Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 37, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 March 1875 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

"ONL YA FARMER'S DA UQHTER: "Sht *8 only a farm-T's daughter," A stylish lady said. With a scornful fiance of tier handsome eye,

And a toss of her haughty head.

She frilled and flounced and furbclewed In the very latest stylo Her head wa- a wonderof crimps and curls,

And her train something less than a mile.

Her hands that sparkled with many a ring, Were shapely and fair to view— As they well might be. for no useful work

Were they ever allowed to do.

To hear her talk of the "lower class," Of

ihelr

sins against propriety,

Of 'her family,'' and of "country girls," And her horror of "mixed society."

One

would think that among her ancestry She numbered at least an Karl (Her father was once a carpenter,

And her mother a factory girl.)

They say she Is brilliant and beautiful I will not their words deny Bat ah! the farmer's daughter

Is fairer by far to my eye.

She Is not in the height of fashion, But is very becomingly dressed, With flounces enough for comfort.

And they look as if made of the best.

Mirth and innoeent happiness Out mi her blue eye* shine Her hair is uutortured by crimps and curls.

And she wears it by right divine.

No mother tolls in the kitchen for her, \Vlille she on the sofa lolls. Novel in hand, dressed in her best,

Receiving her morning calls.

A share In the heat and the burden of life Hhe willingly, eheerfully takes, And duty, and love, in that happy home,

A pleasure of labor makes.

And though you may smile at this curious fact I have seen her with lioe in her hand, While she planted the corn, or waged war on the weeds,

When man's help wnsscarcein the land

And her flowers-well, next summer you'll see them yourself, As you ride past the farm on the prairie, And mark the "home, cbvered with roses and vines.

The work of this Martha or Mary.

And I'm sure you will say, spite the verdict of tlio.se Who llveout In fashion's gay whirl, That "only a farmer's daughter" means

Only a sensible girl!

The Story of Rose.

A little brown woman standing boldly relieved against the shadow of a doorway in a little brown house. Chestnut hair has Hhe, and great wooday brown oyes, with limpid lights and unquiet shadowH, like the little brown brook in the meadow. A cheap print whose ground plan is a solid expanse of brown, and wnich is besprinkled lavishly with tiny scarlet and yellow autumn leavos, is fashioned into a wrapper whose, every fold presses itself into sliapo over the trim, short figure. A look of expectancy in the wooday brown eyes and two poppy-burwt cheeks tell their story ably.

And whilo ho is yet coming, and you may gaze your lill'at the tropical-hued robe and "the flaming face, let me tell you more about her. Her name, to begin with, is Rose Van Dyke, a nico old name enough, with associations of tubes of color and still-jointed manikins oasles and sable-points and satiny folds of brown, a name that belonged to her good old father, who, dying live years ago, left it to ner with his blessing. And upon this scant heritage tho little brown maiden thrived and metamorphosed into tho little brown woman, who faught country bumpkins their first principles, and was well paid for it.

And it was well for her that she had Jmtevery extra penny by, woman-fiisb ion. in a precious cracked tea-pot on a higu shell well, indeed, she thought, since Terese Van Tassel, a far-off orphanod cousin, had been thrown on her hands, and was coming to sharo her hearth and home with her on tho morrow. Meanwhile-—

A hush was in the very air. Up from tho villago that nestled" at the mountain's baso thore came tho soft chime of tho clock in tho church tower—fivo, six, seven! And tho echoes had not yet rolled their silvery waves of sound beyond her alert ears before the quick tread of advancing footsteps set her heart beating wildly and she turned her faco from tho doorway l# gain lime—it was so llushed with joy.

Looking for anyone, Miss Van Dyke?" asked a very pleasant, rich voice, in a very matter-of-fact manner.

Yes, Mr. Ijeo, I was looking for 3-011," she answered, simply. "Forme?" with an affected tingo of surprise in his voice. "How did you know—how came you to think I was coming

Thoro is tho theory of mental telegraphy," she answered, drawing down tlio creamy covering of her eyes. 2"Oh!" ho vouchsafed, at length, but seeming unsatisfied with her answer. •4 What a simple little soul it is!" is his inward ol»sorvation "so sweet and fresh and art less! She has won a place in my heart of heart*, and I shall enthrone her thero whenever the love light in the brown eyes grows from a dancing willo* wisp to a steadier glow"

And her thoughts ran riot. "Will he never, never know? Oh, to bo a woman—to sit and mojw ono's life away and let the grand opportunities be lost! Not daring to stir toward the haven of one's

desire—

not daring to lift a hand as

the idol passes—poor blind idols that will go by unoon*«ious, and crush our hearts out in the passing!"

How goes the school, Mitw Van Pvke?" be ask»d. looking at the queer frown that knotted itself upon her foro-

The school Bah! I'm sick of the school—tired, tired, tired!" a little vengofullv. "But it goesalong smoothly enough, of course, and will continue In the monotonous tenor of its way, until

Until what lie asked, tho surprise all real now, a little anxious at her hesitation.

Well, until my oeusin armj*—and she may put me ont some." "Your cousin!" tliitging etiquette to the dogs.

Yes, "ir

orphan, if you please.

Philip Ix*o did not seem to please. The coming of this orphan child mrant to him a breaking in, in some way, upon their quiet talks and his study of her. She waa a chaiming study to him and when he was just beginning to turn the first leaves of this interesting book, in must come some stranger to oreak up his lessons piecemeal.

HoW old hi she, Miss Van Dyke?" feeling as if he must say something on the subject of the interloper. liuieed I cannot tell somewhere between ten and twenty I shoaid judge thi- 1 ..owed by a dolorous sigh.

Atvyou not well—Ah, what would nave given to have been free to hot l»Uie«*i world of endearment frmn its i**rch on tho tip of his sad."

he let alid tot 1 I "Vouwcm alckor:

I am weary. This teaohing la tiresome work and then it is lonely here on the hill when-

He turned those perverse eyes of uls, th would mirror his soul in spite of bim, toward the open door, and waited for the conclusion of her sentence.

But she did not finish. They stay thero in quiet, these two, with glances wide apart. It pleased him that this shy being should show her preference ot him oefore he spoke of sentiment.

Of course there was a reason for this, and what this reason was is quickly told. He had, years ago, loved with a young man's, fiery passion a creature cold as ice, keen as a lawyer, as heartless as a sphinx. But the passionate dame burnt high, and tho incense sur rounded the adored one, and clothed her In a halo of glory.

And when the vision spoke, and the altar tumbled at her touch when the incense melted from before his blinded eyes and his soul saw her as she was tho flame in his heart smouldered and died, leaving naught to show fnr it save a scar. And tue old axiom of t»e burnt dog dreading fire proved a verity in his case for, in his dealings with Miss Van Dyke, he clung to the mainland of facts, and kept from tho dangerous ground of fancies.

They had known each other some half a dozen months, and he had -ailed upon her 011 an average of twice each week, and sometimes oftoner for 011 Sabbath evenings he walked beside her to and from church. He ha 1 como to unravel a little tangled thread of her inner lile, and of that little skein he wovo a web around and about himself from which he could not escapo. He did not care to escape, in fact, but kept weaving the threads wiih which she unwittingly supplied him like a human cocoon.

On this evening of which I write, he had come to her with a plan in his head. I can get her to speak out now," he thought, and, thinking this, he said, rather hurriedly, as if waiting longer to hear what she might say were a thing impossible

By the way, Miss Van Dyke, I am going away. Alay I hope that you will not l'orget"1110

Away! she had never thought anything could change in this dull, sleepy suburb—and now the greatest change that could happen had come to her. Going away!

There was no outcry, although tho heart buried under tho flaming calico autumn leaves went throbbing on as il it were a hammor. Into the eyes crept a look of inlinito yearning, but he saw it not, for tbe womanly pride carao to her rescue, and her glance went roviug over the fadev flowers in the three-ply carpet boncath'them.

I hope I shall not be forgotten?" he repeatea. "Oh, no, Mr. Lee,"sho rep.lied, more absent-minded at this instant than any dullard among her pupils.

Thank you. ell, I must bo off. Tho train leaves in half an hour, and I just flew up here to bid you good-bye."

The train! Good-byo! Absent-mind-ed no longer, but with senses fearfully alert, she reached out her hand to him in farewell. A touch of her finger-tips thrilled him through and through. What a warm little hand it was that be held within his own for a second's space. Still, she had disappointed him lie had felt sure of an outspoken word of sorrow at his absence, but she was silent. He dropped her hand, turned about, and left the house. "Oh, Philip! Philip!" she cried, spurred on to desperation. And the cry came to him as ne passed the open window and stopped him short. He turned on his heel and came back.

The gray gloaming was almost swallowed up by tho night. Away into a corner whore there was least light tho little brown woman had dragged herself aiid crouched down, her heart numb with a silent agony but. hearing his step, hho arose and stood waiting for him. "You called me, Miss Rose?" her christened name coming out despite himself.

Yes, I called you. Philip Lee, you have boon a good friend to #10, and if you nevor come back again, remember there is one who names you in her every prayer, and who thanks you with her every breath for your considerate kindness* I have been alono so long," she went ®n quickly, "that a friend, suck as you have been to me, seems heaven sent. Lot mo thank you again!" She was standing before him now., looking with great liquid eyes straight into his faee.

No more than a friond to yon—may I not be nearer than that?" At this her eyes filled with tears, and clasping two small hands before them she stood there, crying quietly. "I must go—Rose—little one. Only say, may I sometime be nearer than a friend The tearu were more than he could bear.

When you are sure that you wish it, —ves, Philip." lie had left after kissing, in knightly fashion, her hand—thereby glorifying, in her eyes, that small member for evermore—and had been just in time to catch the upcoming'train, which whirled him away to tho metropolis. Here be stayed two weeks, up to his ears in business, but never so engaged as to lose from before his mental vision the exact color and shape of a pair of very haunting brown eyes. But ho would not write to her. "Perhaps the little spark I have kindled," he said to himselT may be coaxed into aflame if I do not be too rashand he let "nothing venture. nothing have," alono with all bis might.

On the day succeeding his departure eame Terese Van Tassel, who. to the infinite surprise and dismay of Miss Rose, proved herself to be—Instead of the child she was expecting—a woman grown: indeed, one year older than her would-be adopter herself.

How strange it is, Tereae," ahe said, in her blunt, home-truihy way, "that you should have looked for a protector in me! And your respected guardian wrote to me that I could take care of you, he supposed, as he heard, I waa making money in the little school. How absurd all this twaddle I take care of a big, stately, strongly-built woman, fully as able to w«rk as 1? Had he never seen you, Terese, this guardian?"

Terese had listened with eyes as full of amazement at this speech as wellbred eyes could consent to be and at this last question ahe turned her fair, haughty face languid lv away from the little brown bundle or candor, and said, with the least possible hint of contempt in her voiec, "why, yes, Hose, of course he has."

And be thought you would come to me tor succor, and* would not try to fight the world's

!*»ttl«

for yourself?"

laughing, but somewhat anxious, nevertheless. I could not fight that battle,'Rose I am not fit to volunteer."

Fitt" her voice demanding an explanation. Oh, what oould I do and she held out two very long-fingered, aristocraticlooking hands as a piteous reason for her mtatUnera." 'You would have taken 1110 had I been the child you expected— take me now, Rose, dear, and I will ly repay yuire^- "to you, nelp

be your companion, you about the house

TERRE AUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

but pray don't turn me out npen the world 1" And BO Rose kept the tall, queenly irl as her companion never guessing her innocent heart that she waa a creature cold as ice, keen aa a lawyer, heartless as a sphinx.

And Miss Van Tassel ate humble pie in the sweet, dependent manner all her own did what she could to help Rose outwardly all civility, inwardly something eutirely different.

Rose was Busy as a nailor with her school, which was to close the next w» ek, and hence got small chance to gossip* with Terese or grow in any way familiar. Not that Tereso minded her inattention in the least as tar pa gossiping went, for she was a woman with a still tongue, and had not come clear to this out-of-the-way plaoe on the plea of orphanage lor the purpose of letting the subject nearest and dearest her heart leak out. So they went their ways until vacation came, and Rose, bringing her armful of day-books and mementoes iroiu each loving child-heart, came home lor three months' rest.

Then they walked and talked together Rose joyous and unrestrained as any uncaged wren, and chatting and laughing us if her whole lile were taking a holiday.

But it all ended one day, when the curved, high bred lips of Miss Van Tassel opened and sent a little sentence like a barbed arrow straight into tho guileless heart ol' her cousin. They had been speaking of Rose's friends, and Philip Leo had been brought up before the bai, his friendship weighed and his kindness measured, when Terese, who had been listening greedily, said, throwing in her voice an alfeotation of deep suprise

You cannot mean it, Rose, when you tell uie that Mr. Lee came here to sue you so often

Of course, Terese, I mean it," ut a loss to understand her. And what did the paople say of all this?" cutting outlier words in a cruelly keen manner. "The people say? Why, Terese, whatever tbe people may have said about it, they did not trouble me with their opinions. I have 110 company, you see, dear they know I am too busy."

Too—'' but she kept that thought to herself. "My darling Rose," she went 011, smiling a grim smile down at this little adopter as she walked along beside her down tho steep hilly road,

Rose, durling, you have sore need of advice. My companionship may be of service to you, after all." And she coolly laid before her the gossip she said she had gleaned from the littlo suburb where "people will talk."

You seem to have made many friends hereabouts?" said Rose, in a voice changed to that of an old, old woman.

Only tho washerwoman and the soxton up at the chapel," gazing pitilessly upon the chestnut braid-crowned head that came not oven so high as her shoulder.

And they told you that?" "They told mo that others said so— indeed almost every one 011 the hill."

And he must have known it—and he kept coming, coming. Heaven! how base he must think me!"

You should have hired some old woman to live with you. Then 'twould have been eminently respectableto have received young gentlemen callers as it is

Say no more, Terese, let us go back." And the uncaged wren carried home with her a heart shot through with the arrow of slander.

After that Rose carolled no more gay songs of love and war, but sat within doors. While Terese, whose spirits when put in the balance of those of her cousin grew high and light, when roaming about always taking the towrfward track.

One night, when the pale young moon hung a silver sabre against an opal sky, there came a steady tramp of footsteps toward Terese, who had gone wandering down through the grey gloaming of the grassy front yard. Swiftly she turn ed and opening wide her outstretched arms held them so in mute entreaty until he came. With a cry of ecstacy he clasped her to his heart and rained kisses upon her high, fair brow.

My darling, once again I am with you! Oh, the weary hours of absonce— never send uie away—nover let me go again, dearest!"

I never will, Philip," this in a scarcely audible whisper. The dews are damp little 0110, let us within and capturing the slender lands Philip guides her to the open door through Philip sees a dim light from a solitary candlo in the inner room.

Here," she whispers, motioning him to a seat upon the doorstep. He obeys, happy at being so commanded.

The fickle moon has hidden her face behind a fast coming storm-cloud, and the miserable candle flickers and flares in the weak draught between window and door. He cannot see a feature of the loved one, but her keen eyes pierce through the darkening gloom andf feast themselves upon a face, handsome and masterful, a face she has been searching for over a year.

Ohf my littlo primrose, I could not keep the secret of my love from you! Will vou accept it, dear, and let mo have the sunshine of your presence ever about me?

And his only answer is a creeping of a hand into his own. Holding this treasure fast, he talks on about his brightened future, and his low, rich voice fills the small cottage, and echoes its pleasant music through the rooms.

And when the clock tolled tho ninth hour he was still talking, too hnppy to wonder at the quietude of tbe cbosen one at his side, too filled with busy thought to notice the little figure standing oehind him. But when time came, and he rose to take leave of her, be found the storm had arisen in furv, and muttering of the black artillery of inky clouds came rolling down from tho western coast of heaven.

He turned about and faced the doorway. Then came a flash of a mischievous streak of lightning which made the place all about him like the day. And tn that second's time he saw the hands he held were not the hands »f ROM, who stood, a soul-stricken wrath in tbe black doorway.

Phiiip," she said, her voice pinched and uncertain, "You should have told Hie.

Did you think I would stand in your way, my friend? You are unjust —nay, more, you are unkind. I would have helped you had you let me know all this, for

you

nave given more than I can

ever repay. You are cruel, too, Terese am I not to be trusted, then Go away now, Philip, for

Terese

must come with

in, else people will talk. Ah, heaven, go!" As one blinded and stricken with a greet woe, too deep for speech, Philip Lee turned about and went out under tbe pall of wide-spreading rain clouds.

You did not guess our secret then Terese asked of ner cousin, as she rose and followed her Into the house.

But there came no answer. The poor, little tired body grew too burdened with tbe great suffering soul to contain it, and she fell across the bed in a dead faint.

Miss Van Tassel, among other of her'

pitiful characteristics, had that of oxcessive fright at even the appearance of doath as, seeing the white, drawn lines about the mouth of the poor, drooping Rose, she ran to tho door, and gave ono great about for PhiUp. In the flash that followed she saw him coming, striding* rt

fiercely alone rain.

through the pelting without a worn,

He passed her without a word, and

hastened to tbe bedside whero his soul's idol lay stretched out, looking strangely long in tho folds of her milk-white gown. "You have killed ber, you wretched woman! Curse you, you nave blighted my life, and you must needs end your

Ah!" this from Rose, a deep-drawn sigh at the struggle of the soul to regain its tenement. "Out of her sight!" he whispered hoarsely, pointing to the door of the inner room. And the soul of the little woman at last gained the mastery her eyes opened again upon tho familiar things about her.

Turning her face from the wall, she met tho tender, anxious gaze of Philip Lee, as he knelt at her side. He touched his fingers to her lips to command silence, ana told his story to her. ."Philip!" the old-wanish tones all one, ana her voice, although but a very aint voice just now, was sweet in its cadence, as a bird-song. "I cannot blame her, dear, for having loved you. But, oh, to love you and lose you!"

She never loved mo lor myself, as you have done, primrose my store of worldly wealth has been her chief attraction. Stupid fool that I was to have ever mistaken her for you!" angry with, as well as feeling an utter contempt for himself.

Worldly wealth looking hard at him as if she would discover 111 his face this new-found quality.

Yes, darling, I am sorry to spoil your life's romance by not letting you work those tiny fingers off for me but it is an absolute fact," he continued, with a laugh of exquisite enjoyment at her big, amazed eyes. "You have heard, no doubt, of the great mogul ot our bonny state—Gov. Philip Lee? Well, dear, I am Philip second, and no fitter ornament could I wear than my sweet blooming Rose." And he drew her head to where upon right royal breasts there flourish tho crosses of honor.

He laughed at her fears about the people, but stayed not until the storm nad worn itself out, leaving at the tenth stroke of the town-clock.

And when he raised the face to his and gave her a first kiss oi sacred, sol emu betrothal, a pair of blue eyes flashed upon them in livid wrath and hatred, and out into the night there stole a cloaked and hatted figure that never again brought its baleful presence into their lives.

A. WASHINGTON CUSTOM. Anna 8. lMmmock in Boston Globe.] I always felt the deepest sympathy for that wretched Ephraimite whoso miserable tongue betrayed him whoa only a narrow brook lajr between him and safety, but since coming to Washington I find one kink in its social vernacular quite as hard for Yankee utterance as "Shibboleth" was to that provincial Israelite. We, who live north of Mason and Dixon's line, are accustomed that morniiig hours only extend to 12 o'clock here I discover that, though the sunset rays make crimson the western clouds, i. a 4.1 4-U^

friend at four o'clock with a hearty "Good afternoon! how do you do?" Your friend don't like to tell you that you are green, but she throws most decided emphasis into her responding salutation "r* "Good morning," etc., and manages, ot in the course of three minutes to repeat "morning" at least four times. Well! you feel corrected, and resolve not to say "Good afternoon" again, but you will, every time. You array youself for the round, of Cabinet calls you think over your company manners, recollect nice little phrases to utter, go triumphantly through the entrance at Jthe first bouse, chat with your friends, and, undertaking the exit, find yoursell floored by saying'"Good afternoon" to your hostess, who responds again with that dreadful "Good morning." Everybody who hears you knows that you have been in the habit of eating your dinner at noon, which, in this day and generation, is a serious offence! Never mind it is your shibboleth, and you are a Yankee, "too independent to really care for any such local usage," you say, tossing your head, but you aren't!

BROKEN FRIENDSHIP. Friendship is a good deal like china. It is very durable and beautiful so long as it is quite whole but break it, and all the cement in the world will not quite repair tho damages. You may stick the ipieces together so that, at a distance, it looks nearly as well as ever but it won't hold hot water. It is always ready to deceive you if you trust it and it is, on the whole, a very worthless thing, fit only to bo set empty upon a shelf, and forgotten there. The finer and more delicate it is, the more utter tho ruin. A mere acquaintance, which needs only a littlo ill-humor to break it up, may be coarselv puttied like that old yellow basin in the store closet but tenderness, and trust, and sweet exchange of confidence, can no more be yours when angry words and thoughts have broken them, than can* those delicate porcelain tea-cups which were splintered to pieces bo restored to their original handsome excellence. The slightest crack will spoil tho true ring, and you had better search for anew friend than try to mend the old one. And all this has nothing to do with forgiveness. One may forgive and be forgiven, but the deed has been done and tbe word said the flowers and gilding are gone. The formal "making up," especially between two women, is of no more avail than tbe wonderful oemente that have made a cracked ugliness of the china vase that you expected to be your "joy forever." Handled delicately, washed to purity in tbe waters of truth, confided to no careless, unsympathizing hands, friendship may last two lives out but it "does not pay" to try to mend it. Once broken, it is spoiled forever. pm

YES, HANO HIM! find. nerald.J

Oh, hang him! Do hang him! We mean Mr. George Vincent, a murderous fool of Selma, this State. Ho didn't know whether it was loaded or not, but waa bound to ascertain. 80 he snapped It at different members of the family, and was settling down to a firm belief that it was no/ loaded, when, having it pointed at Jonathan Blakely.be pulled the trigger once more, and tbe old man tumbled over, dead for a ducat. Of course Mr. Vincent is sorry. But ho had to satisfy himself whether it waa loaded or not. and it was the old man's misfortune that he presented so fair a mark. We insist on having Mr. Vincent bung. The people have a laudable curiowtv to see if bis neck will' break in a four foot fall. Oh hang bim!

8eccES« has a great tendency to conceal and throw a veil over the evil deeds of men.

A POISONER'S NOTE BOOK. A curious document, of special interest to tho students of psychology, is a note b«ok containing the last thoughts and reflections of Moreau, the herbalist, who was recently guillotined for poisoning his two wives. Subjoined area few extracts:

Sept. 7. I have no more hope, but I should like to die pluckily. Shall I suffer after execution? Does the body or the head feel anything after? It is said that when the knife foils you are already dead. It is frightful!"

Sept. 13. I have no grudge against tbe executioner. He only does his duty. I will ask to shake his hand, to show that I forgive him. I don't know him, but I should like to know what sort of a man he is."

Sept. 17. I knew Ileindrech, tbe former executioner, well. He was very polite and very gentle. I remember that when he guillotined Lapoinmeraye he addressed him as 'Monsieur' several times. I also saw him guillotine-Tropp-mann, who resisted. lie said to him, 'Now be quiet, like a good boy I' But 1 don't know my executioner. What a terrible thing it must be when he puts his hand on your shoulder!"

Sept. 28. It will soon be over—perhaps to-morrow. They have been very kind to me. They have taken off my strait jacket tu let me write. They lent me books. However, yesterday, when I asked for the Dernier Jour d'tm Cbndamtie, they refused it me."

Oct. 9. I should like to know what the Figaro and Gaulois say about me. They must have ferreted out my existence, as they always do. Who would have said I should ever be in those papers?"

Le Figaro, from which these extracts are taken,adds: "Three days later the head of Moreau lell into the basket."

THE GOOD OLD TIMES The Springfield (Mass.) Reputmcun says that Mr. Samuel Lawrence, founder of the City of Lawrence, recently entertained the Lee Literary Club with an hour's familiar talk, contrasting old times with the present. He dwelt particularly on the circumstances and customs of tho period just succeeding tho revolutionary war, when not a pound of cotton had been raised in this country, not a car-load of coal exhumed from tho mines, not a steamship traversed our waters. The fabrics of the country were mostly spun and wove in families, each farmer raising flax and wool, tho mother of the family generally spinning the former on tbe little wheel, while the daughter walked backward and forward by the% side of the big wheel, singing hymns or repeating poetry. Eacn farm established nad a loom, which, in some instances, was kept running the year round to supply bed and

Kersonal

rj* HE

clothing, stacks of the former

eing piled up for the wedding days of the daughters. Oxen were used for all farm work and horses mainly for riding horseback, the women either riding singly on side-saddles or on pillions behind their husbands, brothers and sweethearts. Often a hundred women came to one church on horseback. The salary of the President of Harvard University, after the institution had been in successful operation for over 100 years, was £100 New England currency, or $333%, and this commanded the services of the best scholars of Oxford and Cambridge. Mr. Lawrence, after an experience of more than three score and ten years, gives his decided preference for modern time.9. The comforts of life are four-fold more than they used to be, and there is less of intemperance, profanity and kindred vices. TV-'

"WHAT FATHER TAKES."—There is food for thought in tho story that is told of a young lad, who for the first time, accompanied his father to a public dinner. The waiter asked him: "What will you take to drink Hesitating for a moment, he replied: "I'll take what father takes." The answer reached his father's ear, and instantly the full responsibility of his position flashed upon bim. Quicker than lightning various thoughts passed through his mind, and in a moment his decision was made and in tones tremulous with emotion, and to the astonishment of those who were acquainted with him, be said: -Waiter, I'll take water."

,u-„ (H* I RELY UPON SELF.—Don't rely upon friends. Don't rely upon the name of your ancestors. Thousands have spent the prime of life in the vain hope of help from those whom they called friends, and thousands have starved because they had a rich father. Rely upon the good name which is made by your own exertions, and know that better than the best friends you can have is unuestionablo determination, united with ision of character.

"Ciierry Time" ... —AND— "Lily of tho Field."

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We will send a copy of either of our premium Chromo* to every p*noa sending us the names of three new yearly subscriber* with the money, six dollars, also giving the pictures to each of the three subscribers. Almost any one can in this way secure this beautiful work of art without it costing them anything. ':l ,t .v"

Look at the Offer.

To every new yearly subscriber t» The Hail, and to each old subscriber who renews, is given a magnificent chromo, usually sold at S4, and the paper, costing 82, making 98 worth In all, for only 82. Tell your friends about it! Get the best paper published In tbe State for one year, and an expensive picture—all fort2. *.'?

~"-h

Ladies at Home

Can earn from 910 to MO a week, canvassing far Jthe Saturday Evening Mail and its charming Chromos. Hee prospectus In another column, and send for circular of In-j stniatlons. Or better still, send Two Pol-} lars far outfit and commence work immedlataly.

Saturday Ey^pijig

MAIL,

FOR THE YEAR

iii

1875.

A MODEL WEEKLY PAPER FOR THE HOME.

TERMS:

One year, (with chromo) S2 00 Six months, (without chromo) SI 00 Three months, (without chromo) .56 cts.

Mall and office Subscriptions will, invariably, be discontinued at expiration ef time paid for.

Encouraged by the extraordinary success which bas attended the publication of THE. SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, the publish-! er has perfected arrangements by which It 1 will henceforth be one of the most popular papers in the West.

THE CHOICE OP

Two BeautiM Chromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and alter this date. Thesv beautiful pictures just from the hands of the French chromo artists, are faithful oopies of oil paintings by the artist W. H. Baker, of Brooklyn. One, entitled

''Cherry Time"'

Represents a bright faced boy, coming from the orchard, bountifully laden with the redripe fruit. The other, entitled

"lily of the Field"

Is a beautiful little girl, with ene of the 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 ($3.00 In all,) we will send Tbe Mall one year and both chromos mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold 1M tho art stores at FOUR DOLLARS EACH. v' wt'r m$A Vi1,jiPRAMES. -W:

We have made arrangements with an extensive manufactory of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a frame usually sold for S1.50 and 11.75. These frames are of the best polished walnutand gilt. Here is the

BILL OF PRICES.

The Mail ono year and choice of Chromo 0Q The Mail one year and Both Chromos mounted 3 00 The Mail one year and Both Chromos

FRAMED..... 5 00

THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL Is an Independent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed on 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 tho most refined fireside circle.

CLUBBING WITH OT1IEK PERIODICALS. We are enabled to offer extraordinary inducements in tho way of dubbin?: with oth-, er periodicals. We will furnish T1IE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, I'RICJS 82.00 PER YEAR, and elthe* of the above Chromos with any of the periodicals enumerated below at greatly reduood rates. These periodicals will* be sent direct from tho offices of publication. Here Is the list:

SEMI-WEEKLY.

Semi- Weekly New York 'JWliunc, price $3.00, The Mall and Chromo 91 80

4ki WEEKLY PAPERS. Indianapolis Journal, prloe 92.00, Tho Mall and Chrwnio 93 50 Indianapolis Sentinel, price $2.00, The

Mall and Chromo 3 50 N. Y. Tribune, price 92.00, The Mall and Chromo 3 50 Toledo Blade, price 92.00, The Mall and

Chrotno 3 50 N. Y. Sun, The Mail and Clir«ino 3 00 Prairie Farmer, price 92.00, The Mall and Chromo 3 65 Western Rural, price 92J50, The Mail and

Chromo 3 50 Chicago Advance, price 93.00, The Mail and Chromo 4 5® Chicago Interior, price 92.50, The Mail and Chromo..... 4 00 Chicago Inter-Ocean, price 91.50, The

Mail and Chromo 3 25 Applcton's Journal, price W.ttO, The Mall and Chromo 5 2"if Rural Neto Yorker, price 93.00, The Mail and Chromo & Hearth and Home, price 93.00, The Mall and Chromo 1 60 MHhodist, price 92X0, The Mall and

Chromo 3 60 Harper's Weekly, price JH.00, The Mail and Chromo 5 50 Ifarjter's Bazar, price $1.00, The Mail and Chromo 5 50 Frank Ijeslies Illustrated Newspajter, price W.00, The Mail and C'hronio 5 00, Leslies Chimney Corner, price 94.00, The

Mall and Chrorno 5 00 Boys' and Uirts' Weekly, price 92.50, the Mall and Chromo 3 75

MONTHLIES.

Arthur's Home. Magazine, price 82X0, The Mall and Chromo 94 60 Peterson's Magazine, price 92,00, The

Mall and Chromo 8 50 American Agriculturist, price 91X0, The Mali and Chromo 3 00 Bemorest's Monthly, price 83,C0, 1 year,

The Mall andChremo.. 4 35 Uodcy's iMdu's Book, price 93.00, The Mail and Chromo 4 50 Little Corporal, price 11X0,

The Mall and

Chromo •":•••-jy

860

Scriimer's Monthly, price 94.00, The Mall and Chromo 6 20 Atlantic Monthly, price 94.00, The Mall andCbromo —1

520

Old and New, price MM, Tbe Mail and Chromo -v

Overland Monthly, price 91.00, The Mail and Chromo... 00 Harper's Magazine, price The Mai 1 and Chromo— 5 Gardener'* Monthly, price92.00,

The Mall

and Chromo 8 50 Young Folk* Rural,Tho Mall aud Chromo... 2 74 The Nursery, price 91X0, The Mall and

Chromo 3 10 St. NichoUu, price S3XI0, Tho Mail and Chromo. 4 40

All the premiums offered by the above pub llcatlons are included in this clubbing arrangement.

CLUBBING WITH COUNTY PAPERS, We have made arrangements to furnljaft THE MAIL, with Chromo, and any one of the Newspapers in the neighborhood of Terre Haute all for S3JX).

JUST LOOK AT IT 1,

Total 00

All these—(98.00)—for 93.00.

Address P. S. WESTFA1X, Publisher Saturday Evening Mail,

TERKEHAUTE, 1ND