Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 50, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 14 June 1873 — Page 2

THE TWO VILLAGES.

Over the river, on the bill, Lietb a village white and still,

All

around It the fore»1 trees Shiver and whisper In the breexe, ovpr it sailing shadows go, Of soaring hawk and screaming COT' And mountain grasfes, low and sweet, Grow In the raladle of /fry street. •Over the river, tinder the hill, Another village lieth still _• (m ha MVtl mff

Anotner vmage new

-1

There I see in the cooling night Twinkling stars

of housenold light.

Tires that gleam from the smithy's door, Mists that curl on the river's shore: And in the road no grasses grow, For the wheels that hasten to and fro.

In that village on the hill ever is sound of smithy or mill The houses are thatched with grass and flowers. Never a clock to tell the hours The marble doom are always shnl You may not enter at hall or hut. All the village lie asleep, Never a grain to sew or reap Never in dreams to moan or wlgh— Silent—and Idle—and low—they lie.

In that village under the hill, When the night is stairy and still, Many a weary soul In prayer JLooks to the other village there, And weeping and singing, longs to go "Up to that home from this below Longs to sleep by the forest wild. Whither have vanished wife and child, And hearoth, praying,

V«"II

BLUSH SOT,

Finding his rrmedies unavailing, the physician administered a dose of modicluo which ho afterward said was composed of ether, morphia, laudanum, ami strychnia. Tho girl's father followed the physician from tho room and asked: "What do you think of Susie this morning?" To which ho replied "Tho dose that I have given her will either kill or cure her, and if either of us had taken it we would havo been in hell inside of half an hour." Tho father, trembling with astonished terror, and maddened by tho demon words of murderous quackery, assaulted tho physician and boat biiu severely. In half an hour from the titno tho medicine was administered the girl fell into the abnormal condition which has been the subject of much unsatisfactory study And puzzle to physicians. Her condition is one In which tho phenomena aro so unusual that there is no case on record approaching it, and hor existence has not much of that life which humanity enjoys, for it is

composed

of one dark, unconscious

slumber, interspersed with no visions of fancy, and no dreams of beauty and light, illustrating in its dread gloom what tho Roman meant In believing sleep itself so near akin tho pallida mors.

At sunset each day she awakes frern this dreamless sleep, tho time of re turning consciousness being the same, •eveu to the second, every morn. Tho eSorts BIIO makes seem like one c«ming from death to life, for the waking is accompanied by sevore contortion •of the features, difficulty lu breathing, and a frown Indicating great pain. During her waking momenta her respiration Is regular snd natural, and her voice is soft and very pleasant in its tones. Beginning at sun-up, she nwakesevery hour until twelve o'clock noon, and remains awake only six minutes. Whllo asleep sho breathes but onco in six minutes, tho respiration being accompanied by a violent shaking of tho head, and the inspiration, as it wore, being characterised by a rapid succession or humming sounds, like that ol a cylinder valve, varying in number from cloven to fifteen, by which sho inflates her lungs. When the sounds rcach fifteen each successive effort decreases until reduced to the number eleven, when she awakes suddenly, in tho above-mentioned manner.

During the interval of six minutes between her breathing, not the slightest indication of pulsation can be felt, and the softest down applied to her nose shows no sign ol moisture. There is, however, at all times, asleep or awakt, a nervous twitching of the body, as 1! the nerves and organs were uneasy and restless by tho cruel clasp of strange late. During these cataleptic states nothing will arouse ber or break the dread enchantment of ber unconscious altrep. A week or so ago, while in this condition, she was thrown violently from a wagon, and the fall did not broak her aw Ail slumber, nor was she conscious of the concussion, although severely bruised. Upon awakening at the regular boar, she complained of soreness in the limbs, but did not know the cause or lima of its reception. To show her utter insensibility to every physical impression, she was once Wfore tho St. Louis college of physicians, who used every means, even of a cruel kind, such as pins, fire heat, as well as the various known chemical expedients, to arouse her from this state of chronic amestbe*1*.

But every remedy failed, and she was insensible to every application, afterward when awake complaining

1«

hnM veall»"

Patience! That village shall bold yean

HQS

EST TOILER.

Ob blush not, bonent 'oUerl No cause for shame liast thou, Though horny skin be on thy hands,

And sweat-drops on thy brow Although thy face may be begriinmed With coal-dust or with soil, "JIs a noble mark of usefulness

Then b!u*h not, son of toll.

Oh blush not, honest toller! The time will come ere long, \Y lien right will triumph over might,

And Justice over wronr. Respect thy worth, disgrace it not Uy any action vile ... Tiiilt worth will be acknowledged yet,

Then blush not, son of toll.

(From the Memphis Appeal.]

The Sleeping Girl.

A FULL AND COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE MONT SINGULAR CASE OF MODERN TIMES.

Her Home. Diet, and Habits when Awake —.1 Thorough Diagnosis.

The Sleeping Boauty of West Tennessee" is already of no little notoriety abroad, but the intny publications mado of this strangely affected person are regarded as fictions, and like tho stories of romauc3 founded on the affliction of Botno eccentric individual. As a phenomenal subject, whether pertaining to physical misfortune or an abnormal psychological condition, this sleeping beauty presents a study that perplexes the highest medical skill, and mystilles tho investigations of the most eminent scholars.

MISS SlTSAN OODSKY

Resides in Obion county, West Tennessee, about twolve miles from the Memphis and Louisville Railway, where hur parents have lived for thirty \*ears, moving there from the middle part of this Slate. It will bo twontytour years next July since this peraon was lirst alllicted. When eight years of ago she wus attacked with chills, and a now physician, who had recently como to the neighborhood, was called In to troat hor. He tried several remedies, but failed to restore the child's health—abandoned further treatment of his patient until August 1, 1819.

again at twelve o'clock

very much of soreness. Tbe body retained the rough treatment inflicted by tbe Ksculaplans of the experimental science, but tbe mind knew

was so severely Injured that she could hardly endure the travel necessary to reach home. She wakes only twelve times for five minutes during every twenty-four hours, which is one hour every day. She wakes first at sun up, orGo'clock in the morning, the* every hour until twelve noon. After this she wakes first at three o'clock in tbe evening second at six, then at

Her hair is a dark brown color, and she takes great pride in having it combed and nicely arranged. At one time ber locks were of glossy luxuriance, but camo out last summer in consequence of fever. Though shut out from the beauties, joys, and pleasures of life, she is not exempt from ordinary diseases to which others are liable. She has had the measles and also the whooping cough. Violent as were the unnatural dilations of the glottis, they were not sufficient to disturb her sleep, during which state the coughing was not so violent as when awake. Her usual weight is ninety-five pounds, though recent neuralgic affections havo reduced this fifteen pounds. Her age is 34, but her face looks like that of a maiden of sweet sixteen. During her state of insensibility she lies on her right side, and no effort can change this position. If turned by physical violence to tho left, her muscles immediately rebound her like coiled springs the other.

Instantly upon awaking she turns on hor left side, as if to rest. In consequence of retaining tbe same position so long, her left arm is paralyzed up to the elbow, and is destitute of sensibility, though above this it is sensitive. All of her functions aro regular in their operations as those of a well person. Awakening, she instinctively catches her right wrist with her left hand as she turns on ber back, and rests the right hand on her breast. Since her af fliction her fingers-nails and toe-nails have never grown, and are the same as if petrified in her early girlhood. This peculiarity is all the more strange when it is remembered that her hair has grown as luxuriantly as a healthy person's, and known that she has grown since the fatal poriod of her lifo, being five feet in length. Length, we ly, not height, as she has never been ible to stand since the fatal August.

Her hands are of pearly whitenoss, the right one being clasped because of the paralytic stroke, though it can be opened after severe rubbing, tho friction, as it were, causing a restoration of cin ulation. Her hands are small and well shaped, tho fingers tapering so finely that they seem suited for the wieldingof Phydlan grace itself. Despite the fearful ordeal to which she is subject, her mind seems vigorous, active and perhaps precocious during the brief few moments of her waking state. Owing to the oarly date of her misfortune, she was debarred the advantages of a good education, and is unable to read and write. The girl is singularly good natured, rarely showing any irritability. Her wants are easily supplied, as they aro but few, and in this rcspect sho "wants but little here below, nor wants that little long."

Every feature in her disease is anomalous in character, and its given condition is so strangely distinct, yot every act, thought, desire, sentiment, emotion, sensation, and operation are regulated by natural laws, to the requirements of which they conform with astonishing exactuess. She is, perhaps, tho most remarkable phenomenon ever witnessed, and beforo the mysterious nature of ber afllictions tbe highest of human science pauses with wonder, doubt and confusion. Sleeping—ever sleeplng—hor very life's avenues blockod with silent insensibility and the wrecked loveliness of joy ana light, her existence comes nearest. In Its strange helplessness, realizing the grandly pathetic lines of the poet's mournful scofflngs of philosophy in his mockery of man's nte: Born but to die. and reasoning but to err, (treat lord of all things, yet a prey to all Hole Judge of truth, In endless error hurled, The glory,

Jsst, and riddle of the world. ,,

DAD NhWS FOR BALD HEADED MEN. Dr. J. M. Toner, of Washington, a physician of large experience and a close observer of facts, says that according to his observations nearly all persons of both sexes who lived to the ago of eighty Years and over ret a I red a considerable if not a complete suit of hair at the time of their deaths. He concedes that there are exceptions to this rule, but Insists that a large majority of persons living at the age of eighty or upwards retain a comparatively good suit of hair, or are not bald. Ills hy-tbe.-4s is that a person who retains a hair past the age of sixty-fire has a good prospect of living to be over elghtv. Tbe rule may be tested by any one calling to mind the ages and condition of tbe bair of persons of bis acquaintance of tbe ages indicated, the condition of whose uair is known to him. The vast majority of persons who become bald, or lose their bair, do so between thirty-five and fortv-five, and these rarely «ve to be over sixty-five or seventy years of age.

THE best remedy for In-growing toe nails is to cat a notch about the shape of a in the end of the aail. about a quarter the width of the end of the nail, Irom the in-growing ride. Cat down as nearly to the quick as possible, and one-third the length of tbe nail. The pressure of tbe boot or shoe will tend to close the opening yon have made in tbe nail and thus soon afford relief. Allow tbe in-growing portion of the nail to grow without cutting it nntil it gels beyond the flesh.

MS*

"4:'^,"

not. 8he

nine,

and

midnight.

From

this time she wakes at three and six o'clock in the morning, thence

e*®r7

hour until twelve o'clock noon, which she has continued

todo for

twenty four-

years. The time of her wakings, as before stated, are

regular,

ond and

even to tbe sec

every

"Wednesday morning

at precisely ten o'clock she has a severe spasm, lasting a few minutes, during which she requires several persons to hold her.

Her diet consists oft coffee, a little rice, bread and milk, the two last articles of food being eaten at 12 o'clock. Another peculiar feature of her condition is, that she has never had an appetite since her prostration, and her lood is always suggested by her mother. Owing to the total denial of exercise, her system requires but little food, which is never relished. Her beauty is of no mean type. She has a singularly sweet countenance, clear complexion, penetrated with blueish veins. Her nose has nothing distinctive in its shape or expression. It. is well shaped, and, in fact, the whole configuration ot her face is pleasing, tier eyes are large, and while they do not sparkle with thatir.tense brilliancy which flashes from tbose-of the maniac, have rather the calm, soft beam of resignation and pietv which we would expect to find in a Magdelene. liut there is a glance of intelligence in those eyes which once seen will not be forgotten.

Our Honeymoon,

"My dearest." said Fred, as we neared a little way atation, "what do you say to some lunch? I can step ont here and get you anything you fancy. It may aeem a dreadful thing for a bridegroom to confess, but I begin to feel quite sharp after our early dinner. If you don't mind my leaving you for five minutes."

I signified that an absence of that duration might be supported, and Fred started for tbe refreshment room.

We had been married iust three days, and the glamour of the honeymoon was upon everything, the atmosphere was rarefied beyond that breathed by every-day mortals, the earth glorified with anew beauty, the heavens with a new light. We ate no broad and beefsteak but some ambrosial dish untasted before, and drank golden nectar, etberealized from hotel coffee pots.

I watched Fred from the corner window untilhedisappeared in tbe refreshment room. What a splendid fellow he was! Such eyes, such a mind, such teeth, such a heart, such a general combination of perfections! How charming, bow delightful, how altogether Inexpressible it was to belong to him forever, never to be separated more! when, whiz! clang! Horrors! The train was off again, off with Fred still discussing boned turkey in tbe eating saloon, his faithful wife hopelessly quiescent in the ladies' car, off, thundering at the rate of thirty miles an hour those whom law and gospel shall not part!

What's the matter, mum?" asked the conductor, noticing my excitement. There, there's a gentleman left behind I gasped.

Is there mum was the stoical reply. "Bless your soul, that's nothing

De,MBut,

Two thirty, as quick as you can, mum, time's short." "But my husband has my ticket/' I faltered. "He was left at station you know!"

Beg pardon, mum, but our orders are strict. That sort of dodge is played out on this line entirely. Two thirty, mum, if you please. Will refund at the olflce, when the ticket is presented."

The man suspected me, actually suspected me, Fred's wife! Oh, dear, dear! How utterly lonely and unprotected I felt, after the strong trust and sweet reliance that had been mine.

I haven't any money," I said, In a faint voice. "You'll have to put me out somewhere, I suppose," with despairing resignation.

Allow me, maduin," tho moustached gentleman was up, pocket-book In hand—"until we reach Philadelphia. Your husband can settle it with me afterward ho said, giving bis card, with a smile.

If I hadn't been married, I should have fallen In love with that delightful man on the spot. As it was, I only murmured some unintelligible thanks and slipped his card into my pocket, as memento of a modern knight.

We were to have stopped all night in Philadelphia. As the train neared the city, a now perplexity seized upon me. Where could I go If It were daylight I might remain In the ladles' waitingroom, but Fred would not arrive until nearly ton at night. I had no money to pay a back man, go to a hotel, or evon got my supper.

A sudden thought flashed Into my mind. Aunt Tabby lived in Philadelphia. I had directed a letter to her, only a few weeks before, announcing my approaching marriage. True, tbe reply was rather discouraging, being dismally prophetic of all sorta of evil that awaited me. and darkly suggestive of the snares and pitfalls in that broad road that leads to matrimony and destruction.

But Aunt Tabby took a vinegary view of everything, She never bad felt the mellowing influence of a honeymoon.

We arrived at tbe depot my moustacbed friend bad left the car sometime before, so I was unprotected again. An army of hackmen besieged the door of the depot, and I immediately became tbe subject of a struggle. Oaths and whips resounded about my ears, nntil I was finally seized upon and carried off by the most energetic of tbe party, a red-headed man, whose success arose no doubt from hia naturally proclivity lor anything resembling a fight.

Having secured me in a very dirtv Phlcle, he regarded me with atrf*

vehicle, umphant grin. "Your tbrunk, ia itf bit of tin?" ••The—what?" I asked in "The tin, the bit of tin, to beanra. How am I to get it without the tin

TERKfi-HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, JUNE 14, 1873.

but he's my husband I fal

tered, blushing to my finger tips, as I felt that fact was something new. Three ladies turned around to stare at me, and there was an unmistakable titter beneath the heavy moustache of a gentleman opposite. "Sorry, mum, but it can't be helped. If guests will stop at bar-rooms to whet their whistles we can't wait for 'em."

A bar-room Fred in a bar-room whetting his whistles! What did the odious man mean! 1 tried to crush him with a look, but I wasn't equal to it. Fred, my Fred, in a bar-room?

You needn't be alarmed," said an old gentleman, kindly "there will be another accommodation at eight." "At eight!" And it was now just half-past four. I sank back upon the cushion in quiet desperation. What was to become of me

With the entire abnegation peculiar to the early phase of the honeymoon, I had put my little velvet portmonnaio, hancfkerchief, and vinaigrette in Fred's vest pocket instead of my own, but there was such a delightful novelty in feeling that now I had the right to his.

Was there ever a confiding bride left in such a plight? Without a husband and without a cent and—not tho misfortune to one inclined to the feminine weakness of soft tears without even a pocket handkerchief.

Tbe conductor was again making his rounds. ... Ticket, mum." "I haven't any ticket," I stammered in bewilderment.

Two thirty, then, if you please, as far as Philadelphia." "Ticket, sir—"

Where's the

My check I had forgotten that Fred had the check also. Alaa! for the powerlessnem of a woman 1

rf?

m* my

new Saratoga, filled with the daintiest of trousseaux, bundled off with a load of hotel baggage, and couldn raise a finger to claim it. It was tbe laat straw on the camel's back, and I drove in tears to AnntTabby'a, using my tiasue veil as a pocket handkerchief, and thereby unconsciously tatoolag my dee with streaks of blue.

Even Aunt Tabby'a monumental rigidity waa overcome by my appearance, when she met me at her immacat do or yon and only married three davs! Pay that hackthan, Mary Jane, and send him off before he sees any more of this disgrace! Only three daya! Have mercy on oaI, That 1 should have lived to eee Brother Henry's child

come to this. Taken all vonr money and clothes too? Well 1 Well its nothing more or lees than I expected. Only an accident! Don't talk to me of accidents If yon ever lay your eyes on that man again, my name is not Tabitba Anatitch! The mean-spirited scoundrel! to leave you without a rag on your back! You poor, deluded innocent Put on the kettle, Mary Jane, and hurry np tbe tea, this poor child is trembling like a leaf, ana well she may!"

I was too dispirited and miserable to attempt to stem the torrent of Aunt Tabitha's indignation. I let ber talk on. "Oh! and ain't it dreadful mum?"I heard the sympathetic Mary Jane murmur, aside to her mistress "such a sweet young creetnr that she be! And only look at her face! I expect he's been banging her."

Aunt Tabby pursed up her mouth, and shook her head expressively. Let this be a warning to you, Mary Jane."

Oh, I'm sure it will, mum,"was the feeling reply. She'll never lay eyes on him again," repeated Aunt Tabby, solemnly "never! Bless my soul Who's that?" "Is my wife here?" asked a quick, anxious voice and the next moment Fred's wife was there clasped in the strong arms, crying and laughing together, on the broad, loving breast. "How did you get here so soon How did you find me out Oh, Fred! Fred I have been so frightened and miserable!"

Fred's answer was a shower of kisses. "How did I come? In a coal-car. There was a train of them just behind. It was not the pleasantest ride in tbe world, but it brought me quick to you, poor little frightened birdie!"

And as I met the glance of those loving eyes, I nestled closer to his heart, and felt, in spite of Aunt Tabby's expectations, I was at homo again.

HER SPRING HAT.

How the Average Woman Constructs Her Head-Gear.

Max Alder, iu the Saturday Evening Post.] A woman who is considering the matter of her spring hat is an Interesting subject for contemplation. First she buys a straw frame that looks as If it had been struck by a hurricane and then sat down on by an entire Coroner's jury. After that, when she rides in a street-car, she drinks in the details of every spring hat that enters, and learns them all by heart, and does mental sums over the cost of the ribbon, and makes up hor mind to have flowers in her's like those worn by the woman in corner, and lace like that gaudy-looking creature in the middle. And when she walks down the street and studies all the hats that come along, and when a woman passes her with one on,she twists her neck around to see how it looks behind, and is disgusted to see that tho woman is also dislocating her neck, to see how she trims her bat. When she arrives in front of a millinery store she lingers until she has analyzed all the spring bats in the window,and she determines to trim her's nineteen different ways, and decides not to have flowers like the woman who sat in the corner. Then sho shoots into the store and asks to "see hats," with the air of a person who has a whole female seminary to rig out with eighty-dollar head-gear. She examines every hat in the establishment, overhauls ten bushels of flowers, gets about twenty dollars worth of work out of the saleswoman, and then says she will "look further." Then she goes home with her mind fixed on thirty-eight or nine different styles In which she wants to trim her hat. After while she begins to think she ought to have a feather in it,aud sho passes two or three sleepless nights trying to decide whether to put one on or not. At last she resolves she will. Then she lies awake for two more nights endeavoring to determine whether it shall be red or blue. She fixes on blue. She buys the trimming and sews it on in seventy successive positions, her mind filled with deepest anxiety as to whether the feather should go on the right side, the left side, or on top. She puts It on the right side, but just then Mrs. Brown passes the frout window with a feather on the left side of her's, and so she changes it. The next morning Mrs. Ferguson calls, and her leather is on the right side, and then another change is made. At church the next day, Mrs. Smith has feather on both sides, and Mrs. Jonson has oneon top. Then more sleepless nights and more painful uncertainty. At last, in utter depair she takes the hat to a milliner and pavs ten dollars to have it trimmed. When it comes home she pronounces it "hateful," and picks It all to pieces, and broods over it, and worries and frets, and loses her appetite, and feels life to be a burden for a week or two longer, until suddenly she hits just t'je right thing, and becomes once more serene and nappy, and puts the baton and goea out to make millions ef other women miserable, because their hats are not trimmed exactly like hers. As a wife, woman is a blessing as a mother, she is an inestimable boon as an organizer of spring bats, she is simply an object of compassion. '-p

TAKE CARE OF THE HEALTH. Few people realise what health Is un til they lose It. It is easier to prevent disoaae than to cure It. The character of our farming ia undergoing great changes. We are using more machinery, keeping better stock raialng choicer varieties of fruit, graina, potatoes, roots and grasses, are ouylng more or making better manure. Now, all this requires brains. We are aware that there is a great deal of nonsense written on this subject. But it is undoubtedly a fact that a man cannot long use nis brain as an intelligent enterprising American farmer is now compelled to do, and work and worry at the same time, without abundance of nutritions food. If be undertakes to do it on fiit pork, potatoes, bread, cake, bis health will certainly give way. The American farmer of to-day needs and must have more fretb meat. Better patronise the butcher than the doctor, better sell fewer eggs and bur less medicine. We have neard a farmer say: "Food that la good enough for my men is good enough for me." He may have been ri^bt. But tbe farmer who thinks and works too, needs better food and cooking than he who merely works with his hands,

Ejftrmxo THEATRICAL EPISODE.— While Aunts Firman was playing •'John Garth" at the opera house in Rochester, New York, as the play was approaching a crisis, a gentleman In the orchestra chairs became so much ex riled that when Miss Firman exclaimed, ••Great heavens! what have I done be rose in his seat and shouted, with a denunciatory gesture, "You've raised hell!"

A MARTYR TO LEISURE. Robert Dale Owen, in bis Autobiogrsphy, thus describes one of his father's partners in business

A man of letters, educated to every classical attainment, and the inheritor of a princely fortuue, this gentleman bad been able to gratify, at a wish his cultivated tastes. His marriage was fortunate, and bis children grew up around him with fairest promise. He bad a handsome town house in a fashionable square in London, and a country seat six or eight miles off in the midst of one of those magnificent English parks—the ideal ot stately rural elegance—with its trimly-kept lawn ana its wide-spreading chase, dotted over with clumps of noble old trees, where tbe deer sought refuge from the noonday heat, and a lair at nightfall.

Its owner had traveled over Europe and brought back, as mementos of his journey, paintings and statuary by some of the bost masters, ancient and modern, with which to adorn his favorite retreat. The'house itself, in which I spent some happy davs, with its rich marble columns and balustrades, and a fine specimen of tbe purest Palladian manner where all that luxurious refinement could devise had been unsparingly lavished.

There my father, during a brief interval in his own public life of incessant bustle, found his friend, with no occupation more pressing than to pore over the treasures of his library, and no graver care than to superintend the riches of a conservatory, where wealth had brought together, from half the world, its choicest plants and flowers. They spent some days of undisturbed quiet not an incident beyond the conversation of a sedate and intellectual family, and the arrival and departure of a friend or two, to break tbe complete repose.

Delightful my father thought it, in contrast with tbe busy turmoil he had left and one day he said to bis host "I've been thinking that if I ever meta man who has nothing to desire, you must be he. You have health, cultivation, a charming family. You have gathered round you every comfort wealth can give, the choicest of all that nature and art can supply. Are you not completely happy

Never, my father said to me, would be forget tho sad, unexpected reply "Happy! Ah, Mr. Owen, I committed one fatal error in my youth, and dearly have I paid for it! I started in life without an objeot, almost without an ambition. Mv temperament disposed me to ease, and I indulged it. 1 said to myself, 'I have all that I see others contending for why should I struggle!' I know not tho curse that lights on those who have never to struggle for anything. I ought to have created for myself some detiirlte pursuit—literary, scientific, artistic, political, no matter what, so there was something to labor for and to overcome. Then I might havo been happy

My father suggested that he was scarcely past the prime of life, and that in a hunared ways Ife might still benefit others, while occupying himself. "Come and spend a month or two with me at Braxfield," he added. "You have a larger share in the Lanark mills than any of my partners. See for yourself what has been done for the work people thore and for their children and give me the benefit of your suggestions and your aid."

It is too late," was the reply. "The power is gone. Habits are become chains. You can work and do good but for me—in all the profitless years gone by I seek vainly for something to rememoer with pride, or even to dwell on with satisfaction. I have thrown away a life. I feel, sometimes, as if thero were nothing romalulng to me worth living for."

And neither then nor at any future time did this strange martyr to leisure visit the establishment in which he bad invested a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.—[Atlantic Monthly.

A PUNCTUAL MAN.

Tom. Scott, as he is familiarly styled, is reputed to be a Monte Cristo in promptness and, by the fullest exercise of this quality, he is enabled to do all the work devolving upon him as a great railwav manager. He makes notes of all h'ls engagements, whether they be In the North, South, East or West—not only in regard to dates, but to the precise hour and minute. Should he agree to meet somebody In Galveston, Texas, on the 15th of noxt October, at 11 o'clock In the morning, he will certainly bo there, if he be alive and well. So it is with any other engagement on this or tho otner side of the sea and, if be should say be would meet a man at any given time in tbe moon, he would do his very best to get there in an extra train. So extremely punctual himself, he demands the same punctuality in others. If they are five minutes behind, they lose their opportunity, and are forced to wait upon Scott convenience.

Nothing but the love of power—unless It be the love of cxcltement, or tbe result of fixed habit—can induce any man as wealthy as Scott is to work as hard as be does. Sixteen or seventeen hours a day is reported to be bis average time of labor, and his capacity to sleep soundly keeps him fresh and vigorous enough to prosecute his countless plans, and perfect bis immense railway combinations.—[Chicago Tribune's N. Y. Letter.

nSAYfl JBSyYESlL) °°„W"

The Markets.

IT ia an accomplished fact, tbat by toning and stimulating the nerve atructuro with an occaaional doae of Smolander's Buchu, you invigorate the entire nervous system, and prevent, remove or counteract kidney, bladder and glandular diseases, mental and phyaical debility, diabetes, gravel, female weakness and uterine complaints. It ia without doubt the beat, aafeat and surest diuretic alterative and solvent yet discovered.

A SAY A Th«Tilter

II II omton.

|f YES iy Reaper and Mow^h

Co?whUl flSAYfl la tbe i* *4 ||.r„,,H Superior llYESlU Reaper and Mower.

Jones A Jsnss.

The Superior, a CAVA The Screw Power

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asiva The Weir 3-hon»eCulUvator.

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were

warranted.

11 YF^llJ *re now In use. ILO.Vf FIFCOOO farmers pleased. !V'SIS" KLOOO happy families.

were

warranted.

11 YF^llJ *re now In use. ILO.Vf FIFCOOO farmers pleased. !V'SIS" KLOOO happy families.

Tbe Weir I* old fanhloned, but It never has been equaled*

TaKES-HAUTE, June 13.

The following figures are paid to farmers and others by dealers In this city: BEESWAX—Yellow S 2241 27 BUTTER-Best 20§ 25 CORN MEAL so EGG8— Fresh ]om 11 FEATHERS—Lire Uoese_ 55S 60

Old 20rt» so

FLOUR—Fancy brands 8 U0@ 8 25 FRUIT—Ureen Apples™ 75(3 1 00 Dried 5

Dried Peaches. fca

GRAIN—Corn 300 88 Oats 25£ 30 Rye 55 60

WhitH wheat....^ I t» Alabama. 1 65uC Mediterranean 1 45

GINSENG 1 00 GREASE-Brown 6§ HAY—Per ton -12 00§14 00 HIDES—Green trimmed 9§ 10

Salted 10 Dry salted 1IS 15 Dry flints 1"@ 20 "Sheepskins 5§ 150

TALLOW 7« PRO VISIONS—Hams. 1% 12 Sides. Sg

Shoulders. 5@ 6

MESS PORK—Per bbl 0O@15 00 LAUD—Country...- 6(9 7 POTATOES. TO® 80 POU LTRY—Turkeys, alive per to. 10 4t" dressed 10® 11

Dncks per dozen 2 00® 8 00

." si Geese 8 50 itCbic'ns, old, perdoz. 8 00® 8 25

Sj"

dressed 8 25® 8 50

SEEDS—Flax„ 1 4i Clover 9® 10 RAGS—Cotton 3® 8k WOOL—Tub-washed 43® 4o

Fleece 88® 40 Unwashed 27« 80

QRIMES & ROYSE,

Real Estate Dealers,

If AVE FOR SALE

ONE HUNDRED YACANT LOTS,

In different parts of the city at prices from $175 to 84,000.

FIFTY DWELLING HOUSES,

At from StiOO to 910,000 also a rare opportunity to invest a small amount of capital so well. Call on Grimes A Royse and take one ot Brokaw's Lots, tbev are on 6£ and 7th streets terms easy. Also, Three Lots, east front, on south 6th street.

Ollicc, No. 2 Fifth Street, & South of Main.

Dr. A. Blitz,

OcnllMt A Aurlsf, Gives special attention to the treatment of all diseases of the Eye end Ear, whether of acute or chroulo lorm, as scro/it-

low and other sore eyes, which from negligence have becomo chronic. Granulated Lids, weak Eyes, etc. Eyes, where the sight has become obscured from cataract or any other opacity operated carefully and skillfully and the sight restored. Cross Eyen straightened In one minute, without pain or chlbroform.

Earache, hard hearing, deafness, disagreeable! smelling, dlschages from the Ear, Catarrh, etc., cured In a short time.

Call and see Dr. BLITZ, at his office. No. 119 Malu street, over Bage'a Confectionery Store, Terre-Haute, Ind. mar22

LEASE DON'T READ THIS

hat company Khali I Insure my dwelling In to obtain perfect security—The Walertonn. Company doing only a dwelling and farm business Is not subject to conflagrations. he companies doing a general business may be bankrupt to-morrow. udeavor to secure the strongest policy, get the Wntertown. eal security beyond any contingency Is offered by the H'alcrftown.

W A

rphe reason Is obvious—tho eggs are not all In one basket.

0 W N

rdlnarlly theWalerlown will lose not to exceed $5,000 In any one fire. ith the burning of large cities It could not lose to exceed $50,000. -Cash Capital, $200,000. Cash Assets, over $165,000 1872, Income, $284,223.

Losses, $66,000. Income JS73, $120,000. Losses, 183,000. ,i-

W atertown Fire Insu ranee Com'.

WATKRTOWJT, NEW YOIIK, PAYS ALL LOSS OR DAMAGE BY FIRE OR LIGHTNING.

Rates low. Security Perfect. Ne Company more prosperous.

F. A, MCDONAIJD,

Agent,

Room No. 7, Beach's Block.

O 4, 5, 6, 7 AND 9 INCH

Stoneware Pipes,

Cl'KVJES, ELBOWS, JOINTS, TRAPS, &c.,

FOB

OINTEBNS. NINKM. CEIil.AIM, SEWERft, HLVtRTK, Ac.,

JONES & JONES,

maySMt East of Public Square.

O HORT-HORN8 At Public

Sale,

WEDNESDAY, AFO. L»TB, 1H78. This entire her the property of A. C. Htevenson, Greencastle, Ind., will be sold on nix months time, eonaltlng of forty-nine head beside a number of For particulars send for catalogue. To render this of Mme permanent usefulness we have appended the points of cattle and tlielr philosophy. Young breeders will find this worth sending lor and preserving. Address A. C. STEVENSON, Greenoastle, Putnam

NEW BATH ROOMS!

Anew and reliable change has been mad In order to furnish

HOT AND COLD BATHS,

At all times at the New Bath Rooms and Barber Shop on Ohio Hi., bet. 3rd A 4th.

J. P. Worrell, M. D.,

J. ftlxlhNt.,ftontb of Ohio.

Orrrcn Hotrua—«to 9 o'clock A. *. 2 to 4 and 7 andS o'clock p. x.,and all other hours night or day when not absent professionally. febs-tf

Orrrcn Hotrua—«to 9 o'clock A *. 2 to 4 and 7 andS o'clock p. x.,and all other hours night or day when not absent professionally. febs-tf

E. HOSFORD,

,w,,vf

Jones A Jones. «f

,w,,v

v, i-rspt*'-

Attortiey at Law,

COR. FOURTH AND MAIN 8T8. Il-ly

f\l£} PAPERS FOR SALE AT THIS OFflee, 60 cents a hundred.

'Sf i-