Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 45, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 May 1875 — Page 6

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O -ssssmr

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.'

SOMETHING OR OTHER, fclfe 1« burden for every on«'» shoulder— Kone fbfcy seespe from its trouble and Miss it lu youth, and twill com* when we're

And fit* t» a* elate the garments w® Morrow cornea into oar homo uninvited, Robbing our hearts of It* treasure* of long Lovers grow oold and oar friendships are uighted,

Yet

somehow

or other we worry along.

Midst the sweet blossoms that smile tn oar Oow'tbtTrank wteds that would poison And e'o^mb the mfclkt of earth's beautiful

There's always, son^ethiag that isn't Just right, Vet oft from the rock we may pluck a gay flower,

And drink from a spring in a desolate waste They come to 1 he heart as a heavenly dower,

And nanght Is so sweet to the eye or tjje taste.

Every day toll 1* tin every day blessing, Though poverty's cottage and crust we may share Weak Is the back on which burdens are

But ft tout Utile heart that is strengthened by prayer Somehow »r other the pathway grows brighter

Just when we mourn there was none to befriend Hope in the heart, makes the burden seem lighter,

And somehow or other we get to the end.

When Elihu Came Home. r*^5

A11 her life long, Sarah Holmes had had a romance. It began and ended with these words: "When Ellhu oomes home." And though she was but Nineteen years old at the time of which I write, it seemed to her, on the evening of that bnrnlng Jnly iav, as she sat in her bedroom and looked out upon the moonlight fields, that she had been living one or two centuries in this world, ana ail the time dreaming golden dreams of Ellhu, onlv to find then* shivered into atoms at the last.

For Klihu had come. And the time and the manner of his coming were so unlooked for and so unexpected to her, as well a» to every one else, that the girl sat there in the moonlight, saying to herself, "He is here. I need never watch or wait for him again. In the next chamber to mine he is sleeping— that is, if he can sleep, poor Elihu/'

The earliest storios she could remember had been told to her by her mother, about "Cousin Klihu." and the enormous fortune he baa made "down South," at a timo when fortunes could yet be made in that unhappy land. She had heard fabulous tales or the palace in which he lived, of the negro slaves who flew to do his bidding, of tho beautiful carriages aud horses that bore him from plaoo to place, and of the jewels, the silks, satins, and velvets that fortunate woman would possess who would ©no day become Eliuu's bride.

Other girls had heard these stories, also, and tho bolle of tho school at Holmondale often said that when she was sixteen, she should "go trailing," and llnd her way down south, and "set her cap" for Elihu Holmes. That the result would follow for which she looked, no girl among them all doubted, for ovon "tho master's" stern face softened and smiled upon Rosannah Meadows, whon she shook baok her golden curls atul lifted her large blue eyes, with a blush, to his.

Poor Rosanna Sara leaned her cheek on her hand, and looked over the hilltop toward the village graveyard, where the village beauty was now lying, with her blue eyes olosod, her golden ringlets smoothed back from ber white brow, and her hands clasped in an unearthly quiet on her breast. Ellhu bad never known how her girlish heart went out toward him. And now Elihu had come home?

As Sara Holmes grew up and developed from the tall angular girl into the and self-possessed young woqueonly man, the thought would sometimes occur to her, as she stood before the mirror braiding her dark hair, "If he should come back, would he think me pretty, now that Itosanna is gone?" The broad, low brow, the oval cheeks and dimpled chin answered *, the healthful color, the docp, dark eves, tho sudden, bright, bewildering smile, said, "Yes." For hers was now a higher beauty than Hosanua's pink-and-whlte loveliness had ever been, and tho treasures of her mind and hoart might well have won an older and wiser man to love her before Elihu came homo.

And now she drew a lenjt breath, and set horwlf to recall all the incidents of that sudden and startling return.

Tea was over—the milk strained—and they were all sitting on the front piazza, under tbo shade of tho maples and lo custa, while her father read bits from the weekly pauor aloud. Her stepmother was knitting: her sister Grace was lining a hat, and her brother Ben was whittling out a toy-boat from a bit of wood, while she, Sara, sat beside htm and hold his tools as he needed them, and lost herself in a reverie about our hero in tho South.

A carriage drove up the village road and halted at their gate. The driver descended from his seat and beckoned to her father, who hurried down to the cnte to meet him. After talking for wime time together, a small trunk was Ufled down and left beside the gate. Then the carr'Ago door was opened and stall figure dcecended, and, directly aftor. Ben. who bad followed his father in a tit of bovtah curiosity, sailoned back with distended eyw, whispering loudly:

Mother—girls! Cousin Elihu has come! And he has lost every cent of his property down south 1 I heard the driver tell rather sol And they have sent him ofl up li thought he wa* there be is. you see, and the driver, awl walk. Isnt it a blamed shame of Southerners

here, alone, because they going to be sick ana usee, leasing on father

and the driver, and he cant but just 'iDM

Mercy!" exclaimed er, rising slender

S«m looked op eves, to greet her hem—no less a hero to her tor the plllftil history ol toss and

He wa* a tall, upright,elegant. a man, with a Mr complexion, 1 ing man,

exiou, lane,

melancholy blue eyes,

a tirmiy-rounded chin, that somewhat oounteraeted the Hstieaa aadneas of the free. His hair eras turning and the heavy golden-brown moustache had sue or two threads of I*W, bat with that exception he wore no look of age.

Elibn was well but plainly dnssied in a traveling suit of gray. H# rwnorM his hat as he drew near the ladies, with a oou rtoons grace hut he looked in vain lor the warm welcome from the seooud

Mrs. Holmea and herdauahterGraoe that he would have received from his own oopin bad die bean alive.

Jim. Hplmea bowed to him coldly though civilly and Grace, angry with blaTand with herself tor the sudden collapsing ot sundry ambitious hopea which she hsd never confided to snyone except her mother, awept him her latest daneingHMbool cotirteay, and affected pot to see the hand he held oat.

Elihu colored slightly, and turned to Sara, whose large dark eyes were fixed with a look of tender pity upon his refined and melancholy face. "You have face that I might to know," be said to her, gently. You are my cousin's ohild,dear Sara I I hoped sac wouM be here to meet me when I came home at last."

Sara's heart was already full, and this reference to ber dead mother caused ber tears to overflow.

Dear Cousin Elihu," said she, taking his hand in both hers, "my mother remembered and loved yen to the la«t day of her lift.* She would have been

flad

indeed to see yon here once more am glad, too. All my Ufa long I have looked forward to your coming.

But you did not expect to see me return so poor," said Elihu, aii Poor or rioh, it matters little," replied Sara, fervently. "You are here at home once more, and that is Enough to make us all rejoice."

Aye," said Elihu, looking from bee. beaming oeuntenanoe to the oald faces of the rest. "I should have been glad to bring gold enough to make me welcome. But what has happened has happened, and I do not wish to complain. Cousin Joshua' for my cousin's sake of the old times when yon and I were boys together, I suppose you will let me stay at the old homestead for a few days?" "Eh? Oh, to be surC! Stay and welcome," stammered the farmer, who feeling the eyes of his wife and bis daughter Sara fixed upon him, was like a man between twofirea.

So it was settled, and Sara flew about like a good fairy to prepare supper for the wanderer, and afterward, to set in order bis room and bed. At nine o'clock he retired, and then the storm burst forth.

The second Mrs. Holmes Inquired shrilly, if their house was to be turned into a "poor Jarm" and made the abiding place of every shiftless creature who had wasted his substance in riotous living among "those negroes"—only to come, at the last, without a penny in his pocket, to be supported by those who bad the misfortune to be related to him in a distant way.

Mr. Holmes said meekly, that "it wasn't likely that Elihu would want to stay long, and that as he bad once redeemed the farm. Which was heavily mortgaged, with bis own money, and given a deed of the place to his first wife, he didn't see very well bow be oould refuse him shelter there if he claimed it—for a time, at least," he added, nervously, seeing his wife's black eyebrows knitting together in a way that he had learned to dread.

Grace upheld her mother in all ber denunciations though Sara thought, privately, that it would have been more delicate had she k«pt silence, since, as the daughter or Mrs. Holmes by a former marriage, she could not be supposed to have any great interest, pecuniary or otherwise, in the disposition of the homestead farm.

As for Ben, like most boys of thirteen, he was on the side of right against might, and he did not scruple to say that, for his part, he hoped Cousin Elihu would stay there forever, and that he was sure, if he had redeemed the farm, that he had a porfect right to do so. His sister, Sara, could have kissed him for the answer, but she kept silence.

The days went on. every art that a mean and paltry spirit could invent, Mrs. Holmes, the second, showed plainly to Elihu how unwelcome he was beneath her roof-tree. As for Grace, she simply ignored him. And Mr. Holmes, though he would gladly have been both grateful and kind, was so tamed by nightly curtain lectures, hours long, that he dared not show the ruined man any attention, and only looked at him wistfully, now and then, as if wondering when be would be gone.

Elihu's plate, knife and fork were placed upon the table at evory meal, it true. He fared as the rest fared, any bis room and bed were the best in the house.

But this was Sara's doing. To her and to Ben. he owed each moment of happiness wnich he enjoyed in the old house. The sister and her young brother were always glad to be with Mm, bnt the other inmates of the house looked over and around him, and even when he ate of their bread and drank of their cup, seemed as if they knew him not. Sara a proud spirit biased up for his sake at a thousand petty insults and affronts each day. She wondered privately to herself, and aloud to Ben, how Cousin Elihu, with the memory of his past woalth and grandeur fresh in his mind, oould endure it! Nor was she surprised when, one p'.easant evening just tour weeks after his arrival, Elihu told ber he must go. ,,

I cannot blame you, so shamefully have you been treated," she said, while her heart sank down in her breast, like a stone sinking into the depths of the

tiny lake on whoae banks they sat. "But where will you go, Cousin Elihu? What will you do? You were 111 when you came here, and thanks to their unkindnees, you are not yet well and strong enough to care tor yourself. O, it is a shame—a shame!" sue broke out again. 'And if you had come rioh as they expected, every one of them would have been at your fbot I"

Cousin Klihu smiled the smile that always brightened ber melancholy face, till in her eyes it was the noblest, handsomest face on oartb.

Never mind them, Sara," said he "you and Ben have lx?cn so good to me that I hare scarcely noticed the rest. So good that—"

He paused and looked at her. "Sara, when 1 am gone, shall yon mtas we?" how can you —. Klihu, that when you go I shall think of you among strangers, poor, perhaps 111, per tut pe* dying—n she hid her face In her hands and sobbed aloud.

tears roae to ber eves. ask? Yon know.

Ellhu waited till her rief bad exhausted itself, and then took ber hand. What you say Is all very true, Sara. I am not At to go out into the world alone. Will you go with me? You Have a good home here, I know, bat if I have you to work for, 1 will soon give a better one. And bye-and-bye ,Ben can oome to ua, aad we wiU make a man of him. Will you a my wife, 8ara?M

She looked at him with all the solemn fervor of a woman's love aad devotion shining in ber eyea.

If you will take

't 1 -I ar' .'_' "jr 1 I

and 1st

me care tor you, I ehail ereature on earth. Fram the moment when 1 asw you oome in at the farmgate, from the moaaant When I knew nil your fertune waagona^aiid that yon were ill and alone in the world, 1 have prayed that you might lave ma. I doat oare where our home is, ae that we share tt together. loan be happier with you in a log-hut than 1 eoula be with anyone else in a palace tor you mad me,

Cold me about yoit, whettl waabitUng at her knee." 80 they were betrothed, and, after a storm alt he faraa-bouae, when herdecision was first made known, Sara followed the fertunea of bar lover to a distant city where they were married.

Ben wen* with her aa bar protector and "best man." Herlhther kissed her and cried over ber, as be bade bar farowell, and pat a pocketbook oeatatafrtg five hundred dollars Into her hand for give yam let ytmbe married 'hero," said the poor man. shall never near the last of it if I do

the wedding portion. "I can't go with away, my dear, aad

bless you, Sara, ttad your haaband SjorE

The ceremony over they drove to first-class hotel, and breakfasted in style that made Sara tremble for the fa turn. And after breakfast Elihu laid a paokage before her, and a casket by the side of her plate.

My first present to my wife," said he. "As for you, Ben—" A cry of delight from Ben made bis sister turn round to look at him. The boy was glorious in a gold huntingwatch and chain. "Open your casket love," said ber husband, smiling.

She obeyed, and a river of light seemed to flash Upon her from the diamonds within. At the same moment her husband broke the seal of the package, and showed her a bank-note inscribed with her name.

Ten thousand dollars are deposited there, subject to your order," aaid Elihu, carelessly.

Ten thousand dollars! and the watch! and the diamonds!" gasped Sara, turn ing pale. "Whatpan it all mean?"

I know," broke In Ben. with a joy oua laugh. "Cousin Elinu has only been pretending to be poor all this time. Nicely sold all those people at the farm will be!"

Sara turned to her husband He smiled, and drew her closely to his breast. From that happy day net wish of hers or Ben's has been ungratified. And all the romance of ber life began instead of ending (as she for a time supposed) when Elihu home.y

The Treasure-Trunk.

BY SARAH &ART

Every spring and fall for fifteen years had Mrs. Kidder opened ber treasuretrunk, caressed the locks of golden and brown hair, turned over broken toys one by one, opened the picture books and turned their soiled pages, taken the little garments, some bright and new some soiled ana worn, and hung them out to air, then folded each garment awav again, put each treasured momento back and turned the key in the lock and went away from her treasures out into the busy world again, and each treasured thing was as much hidden as were the thoughts and emotions of her own heart for Mrs. Kidder never intruded her sorrows upon others. The neighbors knew she was a child! widow when she bad come among them ten years before, but that was all. She never spoke of the twin lives that had brightened ber home for eight years, or of the two graves on the hillside in afar distant State, nor of that other who had been life itself to her, but whose grave was not even where a stone could mark it, for the blue waves covered him.

It was the day for tbe meeting of the sewing s»ciety. The forenoon had been spent'by Mrs. Kiddegjn examining the contents of the treasore-trunk and peltting them in order lor the winter. Then the key bad been turned and bung up in its place, and Mrs. Kidder want about getting her lonely repast. She made more baste than usual, for she had spent so much time with her treasures that it was almost noon already, and she knew that Mrs. Gray, her friend and neighbor would be sure to stop tor her on her way to the sewing society. So she bustled about aad prepared and aM» her meal, then cleared away the remains and made hereelf ready.

The trim gray dress was hardly buttoned and the plain collar, with it*Jet fastening, waa receiving the last touches when smiling, little Mrs. Gray came tripping up the neat gravel walk, wiped the dust from ber gaiters on the piece of carpet outside, tapped gently on the door, then entered before the inmate had time to give tbe aummons. 1 was afraid I was late," ahe said, briskly, "but I saw Mrs. Pendleton starting after that Mlsa Cole, and knowea I was ip time." "Oh. yes, thegre *8 plenty Of time," said Mrs. Kiddor,aasbe unfolded ber brocae. ".But what have you got there?" eyeing the bundle In Mrs. Gray's arms. 'That's my contribution, my mite, you know. You see, I can't afford to give money, so I just looked around amongst my old cast-offa and found a coat of Isaac's a petticoat or two of 8a manth/'a and an old comfortable, ao, thinks I. I'll just bundle these along somebody can do something with 'am. Have you heard about that preacher's family sotnewheree out West? He to live here married Mary Love. Maybe you remember 'em. I gueas their case will be brought up in the society to-day."

Mrs. Kidder did remember something about a Mary Love, she aaid, as she an

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAILc"

HUhu, and I—I have thought and drsan^

father's ap-

{HTiSX

So strengthened by Ji® father's^ a proval and blessing, Sara a altar to consecrate her life ber dreams.

dn& and

tbe two went out, and Mrs. Kidder vary carefully locked tbe daor and triad it.

This sewing society was not like the traditional ones. It was not a school for scandal and gossip, smile as you may, dear incredulous reader but it was composed of a baud of heartjrjaaraest, Christian workers, aad as different from tbe usual village sewing drel* as a blustering March day la from a calm, sunnv, deep blue

September one.

As'Mrs. Gray bad foretold, the of tbe home missionary waa t: The story of their privations ad them through a letter from another heme missionary tc their paator. It was an extremely sad case. The motto, unable to stand all the triaia and privations of frontier liib, bad fallen a victim to tbe fover, leaving three helplees children, tbe youngart two^years, and the eldest eight years old. How that smote upon heart! Tbe father, unwilling to bis charge, was struggling alo: difficulties almost too hard to and now winter was coming on, those moiherieaB lambs ware all

TO nan. ana m* ngbt years old! alCre. K3dder*s

Ing to leave tlong against to babom^ linjr on, and

What could be done? There

was no money In the treasury, aod the snemben of the society had responded ao nobly to other calls that thcjpt ualdont

a 7

TO^fthtok°we

was afraid there was no surplus to mast the demand. I" Let ua make up a box to sand tfram/'

naasMariea befbre wany weeka/' aaid another. Let ua try," aaid the preaidsnt. "We are none of us rich, bat perhapa all of us have something wa might spare— something the chilaeren have outgrown, or something we have oumelvea cast paide. Let us look as***! aietaia, a«4 aeeif wa cannot, do anmwthlng for thia family. Their casejntmi ta appeal to us' In particular.' Think. O mothers! What if it were your own little ones 1"

Thia womanly appeal went to ever? heait,and varioua aa tbe mindawere, the thoughts and plans brought pro to meet the demand.' So earnemly did they grasp the project as their work, that before they were dismissed it was agieeT that at the next meeting of the societ

that is to be. Poor! SlihuT Your moth er love* Mttdaadyrand I doit £iow a each would report bv bringing the! fault MhaaVtbt Wbrld, 9x04* |hat h« -eontributlons, so that they mig is pdikK4*

h^fattributions, so that bey might know upon how much they could depend. On the way home, Mia. Gray mid Mm.

Kidder talked, and planned, and wished, without coming to any settled mod*

of action. You have no one to grow out of their clothes, and my folka are obliged to wear theirs so close, and neither of us have much money to give away,'but we oan give our sympathies aud prayers," said Mrs Gray, as they parted at Mrs. Kidder's gate. "Yes, I am sure they have my sym' "lies and prayers," said Mra. Kidder

ithies and prayers," said Mra. the gave Her drees a shake and wiped feet.

he* feet.

Sympathies and prayers for the poor and a trunk full of clothea lor the moths," said a voice within.

Mrs Kidder started. No, no not such a sacrifice and she shut her lips firmly together, and tried to shut her hearts inner chamber against the invadin thought. She went into the house, too! off her shawl and hood, stirred the fire and jrat over the shining kettle and tried to be firm and tearless. But ahe could not get rid of her unwelcome guest. Tbe very teakettle seemtd to say in its ringing: "Sympathies and prayers." Mrs. Kidder steeped her tea, ahd poured an additional dipper of cold water in the kettle and set it In a cooler

fter her almost untasted supper was cleared away, she took her knitting and sat down. But she was restless. The click of her needles and the ticking ot the clock seemed to her like voices, and their measured sounds were "sympathies and prayers." She could not stand it. She knit to this seam, then fold© the stocking and laid it upon theshel and took the lamp and went to her bedroom. She paused in front of tbe little dark closet wherein was hidden the treasure-trunk, and 'seemed about to open the door, then slowly shaking her head, she turned away. She coula net make the sacrifice.

and among the wan faces she distinctly discerned ber own darlings. The morning found Mrs. Kidder trou blod in mina and sick in body. She early made her way to tbe little dark closet, carefully lifted tbe precious trunk, carried it into tbe light, took the key from its hiding place and opened it One by one she took out tbe garments, Firet came two suits of bright blue merino. How vividly camo to her that birthday party when iter dnrlings were seven years eld! How well »n0 remem bered the daya and nights of work to complete these, and their sparkling eyes when (hey beheld them! No, she could not part with these. Next came brightcolored worsted sacques aud ssarfa. This with the crimson threads was Maggie's her own choice and Mary had wanteel this with gold threads, so they might know them apart, sho said. How oould she give these? Next oame the cloaks of sombre gray, with blue facings—New Year's gifts from their father on the last happy New Year she had ever seen. How the memory oi it surged over her heart like a fearful simoon, drying its tears and making it an arid waste! No, ahe oould not part with these. Then came die every-day dresses of various fabrics—lawn, calico, bright plaids and soft-tinted delaines, ana the tinv rufar ow

I A

Ttf

can fin ft large box with

»y

fled aprons and comfortable underu menta, and shoes and stockings. could she bear to know that other hands were thrust into the dainty pockets, other forms were flitting about in tbe neat dresses without a thought of the little forms long since dust!

No, she could not endure this. God would not demand the sacrifice. She would seek her duty in some other work.

That same afternoon Mrs. Kidder de« termined to visit a poor family in anothSba pail full of soup for the sick father, and

ernart of town. carried a gallon •pai all fi a good allowance of her cherished gun powder tea for the mother. But she felt very little reward, although tbe gratitude of the prior family was abund ant. She fait that she was walking by right, and no by iaitb.

The next Sabbath was the annual col lection for the cause of home-missions. Mrs. Kidder gave double her allowance for that purpose. She oould ill afford it, for she always gave "all that ahe could:" but aomehow ahe felt so disturbed by something undone, that she fait she must perform same extra act of to recame and Mr». Kidder went borne from the services feeling very little profited.

Hi at afternoon she opened bar Bible, and ber ayes fell upon the words af Paul: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" None but God Himself saw her straggle, and none but He knew her victory. But with willing bands and a glad heart Mrs. Kidder the next day again drew out the treasure-trunk from its hiding-place, and opened it. But thia time she lingered over nothing. She took out tbe locks of golden and brown hair, put them hurriedly into her bosom, then spreading a sheet upon the floor, she emptied the contents of the treasure-trunk into it. Once ahe pauaed as she caught sight of a pair of polled stockings, with their elastic fastenings Mill around tbem. She thought she might keep these. But only for a moment did her bands eeaae in tbeir work she bad premised all and broken toys, aoiled books, and clothing, evenrtblng, save two tiny thimbles ana tbe locks of hair, ware freely offered.

That evening a huge bundle waa left at Mra. Clark's bouse, directed "For the home missionary box. From a friend." But no one knew who bad brought it.

On Wednesday the eociety met. Mrs. Gray stopped before Mia. Kidder'ahoaas but seeing the windows closed, and knowing beraelf to be a little lata, aba

aid not enter. "Where fa Mra. Kidder?" inquired someone,but no one knew. She waa usually tnere, perhaps she was UL Mra. Gray had not stopped—would call on ber way home.

When the oontribatlona were received, all wondered where the large quantity of beautiful garmenta eoald have come from, jfrrarjr

tbem was

new to their wondering eyea, but they never guessed the donor nor ever knew the whole coat of tbe sacrifice.

MM Spirit* the CNrt 3

',im

Tha Naw York Sun baa thia to aay of the medlnmiatia witness in the Deecher case: The leading charactariatic of Mra. Palmer, the woman witnees of Monday, is her spiritualism. She is a clairvoyant medium, aud professes to believe that aha can, while in trances, communicate with dlaembodied spirits, or can aee them when ahe la only alightly under apirit control. Her experience in tbe court room according to her own account, haa been of the oddest kind. She says that she baa, every day, seen the apaitment moredenaely populated with kpirtta than with mortals. The air has been crowded with spirit partisans of Mr. deecher and Mr. Alton, invisible to othesa, but visible to her. She represent* thia aort of attendance as embracing many dead men and women of his toneal pnminea«e, aad their noiseless diaoussionaof the merits of the caae in the very presence of the jury as exceedingly intereeting but they are honorably oarefai net to influence the jurymen. Waabington is unbiased Judge fidmonds and Franklin are steady visitors, and are favorable to Mr. Beecher and the stauncheat spirit friends of Mr, Tllton, Demudkthenea, Moaeaand Lafayette. The most enlivening apiritual scenes of the oourt room, however, aa she describes them, are the marahalinas of the respective apirit bands of the plaintiff ana the defendant. They cany banners, and float about ill antagonistic

arraya. Antony ia the leader of Mr. Beeober'a ghostly company, aad Mr. Tllton'a is led by Cleopatra. During many hours of ner attendance, Mrs. Palmer has excited wonderment b: staring into space, moving her. lipa lently, and paying no heed to the tangible proceedings. At otber times she has loquaciously told the women who sat near her of witnesaing clairvoyantly the movements Of tbe spirits.

THE WARM HAND OF SYMPATHY. Till we have reflected on it, we are scarcely aware how much the sum of human happiness in the world is indebted to this one feeling, sympathy. We get cheerfulness ana vigor, we scarcely know how or wken, from mere association with onr fellow men, and from the looks reflected on us from gladness and enjoyment. We catch inspiration and power to go on, from human presence and from cbeerfol looks. The workman works with added energy from having others by. Tbe tall family circlo itas a strength and life peculiar to ite own. The substantial good and the effectual relief which men extend to one is trifling. It is not by those, but by something far lesa costly, thai tbe work is done. God has insured it by much more simple machinery. He has given to the weakest and poorest power to contribute largely to tbe common atock of gladness. Tbe child's smile and laugh are mighty powers in this world. Whon bereavement baa left you desolato, what substantial benefit Is there which makes condolence acceptable It cannot replace the loved onea you have lost. It can bestow on you nothing permanent. But a warm hand haa touched yours, and ita thrill told you that then was a living response there to your emotion. One look, one human sigh, done more for you than the costliest present could convey.

THE BRIGHT BIDS.

Look on the bright side it is the right side. The times may be hard, but it will make tbem no easier to wear a gloomy countenance. It ia the sunahlne, and not tbe cloud, that makes a flower. There ia always that before or around ua which ahould cheer and fill our heart with warmth. The aky ia blue ten timea where it ia black once. You have troublea, it may be ao have others. Nona are free from tbem. Perhapait is aa well that none should be. They give sinew and tone to lite, fortitude and courage to man. That would be a dull aea, and tbe sailor would never get skill, where there was nothing to disturb the surface of the ocean. It the duty of every one to extract all tbo happiness and enjoyment he can without and within him: and, above all. he abould look on the bright tide of things. What though things do look a little dark—the lane will turn, and tbe night will end in broad day. In the long run tbe great balance rights Itself. What ialll becomee wall wbatta wrong, right. Men are not made to bang down eitheghbaada or lipa, and tboee who do only^ahow that the eparting from tbe patha of true and right. There ia mote virtue in one aunboam than in a whole hemisphere of clouds and gloom. Therefore, we repeat, look on the bright aide of things.

THE OOMINO WOMAN. atom/ Pvtlhe emphatically I that worthless

#WAen—" And after my moot rbidding the house to Muggtem you must si-

low him to escort you homo test night. (Withemotion) Oh! my daughter, you wiU bring your old father's gray bain in to tbe grave."

sorrow Daughter-

Well, pa, it was raining

hard, and Mr. Mugrtson waa tbe only ere who bad ant

young man there and, you know, I

Saturday Evening MATT./ FOB THE TEAR 1875.

A MODEL WEEKLY FAPEK I0R THE HOME.

TERMS:

One year, Stxmonr Three

all and oAM Sttbsertpttons will, lnva^ibe discontinued a,t exjriretlaa tf 1 for. Eboouraged by the extraordinary success which has attended tha pahl inatiaa of THIS BATURDAT EV2NIVG MAIl*l)l«publiafa

\JBEA UTIFULTWIN BRIDES. [From txe Cincinnati Enquirer.^ We had the pleasure to see the newlymade twin brides at tbe Gibson Housa last night, and mast confess that a mora per fast exemplification of the French story of Giipne-Giiofia oould hardly exist. Tfaey were at supper with their husbands last night when we saw them, aud a nice little tea party tbe four made. The bridegrooms are brothsra, but not twins. It ia no( often in a lifetime tliat one is permitted to see two brothers married to twin sisters. The husbands are easily distinguished the one from the other. The elder one wears full whiskers, while the younger haa simply a mustache. The trouble to be appro*, handed ia in tbe sameness of the wivea, and a very pretty sameness it is. To use a homely but trite phrase, they are as like as two peas.' To describe the one would bo to describe both. They are of medium size, perfect brunettes, dress exactly alike, and seem to be about twenty years old. Beauty haa rlohly endowed these fair bridea and placed ita dimpled seal in the cheeks of each. How, in the order of human passion, it oame to pass,that either of the husbanda oould fall in love with hia wife without falling in love at tbe same time with her sister passes onr understanding. It has been suggested that each of the Moigan brothersfell in love with both theStaurt sisters, and, to settle the matter, nut their sweethearts in a bag, shook

fem

up, and drew outs for the one that came out first. We suppose they know, but we don't see how either of them knows to which one of the twins be is married Tbey came in to supper, and by judleious assortment were seated each at the right hand of her husband. When they went out of tbe dining room one couple was allowed to get some distance in advance before the other started, to prevent confusion.

has perfected anaaaementa by whlnn it wtn henceforth be one of the most popular papers in the West. 1- 4 In }u-n isri .:» THsoaoMKOf

Two BeaatiMGhromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and after thta date. ThM? beautiful pictures just from the hands of the French chrome artists, are faithful copies of oil pain Unas bit. the artist W. H. Baker, of Brooklyn. Ofcef entitled

"Cheny Time"

-I

(without oaromo) (without GhiMae)_~~JW ets.

Represents a bright faced boy, eomlng ftfcm the orchard, bountifully laden with the Ml. ripe fruit. The other, entitled

"lily of the Field"

Is a beautiful little girl, with one of the sweetest of faoee, gathering lilies in tbe Ml. One tt a W6od seem*, the &her has an opdn aaeadow tn the back ground. They:, are of striking beauty.

Fbr one dollar e&tra (9S.00 in all,) we will send The Mall one year and both chrenioa mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold la the art stores at FOtJR DOLLARS BACH.

-it I

FRAMES.

We have made arrangements with an ex-j tensive manufactory of frames by which we1' ean furnish for One Dollar a frame usually S0I4 for 1110 and IL7*. These frames are of the best polished walnut and gUt. Hereisthe

BILL OF PRICES.

The one year aad choice of Chro* mo...- 13 40 The Mail one year and Both Chromes mounted.^ 8 The Mall one year and Both Chromos

FRAMED. 5 00

Tkri SATtrRDAYEVENINO MAIL an Independent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed on eight pages of book paper, an^ alms to be, in every sense, a Family Paper. With this aim In view, nothing will appear^ 3 In Its columns that cannot be read aloud In the mo«t refined fireside clrole* ....

CLUBBING WITH OTHER PERI- 1 ODICALS. We are enabled to offer extraordinary ina in he a of in it A er periodicals. We will furnish THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, PRICE PER YEAR, and elthe* of the above Chromos with any of the periodicals enumera- ., ted below at greatly reduoed rates. These periodicals will be sent dlreot from the effloes of publicstlon. Here is the list: 8EMI-WEEKLY.

irvuiw.......<p></p>Chromo.—.

ra^.

XTtMJJCJ I

Skmd-WtMu New York Trfbvnt, prloe I&00, The Mall and Chromo_ %i 60 WEEKLY PAPERS.

The

IndkmapoHi Journal, price 13.00, Mail and Chremo ......... /iMftonapott* Sentinel, price $2.00, The

WW*

Mall and Chromo.^.„...„..........v 8 y. r. TtOmm, price 1100, The Mall aad Chtomo 8 SOP Toledo Blade, price 12.00, Tho Mall and i.

Chrome. 8.60 N. Y. Am, The Mall and Chremo 8 00 PratrU Arsier, peios t&OO, Tho Mat! and Chromo S 64~ WHem Rural, ftica KM, Tbo Mall and z'*+

Chromo. —8 6% CMnt« itiitwrn, price The M«ll and Chromo 4 0# Chicago Interior, prloe 18.50, The Mall and Chromo... OMoago Inter-Ooean, price $1.50, The

4 or 8 26 asri4 ss

Mail and Chromo.... Appleton'i Journal, price $4.00, The Mail and Chrome Rural New Yorker, price 93.00, Thf Mall and Chromo....» Hearth and Home, price CUM, The Mali and Chromo.MeUuxM, prloe I&69, The Mall and

Cbromo.m..M.^«.„... Harper'* Weekly, price &.00, The Mall and Chromo... Harper'* Bamr, price 94.00, Tbe Mall and Chromo Frank Ledie* IU%utrated Newspaper, price H.00, The Mall and Chromo^ LcaUee Chimney

,KA

8 60 6 60 6 SOt fttiO

Corner, prloe $4.00, The

Midi and Chr»mo„ 6 00 Jky*' and OtrW Wetkly, price SziO, tue Mall and Chrome 8 75

MONTHLIES.

Arthur't Heme Magottne,

price f&fiO,

The Mall and Chromo $4 00 Aterwti'i Magaelne, price t&OO, The Mall and Chromo 8 60 American AgrictUlurUt, price 11.50, The

Mail and Chromo*..... $ 00

Qodetft Lady's Book, price 8S.00, The MaUandCBPomo ...„. 4 50., tMUe Corporal, price 81.30, The Mall and

Chroma... 8 60 aortbner'u Monthly, price $4.00, The Mail and Chromo... AOemtte Monthly, prloe MM, The MaU and Chromo—,.. Old and New, price $449, The Mall aad

8 20

6 20

Chromo VerUmd Monthly, price $4J0Q,The Mall and

6 00

.................. 0 00

Magaine, price $4X0, The MaU

and Chromo. 8 60 Gardener'* Monthly, prieeffZjOO, The Mail and Chromo.—— 3 60 Young Fotiu Rnrxtl, Tbe Mall and Chromo- 3 75 The Nunery, price $L60, The MaU aad

Chromo 8 10 St. NkMao, price 8&00, The Mall and Chromo 4 40

All the premium* oflEred by the above pnb UcaUons are included in this clubbing ar rsngement.

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

8SJOO.

JUST LOOK AC IT

The Mall, price.— Your County paper, prtoe._.—...r

Total

All

theee—(M0)—for

umbrella

't grins to have

my new soring hat ruined for a few gray hairs."

ten

Address Wm WmfAlln ,, Publisher Saturday Evening Mat, TEBREHAUTE,Iiro