Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 28, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 9 January 1875 — Page 6

THE MAIL

PAPER FOR THK PEOPLE.

THE OLD STORY.

summer's day—the tale is told— I, honest peasant, poor an«l old— jrked in the meadow with Jits wife, ien thus she spoke: Well, on myllfo! precious hard that you and I st sweat beneath the burning sky, galley slaves, for paltry pay, id all because— alas, theday! Adam's fall I—But for bin sin )d Kve's, how happy we had been! rue?" said the peasant "I believe, 4 I been Adam—you been Evefoolish fancies would have come drive us from our Etlou -home |t all the race this v*ry dny id in the garden been at play!' fo Count, thetr master, standing near, iiough quite unnoticed) chanced to hear loir wise discourse and, laughing, said: A'ell, my good friends, suppose instead ^Paradise my mauslon there re yours to-day with Princely fare _• food to eat and wine to drink, )'ul4 that content ye, d*» you think hi that were Paradise indeed tat more," they cried, "could mortals need?" Veil—we shall see," the Count replied Jut that your virtue may be tried, iuneniber, ou the table, served nth many a dish, there's one reserved, lrtake of every one you see Ive that, which (like the Fatal Tree) ist in the centre I will place, tware of that! lest Adam's case lould be your own, and straight you go ^ok to your sickle, rake and hoe to the castle they w.re led, by a table richly spread, Af for a bacchanal carouse, Jffihold the pe&mnt and his spouse! "Bee," crlecf the woman, "what a treat! ir more, I'm sure, than we can eat tii such excess we well may spare in dish that's in the centre there!"

Vho cares for that th- peasant said, liile eagerly tno couple fed hm all the plates that round them lay.) ly dear, I wouldn't look that way "No harm in looking!" said the wife "I wouldn't touch it for my life." llpt In their minds, at length, there grew AjBtrong denlre for something new Whereat the woman said, "I wish I/knew what's hidden in that dish!" •jAnd, to be sure," the man replied, •THerely to look was not denied "•And even touching it," said she,

,r\Vere

no great harm, it seems to me foourse, I will not lilt the ltd who would know it if I did to suits the action to the word, Jien from the dish a little bird

Count had silly hidden there) 8me rushing forth into the air, A^id through the open window llew Ajid so it was the master knew What they had done. "Away!" be said 'sBack to the tleld and earn your bread Am you were wont—and ne'er complain iM Adam und of Evo again —IBY JOHNG.SAXK.

"One Too Many.'

BY CHRISTIAN REID.

l&uthor Valerie Aylmer" "Morton House,'' "Rom Beverley's Pledge," etc.]

CHAPTER V.

Whon Esthor oamo to herself out of the black gult'of unconsciousness into which Hhe had unoxpeotodly fallen, it was with a low, sighing gasp, as if with returning Ufa came also tho senso of returning pain. Then tho dark eyes opened witi. a wistful, startled look on a kind fact which was bending over her, and she Kit that kind lianas wero chafing hor fwn. "Hortense," she said but it was not Bortenso, only Ilortonso's maid. Maids, however, havo hearts sometimes as well as their mistressos—indeed, occasionally itio heart of the maid is rather an ini-

Sirovement

Suietly

Marie, on her part, looked after her, wondering a little and not a little indignant. "No more feeling than—than my flhoe," said sho to herself, as sho fell to work drenching Esther with altornat Shower-baths of water, ammonia an gologne. Servant though she was, the pale young sovereign had no more loyal tfubjoct than tho ono who bent over liei now. In truth, it might havo been said Ao be tho ohlef oharni of Esther's royalty that it was universal as charity itself. K« ono was too young or too "old, too rich or too poor, too lofty or too humble, fo acknowledge tho sweet spell of her gracious klndnoss or to pay unconscious Coinage to her magnetic sway. Queen regnant of hearts sho had been born, Slid he svould havo been a bold prophet Indeed who could havo vonturea to assort that tho sceptre would ever opart from her hand boforo tho light ladca for ®rer out of tho tendor eyos.

Jnto those oyes the light came slowly Ackeriuu baok now, like the flame of a tamp whoso fuel has been sorely spent Slid wasted, lleforo long, however, she ^as ablo to sit up, to smile faintly and tb thank her kind attendant in hor own ntle way. "I shall do very well now, __ Miss Ralston will need you. Don't lei tno detain you any longer," she said. Bat Mario was deaf to any such suggestions. Miss Ralston might want her. ghe thought that was a matter of vory pinall important*)compared with the necessity ot putting Esther safely in bed. IV) this, therefore, sho directed her attention, and it was astonishing how iofliy and altogether delightfully sho did lu "Marie serves you a thousand dines better than she serves inc." 11 ortonso had onoe said to Esther, ana it was fcrua onough. Love is a wonderful teacher of many things, and lovo's seroe has not only the oyes of Argns, but i« hands of Briareus, at its command.

Poor Marie, however, would have been horror-stricken if she had been able talook back into the chamber which she at last quitted with the consoling refection that she had done everything possible to securo for Esther the undisturbed rest she so much needed, and had Been this imprudent young person sit*ng up among the whit* draperies of tho bed, her eyes shining in her pale fcoo, a shawl thrown over her thinly4]ad shoulders, a portfolio open on her fcnoe, an ink bottle in a tilting position •n the counterpane, a pen in nor hand mud the gas flaring away as if for an ilftoMinatitm.

I cannot sleep unless I write to Erie fo-night," Esther was thinking. "It is eseloss to try. I must put the truth on

though, he trusts me. Surely he who fcas known me so long oannot think the terrible things which Hortense said.

aach things she put her hands ever ber face and shivered. "It makes ma sick oven to think of them. Ah! rhat terrible, what cruel stabs words ive! How oan I wako to-morrow, that I mast meet ber, and

SSlSIill

on that of tho mistress, tv

certainly proved in the present instance. When Miss Ralston found that But her had leaned back in her chair ami

fainted, sho was at first not a litstartlod, and llew eagerly 1 the bell |»ut whon the maid, who came hastily in reply to tho

summons,

reassured her

With regard to tho dangerous nature oi ftio attack, tho pendulum of feeling vibrated back to indignation point. She stood for a moment, then saying, "You oan go to Mrs. Harris"—this was the honsekoepor—"for any restoratives you want, Marie," sho swept trom the room With an imposing grandeur of presence, despite a certain tugging senso of shame at her heart which only rendered IHT •uoro angry with po»r unconscious EsCher.

read them in her eyes? How can I face Mr. Deverell after all she said But must not think of them. I must think of Eric now. Oh, how my head wanders, and hsw strangely it feels! 1 must tell the whole story to him, for I may be ill tomorrow, and then I cannot see him for ever so long and he may be thinking hardly of me all that time. E ric, dear Eric," she stretched out her trembling arms into vacancy as she spoke, there is nothing in the world I would not do to make you happy, bnt I am very weak a 11 useless. There is but one thing lean do for you, poor love, and mat is to take myself out 1 if your path for ever and this I shall do at once."

The Quivering, sensitive lipscokld lie resolute sometimes, and thej' looked resolute just then, as she begin to write. Heaven only knows at what a rate her pulse was galloping as her iand travelled over page alter page almost without cessation but the color which first came like a faint tinge into her cheeks deepened into vivid carmine belore sho let the pen drop from her weary fingers. »etoven then she did not pause—even then she was remorseless in her exactions from herself. Instead of simply thrusting away the oloselv-writton sheets, sue folded, sealed and ad-

Iressed them before she laid hor head down on tho pillows whicli'Marie had so irefully placed in a soft, iowny pile. "I will take it out early in the morning and mail it," sho thought.

Eric must get it without lelay. I cannot let him hi 11k badly of mo an hour longer than I must."

And so, after a few hours of broken leep, the gray winter dawn found her up and dressing with trembling, hasty lingers. Her eyes wero bright with feor, and it was the restlessness of fever, noro than anything else, -which was sending her forth. "Tho air will cool ny head, perhaps," sho was rellecting.

I can go to church, and mail this leter 011 my way. I must try to think what I can do, where I can go, for it is impossible to stay hereafter what llorenso said, and I cannot think in this horritte, close room."

So out of the horrible, close room, tvhicli was, in fact, a large and well-ven-tilated apartment, she took her way, Hitting

dawn

the broad, easy stairs, past an

istonished and sleepy servant who was unbarring tho hall do©r, and-out into tho chill morning air and quiet morning streets. Having dropped her letter into .1 box, from which ten minutes later a postman took it and crammed it into ,iis overflowing bag, she turned a corner tho street and walked several squares reeling with a sense of keen refreshment the breath of the damp air on her burning oheoks and temples, until at last she round herself 011 the stepsof oneof those .lark Gothic churches which the Germans especially build, and the pointed trchcs of whicli seem springing heavenrtiird, like tho faith they typify. "I think I love St. Victor's because it seems so foreign," Esther used to say to her lather. "It is like a fragment of the Old World transported to the New. Even tho people that ono meets there look quaint and foreign. Ono forgets that one is still in this commonplace America. The very sunlight that streams down on the tiled pavement md into tho shadowy nave has a peculiar mellow dimness of its own, and I tind myself looking forthe carved tombs of abbots

and

knights, and the shrines

of saints long dead." This morning, however, there was no sunlight in St. Victor's but tho fragrant gloom, through which a faint odor of incenso seemed ever lioating like a halfforgotton prayer, was full of ineffable repose to Esther's fevered body and disquieted mind. She could not command her thoughts sufficiently to pray, as prayer is generally understood—even the familiar beads of the rosary slipped unheeded through her fingers. Hut sometimes our inarticulate thoughts are better than any spoken words. Sometimes tho busy action of tho mind is lulled into a great calm, and out of the stillness rises a homage more eloquent than uttered praise. It was a senso of strangely perfect repose that came to Esther now—a lapsing away of feverish thought and feverish pain into a languor against which sho hau no power, n»r indeed anv desire, to strugglo. A mist, not terrible, *ut very pleasant, seemod rising around her, through which she dimly oaught the lustre of tho sanctuary lamp, like the love of a faithful heart, before the tabernacle. But after a timo things wavered still more. The priest in his golden vestments bowing bofore the altar of stainless marble, and the childish acolyte with his fairsweot face liko the pictures of St. Aloysius, kneeling on the steps, receded far away.

And it was this sense of gathering darkness that sent a thrill of uneasiness through Esther's trance of perfect calm. "Am I going to faint?" she thought, with a sudden tremor, a sudden realization of her imprudence in venturing so far from homo. Homo! The word framed itself unconsciously in her thoughts', and oven as it did so seemed to st#t her with a sense of her utter desolation. "Home! What have I but this?" was hor voiceless cry, as she stretched out her hands toward the sanctuary, hedged about with its divine reposo. "How can I go back to the house I quitted an hour ago? How can I bo tho cause of trouble to those who have been so kind to me? When I say that I must leave, will not Mr. Deverell interfere? and who can tell how deeply Hortense may resont his interference? Then the memory wf Eric came to her, and there are no words to tell how she shrank at the thought of him—shrank from tho pain of his presence, and from tho passionato veheinenco with which she knew ho would oppose her resolution. Sho felt how unequal her strength would prove in such a combat, and she recoiled from it with a sense of dread, which can bnt fointly be expressed in word*. Umid by nature, she was now rendered doubly timid by physical weakness. "I cannot—I cannot she thought putting hor bot, trembling hands before her face. "I cannot meet them. Icannot go througl all I must encounter. I can net resist Erio. He would only end by svorpowering mo, and we shonld both bo miserable. Oh, why oannot I go exit of their lives, completely and altogothar? Why can I no# depart from them lb rover—I, who seem to be s® useless, ao merely source of trouble and complication, so entirely one too many in the world If only I could be spared the pain of going back to them! If only

In his mercy would raise up a rofuge for ao! Any refuge, O unj ""J refuge where I oouid struggle and lire, or, better still, lie down ana die!"

It wss a ory of exceeding bitter, though

lis?

Mt7,

fmm

^sts

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

TIIKRE WAS NO SUNLIGHT IN ST. VICTOR'S.

uncomplaining, anguish—of desolation without hope, yet without despair— wli ch was wrung in almost articulate murmur from her lips. And God, who hears and perhaps heeds more than we think, heard this pitiful voico of human extremity and heeded it. "Any rofuge," she said, with that passionate intensity which the soul only puts into the prayer oh which everything is staked, with whioh it only pleads for some extreme necessity and He who was listening gave her, in his own timo and manner, the refuge which she asked.

It was only when morning had entirely slipped away into noon that Esther's absence fcegan to excite any serious comment in the Ralston household. Then Hortense, who had hanghtily silenced Marie when the latter came to her at breakfast, full of disquietude and concern, began to acknowledge to herself that it was very strange, thongh she spoke with sufficient lightness to others. "Miss French has probably gone out on business, or to see some friends," she said, carelessly, to her mother, whose surprise and interest were slightly awakened. But despite her apparent indifference, she was strangely restless, and started at every peal of the doorbell, thinking it must announce Esther's return.

I did not know that she had any friends," said Mrs. Ralston, in reply to this explanation "and as for business, can a child like that attend to business

Esther is not such a child as she looks," said Hortense, impatiently, "she told me a day 01 two ago that she had seen Mr. Hensel about some pictures. She may have seen him again."

But William says she went out at daybreak, and it is now one o'clock," *aid the elder lady. "She cannot possibly have been with Mr. Hensel all this time. Then she was so w^ak and ill all day yesterday. I thought her symptoms very like those of fever. She may have been taken ill somewhere, Hortense."

Well, mamma, how can I help it?" demanded

Hortenso

sharply. "Good

Heavens! have wo not been sufficiently tormented about this protege of

Mr.

Devorell's that you should worry yourself because sho chooses to go out and remain in this manner?"

I am sure I had not the least intention of worrying myself," said Mi's. Ralston, with dignity. "I roally thought that Miss French was a protege of yours as well as Mr. Deverell's.-' "She is nothing whatever to me," answered Hortense, coldly.

After this nothing more was said for somo time. Her mother was the last person in the world whom Hortense thought of taking into her confidence concorning the events of the evening bofore, and Mrs. Ralston had sufficient dignitv to abstain from asking questions, though sho was secretly not a littlo curious concerning this sudden and marked change of sentiment on her daughter's part.

Then camo anothor peal at the doorboll, which again made Hortense start, but it was only some visitors whose cards William brought up. "Mamma, be kind onsugh to excuse me,' said Miss Ralston, impatiently and when tho restraint of her mothers pressenco was removed, she sprang up and paced the floor in uncontrollable agitation.

What did it mean?" sho asked herself again and again, veering from intense anxiety to indignant anger—one while she recalled Esther's pale face and fever bright eyes, together with the deep swoon in which she had seen her last, and was inclined to think with Mrs. Ralston that some terrible ill must surely have befal en her the next minute her wrath flamed hotly again, remembering all that had occurred, and she was ready to hopo that one ao false and treacherous had indeed left without a farewell to the friend she had betrayed and the shelter she had abused. "Perhaps she has gone to Mr. Deverell," she thought, bitterly. "It would be like hor to appeal to his protection against me. ,0h, Esther, Esther," breaking in a gasping sob, "why don't you come ana give me the answer which all my accusations failed to wring from you last night? God knows your unsupported word would be enough for me, ao dearly have I learned to love you."

But Esther did not come. Instead, another hour relied over, giving no sign or token of her return. Mrs. Ralston,In the mean wbile, had ordered the carriage to pay some visits, and asked Hortense if she should call at Hensel's and

the poor young child," she said, for Esthers sweet charm had touched, after a fashion, even this unimpressionable fine-lady heart, "Justas you please, mamma," said Hortense, indifferently, for she had an instinct approaching to a certaintv that Esther would not be heard of at the artdealer's, and so Mrs. Ralston drove off busy and satisfied.

She was scarcely gone before Hortense went to her own room and put on a bat and jacket. To stay quietly in the

house had by this time become impossible to her. She must go somewhere and see something. If there was nothing else to be done, she would walk down to Mr. Deverell's office, she thought and as sho thought so

William

came to

her door with tho information that Mr. Deverell was in the library and desired to see hor. Just as she was—equip] for walking—she went down to him. At another moment she might have hesitated, remembering what he had heard of her, but now her mind was full of Esther and of his having come to speak of her, so that she descended the staircase and entered the library at once. Mr. Deverell was sitting by the fire in the same position and the same seat which he had occupicd the night before, and he arose to meet her quietly enough when she entered.

Are you going out, Hortense he asked, with a

glaDce

at her costume as

they shook hands. "Not now," said Hortense "not since you have come." Then she looked at him, and added, abruptly, "Have you seen or heard of Esther? Where is she?"

Of Esther?" he repeated, in evident surprise. "Why should I see or hear of her? Is she not in the house?" "No," answered Hortense, almost sharply, conscious a while of a sensation curiously compounded of relief and added anxiety "I thought berhaps she had gone to you. Sho left the house early this morning, and has not returned since.

Left the house!" Even at that mo ment Miss Ralston had time to observe how pale he grew. "What do you mean Where has she gone "What I mean I have already said," the girl answered, a little curtly. "Where she has gone I cannot tell vou, for she went out oofore any member of the household was awake, and has not returned since."

But did she see no one Did she leave no message She neither saw any one nor left any message. I"—a sudden flush came over her face—"I was with her last night, but she did not tell me that she meant to go anywhere. In fact, I should have thought her much to ill to attempt such a thing."

She was ill," be said, quickly. "Her hand when she bade mo good-night was hot with fever. She cannot have been in a fit condition to go anywhere today. But," impatiently, "you must know where she would be likely to go. Surely, therefore, you have made some inquiries about her." "I conceived that she was a free agent," Hortense answered, coldly "Therefore I should not have been likely to make inquiries about her absence,

them. I did not know, however, for you cannot have forgotten that Miss French was an entire stranger to me until she was Introduced by yourself."

Her change of manner could not have escaped the attention of a much more obtuse man than the one before her. She was almost sorry for having betrayed her present state of feelings so openly, when she felt his keen eyes reading her face as if it had been a printed book.

No, I have not forgotten it," he said, quietly "but unless my memory greatly errs, you thanked me yesterday for having given you such a friend as Esther French to-day you imply that her absence is a matter of no concern to you. MuBt I attribute such a sudden change entirely to the caprice to which tiio friendships of young ladies are proverbially subject, or will you be kind enough to explain it to me?" "Do I need to explain it to you she asked, teeing him steadily with her clear hazel eyes. "I am certainly unable to comprehend it," he answered coolly. "Then comprehend this," she said, quickly and passionately—"that if I had thanked you yesterday, for haying given me a friend, I ought to thank you today for having increased my knowledge of human nature by the acquaintance «f

started again, and she saw a flash of light come to his eyes, a wave of color to his face. He made a step forward, as if by sudden impulse, then checked himself and fel' back again.

I comprehend now, he said, coldly —"that is, I comprehend what direction your thoughts have taken. If you betrayed any of this feelingj to Miss French, I also understand exactly why she has left the house, and I bepe you will be kind enough to state precisely what occurred at the interview which you mentioned having bad with her last night. "I thought you would have heard the whole story from ber own lips bofore this," said Hortense, bitterly. "I wonder she did not go to you again, as she went to you last night." "Allow me to ask in what manner you learned that she came to me last night?" he demanded. If Esther had seen him at that moment, she would not doubted the capability of sternness in bis face or of fire in bis glance. He did not look a man to trifle with just then, and even Hortense, with all her haughty

pride, shrank baok a little. There is nothing more true than that women bully men only just as long as men refrain from turning round and bullying them. Then it is the exception, inaeecT when the bravest among them does not at once and ignominious'-y show the white feather.

Hortense did not exactly do this, for she was fearless to a fault, besides which she was so strong in her position as the deeply-injured party that she rebelled against such injustice, but she shrank a lit tie, as we have said, and answered more quietly than might have been expected:

The manner in which I learned it was very simple, and, I am glad to say,

Sor

iuite honorable. I came to the door a moment while Miss French was speaking to you. and afterward she herself admitted the fact of the interview, which in truth was indisputable."

And when you came to the door, did you hear the subject of what she was saying to me?" he asked, coolly and insifimgcantly.

She threw back her head with the air of a princess. Almost any man would have thought how grand she looked, with ber brilliant eyes and her glowing color, as she answered, defiantly,

I did." And having he^rd this, you still accuse her of threachery or of having been a spy upon you?" "Accuse her! Yes, I accused her to her face, and she dared not deny it!" cried the girl, stung to the quick by his looks and tones. "And yet it is she who can do no wrong in your eyes. It is she whom you believe unquestioningly, even when she comes to you with I know not of what falsehood on her lips. It is sho whom you trust so implicitly that even ber treachery to her betrothed husband and to me apparently seems to your noble and generous!"

Stop!" he said, in atone which awed even her passionate indignation. "Stop a moment. I did not come here to reproach you with any breach of faith to me. God knows," with the same inflection of self-contempt in his voice which Esther had caught the night before, "I ha\ neither the right nor the disposition to do so. But since you make such charges against Miss French, let me ask if you have no treachery to 3'ou betrothed husband of which to accuse yourself?" "None," she answered, calmly, not the least shadow of shame or fear in her steadfast, stately bearing. "Since I promised to marry you I have absolutely nothing with which to reproach myself. Neither in word nor manner have I ever suffered myself to forget for a moment your claim upon me. I do not speak of my heart," she added, bitterly, "oecause you have never made any claim bpon that."

Something in her words, or the tontp in which she uttered them, seemed to touch him suddenly and deeply. "God forgive me J" he said, as it were to himself. 'I hen he crossed quickly to her side and took one of ber hands. "Hortense," he said, kindly, "my poor child, will you try to forgive me I recognize what a great wrong I have done you— what a greater wrong I came near doing you. Is it any excuse that I thought to act for the best Hortense, is it true tliat the heart which I failed to touch another man has won?"

No, it is not true!" cried Hortense. starting angrily from him. "Esther had no right to dare say such a thing. If it is you who wish to be released from your engagement," she went on scornfully, "I shall not hesitate a moment to give you back your pledge. But say so frankly. Do not base.your own inconstancy on a pretended belief in mine."

Hortense I" Absolute)! amazement—amazement struggling with anger—prevented his uttering more than that one word for a second. Then, as he was about to speak, the door suddenly opened, and Eric Byrne walked unannounced into the room.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

BITS OF WISDOM.

No flowery road leads to glory.—[La Fontaine. The virtue lies in the struggle, not in the prize.—[R. M. Milnes.

Incredulity robs us of many pleasures and gives us nothing in return.—[Lowell.

How immense appear to us the sins that we have not committed.—[Mme. Necker. 1.1 $

There lives" more faith in honest doubt, believe men,than in half the creeds.—[Tennyson.

The most virtuous' of all men is he that contents himself with being virtuous without seeking to appear so.— [Plato.

Th® advantage to be derived from virtue is so evident that the wicked practice it from interested motives.—[Vanvanargues.

The general rule always holds good. In constitutional States liberty is a com-

Knsation

rjiHE

for the heaviness of taxation.

despotic States the equivalent for liberty is the lightness of taxation.—[Montesquieu.

To be nameless in worthy deeds exceeds an 'infamous history. The Canaanitish woman lives more happily without a name than Herodias with one and who would not rather have been the penitent thief than Pilate.—[Sir Thomas Brawne.

HOUSEHOLD HELPS.

Kerosene oil is goad for removing rust from cutlery. Water window plants with tepid water and Wash the leaves often.

Preserve eggs by a quick dipping in boiling water, and packing in fresh salt, end down.

Two cords of wood are about equal in heat-giving qualities to one ton of bituminous coal.

Linens oan be glased by adding a tecspoonful «f salt and one of finely scraped white soap to a pound of starch.

To each bowl of starch, before boiling, add a teaspoonful of Epsom salts. Articles prepared with this will be stiffer and in a measure fire proof.

In dealing with furniture, remember to keep water away from everything soluble therein, oil from eveiything porous, alcohol from varnish, and acids from marble.

Saturate sponges with water and stand them on plates around and among the window plants. The object is to supply moisture to neutralize the effects of stove and furnace heat.

If possible, buy an oil-cloth that has been made for several years, as the longer it has lain unwashed the better it will bear, tho paint being harder. Never scrub. Sweep with a soft hair brush, and wash with a soft cleth dipped in milk and water. Don!t use soap. Rub dry with a handftil of rags.

8ehuol Touchers

Caa employ their leisure time profitably by canvassing tor the Saturday Kvening Mail and its Chromoa. Send for circular of nstructions.

Saturday Evening,

MAIL,

FOR THE YEAR

1875.

A MODEL WEEKLY PAPER FOR THE HOME.

TERMS:

One year, (with chromo) J2 Blx month*, (without chromo) SI Three mouths, (without chromo) 50 ct

Mail and office Subscriptions will, invari-t ably, be discontinued at expiration of time» paid for.

Encouraged by the extraordinary success which has attended the publication of THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, the publisherhas perfected arrangements by which it' will henceforth be one of the most popular!* papers in the West.

Is a beautiful little girl, with ene of t^ie sweetest of faces, gathering lilies in the field. One is a wood soene, the other has an open meadow in the back ground. They are of striking beauty.

For one dollar extra (83.00 in nil,) we will send The Mail one year and both chromos mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold IN tho art stores at FOUR DOLLARS EACH.

FRAMES.*-

We have made arrangements with an ex-^ tensive manufactory of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a frame usually sold for SI

SEMI-WEEKLY.

Semi- Weekly New York TVibune, price £3.00, The Mail and Chromo W 50

WEEKLY PAPERS.

Indianapolis Journal, price 82.00, The Mall and Clirwmo 83 5§ Indianapolis Sentinel, price $2.00, The

Mail and Chromo 3 69 y. Y. Tribune, price 82.00, The Mail and a Chromo 3 5#» Toledo Blade, price #2.00, The Mail and

asuf

'iSM

THE CHOICE OF

Two Beautiful Chromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and after this date. Thes beautiful pictures just from the hands of the French chrome?:" artists, are falthAil copies of oil paintings by 5 the artist W. H. Baker, of Brooklyn. One, entitled

1. 'Cherry Time" *iK1

Represents a bright faced boy, coming from •. the orohard, bountifully laden with the red'/ ripe fruit. The other, entitled

"Lily of the Field"

.50 and 1.75. These frames are of

the best polished walnut and gilt. Here is the. BILL OF PRICES. The Mall one year and choice of Chromo W 00 The Mail one year and Both Chromos mounted 8 00' The Mall one year and Both Chromos

FRAMED 5 00

THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL is an Independent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed ou eight pages of book paper, and aims to be, in every sense, a Family Paper. With tills aim in view, nothing will appear in its columns that cannot be read aloudln,, the mot-t refined fireside circle.

CLUBBING WITH OTHER PERIODICALS. We are enabled to offer extraordinary Inducements in the way of dubbing with other periodicals. We will furnish THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, PRICE 82.00 PER YEAR, and either of tho above Chromos with any of the periodicals enumerated below at greatly reduced rates. These periodicals will be sent direct from the offices of publication. Ilere is the list:

Chromo 8 60^ JV. Y. Sun, The Mall and Chremo 8 00 Prairie Farmer, price 82.00, The Mall and Chromo .' 8 66 Western Rural, price 82.50,

TheM all and

Chromo 3 50 Chicago Advance, prioe 83.00, The Mail and Chromo 4 59 Chicago Interim•, price 82.60, Tho Mail and Chromo 4 00 Chicago Inter-Oeean, price 81.50, Tho

Mail and Chromo 8 26 Appleton's Journal, price 84.00, Tho Mall and Chromo 5 25, Rural New Yorker, price 88.00, The Mall and Chromo. 4 25 Hearth and Home, price 83.00, The Mail and Chromo...*.., 4 60 Methodist, prioe 82.50, Tho Mall and

Chromo 3 60 Harper's Weekly, price 84.00, The Mail and Chromo— 5 8# Harper's Bazar, price 84.00, The Mall and Chromo.. 5 SO Frank LesHes Illustrated Newspaper, price 84.80, The Mall and Chromo 6 00 Leslies Chimney Comer, price 84.00, The

Mail and Chremo 6 0t Boys' and Girls' Weekly, prioe 82X0, the Mall

fall and Chromo 8 75

MONTHLIES.

Arthur's Home iSagasine, price 82.50, The Mail and Chromo 84 00 Peterson's Magawine, price 82,00, The

Mall and Chromo 3 60 American AgricsUtosrist, price 81.50, The Mail and Chromo 8 00 Demorest's MotUhiy, price 88,00, 1 year,

The Mail awdChrwmo„ 4 35 Oodeu's Ias&s Book, price 83.00, The Mall and Chromo 4 50 Little Corporal, price 81

JO,The Mall and

Chromo 3 60 Bcribner's Monthly, price 84.00, The Mall and Chromo. 2® Atlantic Monthly, price 84.00, The Mail and Chromo. 6 20 Old and New, prtee 84X0, The Mall and

Chromo 6 00 Overland MtmthMy, price 84.00, The Mall and Chromo 5 €0 Harper's Ma&ulne, prioe 84.00, The Mail and Chromo. .......—5

Gardener's Monthly, price KM, The Mall and Chromo 3 60 Young Folks Rural, The Mall and Chromo...... 2 To The Nursery, price 81^0, The Mall and

Chromo.- 3 10 St. Nicholas, prtee 88u00, The Mail and Chromo— 4 40

Alltheprrmimmt offered by the above pub Mcations are Included in this clubbing arrangement. .«

CLUBBING WITH COUNTY PAPERS. We have mode arrangements to furnish THE MAIL, with CJhromo, and any one of the Newspapeis tn the neighborhood of Terre Haute aU tor IBM. 4,

JUffP I/X)K AT IT!

The Mail, prise, -v Jjf Your County paper, price.... 20s The OtaramO, worth

Total,

Ail UMse~pJft)-fc» 83.00. ..