Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 38, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 March 1875 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.*

THO TO-MORRO W. BV JOAOC1N MLTOJEB.

Othou to-morrow! Mystery! O day that ever rami before! What has thine bidden hand In store For mine, to-morrow, and for roe?

O thou to-morrow 1 what ha«t thou Ja tAore to make me bear the now

0 day in which we shall forget Tho tangled troubl*» ol to-day 0 day thai laughM at dun*, at debt,

O day of promises to pay! 0 shelter from all present storm! O day in which we shall reform!

0 safest, best day for reform! Convenient day of promise*! Hold back the shadow of the storm,

O bl«««"d to-morrow! Ohleftesv friend, Ln not thy mystery be less, Bui 1 ad us blindfold to the end.

Stronger than Death.

X*6t mo open tho windows of along dosed memory, and ooel you with tho December freshness of a Minnesota blast.

Our Christmas mail hwi come in. The wood-fire was singing in the immense grate otherwise, tho silence in the room was only broken bv the rustling of the paper aa we read our letters.

Mine said: "When are you comin nome, little woman? I have count© the months on a

rosary

There was my homo thero was my prooious family circle there Jasper was counting his rosary of tears.

To uo in January instead of waiting till March, was Rweeter and sweoter. I stolo out of the room and up to my own chamber, with hope so warm in my heart, that it seemed to molt the snow on tho outer window-sills. All the bleak world green and sunny 1 almost fancied the nesting birds were stirring In tho leadess trees.

That night, when I lay in bed, too happy to sleep, the glow of my chambertire made a pleasant rosy spot in the darkness. Watching it, foil to thinking how grave Justine had looked at toa-timo now silent sho had been ovor her knitting through the quiot ovoning. None of her usual pranks. None of her customary thefts of my paper-knife, leaving me with uncut pages at the most mysteriously thrilling "situation" in tho novel. None efher playful prattlo around Hubert'* desk, coaxing him from tho intricacies of an eatate-case |letters testamentary, and otherwise), into the follios of a game of cribbage. What had chanced to make her so dull? The door was pushed gently open while 1 mused and by the light of the taper which she held, I saw Justine in her night-wrapper.

She put down her candle, and came and stood bv my bed. Kven in that half shadow 4 could see the tears in her oye«.

Hubert lea It to me to tell yon, Port o," sho said "and I may as well out with it at once. He goes alone in Janu-

'"Tswallowed a sob in my throat a cry lOtm to my lips but I held it in. It was a bitter disappointment but I bore it in silence.

Dearest Dorie, said poor Justine ylngly, "I feel for you deeply. It la gh lot joyouslv

enough for me l»ut I have cast my lot western

'^llut those dear hom#-fblk»—«nd— and—Jaspar," I murmured "O Justine! whv can't we go next week?"

She stooped and ktmed me tenderly •a the mouth "Hod blew yon, darling, *c» have sacridoed yourself long enough. I will coax Hubert into taking youat all hazards, Done." "And leave vow behind?" «r You would not want to go at toe risk ef my Hfe. would you, dtear?" 1 looked at her alight frame and nervous feor, and understood her. Travel then In that intense cold would be loo much for her. I pat my arms •round her and drew her down lo me

It *111 be all right," I bravely ^oid "we will wait together until

^rSnllte the noble considerate little

woman

she was, shedld not stay a mok.ng.r,

went out with her taper, «f the door left «n« onoe more IO-.T diurkuee*. But I couldliedown 2o ..miter. I aroee, turned the key in the end

I diurkuee*^ But I aroee,

WHim

of tears and

yesterday a decade had slipped through my fingers. Ten months since wo look ~ed on your pale, charming spirituelle lace! 'Months*' did I say? Call it rather ten centuries. I am hungry for a sight of you—for a sound of you There is a rumor of Hulert's coming down to Washington shortly. Does that roean(Uod grant it!) that you and Justine travel with him? JASPER.

Hubert was my brother and Justine, his wife. Dear heart! what need to tell •who Jasper was! I smoothed the letter tenderly upon my knee, caressante, as one pats and smoothes the hand of a friend. If I had been alone, I would have pressed it to my lips.

Pale, charming spirituollo face," indeed A glance at tho mantel-mirror made me smile. Tho thin cheeks had rounded into blooming peaches: tho waxen •kin had turned fresh and wholesoino the e'ear oyes were hollow and shadowy no longer. My ten months in the West bad made mo'a sound woman—thanks to God aud brother Hubert.

I looked around for tho doar fellow, lie has just seated himself at hj§ library table, which was littered with a large mail. Justine was leaning over his shoulder listening while be talked.

You see thero is no help for it," he was saying "instead of waiting until March, I must start in tho beginning of January."

My heart gave a great throb of pleasure. We had talked tho matter over so

often,

Justine and

Both of us young

and fond of change: both of us easternborn, we were just then homo-sick for a far oil city. Wo did not envy Catharine of Russia in her palace of ice. Wo grew lethargic from the intenso cold. A sense of helplessness seized us among those blank snew-flolds the giant drifts frightened us when wo wont sleighing, with even the tips of our noses mulHed in furs. We read Snow-Bound, critically with the storm shaking tho house, and wondered how Whittier found so much poetry in so stern a prose. Hut while we cast about for a spell that might dis«solve our icy fetters, Hubert came to the rcscuOt

'Let not tho iron enter your souls,'" said he. 'Suffer and be strong,'" said he. But the upshot of it all was that he was going south, iu the early spring, on business of importance and could so manago it as to leavous women, en route at

H. i»ttle

kneea fought out

bv myself. I so aosperLi-». mne down out horae -eick. 0T UV ice-tower felu tkle* *nd wa «d w»h my aail eoenta.

I had

Into the Paradiao of pleasant places and ear mien through faAnd here I was recap-

y- vt 2 7 5"

C"~

^bethought me of the Utile Mexican1 Uont" Ike edied ni0 quiokly. bird that feeds on dew and honey, Lively and sportive in the summer hours, It seemingly dies when winter oomes and hangs suspended from a tree-branch, a torpid, tiny mass. But with the first flowera of the spring, it bursta its death-like sleep, and wings ite flight around the garden, pouring forth ripples of silver song.

Happy bird, (I thought that winter night,) when Will the spring-time of my deliverance come

If the Are had not burned out and the bitter cold attacked me, I think I should have knelt there all night. But even in bed and asleep, a haunting trouble pursued mo.

I dreamed that Jasper was ill, dying. That he held out his pale hands, and cried aloud for me that I had but to cross afield to reach him, when suddenly a terrible noiso was heard, the solid earth betweon us slid into a black gulf —and I saw my friend no more.

Tho next week my brothor went south alone. It was on a Friday, the 5th of January.

have good roason to

remember that date.) The night he loft us, Justino was suffering.' Tho worry of getting Herbert off, and the sting of parting (for they wero foolishly fond of each other) brought OH a violent headache, and the pain was so severo I did not leave her bed-side till near midniirht.

When I went to my own room I was tired, but singularly wide awake. I threw a fresh log on tho fire, and sat down in a low chair to read a chapter, as was my custom always before retiring. What I am now going to relate is open, to believe or doubt. I can only assert that at the time of the, occurrence I was personally under-no hallucination of the nerves. In excellent health, sound in body and mind, I think it necessary to repeat that I was also singularly wide awake.

The clock struck twelve the lamp burned clearly the room was very warm and quiet. The book iu my hand, (it was one Jaspar had given me) foil open at this passage:

Brethren, we will not have you ignorant concerning them that are asleep, that you be not sorrowful even as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them who havo slept through Jesus, will God bring with,him. For this we say unto you in the word of tho Lord, that we who are alive, who remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them who have slept. For the Lord himself shall come down from heaven with commandment, and with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God and the dead who are in Christ shall rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, shall be taken up together with them in the clouds to meet Christy into the air, and so shall we be always with the Lord. Wherefore, comfort ye ono another with these words."

After I had read thus far, a strange sensation came over me. A numbness and stagnation of the blood seized me. I seemed for a short space to have gone out of the body—I knew not where. Then a chill wind, (earthy in itssmoll as if it blew from an open grave) passed betweon

1110

and the glowing lire and

in that moment, I distinctly saw Jasper bqforc me. Ho was standing upright, rigid, and with closed oyes. He was pale with the pallor ef recent death a linen bandage confined his jaws, and his white hands were folded on his breast in an attitude of most beseeching supplication.

A soft phosphorescent light emanated from ana surrounded him. Every hair of his dark flowing moustache, every of his damp curling hair was plainly visible: bis expression was sad, but flill of a profound resignation.

I think I must have fainted, for there followed along blank. At a late hour the next morning Justine found me in bed, but I have not the faintest rocollection as to how I got there.

If, at tho samo time, sho had not found me still in mv hoilse-dress of the preceding day, ana with Jaspar's book in my hand, I might have thought tho whole thing a vision of a troubled sleep.

I told her what I had seen. I was nervous and trembling, but she was blithe as a bird and laughed my fears to scorn. "You were freezing over me and my headache," she said buoyantly "you thiew yourself on tho bed just as you are, without undressing and as a matter of course you were uncomfortable and dreamed bad dreams. I'll venture to say you were lying upon your back. What could you expeot in that case but the nightmare

I listened, silent but unconvinced. Come now," she pursued brightly—

the maid is keeping your chocolate hot. It is a delightful day, warmer than yesterday. After you nave breakfasted we will order the sleigh and drive to Ver3rs'."

Verners were Justines closest friends living at Vermillion, three miles off. I breakfasted lightly and with an inexpressible feeling of sadness. The delicious chocolate tailed to exhilarate me even tho ride that followed, through tho crisp sunny morning could not drive the cob-woos from my spirits. It was one of the fairest days of that long northern winter. The snow was dasslinglv pure, and sparkled like crystals the smoke from the wayside chimneys curled straight to the clouds through the varied atmosphere, like airy spiral staircases.

Wo found Mrs. Vomer on the lounge before the fire in the sitting-room. Some slight indisposition was keeping her captive. She was a tall, lithe woman, with strongly-marked features and large black eyes fall of a latent force. French and Spanish blood mingled in her veins ana the story of her lineage was written on her face.

She had a passionate fondness for me, which, at times, found such extravagant expression that It used to frighten me. Justine bad known her several years, and was very partial to her. Before my arrival at my brother's home (ten months previous,) she had made Mrs. Verner her sole confidante. (Justine was one of those women who mux* have a confidante.) And the folks at Vermillion used to say that we bad found our town-house at Venters white Verners had found their oountry-eeat at our mansion In the wilds. As a matter ef course, we saw a greet deal of each other and were so Intimate we almost thought aloud when together. As a matter of oourae, also, Justine—dear loquacious steer—was scarcely divested of her wraps that winter morning, before she unbosomed herself to Mm, Verner.

With ber AM* en the shining fonder, rocking to and fro In the easiest of easy chairs, she told the story of Hubert's departure, and of my "ugly dream," as ahe persisted in calling it.

As to Hubert's going, our friend did not need to be told oflt, inasmuch as brother bad been before us. It was quite natural and In keeping that be should run in on hie way to the depot and say good-bye to the Vei that was what he bad done.

it came to the "dream," Mrs. Veraer rose on ber elbow on the couch and looked at me with those great eyes

TffiTiBJ'/H AUTE SATtJHPAY EVENING MAIL)

i" And J^ou toll.™ If ... q»H.

I had not spoken

In tot,

felt de-

cidedly averse to having the matter simply inclined my bead.

canvassed. 'I

She rose to a sitting peeitlon, hot and vehement. "It was a dream," she said forcibly, and with gestures "only a bad dream. There are no such things as apparitions in these days. The dead are dead. They are gone U»ey return no m°re."

I am sorry I cannot agree with you, I said, with dreary calmness "but this thing was too real. I was not asleep. I saw Jasp—I saw my friend as plainly last night as I now see you—"

I broke off, shuddering at the remembrance, and hid my fhee in ray hands. "Let me convince you," said Mrs. Verner, leaning toward me with some strong feeling her face. "Let me tell you my story." She drew out a little jeweled watch and glanced at it. "Verner is at the mills, and will not be home for an hour yet," she explained. "I never mention this matter before him, for he is jealous as a Moor. Men are such fools. Bah!"—with an expressive gesture of contempt—"to be jealous of the dead! Was there over such folly? Listen. Before I married Verner (before I even met with him,) in my early girlhood, I was tenderly beloved by a young Spaniard. A handsome cavalier, with pensive eyes, and the gravo, courteous ways of the real hidalgo. He was some sort of a l'orty-fifth cousin of my mother, and under cover of that shadow jr relationship he frequented.my father's house daily. Mark you, though I have said that he loved me tenderly, I do not say that his love was returned. I was interested in him there was a great deal of sentiment between us, and we were both young and overflowing with romance. If he had lived—but I am anticipating. One moonlight night, as we paused in parting at the gate ol our vast garden, I was feigning coquettishly to doubt the sincerity of his affection. I remember I plucked a spray of roses from my hair and shook it till the scarlet petals fell upon the grass at our feet, likening them, as they fluttered away, to the love that glows for a short season, only to wither and crumble at the touch of time.

fi.

He took my hand in his and with an intense look and a fervor I shall never lorget, he said: 'Carmita, I promise you now, I swear to you by the blue heavens above us, that if I should die before you, I will come to you after death and assure you of my fidelity to you. True love is Stronger than death. Will you do the same for me, darling Carried away with the wild romance of the hour, in the dewy darkness, breathing the delicious odor of the orange trees, and with the thought of actual death as far frpm me as was the blue sky he called to witness his oath, I repeated the solemn words he dictated, lhat night, riding home, his horse stumbled and threw him. His neck was broken his death was instantaneous. I never saw him again in life"—she paused, a curious emotion passed over her foce before she added—"or in death. And that was twenty years ago." "Are you convinced, Dorie?" asked Justine, rising to go.

I shook my head negatively. Mrs. Verner came close to me, and laid her thin, muscular hand on mine.

It is all imagination, child," she said, slowly. "If any spirit could have manifested itself after death to the living, that of Angolo Munez would have shown itself to me."

The next afternoon Mrs. Verner rode out with her husband, after church, to return our visit. The gentleman was a dyspeptic, and when the spell was on him, lull of caprice. As ill luck would have it that day, the spell was on him and he refused to stop for tea.

Justine was one of the most hospitable of women, and joyed in playing the hostess. We could both see that Mrs. Vernor needed no coaxing to remain but her husband was inexorable. It was a dull day the sky was leaden with the promise of more snow. Mr. Verner prophesied a stormy night, and told his wifo it was useless to remove her bonnet. They must start for Vermillion in a half hour's time, he urged, adding that he had no fancy for a three-miles* ride through the snow on a black night. It was useless for Justine to plead that the fallen snow cave alight of its own that she and I had frequently quitted Vermillion at ten o'clock on just such a night, and found our way home in perfect safety. Our most persuasive arguments could only prolong their visit till the early twilight began to fall and with a cup of tea, taken almost on the road, they left us.

Before noon the next day, Justine and I were startled by our friend's sudden appearance in our cosey parlor. The storm her husband had predicted, had lasted all night and her black hair was powdered with snow, as if for a court coiffure. She had come out to us alone inner sleigh, driving herself. This she had never done before, albeit she had the nerve of a mnn. But once her ftir gauntlets were off, her hands trembled like an aspen and in suite of the deep bloom a ride in the wind had given her, I could 63 sho was haggard and holloweyed as a person who had not slept.

After she drank the wine Justine brought her, she stood erect and made a passionate gesture, throwing up her crossed arms before her eyes.

God has punished me for my presumption she said in a moaning way several times.

Then she came and crouched at my feet, shaking with a strange terror. "Going home last night," she cried aloud, "Angelo Munes came to me!"

Justine looked at me .wonderingly, and I returned ber gaze with the same unspoken suspicion.

We both thought the woman was out of ber mind. But she read our thoughts. I am not craay," she said, standing up with sudden calmness. "1 almost wish I was. Last evening I rode home, as you know, alone with Verner. Hie sky was like lead: not a star to be seen. Be lore we had gone half a mile the night foil suddenly, like the dropping of a black curtain., But I rejoiced in the darkness, for it hid my sullou face. I leaned against Verners breast, notfroiti choice, but because the wind was like a sword. I was bitterly anary at my husband. My Spanish blood was beating in my brain. I really wanted to stay and spend the evening with you here, and he was so ugly, so perverse. •ented the injustice: I could have killed him. Than in the high tide of ujy pasof An*elo. Our talk ef You bad 'em!"

sion, I thought of An«elo. Our the ether day had revived the memoir ef his kindness, of his devotion, of his unwearying patience with

eraers. And But when

a mighty hand and a great light flowed over me as from a source behind and above me I The

rays

ing at my back I cowered closer to Verner. I hold my chin lew upon my breast. I dared n*t turn or lift my eyes (out of which the hot tears were gushing,) lest I should see over my shoulder the shape whence flowed that awful light, My aeul was on my Mp«»yet I made DO sound. Verner also was silent as the dead I might almost have doubted if he saw the strange illumination. But when we rode swiftly out of the ghastly radiance, leaving it behind us on the snow, the horse shook as with an ague and then Verner said: 'What was that? Did you see that light It mast have been a meteor.'"

Justine came over and laid her hands in a soothing way upon the agitated woman's.

What was your answer?" she questioned quietly. Mrs. Verner was starting at me with an absorbed, inexplicable gaze. She roused herself with an effort. "See how I tremble now," and she held up her shaking hand, "yet (would you believe it?) I laughed then and mocked him, recalling his fears of a dark night. 'We are the favorites of Heaven/ I said, with strange sarcasm 'this icy slope by tho ravine is the only dangerous bit of road between this and Vermillion and lo! Providence has sent us pyrotechnics of our own!' But he has bees grumpy ever since. He has not been well of late. He is superstitious," she smiled bitterly "he thought it, vorily, an omen of his own death."

While she talked she wasgathering up her sables and gloves. "Don't go." I said, earnestly. "You are terribly unnerved. Stay with us and rest until after our early dinner."

She turned and gave me again that sad, piercing glance. Her expressive eyes overflowed with pity and tenderness. "I»«M*go," she answorcd, slowly. "When I leave hero, I go to seek the Freuch priest at Inver Grove. Hem ast offer amass to-morrow for poor Angeio's soul. Come with mo Dorie, my comforter. Will you not lend her to me, Justine? There is room in the sleigh, and I will bring her back sife in a few hours."

Of course, my sistef assented. There was no reason why she should not. The snow had ceased to fall and her sympathy for the woman was beyond words

Away from ustine's eyes, undercover of the outer porch, Mi's. Vomer's arm went round my waist and held me like a vice. A most passionate embrace, followed by a sudden kiss and a low vehement cry.

May God comfort you, Dorie, as you have comforted me!" She so often mado these wild speeches. She had as I have said, such outree was of showing her fondness for me. I attached no special importance to this, scene.

Once in the sleigh, buried iu buffalo robes, and with the bells tinkling blithely, we rode, without exchanging words, to the French Church.

We met the priest coming away from it. A white-haired old missionary with a benevolent face he was setting out hurriedly to minister to a distant sickcall.

Mrs. Verner told her errand as briefly as possible. While they talked, I strolled absently into the open church. I heard the priest go away. I heard Mrs. Verner coming swiftly up the aisle behind mo.

She caught me in her strong arms and drew me down beside her on my knees. "This is the house of God," sho whispered rapidly, "this is His special abiding place. I have brought you here, today, Dorie. for a solemn purpose."

I in her face in mingled sur-

Kerstaredfear.

rise and She was deadly white, eyes sparkled like stars. Again the thought came to me—this woman must be mad!

Her hand went to the corsage of her dress. Was sho going to kill me? Had she a dagger or a pistol hidden in her heaving Dosom The tears ran in showers down her cheeks as she drew out a slip of paper, and held it before my eyes.

Ah woe is me, woe is me I a daggerstroke or a pistol-shot would havo Deen less cruel! It was a telegram

On my kneep before the altar of God I read: Jaspar died at midnight on Friday January the 5th. Only a week HI. His last words were The way is long and dark, but I must go to-night to see my little Dorie.'"

til HOW WOULD IT SEEM? We have often 'thought (for editors never speak from experience) that a od stock of

rible, torturing ordeal of a regular courtship. He has not only to run the gauntlet of sneering young gentlemen, but also the gauntlet of gossiping young ladies to be talked of and to be the mark of watchful observations for the whole neighborhood in which his fair one resides. Nor is this all. If his addresses are only acceptable to ene member of the family, and that member the depository of the garnered-up love of a whole life, he is sure to meet the savage glances ef ravage brothers, and is just as sure to encounter other equally flattering manifestations of paternal, maternal or fraternal opposition. Now this is all wrong, the exchanges should be more equalized,and some are sanguine enough to believe that the day is not for distant when they will be equalized when^we shall hear addresses

hey will be equalized wnen we ear ef young ladlee paying their ses to young gentlemen, visiting nightly at their houses, inviting

them to r$de,'to walk, to dance, to sing to oat ice-cream, and, as soon as matters are brought to an interesting crisis, the question,M itself. Ah I

question, tfal igin eur mother's par

rhat*' a ^delightAil thing It would be, waiting in eur mother's flurriedly lor, carefi be courted! To be tenderly stared at,

lor, carefully brushed and strapped to

only after the of the most deli the world I

«ny

whima,

would not have done this, I panted inwardly *be would not have denied me the petty pleasure of a fow heur* in the society of my beet friends. He loved me, at least, purely, unselfishly, unto death.' Then I thought: 'Yes, and he said he would return to me after death to assure me of his fidelity—but he never did.' And then, O Heavens! I folt upon my left shoulder (the pressure catch himself as

THIS story is told o! a ftither wfio Wiw one evening teaching his little boy to recite his 8u nday-«ctKol lesson. It ww from the fourteenth chapter of Matthew, wherin Is related the parable ef a malicious individual who went about sowing tares. "What is a tare? Tell me, my son, what a tare is," asked the anxious parent.

You had 'em !M

Johnny, what do you mei his fttther, opening his eyesn Why, last week, when

ou mean V1 asked rather wide. yeu didn't

come home for three days," said John ny, "I beard mother tell Aunt Susan that you were on a tare."

Johnny was immediately sent to bed.

WHBW a lady stipe on the sidewalk she gracefully sita down, and that's the end oflT

A man,

of that light

seemed to pierce my sinking heart like arrows,

recover

sprawling

j&mtwpernmiuTTU presence wa*pr*M-1 then he swears.

however, always tries to

catch himself on the other foot, drops all his bundlee and uses bis arms for a balancing pole, struggles desperately for about ten seconds in a vain endeavor to

IMPIETIES.

A preacher speaks of the Black Crookedness of the aevious ways of sin. The carrying of a contribution -tox will not be discontinued so long as "there Is money in it."

The only objection to the fomale chaplain of the Maine Legislature is that she has too much to say.

A tract on "The Wickedness of Gluttony" is said to have been found among the good things sent to the Kansas grasshopper sufferers.

A. D. Earle, a prominent Baptist of Galesburg, Illinois, has fled, having been detected fn incest witb his step-daugh-ter, who died in childbirth.

Rev. Mr. Frothingbam says "there is no hell," and The Cleveland .Plaindealer Insists that contracts should be immediately let for the construction of one.

The cavaliers, during the protectorate, were accustomed in their libations to put acrumb of bread into a glassof wine and, before they drank it, say: God send this Crumbwell down.

My son," said a mother to her little boy, "who above all others will you wish to seo when you pass into the spirit world?" "Goliah!" shouted theohild, "unless," he quickly added, "there's a bigger teller there."

Mrs. Burnham playfully aocused Talmage of taking a trip to Coney Island with Lydia Thompson, and being very friendly with Josie Mansfield. The New York Mercury interviewed him on the subject, and he said he never heard of either of the women.

An ambitious Texan having read somewhere about the "Pope's bull," announces in one of the papers published in the interior of the State that he has a three-year-old brindle steer, blind of bne eye, that he will match to whip any bull the Pope can produce.

Dr. Barges, when ninety-five years of age, slept during a sermon, and, on

"Cherry Time" —AND— "Lily of the Field."

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THE

prloe

ing joked about it by a friend, insisted he had been awake all the time. "Well, then," said his friend, "can you tell me what the sermon was about?" "Yes, I can," he answered—"it was about half an hour too long."

Some girls at an Illinois seminary set two chickens fighting in their room on a recent Sunday. Lets on the result ran high, and at the conclusion of the contest the winning maiden was "better" by a gold watch, a pair of silk stockings, a French corset, two rolls of false hair, a patent bustle, and a beautiful book-mark with "Christ Our Guide" worked on it in. colored silk.

Yes, the tendency of modern theology is to the belief that we shall all eventually reach heaven. But do not mistake. dear "Angelus," the drift of this admission. Go to heaven we all may but do not suppose that we shall sit in each other's laps there, feeling a true inwardness crawling over our heartstrings like a gentle simoon over an JEolian harp. 0h4 no, not to any great extent.

Rev. Mrs. Olympia Browfi &ays she doesn't want to go to Boston, and objects to the disposition of many clergymen to go there, regardless of sex or previous condition ef servitude. "It would seem," she says, "that our ministry is nothing more than the game which the children play called 'Boston.' iu which there are seats enough for all the company except one, who stands in the center and waits for a vacancy in Boston."

A young lady of Danbury, whose company is mucn prized by an enterprising merchant, took charge of a class ot little girls the other Sunday. After the lesson she told the children that If they wished to ask her any questions she would answer them. "Will you answer true asked a bright-eyed cherub. "Certainly." said the teacher. "Well, then," said the little one, hesitatin "do—do you love Mr. teacher collapsed.

Bishop Ames tells a story of a slavemaster fn Missouri, in the olden time of negro vassalage, woo said to his chattel: "Pompev, I hear you area great preacher." "Yes, massa, de Lord do help me powerful sometimes." "Well, Pompey, don't you think the negroes steal little things on the plantation "I'se mighty 'fraia they does, massa." "Then, Pompey, I want you to preach a sermon to the negroes against stealing.1' After a brief reflection, Pompey replied: "You see, massa, dat won't do, cause 'twould throw such a oo'lness over the meetln'."

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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.

Get Both Chromos.""

Any person wishing to secure at onoe both of our new premium Chromes can de so by subscribing for The Mall two years in advance, paying nt 94 therefor, or we will send the paper for one year and both Chromos mounted for the sum of 93, or we will send The Hall one year and both pictures handsomely framed in walnut and gilt for 95,00.

night after night, by girl after girl to* |ntQm ct,romos to every person sending its have one's brown, rough hand occa-

sionally squeeaed I And to have ones waist delicately encempassed (of course gement") by some j'-tapering arms In

An Extra Chromo Free. We will send a copy of either of ear pre-

U]e nameg Qf

three new yearly subscribers

with the money, six dollar*, also firing the pictures to each of the three subscribers. Almost any one can in this way seoare this beauuful work of art without It costing them anything.

Look at the Offer.

To every new yearly subscriber to The Mall, and to each old subscriber who renews, is five* a magnificent chromo, usually sold at 94, and the paper, costing 92, making 98 worth man, tor only C. Tell your Mends about it! Get the best paper published in the State for one year, and an ex*, pensive ptctore—all tor 92.

ladies at Home

aineafh front 910 to 9«a week, canvassing for the Saturday Evening Mall and its charming Chromos. See prospectus in another column, and send tor circular of Instructions. Or better still, send Two Dollars for outfit and commence work immediately.

Clergymen

can earn a few dollars, and introduce a first-class paper, by canvassing for thefiat-

his equlllbrium and Anally goes ontoy Evening Mail. Liberal commissions sprawling like a collapsed wind-mill given. The paper snd Chromo take on then he swears. right. Bend for circular of Instructions.

l.v

Saturday Evening

MATT,,

FOR THE TEAR

1875. I

A MODEL WEEKLY PAPER FOR THE HOME.

TERMS:

One year, (with chromo).. —92 00 Six months, (without chromo) ....... 91 00 Three mouths, (without chromo) 56 cts.

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

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

I»«,I

n,.

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 chromo artists, are faithful copies 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 tho back ground. They are of striking beauty.

For one dollar extra (93.00 in all,) we will send The Mall one year and both chromos mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold

the art stores at

FOffR DOLLARS EACH.

FRAMES.

We have made arrangements with an extensive manufactory of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a frame usually sold for 91.50 and 91.75. These frames are of the best polished walnut and gilt. Herelsthe

BILL OF PRICES.

The Mall one year and choloe of Chromo 92 00 The Mail one year and Beth Chromes mounted^. 8 00 The Mall one year and Both Chromos

FRAMED.. 5 00

THE SATURDAY EVENING MAEL is an Independent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed on eight pages of book paper, and alms to be, in every senso, a Family Paper. With this aim in view, nothing will appear in its columns that canuot 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 with other periodicals. We will furnish THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, PRICE 92.00 PER YEAR, and elthe1 of the above Chromos with any of the periodicals enumerated below at greatly reduoed rates. These periodicals will be sent direct from the offices of publication. Here is the list: tj

SEMI-WEEKLY.

Semi- Weekly Nt*v York Tribunt, price 93.00, The Mail and Chromo 94 60

WEEKLY PAPERS.

IndianapoUt Journal, price 82.00, The Mall and Chremo 93 60 IntUanmpoUM Sentinel, price 92.00, Tho

Mail and Chromo 8 50 IT. Y. Tribune, price 92.00, The Mail and Chromo..... 3 50 Toledo Blade, price 92.00, The Mail and

Chromo 8 60 N. Y. Bun. The Mall and Chremo 8 00 Prairie Farmer, price 92.00, The Mail and Chrome—.................................. 8 64 Western Rural, price 92.50,

The Mall and

Chromo 8 60 CMeago Advance, price9&00, The Mall and Chromo 4 6® CMcaffo Interior, prioe 92.60, The Mail and Chromo 4 00 Chicago Inter-Ocean, price 91.60, The

Mall and Chromo 9 25 Apptfton'* Journal, price tMO, Mall and Chrome 6 25y Rural New Yorker, price 93.00, The Mall and Chromo. 4 25 Hearth and Home, price 83.00, The Mail and Chromo 4 50 JMAodM, price 92.60, The Mall and

Chromo... 8 60 Harper'* Weektyt price 94.00, The Mall and Chromo..™.. 6 50 Harper'* Bator, prioe 84-00, The Mail and Chromo 6 60 Frank LetUet Illustrated Newspaper, price 84.80,The Mail and Chromo 6 00 LetUet Chimney Corner, prioe 94.00, The

Mall and Chremo 6 00. Boy*' and Girl*' Weekly, prioe 92.60, the Mall and Chrome 8 75

MONTHLIES.

llio,"

Arthur'* "Home Magazine, price

The Mall and Chromo 94 60 peterton't Magmtine, price 92,00, The Mail and Chromo 8 60 American Agriculturist, prioe 11-60, The

Mail and Chromo 3 00 3morut» Monthly, prioe 98^0, 1 year, The Mail and Chremo «c.. 85 Godey'* Lmdy'* Book, prioe 88.00, The

MaU and cEromo

4 60

Little Corporal, price tlJSO^Cbe Mail and Chromo AritoterV Monthfy, price 84J)0,The Mall

JMemtte The Mall W«V^el^V «od

Chromo

Mail

and Chromo..... .....^........™. .^...^...- 00 Harper'» Magaskne, price 94JO0,The Mall and Chromo 6 oO Oardener't Monthly, price92i»,The Mall and Chromo— 60 Young FoUu Rural, The Mail and ChrojTu°Nuriery, prioe 91.66, The Mall and

St. Nicholas, price 9&00, The Mall and Chromo— 4 40 All the premiums offered bv the above pub lleatloas are Included In mis dubbing arrangement.

CLUBBING WITH COUNTY PAPERS. We have made arrangements to furnish THE MAIL, with Chrosao, and any one of the Newspapers in the neighborhood of Terre Haute all for 98X0.

JUST LOOK AT IT!

The Mall, price..— *2 Tour County paper, prioe. The

Chromo,

worth

Total -mj-W

All these—(9M0)—for 98X0. •i Address F. B. WMWALL, Publisher Saturday Evening Mail,

TKRREHAUTE, IND