Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 24, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 12 December 1874 — Page 2

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THE MAIL

PAPER

FOR THE

That never come at night?

And hearts have broken And harsh words spoken ,=*,• That sorrow can ne'er set right.

We have careful thought* for the stranger, And smiles for the sometime guest,

1 lips with the curve impatient, -7 Ah! now with that look of scorn Twere a cruel fate Were the night too late

"One Too Many

BY CHRISTIAN

KID.

Author o/1* Valerie Aybncr" "Morion Mouse, "Rota Beverley's Hedge," «e.]

CHAPTER I.

Esther, my dear, will you see if you can find my badger for me?" The voice which spoke thus from behind a large easel was rather languid and a little plaintive, but a girl who was sitting at the farther end of the studio, sewing by a window, sprang up at onoe. a slender, dainty creature, who looked almost childlike as she stood on ber feet.

Certainly, papa," she answered. "Do, you know wnere you put it last?" On some of the tables, I think," answered the same unseen person in the same slightly plaintive tone. "That troublesome "Margaret disarranges my things whenever she comes in here."

Esther looked on various mucli-en-cumbered tables, and before long found the missing brush. She took it to her father, and was rewarded by a smile.

This is it," he said. "I believe you find things by magic. Come round and tell me what you think of that bit of sky. I atn rather doubtful about it."

Esther obeyed, coming, round and looking over nis shoulder with an intelligent and somewhat critical glance—a glance that had nothing of doubtful ignorance in it, and nothing of undue partiality, either. It was evident that she knew the points of a good picture as well as any artist, and it was also evident that she would not be blinded to the absence of thf»e points because her own father It

Hang Nature!" said he and having enunciated that daring blasphemy, he laughed at the expression of his daughter's face, put a little dab of paint on the and of her nose and Ml to work on his picture.

The girl watched him far spme time! seen thus in cl«se proximity, their relationship was evident at a glance, for they were as much alike as it is possible for two people of different ages and different sexes to be. They both had the same graceful oast of feature, the same dear brunette complexion, the sume flexile^ensitive lips,tbe same large dark eyes- set weil and deeply under the finely-arched brows, ana the same soft, silken hair. The father's face was worn and sharp—linad and haggard, as the tews of ail who have struggled long against adverse fortune become—but, nevertheless, a face to excite interest, and even a facetowin admiration while the daughter's was fresh as a rosebud and bright as a sitnbeam. It was no wonder that her presence glorified this somewhat gloomy studio, lor it would have been aU the same whether in a hovel or a palace. She was made to shed brightness around her, and she did it with a glad lavish unconsciousness of her own power which rendered it all the better worth having. A girl to be thankful for, people thought—even people who were strangers to her. who knew nothing of jHer daily Ufa, and only not her in the street, and felt their hearts wssrtnod by the bright young face and sweet young eyes that looked at them from underthe shade of what was often an exceedingly shabby hat. For tfcey were very poor, this artist and Ms dsaacfet*r, and they lived that terrible

horn and well-reared are least able to endure. It was not the poverty which grumbles and arows ill-natured because Uxnes are hard and luxuries must fee curtailed, nor yet the poverty that has Ms assured onwft and lives upon It contentedly if it can, not, discontentedly hut It was that awful poverty—that

on sufleftnee to-day, unknowing, and sometimes uncaring, where the nil' MMBt, th» food wtiM *&£££? of to-mor-row is to ba found.

Tbeee being their cinmnurtamwa, it was not singular that the first words spoken by the Wth«r had referents to the vexed pecuniary quest ion.

Are yon going ont this morning, Esther?** be asked, and something hi the tone «4 the inquiry made his daughter

start,

and giaoes

r^-SV, "rn. & &

PBOPIJS.

IF I HAD KNO WN.

can we do Have you any^, money left far hotisehola expenses?"

She shook her head sadly "None." And I spent the last in: my purse yesterday. I waited to the very last, hoping the picture might be sold, and that I might be spared another of these humiliating applications. But we can't starve, little ono— at least you can't—and the grocer's unpaid bill is due again to-morrow. However, I won't be selfish enough to put it 011 you I'll go myself and see Hensel about the matter."

P&WS®?!

If I had known In the morning How wearily all the day S£S£-px The wortta unkind «t

WouixA a-ouble my mind I said when you went away, V„ I bad been more careful, darling,

Nor given you needless pain. But we were "our own" Jt. With look tad tone fr^T

We might never take bacfc again. ». For though in the quiet evening 5 .. You may «lve me the kiss of peace,

Yet It might be That never for me ~f & JPsM The pain of the heart should cease, ,( How many go forth in the morning

No, no," said she, eagerly. "You must stay and paint It would never do for you to go out in this cold wind with your cough. I will go. Mr. Hensel rather likes me, I think, and he —he mar do it for me."

i-rj^

K?MS

But oft for "our own" The bitter tone. Though we love "our own the beat.

Don't press him, Estlvny! if he declines."

To undo the work of the mom!

Do vou think I would she said, with an indignant rush of blood ovorthe proud young faee. Then she looked up almost piteously:

Oh, papa, papa, it is—"

It is terribly bitter, my poor little flower, f«r you.1'

441

was not thinking of

myself," she said, hastily. "1 was thinking how hard it is on you. Now I set my teeth and bear whatever has to be borne," said she, suiting the action to, the word ana setting them arf she spoke. "I think that a hundred years hence it will not make any difference and I also think"—the mouth relaxed and the voice softened here—"who it was that had not once where to lay liis head, Papa, we are of more account than many sparrows, are we not?"

441don't

chanced to paint the one un

der (sss'o.i. She looked steadily, therefore, ami after a time she spoke.

I uttt douotial also, papa. The tint is too deep, ami I think those outlines cut against it too sharply. Then, that foliage—surely you have not finished it?"

Surely I have. Why not?"

It is too much of a sugaesticn—not sufficiently brought out In detail, think."

Pshaw!" said the artist, looking up from some colors he was mixing ana giving a rapid glance at the foliage in question. "Your head is turned by preKaphselite nonsense, Esther. It is a pity you aver heard of Raskin."

Ruskin suits me, papa." Then Raphael andT Correggio and Rubens and Murillo don't stut you— that is all. Your latter school has yet to make its first great artist." i" Bat Nature, papa—"

him a

little

ap-

|weha»sively. No—jea^that Is, I am not g^ng, papa, but 1 OU do DO If you whtk it/1 she answewd. ••Do yon want anythias?" "jU,* mid be, heeitatingly. Then he awde dash at his sky and a dash into his a* the same time. "I only thought yon might be nrfng," he want on, homedly,

44and

know, Esther but it seems

to me that the sparrows have much the best of us. They live while they do live, and some day they are lucky enough to be shot, and that is an end of the matter" "Papa, keep heart you will be a great artist some day."

He shook his head sadly, and the nervous, sensitive lips quivered, despite his efforts to prevent it.

Never, little one,.—never," he said. "It might have been onoe, but not now. The cunning has left toy hand and hope has left my heart, and between the two I shall never do better than this."

He pointed almost disdainluily at the canvas as he spoke, and his daughter's eyes tilled with tears—tears which choked her voice so that she could not answer, but stood silent, lighting the wild .-thoughts and wilder wishes that rushed over her. She was one of the people who are born to suffer through others—born, that is, to feel the sufferings of others more acutely than it is possible for them to feel any sufferings of their own and therefore she was also one of the people whose lives, from the start, are lull of trouble. This was the kingdom over which she was called to reign—a kingdom of pain, though also of love, a realm of hearts ruled and won by the magic of a heart at once strong enough and gentle enough to ieel through sheer sympathy every throb which smote, every anguish which tortured them. In her baby hands had been laid a sceptre, on her baby brow pressed a crown for which, like all other crowns, had been paid, and was yet to pay, a heavy price. Already she had felt this already she had taken a degree in the stern school of adversity, and known, as no one can ever know from mere theory, the weight of those sordid cares that burn ana chafe the more from their very littleness, the pressure of that iron hand which crushes hope and courage, and sometimes even faith, out of hnman hearts. With all ber fund of brightness, these things told on Esther sometimes—as, indeed, she would have been more tlian mortal if they had not—and never more than when she saw how the burden of grim anxieties was breaking down the physical and mental strength of tho father who was to this motherless, sisterless and brotherless girl her very all. Looking at him now, and seeing the dark cloud on his face, she felt as if she would gladly walk through fire and sword to lift it—as if she could even find oourage to go and ask assistance which might almost be reckoned charity. She clenched ber teeth over the necessity, for one moment, then—for she was not a girl to make half sacrifices—looked up, smiling brightly

You are always downcast, papa, when the exchequer tiros low. But I am sure Mr. Hensel will be obliging. I shall be ready to go in a minute. Come, Festus!"

A small glossy terrier sprang up from a corner at sound of that name, and rushed headlong after ber as she left the room. He was not at all a remarkable dog, except in the Item of glossiness, but Esther thought bisintslligenoe next to human, and MIS activity was certainly remarkable when anything like a walk in question. Festus was not cltvbora or city-bred any more than his mistress, and the confinement between brick walls, and the exercise on pared streets, told on him as they would have done on any dog of country habits. No doubt be thought very often of the broad ftdr domain he h«d once known, and dreamed of its velvet lawn ana wide garden when he was feat asleep at the foot of Esther's bed. If ttiere is reilly audi a thing as sympathy in dreamland, he may have been aware that his mistress was dreaming of them too, with a yearning deeper even than his. But they were wise In their way, this Biistrsss and dog they kept* their dreams to themselves, or only whispered them to each other in strict confidence, when the dusk was dying away over the city rooffe, and thair thoughts went bsck to the old lifo In the old home with the hamt-alek iongiagof hopetan ffriliL

After a while Stotber opened her father's door, and showed herself fully equipped for walking* "lam going,'* she ntKL

4*Wish

in that case I

wanted you to rtep in at Ifentel's and aak Mm aboirt my picture." "What shoot ft?**

Whether it has found a jr nrany 4aneeof a purchaser, If—but 1 hate to put that on yo CXMM advanoeaamail somon ir

At he

Papa, 1—1 am sore he wtmM not like to do so." "So am I, for that n»aUer l. tu what

44Dear,

TEREE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

TEH, MB WHAT YOU THINK Off THAT BIT OK SKY."

She almost forgot her own shabby dress, her oltl-flishioned hat and much-wera shoos, in admiring the costly toilettes that swept by her in the ever-moving throng and wlmn she did remember herself, it was with a shrinking which had long since grown familiar—a sensation of being a dark blot 011 this otherwise sunny picture. Yetif she had only known it, she carried about her a brighter charm than any that seemed to her so radiant. These lovely ladies, with their golden hair, their silks and velvets, were very beautiful, 110 doubt, from the artist's or milliner's point of view but who ever gained a softer impulse from looking on their laces, or went home cheered and brightened to bear some hard cross or harder desolation by one of their smiles And this was what Esther, in her shabby dress unci old-fash-ioned hat, was specially made to do. Here was not a face that impertinent loungers on street corners lifted their eye-glasses to scrutinize, or stared at in insolent admiration as she passed, but it was a face that little children looked up into and buret involuntarily into smiles —a face that shone like a star upon the worn, the weary or the suffering, and touched sometimes the hearts that beat beneath velvet and point-lace.

What a lovely girl!" said a young laciy who was loaning back in a carriage that stood before the door of a fashionable dry-goods establishment. "Look, Laura! has she not a charming face

Heavens! what a guy of a hat!" said the companion so addressed, lifting her eye-glass and taking an observation of Esther's hapless head covering. "I did not see her face, but the cut of that sacque is something unique where do you suppose the pattern came from? There! she has turned round, and we can see the front of it. But what is she after? Can you tell?"

Something is the matter," said the first speaker, leaning forward. And something was indeed very much the matter, Festus had come to grief very suddenly, and very greatly to his own and his mistress' discomfiture. He had been trotting along, looking about him too much and paying too little attention to where he was going, and the consequence of these indiscretions was that he neglected to make way for a surly man who was wheeling before him a sort of truck, with no intention whatever of making way for a dog. Naturally there was a collision, and naturally, also, Festus got the worst of it. When Esther heard a sharp yelp and turned round, she found that be had been knocked down, and that one heavy wheel had passed over his right fore paw, rendering it quite useless. The surly man flung him a curse as be pass* ed on. but there were others not quite so hanl-nearted whom the dog's piteous lamentations and bis mistress' evident distress moved to'active compassion.

dear!" said a kindly-looking

woman with a basket on her arm. "He do cry pitiful—just like a baby, poor dear! There, now, but it was too bad! Don't he get any better?"

441—I

am afraid his paw is broken,"

said Esther, trying to keep back her tears because they looked loollsh, and yet secretly longing to weep a flood of tears over the injured paw that rested in her hand, whiM Festus lifted up his voioe, and wished, no doubt, that he had not men fool enough to trust himself in the perils of these areadfol city streets.

Stand awsy and let me see about it," said a pleasant, good-humored voioe. and an eluorly gentleman stopped and stooped down. "I am a surgeon and if any bones are broken, my little man, I'll soon set you right. Pshaw! it's only the simplest possible fracture." he went on. examining the paw which Esther held while Fostus protested loudly, hut was too well trained to t^iink of biting. "Ill tie it up in a minute, and in a few days you'll be running about again as br&kly as ever. Got a bandage said he, altering his tone and looking up at Esther.

Before she could reply, a handkerchief was banded to him by a very daintily-gloved hand and taking it, with a nod, he fell to work. Ueoertalftly was a prince of his draft, for in a minute or two tbe bone* were set, the paw tied up, and tfastus' howlisg had subsided to a low. half-frightened whimper. Then the gentleman rose to his feet and

•topped

me luck, papaf'

441

wish tt with all my heart, little one—for yonr sake." The last claoss was uttered in a lower lane, and Esther did not eatch it. She had already shut tb* door ami was halfdown stairs, followed by the patter of Fostus' caws. In another moment she reached the street, for their lodgings —three inconvenient rooms In which they Hv«d, ate and slept—were over a dingy clothing establishment in a dingy part

the city, Mid a flight of stairs

led directly from her father's studio down totbe pavement. Having readied the latter, she set ber face toward that brighter world which showed its many gmtnes on the fashionable tbormigb-

A very bright world It wna on that bright winter day, when the son shone dasaltngly clear on the heaps of hard* frocen snow, and the gajr current of city life was flowing along in «ala costume, what in* mnch like irnla costume "yes. Ppor child!

Esther's thanks with perempto

ry good-humiw: Not a word, my dear young lady. I am deligl) ted to have been able to do a little practice in an amateur way. If the patient does not get on well, us* arnica freely and If professional services are needed, let me know—Dr. Wilmot, at the Inflrmary. And now good-morn-ing."

He shook cordially tbe hand Esther held out to him, and then went his way, thinking as he went that he was more than paid for this chance service by the grateful look in the large dark eyes that bad just glanced up at him, and, In truth, were looking after hint still when «clear voice said, "What will yon do about tha little dog? lie cannot walk/* and turning, Esther saw tbe young lady who had been sitting in tbe carriage a re

She was a handsome girl, independently of ber accessories or costume, for her features were tegular, her complexion bright and dear, her eyas a warm, light haael, and her talr that rich chesCnut with a dash of red in it which has seam»ly Jtn equal far abstract beauty

but perhaps it was more the sheen of her silk dress, the general effect of the soft lace and fresh ribbons and exquisitelyfitting gloves, that made her look so radiant in Esther's eyes as the little maiden turned round. She gazed for a moment with the keen, fresh, artistic admiration which long artistic association bad taught her, and then answered quietly and readily, like tbe born gentlewoman that she was:

Oh, I can carry him. I often carry bim, though he is rather heavy. But—'' She stopped short and looked dismayed.

But what asked the young lady, who was watching her. But I have business down street that must be attended to at once. Oh, Festus, dear what shall I do with you? I cannot carry you with me an? If I go home, it will be so late that I sha.il hardly be able to come out again to-day." "Where do you live?" asked the young lady, abruptly.

Very far from here," answered Esther, absently, thinking only how she could ever contrive to get Festus there.

441

did not ask from curiosity," said tbe other, a little stifHy, suspecting a rebuff where, in fact, nothing of the sort was intended.

441

44You!"

asked because I

thought I might take the little dog home while you could go on and attend to the business »f which you spoke."

Esther looked up, startled

and amazed. "Indeed you are very kind, but I could not think of such a thing. I live very far off."

It does not matter how far it is if you will give the address to the coachman. Here is the carriage. Will you bring the dog and put him in

Oh, but indeed you are too kind—" Nobody ever was too kind," interrupted the young lady, a little brusquely, and shelled the way to the carriage, where ber companion sat with a halfwondering, half-disgusted face.

Surely, Hortense—" she began, shrinking away as poor little Festus was laid tenderly clown on one of the seats but Hortense stopped her very unceremoniously

Move a little, if you please, Laura. I am going to take this little dog home, and you can either come with me or go to mauun'k. We shall be back before she has finished choosing her dresses, I am sure. Give John the address," she added, turning to Estber. "He will find the place if it Is to be found." ifether mentioned the street and number to the coachman, and then she turned again to the young lady, who had by this time re-entered the carriage.

My father's name is French," she said. "There can be no mistake ii—" Her speech was cut short by the starting of the horses, and the next moment the carriage rolled away, leaving her with the consciousness that she had not even learned the name by which this "daughter of the gods, divinely tall and moet divinely Mr," was known among men.

This consciousness was still with her, troubling her a&d tiirewing something of a cloud over -lisr usual brightness, when she entered the art emporium of Mr. Hensel. It was a beautiml place, and a place which well deserved the great popularity which it enjoyed—a place where good pictures were always to be seen, ana where the finest foreign engravings, the most exquisite statuary at)a the rarest articles of vertu were always to be obtained.

Mr. Hensel himself was not visible when Esther, passing by the large win dow before which a erowd was always fluctuating, entered the serene somewhat dim region of art-beaaty and walked down the long room to a table where a clerk sat writing.

441

want to see Mr. Hensel," sle said, as tbe latter looked op wad greeted her by name. "Ia he busy—engaged with any one—just now

I think he is, misa" the man replied. "He was called off by another party jnst now, and I believe he went up stairs to show a picture." •4 Another—oh, somebody, you mean," said Esther* She eouM never grow used to to the odious "party" phraseology, and she rebelled inwardly whenever she was addressed as "miss." "I will wait for hint, then. I suppose be won't be long?" "I cant say, miss, I am sore. Bt%I can let him know that you are here."

Thank you. I wish you would.* The man, who was agood enough sort of person in his way, and, like many others, had a ftmcy for Esther's sweet face, laid down his pen .and went up a flight of steps that led to a picture-gal-lery above. At the ftrther end of this two gentlemen wero#«landing before a painting, and ono of them looked up as the clerk approached, showing a plain but decidedly marked and rather pleasant face.

What is it, Johnson Miss French, sir, Is down stairs, and says she would like to speak to you."

Mr. Hensel frowned a little. He, too, was a good man and a kind man In his way, but he did not like to be disturbed by anybody sd Insignificant as Miss French when he ch&noed to be concluding agood bargain. "Tell Miss French I will see her after awhile." he said, a little shatply, "and dont disturb ma by messages of this sort when you know 1 ainfusy. As I was saying, Mr. Deverell," be weut on, in a different tone, bnt ttie gentleman so addressed interrupted hims if a lady want to speak to yoc, Mr.

Henael, dont let me detain lyou. Iam in no hurry, and I will stay hare until yoa S.oome back."

Mr. Hensel heard berthrough, and then answered civilly but coldly that be was sorry it was out of his power to oblige Mr. French. There was very little appreciation of art, as Jliw French knew, and pictures were very unsalable commodities his business was a very expensive one, and one that required a good deal of capital to keep it up be really could not advance anything on a security that might prove utterly useless. He was sorry—he hoped Miss French would tell her father that he was sorry—but it was quite impossible.

Miss French accepted this dictum very quietly, and made no effort to change it. Looking at her, no one would ever have guesseuthat the request which had just been made and refused was almost a matter of life and death with her, and that the last plank between herself and shipwreck seemed slipping from her grasp. She only lowered her veil, that the paleness which she felt coming over her face might not be observed, and then asked quite steadily if Mr. Hensel had no hope of selling the picture.

Mr. Hensel hesitated a moment. "I did not mean to tell you," he said, "for the bargain is not yet concluded and may not be, but I was just showing it to that gentleman yonder when you came in."

He nodded toward the adtialrer of PsychQ as he spoke, and. Esther's eyes, following the direction of tbe nod, looked eagerly and attentively at the probable purchaser of her father's handiwork. She was trying to discover how far he gave indication of being amenable to art influences. The result proved by no means gratifyiug. He looked—or she thought he looked—much too practical to take interest or bestow regard upon those ideal forms of the beautiful that in ber eyes were all which rendered life worth caring fer. Ho had a sharp, clear-ly-cut, middle-aged face, with a great deal of intellectual power and no lack of moral force in it, mil gray eyes, of the tint not remarkable so much for beauty as for expression, and crisp brown hair turning silver on the temples. Altogether, Esther was not encouraged but then she was not repelled, either, and after a moment she asked Mr. Hensel who he was.

Mr. Deverell." the dealer replied "one of our first lawyers I wonder you have never heard of bim. A very cultivated gentleman, with one of tho best art collations in the city."

Indeed!" said Esther, genuinely astonished, for her idea of law was something dim, appaling and quite removed from any possible association with art collections. "I hope he will buy papa's picture," she went on. "If he does, Mr. Hensel, you will let us know at onoe, will you not?" "lean probably let you know in an hour, if you will call."

Oh yes. Dont let me keep you," said she, eagerly. "I will call, certainly. Thank you" for telling me. Goodmorning."

When Mr. Hansel and his probable customer were again standing before the picture which tbe latter thought of purchasing, he said,

Miss French's face looks so familiar to me that I think her father must be my old friend Arthur French. Can you you tell me If I am right

Mr. Hensel smiled and turned the canvas round, so that on the reverse side was plainly to be read,

French, fmuc."

It is only French the artist's daughter," said Mr. Hensel, carelessly. "She cant have anything of importance to say, and she wont mind waiting."

Everybody minds waiting, I think," said the gentleman, pleasantly. "I really must Insist on your going, and I believe on seoond thought, I will go with you. I want another look at that statue of Psyche."

I should like to sell this picture to you, Mr. Dev.erell."

We'll see 'about it in a minute," said Mr. Deverell and as he was a man evidently accustomed to have bis own way, they went down together.

Estber was standi ug before the identical Psyche which Mr. Deverell had come down to see when the two gentlemen approached. She did not hear their footsteps, so she turned with a start when Mr. Hensel's voice at her elbow bade ber good-day. Then sbo was so full of eagerness to speak to him and get her obnoxious business over, that she hardly noticed the stranger who accompanied him, and who looked at her quite critically as she drew the dealer away some little distance ana stood talking, making ber request bravely, though sbo felt her pulses beating with a force that seemed to vibrate in one throb through her whole body.

44Arthur

This ia the man," he said.

He onoe

had a good fortune, and rather played at painting than anything else, but pecuniary revetses overtook him, and now he Is here Minting for bread." "Where does he live?" said Mr. Deverell, hastily. "If I bad only known this! I must go and see him at once."

You will find him sadly down In the world, or, rather, up lh the world, In an attic sense," said tho dealer. "Of course ha will bo glad to aee yon. I fancy be Is not overwhelmed with friendly attentions these days. I suppose you will certainly take the picture?" he went on, aa Mr. Deverell took down tho address In bis note-book.

Come down stairs, and I will give you a chcck for' the amount at once," said that gentleman. "By tbe way, didn't yon tell that yon nad fallen a hundred or twoin tbe price?"

French put it a hundred and fifty higher, but I told him it would never do."

French knows the meritsof hisown picture better then you do, then," answered Mr. Deverell, good-humoredly. "With your permission, I will put the hundred and fifty back •gain-''

And in tbe check which he filled out a moment or two later he was as good as his word. [TO «B coimnrms.]

"Cherry

Time"

—Aim—

"Lily of the Field."

We are now giving to every CLQ0 yearly subscriber a choice of the above Chromes, They are catalogued and mid In the art storesattUW per copy but will be given to all pennons who send us their names as subscribers enclosing tM the price of the pa* per for one year. These pictures are perfect copies in every delicate tint and color of magnificent paintings costing hundreds of dollars. All who have any idea of or love of art fall In love with them at first sight I

Saturday Evening MATT.,

FOR THE YEAR

1874-5.

AMODEL WEEKLY PAPER FOR THE HOME. —r

TERMS:

One year, (wltli chromo).....^..,^.,..,^ (B eo Six months, (without chromo)„...„„. u- 00 Three months, (without chromo)...„ 50 ots.

Mail and office Subscriptions will, invariably, be discontinued at expiration of time paid for.

Encouraged by the extraordinary success which has attended the publication of THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, the publisher has perfected arrangements by which it will henceforth be one of the most popular papers in the West. _____ »s"-

THE CHOICE OF

Two BeautiM Chromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and after this dat^L Tbes? beautiful pictures just from the hands of tbe French chrom artists, are faithful copies of oil paintings by the artist W. II. Baker, of Brooklyn. One, entitled

"Cherry Time"

Represents a bright raced boy, coming from tbe orchard, boantlfulTy laden with tbe redripe fruit. The other, entitled

"Lily of the Field"

Is a beautiful little girl, with »ne of the sweetest of faoes, gathering lilies in the field. One Is a wood scene, the other has an open meadow in the back ground. They are of striking beauty.

For one dollar extra ($3.00 in all,) wo will send The Mail one year and both chromos mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold in the art stores at FOUR DOLLARS EACH.

•m a *. w.. FRAMES. We have matte arrangements with an extensive manufactory of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a framo usually sold for 11.50 and 81.75. These frames are of the best polished walnutand gilt. Hereisthe

BILL OF PRICES* •«''i

The Mall one year and choloe of Cliromo 82 00 The Mall one year and Both Chromos mounted.. 8 00 The Mail one year aud Both Chromos

FRAMED 5 00

THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL is an Indej»eBdent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed ou eight pages of book paper, and alms to be, in every sense, a Family Paper. With this aim In view, nothing will appear in its columns that cannot be read aloud in the most refined fireside circle.

CLUBBING WITH OTHER PERIODICALS. We are enabled to offer extraordinary inducements in the way of clubbing "vlth other periodicals. We will furnish THE SATURDAY EVENINtt MAIL, PRICE 82.00 PER YEAR, and either of tho abovo Chromos with any of the periodicals enumerated below at greatly reduced rates. Those periodicals will be sent direct from the offices of publication. Here is the list:

SEMI-WEEKLY.

Semi-Weekly New York Tribune, price &00, The Mall und Chromo f45»

WEEKLY PAPERS.

IndlanavoUa Journal, prim 82.00, The Mail and Chromo 98 60 Indianapoli* Sentinel, price 32.00, The

Mail and Chromo 8 50 N. T. Tribune, price 82.00, The Mail and Chromo 8 50 Toledo Blade, price SUM, The Mail and

Chromo. 8 6» y. Y. Sun, The Mail and Chrsmo 8 00 Prairie Farmer, price 82.00, The Mail and Chromo 8 60 Western Sural, price &50, The Mail and

Chromo 8 50 Chicago Advance, price 88.00, The Mall and Chromo-...™... 4 58 Chicago Interim, price 88^0, The Mail and Chromo 00 Chicago Inter-Ocean, price 81.50, The

MaU and Chromo.. 8 Appleton's Journal, price 84.00, The Mail and Chromo

Rural New Yorker, price 88UDO, The Mall and Chromo JK Hearth md Home, price $8.00, The Mail and Chromo....-^.... yj.............. 4 50 MethodUt, price 82JO, The Mail and

Chromo... ............... 8 60 Harper's Weekly, price 84.00, The Mall and Chromo........ 6 60 Harper's Bazar, price 84.00, Tbe Mail and Chromo.... 6 60 Frank Letlie* Illustrated Newspaper, price 84.00, Tbe Mall and Chromo 6 00 Lenlies Chimney Corner, price W.00, The

Mall and Chretno 6 Boys' Mai

1 KQU and Girl*' Weekly, price 82.60, the all and Chromo 8 75

MONTHLIES.

Arthur's Home Mapaxine, price 82-50, Tho Mall and Chromo

Mall

and

ftfcraw'i Magazine, price 81,00, The Mall and Chromo.. ............... American AatieuSurM, price 81.S0, Tbe

Chromo

8 50

Mail and Chromo— Detnorest't Monthly, price 88^)0, 1 year, The Mail andChr»mo_.. Oodey's Jjady's Book, prioe 1&QQ, The

8 00

4 SO

LUOe Corporal, price fl.50, The Mail and Chromo.......^... Scribner's Monthly, prioe 81.00, The Mail and Chromo.—. Atlantic Monthly, price 84.06, Tbe Mail and Chromo 61 Old and New, price 84.00, The Mail and

856 600

Chromo. Overland. Monthly, price tf.00, The Mail and Chromo.^.... Harper's Magazine, price 84.W, The Mail and Chromo.... U*rdeiter'* Monthly, prioe iOjQO, The Mail and Chromo...

S6» 680

5 50

-... 8 50 27S 800

Young Folks Rural, The Mail and ChroT7ie°Nur»ery, price 81^0, The Mail and Chromo St. Niehohu, prioe ISjUO, The Mail and

425

Chromo— All the premium* offered by the above pub lications are included in this clubbing arrangement ''f 'f

CLUBBING WITH COUNTY PAPERS. We have made arrangements to furnish THE MAIL, with

Chromo,

and any one of

the Newspapers in the neighborhood of Terre Haute all for 33JJ0.

JUST LOOK AT IT!

The Hail, prioe. W j# Your County paper, price. a 00 Toe Chromo, worth.-.

Total —W

All these—8^00)—for 8&00. Address F. 8. WWITFALL, Publisher Saturday Evening Mail,

TERREHAUTB, INS