Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 2, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 July 1875 — Page 3

THE MAIL

PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

8 WEETE VEN1NO.

Sweet in the evening, when from the hedges The tthadows lengthen acroas the grass. And through the tree* on the river edges

The lightx andtoucKof the water

JMUM:

When palo with their love light clouds lean over The wan. white face of tb« riuing mooH And fall of the scent of the new mown clover

Are the hawthorn lane# in the month of uue.

Sweet i* the evening for thou, Odenrwl, Who art the aweetntaw if every sweet, TTmt lent thy tone* to the tones that are cle«ri*t,

And lite meadow* are bright with the trace of thy feet, O the light of the pretence that hovers around me!

O the voice more sweet than the wild bird's tuie! O the Joy of my llfethat at length lias found inef

O tho hawthorne lanes in the month of June

Looking on the Dark. Side.

BV MHS. PAR80X

We enjoyed the pleasant, shady lot adjoining us almost ufl much as we did our own.

The time will come, husband, when a house will be put np over there, and our pretty view of mountains will be cut off,''said I, with sad forebodings. "Then the lovely shadows and beautiful outline we have gazfd upon so lonj{ will be lost to us."

Though wo thought and talked ot it ofton, there seemed to bo no real cause for anxiety. The lot was large—it was our park—and we liked to watch the cows pastured thero when they reclined and ruminated. Tho owner was not a poor man. Why should he sell it? .Still, when any ono inquired about it or looked hard at tho pretty pasture it troubled mo. No ono can understand my feelings but those whose experience has been similar. I could thiok of no romedy hut ownership.

I wish wo could buy the lot," I said to my husband. "If I only had a bag of gold."

It is valuable," said he. "Our bank stock for rainy day would not be sufficient.

It was impossible, and I knew it full well. Our homestead is not large but it is a comer lot, and that we reioiccd in exceedingly. There was the silver lining of tho sub'.o cloud hanging over mo.

Prying neighbors can be on ono side only," IUI

I to husband. It was tho

last of .March, whon, to my utter astonishment and dismay, it notice appeared in our pleasant adjoining lot. "For 8a!o" in largo letters, was elevated upon a tall board, so that everybody could soo It. My heart died within me, if such a thing can be. I could scarcely bolieve iny ej'es. I callod to mother to look out, that I might bo suro it was not a dream. Tho moment my husband came homo I drew him to tho window, saying: "I/ook at that notice!" 11c was much surprlsod and went immodiatoly to examino tho premises. Thoro were stakes, as though it had been measured ofT for a building lot. My husband paced it, ami reported that it was about /0 feet broad and 110 feet deep. "Nobody will want such a narrow lot," ho said, quito confidently.

I hopo nobody will want it," said I, dolefully. How very annoying it would le to have such near neighbors how unfortunate that our houso is so near to tho boundary line.

A day or two after this thero came an engineer, with his instruments, and he measured all about, anil (Igurod also, which was meniionod to my husband as saon as possible.

Many like to have tholr land measured by a competent person," said he. "That doesn't prove anything. I do wish, Sally, that you wouldn't look on tho dark side so often. Iet them come. Near neighbors are not necessarily annoying." "Hut they will hoar all wo say and they will know all wo do."

Indeed, I felt distressed about it. What do you expect to do and say, Hally. that must not be seen and heard 7" aaked my provoking husband, though ho is the best of men.

I must raise my voice when I speak to mother, you know. If a low voice is an excellent thing In a woman, it is unsatisfactory to a loaf person. If I keep tho curtains down, they will know what wo have for dinner. Then there is the lovely mountain. Not one inch of it can we see when that house Is staring us In tho fheo every time we look from the window."

At lemrth I stopped to tako breath. Tho torrent of words require It, and my husband looked so troubled that I hadn't tho heart to say another word. But it turned out as I expected. In less than a week a mason appeared, and then a carpenter. Wagon-loads of stono followed. "I must And out who's coming. It is high time," I thought.

My investigations were satisfactory but this wss poured Into mother's ear. ID time the cellar was dug, and we oouUl soe that the new house was to be small. Nothing indicated that auisauce, a barn and we had reason to conclude that the family would not be

"SB there must be eyes and ears, there will be few of them/' said my good husband, to ploase me.

The lumber came. Piles of Umber *nd boards blotted the nice pasture. Tho first of May the house was actually niaed. The hammering began in good •earnest, and it was deafening with all the confusion. We tried in vain to shut it out, "Only sixty hours a week. It will soon come to an end," said my longmuffle ring husband. I oomplained not a Jl title, and wished that houso could be built without a hammer and nails. "As Solomon's

Temple was," said Mother.

"It says In Kings there was neither hammer nor ax nor any tool of iron heanl tin the house while it was building." It was quiet enough while the plastering going on. At tho ond of Ih® wim* roer tho l*ou«w was completed and the premise*cleared up. There was ait opening whore some part of the mountain «ould lie aeeu, and we rejoiced over 1U It was not tbo result of chance we do not believe iu It. I went to the carpenter who was Intrusted with the whole management of the building, and I perauaded him to locate the

me. He was

ouse to suit

sure the owner a lady, ilanned.

would be satisfied with what he nil She waa a stranger, and would come when the hmaae waa ready, but not before. My diplomacy would have been of Uttle avail without a friend at court. We had bafrieudod Um» carpenter this was the secret of my success. The new house was a mart of cottage. It waa painuad sfc»ne color and the Winds were green. „Tbe verandah was ornamental So wax the Imj window opposite to our dining-room windows. The kitchen window looked into otti*. This I would dike to change, thoqg*, when the ear-]

He was as much pleased with our neighbors as tho rest of us. But my husband's time was not his own and he could visit seldom, except in parish calls. .Sermons and duties occupied him, so that his garden even was often neglected, fond as he was of it. It happened that we had strawberry plants to snare, and wo sent them over to Mrs. Emmons. Not intentionally (but by tho merest accident,) I heard Miss Lucy say: "Our noighbors aro kind, sister, but I wish they had kept their plants. We noed a bleacbiug-ground much more than a straw berry-bed." "We might spare an applo tree or two, Aunty then we could nave both," said tho gonius of gardening, Mrs. Emmons.

She seemed glad of tho plants, though she hadn't intended to have any strawberries for want of room in her small Igarden hut she would find a place for Ctiem. The plants thrived and blossomed they ripened also, and there were berries enough for a delicate appetite, the first summer. The roses bloomed, and so did some lilies.

How our neighbors worked in their garden summer mornings. They weeded and they watered. Not-one stone was left unturued to accomplish tbelr purpose, as my husband's clerical brother said. And they woro amply repaid for their toil—tbo little flower-garden was beautiful. Such pansies and pinks, such sweet peas and mignonette were not to be seen anywhere else in the village. The creepers that had been planted to shade the verandah grew rapidly, though not quite so fast as Jack's bean. By inld-aumuier the madeira vines were lovely (tho pretty honeysuckle, inspired by fertilisers, twined round the pillars the verandah and hung out its scar let trumpets until late iu October—the breezes sounded the trumpets snd the humming-birds were in raptures with them. Tne clematis vied with the convolvulus. Doth grasped with all their might everything within their reach, in the prettiest way, as they climbed upward, putting forth white flowers in abundance also purple and tinted, the last being the glory of morning hours. The canna, the tritoma and the gladiolus opened gorgeously forour neighbors and tor us. They were elegant new comers in our neighborhood. A page nearly of note-paper would be required to catalogue the plants iu the little garden. It was refreshing to go into it. The air was Oiled with frag ranee, par* Ucularly in the morning and evening and we enjoyed it as much as thooe who had tilled the ground and owned it. Sometimes my husband would say: "Near neighbors are often pleasant and bring much joy with them, Sally." The hour for confession had not yet come. All this time, while the garden was do* tng wornler*, Grace waa going in. out, and all about, chatting with everybody and soiling at everything—when she was not singing and making herself fa I to her own In the cottage.

Neither the ni»4tora» of autumn nor ti»e snow-atonus of winter prevented us from peeping Into the bright bay window, whksn waa filled again with beautv and sweetness.

penter showed me the plan but bow into the sunny dining-room, near the could a minister's wile betray such bay window and it was delightful to I could not tell my husband hear Grace play. Her^ songs were both

weakness? I could not tell my that I was rather plessed with the hew bonse, for fear of wing laughed at but mother soon found it out—a true mother easily reads her children.

Early in October there were signs of animation in the new home. Women were there cleaning it, then boxes appeared on the verandah, and then a carriage drove up with twe ladies and servant girl. "Our neighbors have arrived, mother!" I screamed from the kitebbn. They must have heard me. Having some spare time, I am ashamed to tell how I watched the doings over there. "We must not fail to bw neighborly," said mother. "Let us send them a pie and invite theui in to tea." They declined our invitation politely. Miss Lucy had sick headache. I immediately made rice porridge in my best manner, and sent it over to Miss Lucy. How could they have time to do it in the midst of moving? Our new neighbors were Mrs. Emmons and her sister. As soon as we thought it proper, we called, and found them very pleasant ladies. Mrs. Emmons, a widow, told us that her daughter Grace had just left school and would soon come to her new home. "Think af our having a young girl over there, mother!" saia 1. "It will be so pleasant for us, though it makes me think of our dear child—lost to us."

The next week a big box appeared upon the verandah. I think that must be a piano," I cried out. "That will be delightful, mother! How we enjoyed our dear child's music."

When a lovely young girl sprang into the now house,saying, "Oh! mamma how sweet it is here!" it was also announced to mother: "Our younggirl has come." And I forgot that they could hear me.

There never was a sweeter girl than Grace Emmons. Her presence brightened the whole neighborhood. She tripped about like a fairy und sang like a bird. It was so kind in her to bring in her music and sing for mother. She was delicate and seldom went out in winter. It was net difficult for her to hear Grace sing. Her articulation was ood. Grace sang some of our dear lary's songs, which brought tears to our eyes. Our piano was seldom touched until she came. Tnere Was no one to for us. Grace's ways were winning and her voice was very sweet. We couldn't compare it with Tarepa Rosa's we had never heard her. '.'Sometimes it seems as though an angel enters our door when Grace comos in, mother would say. "She doein't know how much good it does me."

Another great pleasure was bestowed by ur new neighbors. The bay window was Oiled with plants and the canary-bird's cage was hung thero. All winter there were bright blossoms in that window. Roses and geraniums, smilax and ivies gladdened our eyes, and a daphne, beautiful as possible. It was a very groat delight to look into the lovely window, and often wo could hear the canary

Singing sweetly all day long, Caroling a summer song

We did not succeed in window gardening, but we determined to take lessons of our near neighbors.

When tho weather was gloomy and stormy, Grace would come in and say: "I'm suro of being welcome to-day."

As though you were not as welcome as the sun, rtiothor replied. You aro a sunbeam and much more," I thought but could not say so, lor fear of spoiling the pretty £irl.

The pleasure that we received that winter from our neighbors cannot bo told. We always seemed to understand ono another. In tho spring wo watched them in their little garden. Our new neighbors began betimes to make and plant their garden. It was at the end ol the lot and not vory near ours. We wished it wero.

It won't do to plant boans until tho loth of May," my husband said to them. For four of late irosts," I added.

It'ia a bit of Paradise P' mother said "and it does me a world of good." What should we do without ltf* I responded, with a Utile twins* ol oooaolettoa.

Tbt piano in the outlay* was moved

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

merry and'grave. The sweet sounds came in through the windows, which were often let down (owing to fiery ftirnace,) and were enjoyed by both families. My husband was greatly refreshed Sunday evenings by Grace's music. Then we could all join in the hymn tunes. If one voice was shaky. Grace' did not mind it. A friend of Miss Lucy's sent her "Mrs. Somerville's life." It was fortunate for us, because Grace read it aloud and we all enjoyed it together. We felt proud of our gifted sister—far removea. The winter seemed shorter than usual but the spring was welcomed. Our neigh bor's little garden awakened again from its lung sleep, and Mrs. Emmons moved to and fro, with shade-hat and trowel. She bore the brunt of the work. Not that Miss Lucy was idle, but she was less strong and

We were astonished when Mrs. Emmons told us that she gathered 25 quarts of strawberries. We could not boast of gathering one single one. Her bed was small ours were large. "What a wonderful fertilizer?" we said, in chorus.

Our neighbors were generous with their bernes. Few were placed upon their own table. To my certain knowledge, many in the neighborhood were gladdened by them. I could sympathize with Miss Lucy. She didn't wish for a strawberry-bed. 1 didn't wish for near neighbors. Our curtains in the kitchen were up all day long, and I must confes that I willingly witnessed the canning of two jars of strawberries. I also beard Grace's merry laugh as she said: "Wait mamma, for my funeral march."

Furthermore, when the march was ended and the family had returned, Bridget said: "Sure there should have been a wake, ma'am."

And Miss Lucy observed: "It would have been better to bury but one jar, sister. You forget, Aunty, that Mrs. Somerville's moiher buried strawberry preserves. Why shouldn't I?"

I think it is not mentioned that they turned out well. It is a bold experiment," replied Miss Lucy.

Our intercourse has been very sweet. Not a cloud, little or great, has come between us, and at length my husband heard these words, one day: "Our near neighbors have proved a great blessing to us."

We know that good comes from seeming evil, do we not, Sally?" was my good man's response.

My husband was apt to be absentmincled when he put on his thinkingdip. It was the forerunner of a good sermon. lie seemed so just after my confession. Sometimes I have had reason to think that our every-day life suggested texts lor our minister. About this tiino ho preached l'rotn tho text "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." I took it home, though "looking on the dark side" was now omitted.

MARK WA IN'8 PILO TINO.

A Story Which Mark Hasn't Told in the Columns of the Atlantic Monthly. [3t. Louis Correspondence of Milwaukee

Sentinel.j

While sitting in front of tho Southern Hotel, talking to a future groat citizen about the old steamboat days of St. Louis, when captains, clerks and pilots ran the town, and ran it under a full head «f steam, an ancient mariner let up on whittling tire arm of tho next chair, turned toward us, and remarked "You was speaking of the old river days

We was," I replied. Perhaps, now, you have been reading some of Sam Clemens' yarns?"

I held up a copy ©f the Atlantic, open at Mark Twain's article, which had really brought about tho conversation.

Yes, I thought so well, he don't tell all ho knows," said the social riverman, reaching over for a tobacco-pouch which a gentleman was passing to a friend.

There's ono little affair Ito ain't worked into print yet, and it ain't likely he will."

The social quit off on his reminiscence at this point and talked generally about the bad out-look of the crops and the universal disadvantage of dryness. Seeing that nothing but pin and sugar would start hi in anew, he was persuaded into a convenient bar-room, and after hoisting throe lingers (held vertically), a handful of crackers and several chunks of cheese, he proceeded with his anecdote, interrupting himself a number of times to remark to the bar-keeper, tho same, pard."

I was first engineer of the Alexander

Scott when Sam Clemens (Mark Twain) was a cub in her pilot-house. He was a chipper young chsp, with legs no bigKern a anting line, and fuller of tricks than a mule colt. He worked off jokes on everybody aboard from the skipper down to the roosters (darkey deckbands), but they were all taken in good

Kck.only

energetic. Grace preferred in-doorwork.' his Saratoga. So, you see, everybody in that trade is on the watch, and an alarm of fire in a beat loaded with cotton will turn a man's hair gray quicker'n an alligator can swaller a nigger. Sam, being a young pilot, and new to the cotton trade, was told over and over again how the profession would lose a promising cub if ever a fire broke out on the S*tt and the boy got nervous. My striker and me always managed to be in the lunch-room when Sam came off watch, and as he came in we would talk about the number of cotton boats that burnt in such a year, and how such a cub would have made a lightning pilot if he hadn't

She only encouraged the gardeners her field was elsewhere. Tho last of April the bed of sweet violets perfumed the air. It was sheltered by the verandah. The lilies of tbo valley sprang up, and while their sweet bells wero ushering in the summer the roses came out in their gayest—a pretty procession. But before this jubilee our neighbor's strawberrybed "was white with blossoms. Our bed was dccked in white at the same time. "Try iny fertilizer, neighbor," Mrs. Emmons said, early in the spring. "Ammonia and niter are highly recommended."

I have always depended upon the rain that falls upon the just and the un just. My strawberry vines usually bear," said my husband.

rt, I lay by two or three to pay About the time Sam got lio

the run

of the river enough to stand alone at the wheel, the Scott went into the lowerriv er trade, carrying cotton from Memphis to Orleans.

Perhaps, now, you never see a boat in the cotton trade burn? Well you may cover your cotton from stem to stern with tarpaulins, aud keep your donkey-engines steamed up, but if a spark of Are touches cotton enough to fill a tooth, your boat's a corpse. It's quicker'n gunpowder to buru, and no pilot can reach the lower deck from the texas in time to save himself, let alone

bed he would go prowling around the lower dock and peering about the hatchwavs smelling at every opening like a pup that has lost its master. One day when we backed out of Memphis with a big cargo of cotton, I complained, in Sam's hearing, that the mate had loaded the boat too near the engines. The boy followed me into the engine-room, and without seeming to notice him I told my striker that I would do noy level best to keep that cotton from catching lire, but that it was a grim chance with bales piled right up before the furnace doors. Sam got whiter'n a bulkhead, and went up to the texas where he packed his Saratoga ready for any business that might come before the meeting. When he went on watch I posted the second clerk to keep an eye on him. He hid bevond a smoke-stack aud saw Sam alone 111 the pilot house, his hair on end, his face like a corpse's, and his eyes sticking out so far you could have knocked them off with a stick. He danced around tho pilot-house, turned up his nose like ho was smelling for a polecat, pulled every bell, turned the boat's nose for the bank and yelled 'fire!' like a Cherokee Indian on the warpath. That yell brought everybody on deck. We had a big cargo of passengers, and the women screeched, the men rushed for cork pillows, and the crowd yanked the doors off their hinges and rushed to the guards, ready to go overboard at the tirst moderation of wearlier. The skipper had hard work telOnake the crazy passengers believe tbat there wasn't any fire, but ho brought them to reason finally. I paid no attention to Sam's frantic yells, so tho boat didn't run her nozzle against the bank he aimed for. The captain and first pilot and a lot of passengers, after bunting all over the boat, couldn't find a sign of fire anywhere outside tho furnaces, and then they went for Sam. He swore up and down that ho smelt cotton burning no use of talking to him—he knew the smell of burning cotton, and by thunder be had smelt it. Tho first pilot said kind of soil and pityingly to Sam: "My boy, if you'd told mo vou was so near the jimjams I'd stood double watch for you. Now you go and soak your head in a bucket of water and tako a good sleep, and you'll be all right by to-morrow.' Sam just biled over at this, and when a pretty young woman passenger said to tho skipper, loud onough fftr Sam to hoar, "so young and nico looking, too— how sad ft would make his poor mother fool to hear how ho drinks,' he fairly frothed at the mouth. You never see a fellow so tonod down as Sam was after that, and though tho boys never quit running him he never talked back, but lookod kind of puzzled—as though ho was trying to account for that smell of cotton-smoke."

And what was the cause of the smell?" I asked mine Ancient. He chuckled a full minute, and then said:

You see there's a speaking tube running from tho engine-room to the pilothouse. I had in mind the tricks Sam had played on me, and having worked him to a nervous state about fire, I waited till he was alone in the pilot house, and thr-n set fire to a little wad of cotton stuffed it into tho speaking tube, and the smell came out right under bis nose.

little sugar in it, pard."

O TO P. BUTLER

(teen* ware, Glassware, Lamps, Etc.

HE VDQUARTER9 FOR

Chandeliers and Bar Fixtures.

or" Country Jobbing Trade solicited, and oe* guaranteed as low as any Western oeensware House.

JfAIX§TREET,

9T«rfli Hide, ketweta SHI ni Mk Ma.

oomuanft

KIJPP8TO&8

THE BIOHOVCini ntlCR PAID

H. ROBINSON. C. L. BRAM AN.

And all

andFascjr

PBODDC*.

L. M. COOK,

Traveling Hen

Engaged in any business can make their traveling expenses, by putting iu an oocaanal word for The Saturday Evening Mail, where they may stop.

~roR—

Mn Palsflsf, aralslsf s4 Marfella* Work clone for the Trade. OFFICE—at John Grierson's 8h»p, Corner Ninth aad Chestnut streets, Terra Haute, ln«l. msy»-ly

H.S.RICIlHDSIIIiCI.

JOBBERS AND DEALERS IN

WHOLESALE DEALER W

HIDES, green trimmed do green salt eared trimmed. do arjr flint, trim m«d do drV salt, trimmed CALF, 7 Ik to KIP, creen, 16 ft to 26 B. (Bon, Lou llAlr, e«t snd dam* 8be*pfiuna.^trbatehen. Lamb and ISlMevllngs BUTCHERS TALLOW

stgnmenta will

Ton win aiwaya Bad

Wholesale Trade of Terre-Haute.

The following Wholesale Houses of Tenv Haute are snppied with a Ml stock of FRESH GOODS, which wiUbesold atBOTTOM PRICES.

,i hulman

& cox

WHOLESALE GROCERS!

AND DEALERS IN ALL KINDS OF

•ws 1 1

Domestic and Foreign Wines and Liquors,

Cigars and Tobacco, Flour, Salt, Nails, &c.,

ORNKR MAK AND FIFTH STREETS,

Wholesale ^Notions, Eta,

aro. 630 MAI* STREET,

In addition to our large slock of FANCY and STAPLE GOODS, wo havo many Job-Lots in HOSIERY, CUTLERY, SUSPENDERS, «feo. Also tho exclusive sale in this city for the well known ELLIS WOOL FLANNELS, to all of which we invite an inspection from first-class and close trade.

JOSEPH STRONG,

STEAM COFFEE AND SPICE MILLS!!

XansAictarcr of the "Nterllnir" Ground Splees and Baking Powder.

Salesroom, No. 187 Main Strret, TERRE HAUTE, IXD.

JAMES B. LYNE, Wholesale dealer in 4"

PURE KENTUCKY WHISKY,

Vir FINE CIGAKK and TOBACCO, «VNo. 229 Main'Strect, (Opp. Terre Haute House,) Terre flnute, Ind.

WILSON BROS. & HUNLEY,

Successors to Tl'ELL, RIPLEY A DElVINti,

WHOLESALE DRY GOODS

CORNER 5th AND MAIN STREET,

TEKRE-lftAUTE. INDIANA.

CRAWFORD. O'BOYLE & CO. KXCI.USIVHXY W O E A 180 Main Street, Terre Ilaute^ liidinnni

HARDWARE AND CUTLREY,

199 and 1S4 Main St,, Terre Hante, Indiana.

Agents fbr tho HORNBY RICHMOND PLOW.

T. H. RIDDLE

WHOLESALE DKiLIB IX

Millinery, Straw Goods, Laces,

RIBBOMM, FANCY GOOD*. See.

Will Duplicate la*l*aapoll*ClajHaaatl or Chicago lMIIs. CKkkI Tra4« •olIelte^L T. H. in Istn St^ TWN HSBM.

LEATHER and HIDES,

...11 sogs so 7*

BAB OOMS

es1,

:SS|f!

Terre Haute, Indiana.

H. ROBINSON & CO., •,

**s'

Terre Haute, Indiana.

OW'

•4*At

NUCCEftMOKTO

COOK & SON,

WHOLESALE AND RFTAIL DEALER IN *.

-1-

ties

V**

14S MAIN ST^TRRRE HAUTE, »D.

PBICES Or TO-PAY, AID MOT TO-IOBMW, Uoless screed open by Spee!*! Contract. LEATHER.

BEST SLAUGHTER HOLE....OAK HARNEHS UPPER, PER FOOT-

CALF 1 KIP

FRENCH CALF SKIN I "KIP. 1

AMOBTMBJTT

aai Retail dealer la

Qneensware, Glassware, Chandeliers, Kerosene Lamps, &c.,

mmI

Tfppln**, Llnlnfs 4k Sfcae flsdl

bojrlnc and selling static almost exeloutre tor eash. All oidero and 111 reeefve Immediate and prompt attention.

nXTOBBS tf Ik* Wert atjlca.

I mb offering special iadmeaoti on Chin*wire, Silfer Plate* Castors, For* and Spoon, alto Table Cntlery. ,n)(

THEO. STAHL,

Mala Wiini. two iw West ol Fearth Street

i-'i

&e.

.... l-l. *i