Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 6, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 7 August 1875 — Page 6

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IIP

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

DOMESTIC DIPLOMA 71*.

She *Hwatching at the window, As I hurried down the street, In the simple brown merino

That I toner look* so neat, And ber •mile I thought portentous, It was exceeding sweet. Then she met me at the tbmhhoMi

With a very loving kiss, That recalled the early stages

Ajvtf I felt at once a tremor— Was there anything amiss?

Sof the children were all quiet, And the earth was very bright, And my pet—oar roguish Charlie—^

Was quite festal in his white: Tet I braced myself for something, f,. Be that something what it miglit.^j-y

Jly chair was near the Are, And my slippers by its side- fh My pipe was very bandy,

And my papers open wide. And she wore the pretty breastpin That I gave her when a bride.

The dinner was perfection—f It was lavish without waste: TheToup was vertnlcllll,

Ami exactly to my uwte, while the dessert was a triumph Jfv'J "Of artistic skill in paste.

5»

And when the mt-al was over, And the Inner man at rest Bhe drew her chair l**lde me,

With the baby on her breast, I f»lt, and so I to»d her, I wa» one among the bleat.

0fi he smile of tender radiance "Jfiat illumined her face, As I clasped her to my bosom in a lover's fond embrace. It was then she softly wlilrfpi.rc-a—

Won't you let me have that lace?'

[Overland Monthly.]

I N E A

The time-keeper lea his scat by the deor as the whistle sounded from the roof of the Doller-bouse and theecboos of its booming shriek came back from the liilis serosa the ravine through -which the Black River found its way. lie had handod in his report at the office before the slackening speed of band and whoel and shafting had softened the clamorous whir of the spindles mid the rumbling of the mules to a whisper and then CO sllot'co when down the staireases of the groat central tower, past the MOW unguarded door, and out into the gray darkness of the late twilight, rustled a crowd in calico, dividing into t'ireo streams as it Hashed over the threshold, one going north to the corporation boarding-bouses, another taking |ho opposite direction toward the meaner part of the small village, and third oroeeing the canal directly to the tenouwtita tUmly seon on its other baok. The hundred windows of the huge mill shone yellow. Totravolerson the "down oxpross" that stood by the station platform, the putnpof its safety-brake panting as if impatient of the delay, these lights seemed golden flecks in a mhio of prosperous industry, ami their distant

tlcsvmmultitude.

suggested pleasant thoughts of a ttrv Noar to the wall* the' slanting ravs lighted up indistinct figures, hustling away in long proce««dons that broke into knots or separated into Individuals. They were mainly those of women. Some woro shawls drawn over their heads otbors were still sheltered by the straw hats that had »ecn service "under the lu at of .the summer sun some stepped alone with a sort of sorrv Jauntlnessin feathers and feminiuo 'trapping that fluttered and swim.: in the glunoing reflections from above.

With a clang of tho bell the train moved on toward tho great city. Tlio lights disappeared by sections from the front of the mill—a score of window* being blotted out at qnoo, Uko a wink o!" Arnu*—and the fow hurrying feet that sped away through the gathering darkness lclt behind them a towering black monument, whose broad stony expanse was rtdlovod only bv the glimmer of a lantern her' and there as it passed window alter window at tho pace of a man's wa,k- ,.

Tho mills had closed for tho night. But before the last row of lights wont out, there stepped through tho vacant doorway Vet another figure in calico, not hastily, l»ut with an expectant air, as if the deW bad been with a purpose. Even in the dim light, nml clothed in mean and malodorous factory dress, It could be seen as that of a voting woman, tall boyoud the usual height, slim, and graceful lu movement. The girl came slowly out and paused at tho bottom of the granite step*. A fjulek but shuffling foot-fall was heard upon the path of cinders leading up from the canal. It came nearer, anil a man's form appeared in the glneni. The girl stepped out toward H. "Joel" she said.

Tho man, who was In worklug-dross and carried a tlu pail, with a cup of the same materinl set on the top like the turret of a monitor, turned quickly and peered at the speaker.

Whv, Mary 1" ho said, with something Ake annoyance in his tone "I didn't want you to wait for mo tonight. I'm late now, and the boss '11 be mad enough. You'd better go right home." ••••_

Rut, Joe, I wanted to mm you particular to-night. Can't you spare a minute?" Then, with a certain Irrelevancy trastins with rt»«veiu*H**»fJ»r her voices

What's made you so late for the last week,Joe?M "No matter What's made me late. The has asked that question too often now, and I don't want him to ask It again. (Jive me a kiss, Mary, and r«i off."

With a tighter tone in these last words the man's figure leaned toward that ot the girl, andalendcd with it for a mo went in the darkness. Hut one who «nuld have seen this would have noticed that the shadowy heads did not meet, and that a movement of the shawl indicated a gently repellent motion of the rirlN band.

No. dear it bait kliwesthat I want." sadly. "Ikm't

you do thstigaln, Mary," »0d

tho man.' -1 don't want aaypw running after me there. There's the boss a lantern coming through the drying* room. You just run along, and well •ettle all that the day alter to-morrow. I have all dkjr Sunday. If you wont •ive me a kid-—"

As many as you want, Joe, dear. There! there!" And the shawl rose *nd tuined the shadow of the man's aboutdei* a* If two arms had been Hung a£»und hta neck, and thsw f»* whi»^T^Onlydon't goto.the HOa SnnxL Joe. not come and talk with me

rapidly, and as she neared the frail structure she saw another form, clad similarly to herself, seated on the stone coping of the bank. She would have passed ft unconsciously, but for themct that along rav of light, possibly from Joe's lantern, shining through one of the windows of the mill, fell by chance directly on this object. The fhoe showed plainly in the distant reflection, and Mary recognized it.

Aggie!" said she, "what are you do ing onThere in the cold T" "Oh! how you frightened me! Have you just got through work? I thought you were at the house long ago."

The speaker was a girl smaller in stature ana younger in ner tone and in her manner than the one whom she addressed. In the darkness of a November evening in New England she also appeared only as a shadow, petite and round, if the could be trusted to give an

dim ontlines accurate token and as her taller corn panion enveloped her with a dusky and indefinite arm, the gesture itself told of a sentiment of affectionate protection which doubtless a fuller light would have displayed in the countenance.

We'll go there together," said the taller, gathering the little figure closer to her. ''What did you want to oome oat here in the dark alone for?"

I hadn't been here but a minute, and I was thinking. Mary, I might as well tell you now—all the help will know it to-morrow—they are going to send off half the hands next week, and run the mill on short time. There, now, isn't that just my luck, as soon as I'd got a good place and father's out of work too, down to the Falls, and mother's sick."

The brevity of this statement by no means measured its. vast import. To diminish production one-half meant want and suffering to at least three hundred whose wages came from labor in the granito mill, possibly to both of the companions who now discussed the event. It was a personal matter to each, lar beyond the laws of demand ami supply which regulate the movements of corporations. Fully realizing what it implied, the cheerfulness of the elder girl was compelled by the consideratenesaof love as she responded:

Well, you won't hare to go, Aggie, I don't believe. 'Tisn't likely no way at all!'

Yes, I shall," said tho other. "I'm one of the now help, and they will go first. You are safe enough but I don't know what I snail do. I can't go home!"

441

don't believe it," said tho taller.,

441

know it's so."

Who told you?"

44.Joe

Dunham.

watchmen, yon know," said the lit,tloii ure. with a certain hesitation. "Hi.-, boss tola him Kilpatrick got the order from the city last week."

Joe should havo told me," tho other began under her breath. But who was this to whom Joe had gone with his chatter of freshest gossip, while she herself was put off with a hurried meeting? Her only friend in the throng of mill operatives that swarmed about her. The one whom sho had chosen to protect and love, and to share in every secret except the single groat mystery that of lato had oppressed her soul with mingled happiness and fear. She was truo to Aggie, and Joo must bo loyal to her. The two were all who had, and she bravely conquer ad the bang of suspicion that was about to liud a voice in words.

Mary Wilson was quite alone in the woil i. Time was when the Wilson's wero the great family of that region. For three generations a Wilson had preached (JaTvinlstic theology from the pulpit of tho old white church that nowstood, brown and dismantled, deserted for a more lively edifice in the centre of tho new town. About this clang traditions in all of which the Wilsons liud lart. The older inhabitants still chuck.od and wagged their heads when thoy told the story of the Squire Wilson who espoused the patriot tause, whilo his brother, the doctor of divinity, remained a stout Tory, llow, when the latter read from the pulpit the thanksgiving proclamation, ending, "God sftvo the ('ominonwealth," adding, of his own loyal motion, "And I sav, God save the king!" the doughty squire had risen In his square pew at the head of tho aisle, and committed blasphemy in the sanctuary bv exclaiming: "And I say, God damn the king!" 'Hiis

WHS

lo the

One of the figures dtaaweareci »n joe darker sl«de of tho"mfl£ The^ber ..••it moment, as if ga*ing_ after

r& g& wL & wlfclag

the Wilsons had passed away from A*hton and, like many strong families, had suffered a sharp descent frmti prosporous days to obscurity and almost extinction. The gossips shook their heads again over this decadence, and mumbled another tradition to account for it.

Far back of the profane patriot squire thero was an ancestor yet more strange. It

WHS

in the days when. Ashton and

many wooded leagues beside were held by Captain Wilson with other colonists who owned him leader. Those were the days when men went to the plow with a gun slung from the shoulder as well as a goad in tho hand, and when the muskets were stocked in the aisle of the ehurch for use in repelling any sudden assault of the Indian foe.

On a Sunday night, so the story ran, tho groat attack V«* made whose memory is preserved in the name of Black Itlver. The Bottler* hmle their last stand upon its bank*. Of those who fell dead among the ruins of their burning houses, and of those who tied to the woods to returil after many days, famished and balf-froren, to the ashes of their homes, the records of Ashton preserve tho full light. The Mary Wilson of those days was not among this number. When Captain Wilson, coming Imck from his mission to the neighboring settlement lower down tho valley, searched the blackened foundations of his dwelling, he found neither chaired corpse nor mutilated body. His daughter was gone, and he mourned without hope.

It was v«*r* after, when a treacherous peace ruled between the colonists and the Indians, that a woman, wearing a blanket mid with uncovered head, came to his door tuid claimed him as ffcthor. She carried tho degrading marks of Indian servitude, and she told him of children bom to her In Indian wedlock, and of a home under the hide-covered poles of the wigwam. Thev clad her. once

acrid the woman, aadiy. "Hont you.-,-kwtw? 0! Joe, don't you know wh more in the .a^j tiK nil ihu hood.tho tradition goes on to say wept over ner, wondering at her strange stoifffetm placed her twain at her father's right hand at the table, and took her to the family seat in the meeting-house.

w*ek? I've cried myself to sleep, and once I went round to your boarding*

The Bible, over which the stem captain loaned as he ottered np the prayer of

thanksariving for release from captivity, was that evening wet with unaccustomed teeu*.

But In lb# morning the wanderer w*s gone. She bad wrapped her blanket about her and stnlen away In the night.

Hftin it was yt*rs belote word came from u*ry Wfison. A boy.Uutjogh whose copper-colored skin shone the bright Caucasian blood, .brought a leaf torn from the Ooepel of St. John, upon whose narrow margin was scrawled her •lory. The tribe was smitten with smaliSTxf Husbund, chUdnm, all had died. She herself was dying «d*l*berejdwt son, only remained, Might the God of tffttbteand of berfltthsw turn the hearts of the grandparents to iwr

TEftRE HAUTE SATURDAY

ed that the infected youth should be driven forth. It was his grandfather who shielded him In close seclusion until it became evident that the pestilence had passed him by, and he was received as a brand from the burning, as one especiallerved by Providence for great

ly reserved things. Here the details of tradition History steps in to tell how the halfbreed grandson of Captain Wilson continued the fondly that must otherwise have become extinct, and how his descendants held high place in all the colony.

If there be recurrent periods inhered itary characteristics, it might be said that the wild, restless, improvident Indian nature bad re-appeared in the later generations of the Wilsons. The name, which had held a prominent place on every tax-list from the days when the yearly dues were paid in com, had finally disappeared with the death of Mary's father. The property bad long since been absorbed by new-comers. Old beads alone now retained a memory of what the Wilsons had been. Maty, the last of the line, was as solitary and estranged in the midst of the multitude as her ancestress in the wilderness.

Rising from the darkness of aboriginal paganism, the race seemed about to sink riow in the night of civilised barbarism. Many of the characteristics as well as the misfortunes of the doomed Indian reproduced themselves in this girl. Uneducated, impetuous, fierce in her prejudices, and headstrong in her confidences, she was by nature set apart from tho crowd of New England factory-girls aiiiong whom sho lived and struggled. Her one wild passion had for its object the young night-watchman at the mill. Her affection, equally rash and equally strong, was lavished on the commonplace girl by whoso side sho walked through the gloom to the dingy board-ing-house. For either of these she would yield, do, or endure anything. "You sha'n't lose your place, Aggie," were her good-night words at partuig.

There was but one way in which she could make her assurance good. The discharge had been long impending. The times were hard, the market over-stock-ed, the mills losing money. Personal solicitations, had the poor girl the influence to urge them, would be unavailing. If Aggie remained, another must go in her place. She would accept the alternative. Sho knew what it meant. It would be cold and hunger, and, if sickness came, possible destitution. But, with a recklessness foreign certainly to her New England blood, she took the chances that she might serve her friend. She was alono in tho world, while Aggie bad a family to whom half her wages went but it was not so much a feeling of duty as the blind fatalism of affection that led to this sacrifice.

On Saturday the announcement of the reduction was made, and Mary carried out her plan. Then camo weary days, weary to heart and to mind. For Joe's light fancy for the strange impulsive girl gave signs of fading. What was in the man's case an effect of tho lax morals of a factory village was in hers a true affair of an untrained heart. With him it was a vagary, with her it was life. Tho Sunday conference brought no satisfUction, and sleep found her poor pillow always wet but, like the Mary Wilson of colonial days, she clung to the man who had dono ner heart the greatest wrong.

Night now fell earlier. It w«s darl? when she took her place to intercept Joo on his way to the mill so dark that her tall figure was not distinguishable from tho gato-way against which she leaned wulting. For days sho had not met her lovor, and the thought had forced itself more strongly upon lier that she was shunned.

As sho stood straining her oyes into tho blackness that hid everything, foot steps approached. Tho new-comers wero two, and th'Oy stopped as if for farewell so near to Mary that aho held her breath to avoid discovery.

(lood-l)y!'' spoke Joe's voice from cut ihe deep shadow that concealed all surrounding objects. "Meet me at tho same place to-morrow."

Mary clung to the railing, listening for tho answor. It came, in tones only too familiar:

one of the traditions. But

Good -by, Joe! Don't forget anything you have promised mo. You're a forgetful fellow, and I don't believe you care half as much for mo as you pretend." Here thore was a sound as of a physical protest on Joe's part, with suppressed aughter from the girl.

I he Indian spirit that had slumbered for generations now asserted its immortality and claimcd full possession. Her ancestral brave planned the massacre Of the Ashton colonists with no more bitter cruelty than this metamorphosed facto-rv-girl plotted with herself against the two persons for whom an boar Before she would have given up life itself. She arose from the frozen ground, transformed as if by the evil Influence latent in tho blood of her race. If it had waited long and quitotly for this opportunity, it now boldly asserted its dominion. It might have been an implacable Indian that strode off under Mary Wilson's Aided shawl to her lodgings. Her thoughts were too wild for a civilised brain or for the days of looms and railways.

She pondered through the long night. At the same place," he had said. That place was the other side of tho deep and slow-moving canal which supplied sower for the mill. They came straight up the path. They must have crossed the fool-bridge together—thus her thought* ran—should they ever cross it aualn It was clear and simple. To move one end of the plank so that the vibration of a body crossing should dislodge It from the bank to watch the ffcithtess lovsr and the firiae friend step

Suddenly as the purpose had formed itself in her mind, details came with terribie slowness. It was as if the blow that had awakened her worse nature had st unned instead of quickening her intelligence. The idea of vengeance bad presented itself naturally and promptly as she srose from the gnmnd, on wtosti alas had sunk with no feeling bat that of woe and sell-pity In her heart and in place of the £pid sug««Uons that bad before courted thrwoiB her brain, and tnemingled teamandmonns thsi bad expressed her oaln, there was now one doll and etolklimpalss prevailing over all else, and working itauf oat by slow, laborious, and cruel methods.

Tike change was hsrdly that which plaoe whsa an insane mania seism theJndTltoWiison wssnotjw»d, knows msdn—• la ner short sssson of unconscionwHas new md strange soul And fearfol «ul KHirmrt toMrre entered the vsoant twain

and heart leaving the former occupants to wander t! er over or ment that had Even mere despotic than the possession of scriptural narrative, the demon that had entered Into the poor girl left no sense of a present Deity to be worshiped or to bs sought in prayer. All wss dark and blank but the one dreadful purpose to which she was moved with the persistency of an Implacable savage

broagh inanity with Mo powcUn upon the bodily sane-* had been stolen from them.

"$hat was the impulse that drove her away from her lodgings, away from the sound of the rattling mill, and away from the village streets crowded thrice a day with a hastily passing throng? Could she have tola? Conla she have accounted for those wanderings through the frozen woods those hours spent crouching under tho bank of the ravine, where the rush of the Blsck River over its bowlders drowned alt the sounds of civilization, and the sighing spruces shot out every sight? She knew only that she hated the feces of her fellowbeings, their voices, and their society. They were nothing to her until she had done what she must do, snd then what would they be? Thought reached no farther, if she might be said to think.

The same power that had impelled her as in a dream all day brought her, draggled, famishing, and burning with a heat that had no wholesome warmth for her pinched body, to the rendesvous by the canal. There was a pitchy darkness over all. The swirl of the water in the unfrozen canal alone told what lay beneath the narrow path which conla now bo traversed only by familiar feet after passing the guide-posts that were felt, not seen, on the bank. Even the tbin snow found no gleam which might reflect to the clouds that lowered above. The lights tint shone dim through the paper curtains of the board ing-houses where the operatives wero at supper, seemed to stop short in the distance and lose themselves. The mill towered grim and silent on the other side.

Panting, and with a strength that was scarcely ber own, the girl wrenched the plank aside from its insecure fastenings. Deliberately she balanced it upon tke edge, testing its equilibrium with her foot. It wavered under her weight.

With an Inarticulate sound expressing satisfaction, sho turned and walked in the direction from which one must come to cross to the mill. She crouched in tho darkness beside the path, silent as the Indian in ambush. One idea alone possessed her sullen mind it was that of two footsteps, and the fate of two persons. This accomplished, thore was nothing in the future. Persent revenge was all.

Tho timo was well choson. Down the path came the sound of foet and of subdued voices. Not even a darker shade was visible upon the universal shadow to mark tho advancing figures. Thoy existed to tho senses only as the noise of crunching snow and the murmur of softly spoken words. Thus they came nearer, and Mary's heart grew harder as the ripple of laughter and the low response fellon her ears.

They were opposite her, when she heard, as if continuing a subjoct already spoken of, the man's veice saying: "No she's too flighty. I wouldn bother myself about her any more, if was you."

But she isn't flighty to mo, Joo. If vou knew her you'd say so, too. And don't know what's boon the matter with •her."

What difference docs it uiuko, Aggie? She's a shiftless crazy thing, or she wouldn't havo left tho mill, where shr was earning good wages, for nothing but her laziness."

O! Joo! you don't know, or you wouldn't talk that way. O!" and sobs camo through tho darkness, "I've been wicked to let you think such things of Mary. She needn't have left unlessshe'd wanted to." "I hope I know that," said tho man, half-sneeringly.

But she gave up her place to me. O! so generous as she is 1 didn't knmy of it until she had fixed It all with the foreman, and tUoh sho only kissed me, and said, "A^rgie, I told you you wouldn't have to leave."

It's just as shiftless, anyway." "Joe, do you care anything for mo?" said the girl's vbice, angrily.

Of course I do," was tho reply, rt

Do go along!

That's enough for to-night!" Mary sunk to tho ground with a moan as her lover walked through the gato and Aggie tripped off toward the town. She lav there, dazed by the sudden revelation, until tho cola wind that blew away tho clouds from tho face of tho stars had chilled her poorly clad form. Her heart was frozen, too, and she aroso hating and yearning for revenge against the lover who bad cast her off, and the friend who had robbed her of her lover even while accenting hersacriflce of comfort. She would do no more of it.

Thon quit talking that way aoout my best friend, who's as much better than lam as yon can think. Sbe'sjustthe best girl in Ashton, and I won't goasficp farther with you to-night if you don't sav so."

For the first time in that cold and drearvdav a shiver shook Mary Wilson'slimbs. Aggie's dress boil brushed her in passing, and she had followed close, hearing every word that was spoken. Blinded as her heart Was to reason, the ovil spirit that thero found occupancy shrunk before the voice of whrm and sincere kindness. Her soul struggled feebly as if awaking. She began to know, in a dim ana confused way, that Aggie was unconscious of guilt in stealing her lover, that her sacrifice was appreciatod, and that the one friend left her in tho world was Imperil ed by her hand. She again felt the weakness of tho evening before overcoming her.

A moan arose to her lips, but was crushed dowti. What, after all, was Aggie's affection with tho loss of Joe? Could It a»ono for the shame and the misery advancing upon her with the certainty of invincible fate as the result of ber wild passion Could it make the dread fill future as tolerable for ber as even the miserable present Better to make one final sacrifice and gain oblivion for herself, while leaviqg Aggie to hor own happiness.

She was now trembling In every limb. The demon tore her as be wss driven out by the exorcism of divine charity. Weak and fettering, but with a new purpose, she gathered ber strength and sped past and before the loitering companions toward the canal. Stooping where she bad bent before, she sought to lift atid replace the plank. Her force seemed exnausted. The heavy timber swayed but refused to be pushed into its former position. She straggled with desperation, for laughing vole® was approaching. A vertigo seised ber as with ono supreme effort the plank moved aho leaned forward upon it, and with a swift sliding motion It plunged, dragging her with R, In to the black water of the canal.

Hullo!" said Joe, as he reached the

spot and oautloosly pot out his foot to foe! the hoards in the darkness before venturing to cross, "something's happened to the bridge. There alnt no plank here. We'll have to go round the other way." "I know what you want,* laugbod Aggie "hut I don't mind taking# longer walk with yon."

m~att1

AN OLD STORY IN ANEW DBM88. The London Dally Telegraph s«ys: Few points are more interesting and cartons in any comparison of ancient literatures than the community, and often, Indeed, the actual identity, of the tales and traditions of widely-scattered peoples. It seems well-nlgn as If mankind learned all Us nnaeiy stores in one time and place, and that, whatever else waa forgotten in its subsequent wanderings, those legends of the human childhood were remembered and repeated in every country, with such variations as lapse of years and changing manners snd language might produce. The

I I"] ft

roxnso

Galena, Illinois, wife left this

note pinned up In the house, addressed to l£r husband: "Pnnctowi: Have gooe up to mother's to got something to eat: be sure to take the snedicine out of the right-hand tumbler, and don't let the fire go down. Brfiw home my new bonnet for Sunday, orfUquityour tod and board forever. Did the seidlita powdn do you any good? Dont get any dirt on the floor, and save this Mgjpin. "Yotrm OwurnrE."

Judgment

of Solomon" one of these "world stories" which occurs in other forms and dates besides the femiliar version to he read in the First Book of Kings, but it wonld surprise many to learn that it is found even among the peasants of Ceylon In a Buddhist dress. The "Umandava Jatakeor Book of the Five Hundred and Fifty Births of Buddha—translations from the Pall text of which have lately been given to the world by Mr. Thomas Steele* of the Ceylon civil service—contains a story of the Buddhist teacher when he was chief counsellor of King Vedeha of Miyulu, which is wonderfully like the Hebrew tale under a Cingalese garb. A woman, It is related, came with her infaiit boy to a pool in order to bathe, and, leaving him on the hank, went (town into the water. As soon as she had done so a wicked woman, seeing the child and wishing to have it, came up and said, "Friend, is this pretty baby yours? May I nurse it?" The mother replied, "Why not?*' upon which the evil-hearted woman, taking the infant and nursinghim a little while, ran off with him. The mother pursued, screaming for her son and expostulating, while the false woman boldly sried, "when didst thou owns child? It is mine?" Whilst the qusrrel went on they came near Buddha's hall, and he, hearing the disturbance, asked what was the matter? Being acquainted with the quarrel, he.said, "will you abide by my judgment?" to which they absented. He then had a line drawn on the ground, and the child laid upon it and, telling the false mother to seize its arms and the real mother its legs, said, "he shall be adjudged son of ber who pulls him across the mark." Tho wicked woman was rejoiced at this, for her strength was greater, and she prepared to pull furiously but the mother seeing that if she bold the babe at all be must suffer great pain, fell weeping, and said, "No, no! let her take the boy! I cannot bear to see him hurt!". Then Buddha asked of the bystanders.44 Whose hearts are tender to the children ?—those of mothers or those of persons who are not mothers?" They replied, "0 Pondit, mother*' hearts are tender!" Everybody answered, "She who let it go is the mother 1" The teacher then restored the child to his mother and sent her rejoicing away! Here is evidently tho same aniuent story, full of a wisdom as old and natural as mothers' love itself and none need regret if some doubt is cast by It upon King Solomon's judicial originality, when we see that his sagacity at least was founded upon what was already a world-wido experience-of the tin selfishness of maternal affection.

WOMAN ALWAYS THE SAME.

Hannah," pleaded a weak voice, "don't swear agin me."

Oh, won't I tho', you brute responded a shrill female tongue "I'll learn you better'n to oome a bruliuu' about home a' two in tho mornin'."

But I didn't do notliin'."

That's it you never do nothin* you sling your time away a-foolin' about tho streets and wearing your pants off tn barrels and goods boxes waitin' for somethln' to turn up, instead of gettin' around and turnln' somethln' up, while I kept at home a woshin' and a mendiu' and a nursiu' Tommy, an' ho a teethin'." '44 Is poor littio Tommy toethln'

Thrive a comfn' below and two above."

Poor littio Tommy ,»!i

Don't cry, John."

But I can't help it, Hannah. Flvo littio white teeth a comin', und I won't be thero when they come."

Won't be there, John No, Hannah you've had mti switched up for distnrbin' the peace, and that is thirty days in tbp 'booso."

Don't take on ^o, John. I'll go to tlio 'boose with you nlid take Tomttly along.''

Suv,you won't swear agin' me, Hannah." vj "I won't, John."

Coiue to my arms, old gal! I'll buy you a new calico dress, and we'll go to tho fireworks on the Fourth of July. Tommy shall have a rubber ring and a bottle of sirup, and you'll—come to my arms, Hannah."

Here tho husband drew the little woman over Hi* railing and frantically kissed her, whilo 'Pommy set up a jubilee of crying and soon after John wsv discharged "for want of evidence."— [St. Joseph (Mo.) Gazette.

.4 DOUBLE EXECUTION AT BAR CEI.OSA. The Opinion Nationale publishes alettfrr from Barcelona, containing a dramatic account of a double execution which has Just taken place In that town. A maid servant named Gregoria Foix, aided by ber lover, Victorirno Urieta, murdered her master, who had made a will in her favor. Tho modical investigation and a trial lasted no less than three years, and resulted in tho condemnation of both the accused, who, according to the custom, were taken on tbe evening which preceded the execution to a chapel, to remain there until the next morning. There the two convicts were only separated by a curtain, and the woman uttered such loud cries during tho night that ber accomplice had several times to Impose silence on ber. Tbe most distinguished ladies of the locality attended the woman to offer their consolations. Tbe man was surrounded by monks. During all thai time the bo vs of the choir, clad in red, yellow or blue from head to foot, went through the street*, a salver In one hand audi a bell Ln tbe other, asking for alms to meet the wsnts of tbe condemned prisoners on earth and In heaven—that ur to say, for the cost of-their interment and the performance of masses for their souls. Tbeexectitk* execution by the garotte (strangling) took place outside one of the ga^es of the dty, fn a plain, to whieh the victims were conducted by a long procession of penitents. Tfie corpses remained until 8 o'clock in the evening, exposed to the gaze of a crowd which came to contemplate eagerly the horrible contortions their Jaoee had undergone

PBOQRAUMES AT FUNERALS. rDaston Car. Chlcsao Ttates.1 Mm. Collector Simmons died the other day, and the ftineral services were of striking originality from this feet: Tbe programmes wers distributed smongpersonal friends, and at tbe church were the disposal of anyone who wouldpick them up. The selection of music Interfperseawith prayer and sermon exercises, were very line and artUk ind lasted several hours, leaving the Highlands st no^lday, and the cemetery at nightfelL

A I

Saturday Evening: MATT,, FOB THE YEAR 1875.

A MODEL WEEKLY PAPER FOR THE HOME.

TERMS: 'n

Ont year, (with chr&mo} IS 00 Six months, (without csronio)... II00 Three months, (without cbrano)H.^Jt ots.

Mall and office Subscriptions will, invariabljr.be discontinued at expiration ef time

Encouraged by the extraordinary suoeess whieh haa attended the publicities of THJB 8ATURDAY EVENING MAIL, the publish* er has perfected arrangements by which it will heneeforth be one of the moat popular papers in the West. 'y.

THE CHOICE OP

TwoBeautiftil Chromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and after this date. Thes« beautiful pictures just from the hands of the French chromo artists, are felthfol copies of oil pain tints by the artist W. H. Baker, of Brooklyn. Oae, entitled

"Cherry Time"

Represents a bright feoed bey, 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 feces, gathering lilies ln the field. One Is a wood scene, the other kns an open meadow in the baok ground. They are of striking beauty.

For one dollar extra (13.00 ln all,) we will send The Mall one year and both ehremos mounted ready for framing. These pictures are catalogued and sold la the ai stores at FOUR DOLLARS EACH.

-J-J!

FRAMES.

We have made arrangements with an extensive manufactory of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a frame usually sold for $1.50 and 81.75. These frtimes are of the best polished walnutand gilt. Here Is the

BILL OF PRICES.

The Mall ofte year and choioe of Chromo 18 0® The Mall one year and Beth Chromes mounted 00 The Mall one year and Both Cliromos

FRAMED-...- 5 00

THE SATURDAY EVENINO MAIL lsau Independent Weekly Newspaper, elegantly printed on eight pages of book paper, and aims to be, in every sense, a Family Paper. With this aim in view, nothing will appear in its column# that cannot bo road aloud ln the most refined fireside circle. »,

CLUBBING WITH OTHER PERIODICAI/9. We are enabled to offer extraordinary inducements in tho way of dubbin* with other periodical*. We will furnish THE SATURDAY EVENINC* MAIL, PRICE1 *2.00 PER YEAR, and eithta'of the above Chromos with any of the periodicals emimera. ted below at greatly rodueed rates. These periodicals will bo sent direct from the offices of publication. Ilere In tutf list:

SEMI-WEEKLY.' v» .»f:

Se»t- HVrfcty York Tribune, price $3.00, TUu Mall and Chromo.. SI 60

WEEKLY PAPERS.

fndlnnnpollt Journal, price 82.00, Tlio* Mall aud Chremo..., W jndipntpoU* Benttntl, price 2.50, Tho

Mail aud Chromo... X. Y. Tribune, price W.W), The Mall and

860

3 50

Toledo made, price fcUW, The Mall and Chromo,

A*. Y. Sttn. The Mail and Chremo., tirie Farmrr, price 2.00, Tin? Mall

8 60 8 60

Prairie and Chromo..]..' j...v. 8 66 HWrrri Jtural, price KUS0,The Mall and

Chromo 8 50 Chicago Advance, price 13.00, The M.iil and Chromo........ 4 6S CMoaao Interior, price f&fiO, The Mail and Chromo 4 00 Chicago fttier*Oc*tnt price »1j80, The

Mall and Chromo..... 8 26 Ajiptctw'* Journal, price $4.40, The Mail and Chromo 5 26 Rural Neto Yorker, price 88.00, Tlio Mall aud Chromo....» 4 25 Hearth and Il'/me, price 88.00, Tlio Mall and Chromo.. 4 60 bftlhodixt, price ?2M, The Mall and

Chromo 8 80 //flriw'i WerUy, price WJOO, The Mall and Chromo 6 50 Harper'# Btwtr, price W.00, Tbe MaII apd Chromo 5 60 Frank LetUr* IHttxlralM Js'eictjxiper, price $440, The Msll and Chromo..,,.. 5 00 iJcMlle* Chimn/Hf Corner, price 14.00, Tho

Mall and Chremo 6 00 Jiau*' and WrW Wevidy, price 9iM, the Mail and Chromo 3 76

MONTHLIES. v-

Art/tur'* /fonts Magaxint, price 82.50, The Mail and Chromo., $4 00 Petervm!'* Magazine, price 92/X), The

Mall and Chromo 8 60 American AaricuUurltl, price LtO, The Mall and Chromo...., 8 00 BcHvrreX'* Monthly, price IM0, 1 year,

Tbe Mall and Chremo...^.... Uodfp't iMtly't Book, price t8J», The Msll and Chromo IMUe Corporal, price 81.60,

Chromo. HaribMr'i Monthly, price

485 4 60 850 520

Tbe Mail snd

94JOO,Tbe

Mail

and Ch romo. —.. Old and New, price H40, The Mall and Chromo.. .... Owrkmd Monthly, price 9IXD, The Mall and Chronto. --v-—• Ifarper't Magazine, price UM, The Mail and Chromo. (JarxUrn^* Monthly, prloe|2jOO,The Mali and Chromo... ——.... Tounp /WJU Rural, The Mail sad Chro-

6 20

600

6 00

6 60

3 60

.- 2 76

Chromo —... ...... ...... .- SL Xtokobu, price t&oo, The Mail sad

810 4 40

Chromo Alt the premiums offered by the above pub' llcation* are Included in this clubbing arrangement.**

CLUBBING WITH COUNTY PAPERS, We have made arrangements to tarnish: THE MAIL, with Chromo, and any ene of the Newspapers in the neighborhood of Terre Hsnie all tor 9UD0.

JUBT LOOK AT IT!

tfbe Mali, price. 00 ToorCoanty paper, prtce. The Chromo, worth—.

Tc4fdi«.rn

ir —IS 00

All these—(«84»—bf **. Addraas 1*. R. WBTfAll, Publisher Saturday Evening Mail,

TKSUUEHAUTK, IND