Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 29, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 18 January 1873 — Page 2

JUST ONE DEFqCT.^ A fABLKrrBY JOHN G. SAX*.

Whs buyJ ebony, bpwevertlnf 1q archlt«bteraVjflt«»*U/

|. t-

Aad ho wSO*verj^stune g»nd: I_w,

8S^kSl^Su^e

Boi^b^Sf&neatli ttte Perstansun, Who thought to bay a mansion wbere A foul-motttbed broker praised tbeair And all things else. wlth eager volM

Yoa could not make abetter cn»ice. The fellow bawled. "Now. look:ye here! I've Hved next dSor this twenty year, And know the house fairly worth Ten tim« the price I There* not on earth jJL

flnfer building! Joat

,n®P®J*f

•jlie place, and mention one defect 1 "'•41 univ iniif.n Mfcid U|6 ntii» XW9 B^'e "fnd£d! what may it be?"

The house 1 should not reckon dear, I think—// your* were tut to near

[Prom the Galaxy.]

iOne

bf My 'By-Gones.'

After striving all day with the total ^depravity of chairs swu tables and bedIsteads wnlch refused on any terms to look hotae-like In anew home, it was comfort untold to rash out into th© 'avenue, iu th© dusk, and take sweet 'oounsel with myself, or, as quaint old -HJERBERT expresses it— to tumble up and down my chest,

And see what my soul doth wear." It was the avenue which made me -take the house nobody's avenue in ®particular, yet it seemed to belong to -each one of the small group of cottage to which it led from tho high road. It had existed as a sort of lane before the cottages were thought of, and great treosnud bad time to grow up in a leis urely way and meet overhead.

A long gate closed it in at night from the snare* of the outer world, and gave greater sense of security to the lonely spinsters and timid widows who lived in tho cottages.

On this night a thick mist enfolded the trees and me a" with a sombre garment, and the remark of one of our old neighbors when

Bbe

heard our destina

tion came back to me like a bird of illomen: '-Going to Dovecotes! Then you will live and die an o!d maid. No

one over goes there but the doctor to make them sick and the lawyer to write their wills. It is too far from the village to walk, and too near to make it worth while to ride."

She evidently spake not without knowledge, and I keenly felt the little line point that was wrapped up in it. It had a fearful sound to be an old maid all my iys. for old maids de live immensely long lives, having neither great-Joys nor great sorrows to wear out their bodies. It almost seems that, with a little more effort, they might live forover. I was twenty-two years old, and no love-passages had ever been mine. If one must be an old maid, it would be some consolation to havo 'ft few old letters and a bunch of dried flowers tor turn over on Winter evenings. It was an old, familiar track in my mind my thoughts traveled it often.

It was not very late, but the fog made a darkness that might be felt. Suddenly* I heard voices near me, but whether in front or following it was impossible to tell, as I distinguished no tootstops. "I lear we have made a mistake," said a woman's voice, trembling in spite of a bard tone in it. "If you cannot bear with me while we are lovers, what will become of me by-and-by T" "It is only when we are alone that I should ever suspect that we are lovers," rejoined a masculine voice.

You were willing that our engagement should be kept a secret." Y«s, because you besought me so A anxiously but your manner to other men is so utterly—utterly—"

Don't hesitate for a word. I assure you I can endure it. My manner is so—"

Unengaged, I would say, to put it ?i very mildly." Perhaps it Is better that my conditlon should lit my manner."

Perhaps, unless you can change that manner." I could no more do that than the leopard could ohnnge his spots. I have loved you well, but that is no re«son why we should marry, I suppose." "Is it not?"

Oh! none whatever. I hear some v. one coming. Here is the ring that you meant for a fetter. Good night and good byo."

A woman ran by me so closely that $ her skirts brushed mine, and the fog lifting a little at the same time, I saw tho outline of a man take his elbows from the long gate on which he had boen leaning, and stooping down seemed tobe looking for something on the

?he

round. Then he hurried away toward village, and. as Uunyan says of his pilgrim. "Isaw him no more."

I felt llko a person blindfolded, who has been tormented with other people's Recrot^ against his will. I leaned my own arms on the gate until the fog cleared away, and a soft, wavering moonlight fell on tho trees, which seemed to whisper together about the very secrets that I shared with them.

In a crack between post and bar something gleamed in tne moonlight, I picked out a ring, the ring which one had thrown away in her angry haste, and which the other had looked lor in vain. It was a violet formed of small sapphires, with a diamond in the center.

I carried it home And tucked it into the farthest corner of my upper drawer, and for a month I pondered it in my heart. I looked eagerly for all notices under tb© bead df ^*Lost and Found." Vast hordes of dogs seemed to have gone on their travels about that time: muffs and bonds and other small matters were entreated to return, and no questions asked but no on© had lost a ting. I composed with infinite pains at least a dossil advertisements, tfhich Bhould delicately convey to that outline of a man that his ring might be recovered if he desired ik I said not a word to my aunt (with whom I shared the cottage and all other wordly goods) of iny little adventure in the avenue. If she had ever had any nonsense about her, it had entirely worn off before my time. She would have sought for the owner of the ring in the same straightforward and exhaustive way as If It bad boen astray hoe found in our garden. Those two lovers would have beon forced to stand and deliver their names and their secret within a week.

Aunt Hester had brought me up in the same way that she did everything else she never forgot to wind her dock on every seventh day, and ahe never flailed to give megooa measure of home comfort, out it was not pressed down nor running over. I gave her honest liking and respeot without any love, and ahe never missed it. Nevertheless it gavs me a terrible shock when her vigorous life was suddenly arrested by a stroke of paralysis. Our only servant in her fright was helpless as her mistress, but Miss Party, who lived next door, oame in to stay with my patient while Iran through the midnight darknets down the avenue and the long village streot for a doctor. Dr. Gil more WM the name on the first door that

light behind it. At the first pull _.cliell the handle came off in my „-.JL*nd I opened the door and found myself in the offlqgMThe do^tg^lag^ a lounge, sleeping

foqrthrown him: day^work. Ica and filially laid vi •must have 1 feiEflffel thing, for as in a vise and l" before he opl|bed'Wli eyes,

to'with

And what are yoq going roe?" be asked. Ob, you must come to my aunt at Dovecotes this very mottaent," and I began to cry morf heartily than I had

*RSe took me up as easily if

He did all that a doctor could for my aunt, which was little enough. Time and patience were all the prescriptions that he gave to her or me but he came every day, sometimes twice, as he perceived that time was growing short, and patience would soon have its perfect work.

The old story—old SB whan Cain went courting into the land of Nod—is coming, as my reader can see with an

6^I

didn't fall in love with Dr.Gilmore, nor be with me, all at once but there grew to be an inexpressible comfort in the rough sincerity, and the warm hand-clasp with which at every visit be met and stilled my shrinking nerves

In the first week of our acquaintance I confided to him my unwilling listening in the avenue to the love-quarrel of strangers. With his advice and assistance, I sent a carefully-worded advertisement to the village paper. To judge by the pile of answers whioh I received describing every kind of ring that ever wss worn, one would think the earth should be sown as thick with them as was the field of Cannse after the great slaughter of Cartbagenian knights. But not^one of the answers so much as hinted at a violet of sapphires with a diamond centre.

In these lonely days I saw a greit deal of my neighbor, Miss Purdy she was one those rare and blessed souls who interpret liberally the command to love one's neighbor as one's self. She and her niece Kate Purdy lived together, as I lived with Aunt Esther, and a sort of fellow-feeling, from our similar conditions, made us wondrous kind from the first.

Kate was a sparkling brunette, who made love to everybody "male or female, Jew or Gentile, bond or fir©e," it was all one to h©r. I am a very m©ek looking jperson myself, light-haired, blue-eyea, faded out—you almost need a dark background to see at all.

Kate and I looked well together, and stayed together chiefly for that reason at first, afterward for a strong and earnest liking that lasted our life time.

I told her all about the ring, and showed her the answers to my advertisements and when our talk reached low water on other matters, w© always fell back on speculation about those two lovers and the sapphire ring. Kate ws& disposed to treat it more lightly than I could find it in my heart to do. She thought it far too pretty to hide its light in a bureau drawer, and after a time I wore it, thinking that in that way it might be possibly seen and claimed by its owner.

We had become very intimate in girl fashion before I introduced Kat© to "my doctor," as I called him in my heart. They "took kindly^ to each other, but she aid not at once begin to wile the heart out ot him, as I had seen her with all other men.

Why don't you makelov© to Doctor Gilmore I" I asked bar at last. "You are naturally a fisher of men, and the prey is very scarce at Dovecotes."

Firstly, said Kate, "because you already have him In your own net, and unless all signs fail you will soon land him. Secondly, he is too fearfully old and grave. I don't mean that he has Uvea any great number of years, but he is one of those who are born forty years old, and that would make him at present about threescore ane ten."

My world was well-nigh empty of kith and kin when Aunt Esther died but I was not nearly so doleful as ought to have been. I had very little money, but I had youth and hope, and there was—the doctor. Kat© Purdy had been helping ma to set the house in order after the dreadful bustle that follows the vanishing of a familiar lace.

At nightfall she had left me alone for an hour or two it was then, as Kate and I had tacitly supposed, reading it in one another's ©yes, that "my doctor" oame to see me.

I'm afraid you're going to be very lonely here," he said, alter the first greetings were over. "Bat I shall not be here I am going to live with the Purdy's."

Are you quite sure they want you?" They say so." "Doubtless thev feel in that way now, but their hearts are warmed by the sight of your affliction. You had had far better come home to me."

He held out his arms, with a gesture that belied the calmness of his words, but I would not see It.

How can I be sure that you want me?" "Do I not aay it?" '«Yes, and so do the Pordys. It may be that your heart is warmed by my lonsllnesa."

What is the use of fencing, when I love you and you love me Blow do you know that?"

Because you have been so careful not to show even a d©oent regard for me. If you had not loved me, you would hav© been more cordial."

O, wiser again than Solomon!" said I but I saw bis arms put out to me at that moment, and I forgot what o'clock it was until Kate's opening the hall door, made me draw away from "my doctor."

Kate made a lively talk Ifr j|, *tjinutes, but had little respmHp her audience.

M*de

have

You are mi*takwbyuoctor it is I wliobave you," I said laughing. He released my wrists and sat up with eyes very wide epen. .-j,

1 hfl1

been a baby and laid moon th© lounge. "Now lie there perfectly still until my carriage is ready," b© Said, as one having authority. In a few momenta he brouKht me some innocent-looking stuff in a glsss. which I drank without a word, and my nerves grew ftesdv again. I climbed into the little oldfashioned sulky, in which there wss but spare room for its owner—a carriage that must have been invented by some misanthropic doctor who did not mean to drive his own patients. I contracted myself into about the substance of a paper of pins, and held my breath, but that sulky was a very tight fit indeed ...

I wore a thin Summer dress, witn only a straw hat on my head, and as my excitement lessened, the cool, sharp air of the September night pierced m© lik© a knife. .. .....

You are shivering," said the doctor, wrapping one side of bis fcloak about me, and nolding me close to his breast with one arm, while he drove bis horse at furious speed with the other.

I give you a great deal of trouble," I answered into his beard. Not at all. It is all in my days work," he said, gruffly. This was not very gallant, but it made me more comfortable in mind, as it possibly was meant to do.

issues

sbe hMr 1 niched1 the ptay/iiwto

cT 'w¥ have passed it," said tb© doctor. And Esther is going to marry you?"

You have said it." Then I wish you ioy with all my heart. By the way, aid you bring the engagement mngwith y#u?'J

Ofeoijrse not." '2 Vou need not look so irate. Some men are so oertain of their happiness that they buy the ring beforehand. Why don't you use this one that came to Bather out of the gate-post?" said Kate, drawing from her finger the sapphire ring, which she often wore. ««n would be a bad omen," I Bald, shrinking away from it and suppose some one should claim it. titer all "I did not think of thst, but you could have another made like it. Nothing could be prettier for an engagement ring."

It Doctor Gilmore, likes it, I am sure I have no objection," I said at last, for there was a tinge of romance in giving the ring a happy ending after being spnrned by the first owner.

Dr. Gilmore did like, and put it on my finger before Kate went off with some good advice about not sitting up late, which met the fate of most good advice. I crept into her bed in the "we sma' hours syont the twal," and she woke instantly.

This is a good example to set before a young andlnnocent maiden," she remarked. "Oh Kate," I said in the usual gushing fashion, "lam so hsppy I can't believe it."

Oh, well, I can. Nobody comes to bed this time of night unless something awful has happened."

I wonder ne didn't fall in love with you Kate." So do I, but some men have no taste, you know. They are to be pittied, not blamed. Besides, as I have Said before, he is too aged for me. He'll be a centurion when you are in your prime."

Kate refused to talk all night, as I would gladly have had her, and I did catch an hour or two of sleep, full of happy dreams.

I was nearly alone in the world, and there was no earthly reason for delaying the marriage except for wedding garments.

Dovecotes was wonderfully healthy at this time, but the Doctor's carriage —he had discarded the old narrow sulky, and replaced it with a buggymight be seen going at full speed along the avenue often enough for a patient at the point of death.

We were married and went into the village to live in the very house in whicn I had first taken possession of as owner.

That former neighbor who had seen me an old maid, in her prophetic soul said, "So you took the doctor after all."

If this were an ordinary and well conducted story it ought to end here but being a true history, my life did not at once come to an end, like that of most heroines, with marriage.

I bad been Mrs. Gilmore nearly ten years, and had led a very downy life of it. My love, which had ran so smooth from the beginning, kept up the same habit.

I mentally carried an umbrella all those years, but it never rained anything but good fortune.

Three little Gilmores made my life a happy burden, and my old friend Kate Purdy came constantly to the house to help me bring them up. Kate was nearly 40 years old when her fate was oarried into her aunt's house with a sprained ankle, and come out of it her accepted lover.

Many men] had fallen in love with Kate in these years, but they had been without form of comeliness in her eyes. The mild, colorless man whom she loved at last with all her tender heart carried her away from Dovecotes, and I did not see her again till she brought with her the transcendent first babv which was to cast into the shade all Gilmore babies, past, present, and to come.

One foggy twilight when onr tyrants were laid for the night, we walked toward Dovecotes. The long gate opening on the avenue was shut, and we all leaned on*it to rest a moment before turning homeward. "By the way," said I, "it is just like the night when I found this ring. I wonder if the lovers ever made up their quarrel, and married after all "I am quite sure they never married," said Kats's husband, gravely."

What do you mean I gasped. Tell her all about it," said Kate to Dr. Gilmore. "We are all happy now.', She kissed me twice with along look into my frightened face, and walked away with her husband.

What is it I said with great effort, so dry was my throat. It was Kate Purdy and I who qualreled at the gate and lost the ring. That Is all," said the doctor.

All I" I repeated. "Little wife, have we not been happy together?" ,,,,

I«have supposed so." j' And I have known it."5^But the long deceit—"» t'. On my word, there has been none. After you introduced mo to Kate I never spoke a word to her that you did not see. She fascinated me once but I really never loved her."

I believe men often make this sort of remark to their wives touching their yoathful follies but it comforted me, nevertheless, as it had comforted many another wife. I had always worn the sap hire ring, the sign of our betrothal, and as we talked I had been slipping it up and down my finger.

As we turned to leave the gate, I saw a deep crack in the ground where the frost nad loosened tne post in an instant I had dropped the ring into the crack and went on, with one braise less on my spririU

On the way home we taked of the universal preference for moonlight over fog, and found Kate waiting alone on the door-step. "I will not darken your doors again," ahe said, "until you aay that you foigive me." "Yes," said the doctor, "she will let by-gones be by-gonee," and Kate took that for her answer. "You wiH find your ring where you left It," I whispered to Kate as I left her for the night.

When I was taking out hair pins, under the gas light, I saw the doctor look curiously at my forefinger. "Yea,'11said,**it is gone I found the owner, you know."

He made me no reply, but he drew from under the dressing table the little leather covered box that held all his

Eonse

rivate papers, the only thing in the of which I did not possess the key. He took oat a little case, and uncovered a pearl ring, an exquisite solitaire. "I bought this ring for you," be said, "on the day after you accepted me, feeling sure that you would some day throw away the other."

"I put on the ring and christened it with ltisses and tears. I could no! long Ve angry with my doctor. I l°ffjd him

ofiwiao -WJOT.

The Spiritualists Rav* a Message From, theXate Philosopher.

The following 'spirit message,' purporting to oome from Horaoe Greeley 'through the medinmqhij) ot Mrs. J. H. Conant,^ jpptajnp lqutbe Banner of Light.

It isn't done it Is Just begun! [I am happy to have you reach us so soon after your departure.] I am happy to oome so soon: I've never departed. [Haveyou not?] Oh, no only from the body that 1 had used tooronghly. I am here to-day to thank my friends ter their kind efforts in my behalf in many directions. I am here also to say to those who have faith in these things —and some of my friends have and, it they please, can make powerful use ot what I am about to give—that I|desire that my last will, msde when I wss not strictly sane, should be rendered null and void, and that a former one, made in '71, should be the will—my last will made as a sane man, in which justice, I think, expresses itself. We need to be very thankful that there is a way provided for the free specch of the dead, whUe, at the same time, we regret that there is so much ignorance concerning this philosophy. My wife understood it, and believed in it. I did not, although I never opposed it. 8ome of my spiritually inclinea-friends have suggested to me this idea: That I return, doing what I may be able to influence my children in religious matters. I decline to do it. They are in a better position in these matters than these same friends are, for they are living the spirit of their religion, while these friends are only living in the letter of theirs, snd hardly that. I am sorry to say it, but I am used to speaking the truth, post mortem or otherwise. [Do you feel satisfied with the course you pursued towards spiritualism, everyway?] Yes because I couldn't do any different from what I did. I was as lenient as I could be under the circumstances, and I was very much like the majority of Christians, who put off their spiritual things till they have a convenient season to attend to them in. I never saw the convenient season to attend to my spiritual matters, so I didn't attend to them and I suppose these same Christains who make their death-bed confessions, and expect they are to sail right into heaven in consequence, do the same thing. Had I worlds to dispose of at the present time, I would give them all for the possession of the knowledge ot these things that you have but—thanks be to God who is wise and good—I am in school, and able to learn, and ready and willing to learn, and will never be satisfied until I have a sufficiency of this light to enable me to know what is necessary for me to do towards earth, and towards those dwelling in the spirit-land, and for myself. Good day. May God and, angels bless you in your noble work as you deserve, and may the fire of Boston prove to be, in your case, the greatest blessing that a loving and infinite God could have conferred upon

you. Dec. 17. HORACE GKBKLKY.

THE EYE.

Some of the Common Dangers "to which it is Subject.

The sculptor Crawford was accustomed all his life to read lying down. To this very largely pbvsicians attribute the loss of his eye. Very soon a cancer formed in the other, which caused his death.

The great historian Prescott lost his eye-sight when a student by a bit of bread thown in sport by a fellow-stu dent at the table. Never be careless in such little matters. A pair of scissors or a fork, thrown in sport or soger, has often caused the loss of an eye, which the wealth of the world cannot re place.

A friend, who was very ambitious to finish a set of linen for her brothers, spent almost a winter in fine stitching, sitting up often late at night over the work, in which she took great delight. The result was the nerve of the eye was so injured that she was obliged wholly to give up sewing, knitting, and reading under penalty of becoming perfectly blind.

A young lady, who lived but ten miles by train from school, used to spend the time in studying a lesson while she was riding down in the morning. The result was a severe affection of the eyes, which disabled her from study for a long time. It is always hurtfnl to the eyes to read in the train though we may not see the bad effects so plainly when it happens only occasionally. A steady practice, like this young lady's, may produce oven worse results when the system is in a bad state.

Nover read by twilight, nor before eating in the morning. The little you gain in t^hat will be doubly lost by failing of the eyesight long before life's sundown.

I know a yonng clergyman who is a remarkably well-read man, but whose eyes area perfect deformity. He said he ruiued them by reading at night, long and'intently, when he was getting his education. He seems to have no control of the lids, which twitch and move in a most grotesque manner. Don't fancy yon can do what you please with your eyes, and yet have them serve yon faithfully. Take as good care of them as you would of gold, for gold can never replace lost eyesight.

STORED MILK.—"Vy, Moshes dear Moses, vot ish de matter mit you? asked sn Israelitish friend of bis brother, whom he found crying piteously in his store in Chatham street.

Ob, don't ax me. I bin such a lool —never I bin such a fool." Veil, can't we do nottings about it Vat is de matter?" "Veil, den, a jackass be comes in and he buys a coat, and I tells him twenty dollars. "Veil, didn't he pay de swenty dolars."

Oh, yes, he pays it, bat dare ish vare I vas sich a fool I didn't sharge him swenty-two. Oh, my, I loas him two tollars, I vas such a fool."

How XT2TSECESSART THK ASOUISH many persons undergo from rheumatism, gout, neuralgia, toothache and

We say unnecessary because

the spplication of Mexican Mustang LJaiment to the affected part, or a few drops of it in the ears or tooth, affords instantaneous, and what is better, permanent relief. For cuts, wounds, bruisea, swellings, and all injuries of fUnossm which require treatment externally. this liniment is everywhere regarded as the most potent ana reliable healing agent in existence. For all external imnries or ailments of horses and cattle, it is infallible.

LAST WORDS.

tamay feeble ut

However. the importance of 6f the ayto necal astwo nto the

nltfe.

Dr/Ad«mna, rector of tfier High ot Edinburgh, was psssing away but as we catch the laat woros of the raving, our own eyes are dimmed. "It grows dark, boys," stretching forth his land "yon msy go." "All my possessions for a moment of time!" moaned Qufeen EtisabfKh. Wesley, calmer, said, ss he died, "I'he best of all, God ia with us." And deaf Beethoven., whose soul bad ever been filled with harmony, exclaimed gladly at the laat, "I shall hear!" "Is your mind at ease?" Goldsmith was ssked by his physicians. "No, it is not," wss the mournful rsply, and he spoke no more. How different the parting words of Dr. William Hunter!

If I bad strength to -hold a pen, I would write how eaay and pleasant a thing it is to die." Or the assuranoe of President Edwards, as his dying grasp loosened on hard forms of dogma. "Trust in God snd yon need not fear."

Byron said wearily, "I must Blsep now," and Goethe, turning to his wife, called for "Light, more light."

Dr. Johnson died in a tumult of uneasiness and dread. Cowper sank to rest as peacefully as a child. "I am taking a tearful leap in the dark," cried Hobbes, the deist, and, "Now, Lord. Lord, receive my soul!" whispered Herbert on his last "sweet day."

Politeness was no longer a ruling passion, but a chrism, when Chesterfield in dying said, "Give Dayrolles a chair," and surely something was forgiven of Charles the Second when he bade farewell to earth's pomp and wickedness in "Don't let poor Nellie starve."

Haller's last words were, feeling his own pulse, "The artery ceases to beat." Petrarch died suddenly and silently in bis library, his hand upon a book, and Sir Isaac Newton was winding his watch when be was ushered into the liie that hath no end.

Talma, the great actor, exclaimed pitifully as he went, "The worst of all is, I cannot see and John Locke murmured, "O the depths of the riohes of the goodness and knowledge of God!" The dying admonition of the learned Grotius to his race was, "Be serious." Scarron, the French wit, said faintly to his weeping friends,

Ah! mes enfans, you cannot cry as much for me as I have made you laugh in my time and Lord Thurlow iu reckless wonder exclaimed,

I'm shot, if I don't believe I'm dying!" When poor Robert Burns gasped with his breath, "Don't let the awkward squad fire ever me!" he did not allude to his commentators and critics, yet what a significance should the words have for them! And how little Anne Boleyn thought, when, await ing the executioner, she clasped her fair throat, that "it is but small, very small," would link her forever to the heart oi Christendom!

Yes, we cannot doabt that many of the most eloquent sermons mankind has ever listened to have fallen from dying lips. Caesar's grieved "And thou, Brutus!" John Quiney Adams'

This is the last of earth Mirabeau's frantic cry for "Music" alter his life of discord, George Washington's "It is well"—do they not grow richer in meaning every day? And is it not still blessed to remember the last moments of Melancthon, the friend of Luther? "Do you want anything?" asked his loved one eagerly, "Nothing but heaven," he answered gently, and went smiling on his way.

HOW THE PRESIDENTRECEIVES COMPANY. A late army officer who lately called to pay bis respects to the President at the White House, gives us the following, ss the manner in which the Executive receives his guests. "When I entered the room he wss sitting at a table smoking, with some fifteen or twenty men and women waiting for an audience. Before him stood a slender and delicately formed young girl, dress ed in deep mourning. Her soul was evidently filled with trouble, for you could read the story of it in her sweet, pale face, and her blue sympathetic eyes, which more than once filled with tears. She was addressing the President in a low soft voice was telling him the story of her affliction, snd asking a favor—perhaps that he would aid her in getting an appointment. She addressed my Preeidentin this manner for some fifteen minutes, during all of which time he never relaxed pufflsg his cigar. Indeed, the smoke ascended directly in her face, and was offensive for she twice turned her head sside and and coughed, once violently. Still my President was insensibls to his own rudeness, and pursued his smoking.

My President did not reoognise me as I entered, and I took a seat on his left and near the window, where I had a good view of the scene.

When the girl was through hsr story there was a pause for a few seconds, during which my feelings had undergone considerable change at the sight of such unneccesssry rudeness. Then niy President relieved his mouth ot the cigar, put it carefully on the table, took npacard and wrote something on it with a pencil, gave It to the yonng weeping girl, who tookbls hand, thanked him, and with what seemed a gladheart. hastened out of the room. All this time my President never showed the slightest emotion. His mind and his heart seemed tobe in his cigsr.

Two elegsntly dressed ladies* one of them leading a bright-faced child by the hand, now approached my President. Being in wsshlngton on a visit, they had merely called to pay their respects to the President, and were evidently well-bred people. My President never rose from his seat. How I did tope he would let his cigar rest on the tsble as they approached him. Not a bit ©fit. That cigar was his great indlspensible. He picked it up, deposited the asbes on the carpet, and resumed his smoking just ss they began addressing him. In short the smoke curled up into their faces and was manifestly offensive to them, for they retired in haste alter saying a very few words. "Ma, ma," said the ohild, as they were psssing down stain, before me, "was that man sitting in the chair smoking his cigar, President yea, my darling that ia the President," replied the mother.

Why, ma," resumed the child, "be smoked right in you face. What did he do it for

Don't know, darling. It looks as if he bad imported the loose hAbits and rode manners of the camp into the Executive Mansion.1'

A great saving in the manufacture of mince piea in New York is secured by substituting cockroaches for raisins. They are very similar to raisins when warmed up, and cost almost nothing.

OLD AOS.

An old person haa feeble efrcuistl in the feet and legs. Nothing cent butea more tojtfjire IHedUSculty breathing, andytl* clfcinto eough a other trouble abba! the liesd anaeh so oommon among pll pefltpl*. keeping the teetaadlsgs warm.

Mr. S., a bank officer, hadbeen sitting in a bank nearly fifty yearn. He came for seme advice about short breath, wheezing and cough. "Your feet and legs sre very cold."

Yea bnt how did you know it "By these troubles about your throat end lungs. There is congestion—too much blood there. If the legs and feel were warm, if. they ha4 their share of the blood, this oongsitlon about the under parts would cease, and thia short breath, wheeling and eough would be relieved atence/' "How shall I make my lege and feet warm I wear aa much clothing abont my lower extremltjee, as I ever did, aud yet they are like icielee*"

I will tell you a secret: An old man with low vitality must have two three or four times aa much dress about the legs and feet as a young man with high vitality. Now, you must put on two psir of thick knit woolen drawers, very thick^tockings, and broad, atrong shoes. Your legs will be wsrm enough psrhsps. If not, then put on a pair of wssh-leather drawers over the knit woolen ones. With thick pantaover these you will probably be warm. In some rare cases even this will not keep the limbs warm, Bnt they must be kept wsrm. So you must add, and ksep adding, till they are warm, litis is the way you do with your body why not the same with your legs? Yon will thereby save your throat lungs and head from many common troubles."—[Dio Lewis.

THE

SATURDAY EYESOG

MAIL,

For the Year 1872-3.

.j •lulu

REGULAR RATES. NJ "SI,5

The SATURDAY EV'EN^O an Independent Weekly Newspaper, win be mailed to subscribers at TWO I)OLLARS a Year: ONE DOLLAR for Six Months, and FIFTY CENTS for Throe Months* and to Clubs at the following rates: Three Copies, One Year J* Five .f g® Ten -i" 15 60 Twenty

With One Copy extra to the getter up of a Club of Ten. or more. Mall and office Subscriptions will, Invariably, be discontinued at expiration or time paid for. v,

CLUBBING WITH OTHBB PERIODICALS. f' We are enabled to offer extraordinary in* duoements in the way of dubbing with other periodicals.. We will tarnish theSATUR* DAY EVENING MAIL, PRICE 12.00 PER VICAR, with any of the periodicals ensmerated below at greatly reduced rates. These periodicals will be sent direct from the offices of publication. Here is the list :fi- fid!

The Mail and Semf«Weekljr N, T.

Tribune, price, 14.00 t4 N

WEEKLY PAPERS.

Mall and the Indlana»ells lonr•I. price 12.00 00 The Mall and the Indlaaapolls Sen13.00 8

tlnet, price The Mail and the XI. I. Tribnne, price 12.00 TheMaUand the Indlannpnlls

News, price tl.50...^. ........... The Mall and the Teled* Blade, The*MaU arid the W. T. WiirIdj price 12.00

PfiOQ

-J- I I-

The Mail and the Claleago Repnbll-

ean, price 11.60 ... The Mail and Appleten's Journal, prloe 14.00 The Mail and the Rnrnl Mew Yorker, price 13.00 ................ The Mail and Hearth and Home,

The M^l and isVerjr fitotnirday, and Harper's price *4.00 The Mall and Harper's Bazar, prloe ft.00,

«j MONTHLIES.

The Mall snd the American AgrU enltnrlst, price tl JO............ 12 The Mall aad Denaores**s Month

ly. price $3,00.1 year.... The Mall and Godey'sLady'sBook, price 88.00 The Mall and the North Western

Farmer, price fl^0........». The Mall and the Little Corporal, T^e^Mall ai^'the'iLlitti^Cihii^^'^liM 75 cent*. The Mall aad the Lltile Bower, price 75 cents. The Mall and Serlbner'a Monthly,

porson who pays us 83.60. DEMOBKST'S MONTHLY stands

The Mail and

mm Pi S

a oi itV

-t

SEMI-WEEKLY.

iiJ

•ft

I ?,«!

'•i!

ili

-i?

800 2 76

800

8W-008

The MaU and the M. T. Snn, price .. 2 OS The Mill and the Prairie Purine*. *m price 12.00......... The Mail and tho Western Rnrnl, price 92.60...~ The Mall and the Cbloago Ad vanee, price 18.00 00 The Mail snd the Cbleage Interior,

801

ih 'i sriSft

8 00 HJi&t fcsi JGI

S79 4

8 nT,

8 76 h&X*

800

fc "4fa I

6 60

6 00 jjj

8 00

t?#

riO'i

8 60

400

ii?s iD

2 60

vldt

8 00

2 26

us0r

2 26'

prlcc, 84.00 The Mall an ly, price 14.00 The Mail and Onr Yonn* rolks, price 12.00. The Mail and Old and Mew, price I*. The Mall and Overland Monthly, price, *4.00 4 50 The Mall and Harper's Ma*aalne, »,/: prloe 84X0 6 00The Mall and Yonng Folka Is* ral 2 80,.

Mall and the Atlantle Month-

4 39: tew tr t*

8 00 4 04

A SPLENDID CHAHCE. We will send The Mall and Demorest's Monthly, which is 83 tor

one year, to any

«nr,v(a,et*nan

as a family magazine. Its choice literal are, its superior music, its large• a"ioant of valoable information and artistic 111astratlons, give It a Jnst claim to its well-earned title,s, «the Model Magazine of America."

OLlTBBIirG WITH COUHTT PAPERS, We have made arrangements to famish the MAn. with the following Newspapers,

published In the neighborhood of Terrep.n«i.r at very low rates. Here Is the list: The MaU and

SiUUvan Union

'llrb

{3 00

RodnOUNewt.....^......^.

3 00

The Mall and Brazil Miner 8 00 The MaU and Bwling GrMn Arehivu.... 8 00 The MaU and

MarthaU Herald

The MaU and

Hootier

8 00

,1r

OS I

Newport JVcmtcript....

The MaU and

8.00

Aurora BoreaUi

8 00

Persons getting np clubs for the MAIL,snd to obtain subscriptions for otlier periodicals on onr list at the same time, will be furnished a list of ths prices at wMchisnob subscriptions caa be taken separately by us, npo* application to this olllee.

AMISS, P. S. WBSTPAbL. Tetre-Haate, Indians.