter how trivial or unimportant it may be. and it will soon come to have perfect confidence in everything you say. A little one declines to go into a dark room to bring out its doll that was left there because some one has told it of a great bogie man that lurks in the dark apartments, ready to spring upon little children. Suppose we were strangers in a strange land and one of th' inhabitants told us of some fiend that lay in hiding in the nearby forest, wouldn't we believe them, Jind wouldn't we be very apt to shun the abiding place of so formidable a borie? It is the pa:ne way with children. They are strangers in a new and untried land, and rely implicitly on the statements of those who have greater knowledge of this large and wonderful world. Therefore, nurses should be trained to tell the truth regarding the most unimportant happenings and affairs. Philadelphia Times. fllrl of Thirty. The postponing of marriage and the broader education of women has brought into existence a class that did not formerly exist namely, the class of "girls" between eighteen and thirty. They are bright, educated, capable women, who are awaiting marriage, and instead of being given an interest in life and provided with something to do, they are launched into society with the idea that the proper thing for them to do Is to abandon themselves to the pursuit of pleasure. One result of this is that we have women after marriage taking very unkindly to the necessary slowness of domestic duties. They live for thrills, sensations and excitements. As these cannot be obtained at home they resort to expedients which eventually prove fatal to the res.1 and noble idea of marriage. The upper class girl is becoming a lamentably self-Indulging creature, who spends the very prime of her life in an incessant round of amusement. The great leisure class of cultivated women cannot be held guiltless If it evade Individual responsibility and squander the henelts of birth and education on Its own amusement. Exchange. Southern Home lannerM. There is a certain softness and -sweetness in southern manners that appeal very strongly to less demonstrative northerners. Perhaps no southern custom is prettier than that of having the children of a household tall a friend of the family or a favorite visitor aunt, uncle or cousin, as the case may be. Doubtless the custom had its origin in the numberless genuine rel itlonsh'ps of southern life, which led people to feel that there was a certain coldness In addressing a guest by a formal title when everybody else present was aidressd famillarU or affectionately. N. Y. Sun.

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MINUTE REfiiEOY. On 7 rqu re minuiei, not boar, to reiir pri and care cut dtaeaMt. PAD WAY'S "t READY RELIEF. The Checoest and Best Medicine For Family Use in the World. In from on to twenty xn)nut, never fil to rel'r PAIN w.th one thorough fcppl ca. on. o matter hoar rio nt or irrj:;l,m ih piln. the Dramatic. B !- Tidde , Infirm, r pple i, Nervous Neural -.e ur fro tr.aeJ w d.a-may u,:cr, kADWaV'S ULaDV RÄLiLK aSord instant ease. Inflammation of the Kfdneya, Inflan mntlon of the madder. Inflammation of the Iloweli, Congestion of ttie Lnnga, Sore Throat. Dltftralt Hreatlilng, rnlpttntlnn of the Heart, liaterica. Croup, Diphtheria, Ca tarrli. Influenza, Headache, Toothache, Neuralgia, Rheuinallam, Cold Chili, Ague Chills, Chllblalnes, Frost Riles, ilrulae, Xrrvouanes, Sleeplraaneaa, Co u Ii a. Colda, Sprain a, IValiis In the Cheat, Hack or Liiubi, are lnatantlT' relieved. In Ita Vnrloni Forma. FEVEt ASI) AOCE enred for 61 cent. Thera ta not a remedial ag at in tb world that wiil eare FeTer and Ague and ...her Maiar.oas. Bilion Scarlet and oiber fevers ' a fled br UAi'vVAY'S PILL?; ao quickly aa H ivLAUY RELIEF. BOWEL COMPLAINTS. It wi!l In a momenta when taken according to d reet on, cure (.ramps. .')mi Soar ilomeh, Heartburn, hc HeJ.'he, I.arrhea. .' yacnterr. Cholera Morbai. Colic, Wind n the Bowe aid ail internal paina. CHOLERA. The KE'DY B I.1EF in a;root a ipaciSo ta thta terr.b!e epidemic; If used in time w:h save ncany every cm. Trave era fhouid a way carry a bott e of Hadway't Heady el:e wita them. A lew drops a atr will prevent aickneis or palna 'rora chnn ; of wf r. It is better than Trench brandy or b. iters as a stimulant. Miners and lumberman shonld aiwaye be provided w.th is. CAUTION. All remedial atents capable of destroy life by a overdose should be avoide-t. Morphias, opium, stryrhn n. arnica, hjoe emus and other powerful remed es do, at certain times, ir. verysma I doses, relieve the patient dur d their act'.on In the system. Hut perb,n the second dose. If repeated, may aa-irra-vaia ani increase the suBering and an.-taer .lone caue d ath ! here s no neceasity for ninjf tbese uncertain agents whan a pos ttva rerae !y ilk Padway's Itrady elief will s op the niot excrutiat nj pain quicker, without entailing the least d.fflculty la either in'.ant or adult. THE TRUE RELIEF. nADWtrS VEADY KELI -Fiathe on!y remedial agent in vogue that w.ll instantly stop pain. FIFTY CBNTS PER BOTTLE. SOLD BY DRUGGISTS. Bb Supb to Ret "Railway's." Sarsaparillian Resolvent. The Great Blood Purifier. Pure, blood makes ouad ßesh, strong bona and s clear skin. If yon wou 4 tave your flesh firm, your bones sound, w.ifioot caries, aud your eomplsxioa lair, uae KADWAk'd BAHSAl'Alill.i.lAN hbbUbVuST. We extract from rr. Radway'e "Treatise oa Disease) aad its Cure," as :ollows: UST OF DISEASES CURED BY DR. RADWAY'5 SARSAPARILLIAN RESOLVENT. Chroc'c skin d;eaeea. caries of ths bone, humors la the jlood, scro.ul usdleeasei. lever, sores, chroaic or o.d nlctts, sail i t.-uia. rU-aets, wh U swrlling. sca.d head, canter, fudu.ar sw.l.injs, node, wa.t.ng ana decay o thi OoJy. pimpies and b.ou.he. tumors dypep.ia, kidney and o.alder d aca es. curoaie iheuuiat sm and nout, consumption, ravci and ca cu!U depo-i s. and var.el.es o the atova complaints, to heil sometimes are ven KecSo name. In cases wner thu artni lias been eaiivoied. and , mercury has accumulated aud oecoase depfsiied m the tnes. jo.nis. etc, caua.ng ca i. s o. the bones, r.cketi, spinal curvatures. contortioK, wh.te se ! l(, var.coae ve na. e.c , tha iarapa.r.l.a wi.l resolve away those Oepos.ts and exteimiual the virus 01 toe disease Iron :be system. A Great Conatltutlonal Remedy. 8kln D.seses, Tumors, t icers and Boras or all kinds, particu.a-ly t-h.onio I'iseav a ot tne skin, are cur. d vutu reat ceru nty by a course of auwsy Sar.a;.ar. :..n e mean obalinate cases that have res sted ait oihr treatment. SCROFULA, Whether transmitted irom parents, or ae-jnlrei. ts w.tu.n the curat.ve rano o. tho tarsapar.ti.an iio'iipo"iM the same wonderful power in curio the wor.l .or.us ol strumous and eiupt.ve diecuar es, puh.o J u.cen, ores o th ey-, eare. nose, luouth, li.ri.at, g anas, exierm.nal.n? the v.ru o. these curoa.c u.ms o diaea.e iraia tue olood, bones, jo me aud .n everv p .rt of Iba human bouy where there ex.ata ai-cased depos t-. ulceration, tumors, hard lumps ir sc.o.u.ous inflanimal on, thi real aud powrr ui remedy w il exltrminate rapid.y and permanently . . . . . t ne oott.c conta.ns more of the active principles 1 med.c ne than auy oiher preparat.on taen m tear spoon. ul doses, whue others requ.re five or aix Hum ay si m UP fa. ONE DOLXAU PEX BOTTLE. SO D kit DrtUCCISTS. The Great Lifer aiä Storni Remsäy Purely vegetable, mild and re. able. Caue per'eot dig- stio'n, csmplete absnrtiou and hea .hful regularity. or the cure o. all disorders o tho Stomaon, Liver. Bowels, Kidney, I ladder, Vervous DteeeaeeLoss of Appetite. Sick Headache. Indigestion. Dizzy Feelings. Biliousness. Constipation. Dyspepsia. Observe the following symptoms resn'tfnr frn dresses o" the digest' ve orgn: Const: panon. inward pi es, u.iDis o blood n mo Ue..d, acidity of the sto. nach nnui"a. h-arlburn, d sgunt o.' ool, fullness or weight 01 the stomach, snnr oruct-tion. s n. inir or flj tr,us ol the heart, cu. Ling ur sudocat nt sensations wh-n in a lyins pout u re liinti of v aion. dot or weüe before th sight, u ver and dull pan tn th' has t, deficiency o pares rt ion, ye' ownees o the kin and eye, pain in tae side, chet. limbs and sudden flushes o heat bnrn nt in the ÜehA !ew doeeset HADWY'S t 1 1 i n will free the system o H tbe above-named 1iord-r. Pr es i- cents per hx. -oi by drn(rits. Send a leaer st 'tup to i iR. A I A CO., U Warren su. .ew York a Information worth thousands will be ' ent to von. TO Til . PU nl.lC-He sure an ask for RAO WAV'S, and are that the nam. ".UDffAT" ts s what you buy.

M PILLS,