Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 23, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 December 1875 — Page 2

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR TBB PEOPLE.

T» RRK HAUTE, DEC. 4, 1875.

THE TR VE CU URCH.

TUCODOKF. TILTOS.

One 8«Mwth morn I roamed astray, And a*k«l a Pilgrim for the way: O, l*U mo. whither "halt I search. That I may Ami the one true church

Mntrmd,'««areb the world around The one true church Is never found Yon Ivy cm the abbey wait Make* fair the t*lse*t church of all. Bui fairing be had told me wrong, I cried," Heboid the entering throng!" He answered, "If a church be true,. It hath not many,but a few Around a font the people And erwwcd themselves on tirow and breast

A ctrwta so llicht to bear," he cried, 'r is not of Christ the Crucified!— Kaeh forehead, frowning, sheds it off: Christ's cross abides through scowl ana neoflT!"

thfl** flnaer to thi lr lips the Till «wh man kissed It, and odteA,

!,ls

this the true ehnrch. then?"

He »usw«n*d,

MNay,asect

At»d ar.' t\nlali

*-vv'=*

of m«n:

\od seota, that loeJ« their door Inpride, Hhut God and half his sainU outside. 'The g»U* of Ilea veil, the i«crlptnrw say, BUutd o»*'n wMe by night and day

Ho then.tn enter, Is there need To earry key of church or eroedr* *v. HUU following where the highway TlU eluuM»*d« arches overhead.

MS-IMWIpilgrims

-j.»

t'!

We entered at the epen door. And saw meu kneeling on the floor Faint candle*, by the daylight dimmed, A*If by foolish virgins trimmed

k,"

K1V"praises

fJ,

Wo mv a *i'Ue aod wcatherwk. And srtow*whlf» rhurrh op»t» a rort,A mek where, wntnrte* Came

to tl*

FCHOM

My sandals straightway Itecaose the place was holy ground. I cried, ••Owe ehareh at tast 1 That ft*!*** o°t th* haman ntiod.

-Thtsel .JTfh ssid he, "tallketharwMU For«ai^u^^d, bai ftoac 1?

-v.

It) 4 Ivxnn

Bsiassssssir.w-ac*

The efr« r»t»fosr#vi pwa. AND ».**«SWTLWNATH was on UM* ffrass. ,1 eh* vi*Utl.-fWi! \Vh u*hi »f U*

JSHMtbf -r taught.

Sgli'

TT».

'•"•sJ ey#

*.i e»k-f^-

•Sot lAither.^^n. AogQMiMN

••Thoftgfi'AtHk w*»«hhts*w*. ^Wfao« Uiti-'hacattldaw^c m*& i-nuMWh l«U»ersoniihtwtth b«irailsglK«rV Uc^u#»'» the glory but in parts k.ThfrUttb alvln openot vide hH

W W Tliwop^ ton aort nyfsow.N|^ Ittor & *c.J«*nilor fl!l«d the plKen.

'i. aftrtsihBll ir^ $rfi

'^4*

on«- tru.' fhnnh.

ILuilh* il imlTT'i W***I

tho°'STXStlhrttl,»•»

a\,ftndtaeoaetr«*W"*»

The Mother of Ba'tiste.

Bt K. D. HCFF.

-•.

f^lr statues of tbe saints, as white As now their robes *re, in Ood slight HtAln. il windows. carting down a beam, Like Jacob's ladder in the dream. The llhrrira gaxed from nave to roof, And frowning, uttered this reproof:—

Ma« I who Is it understands OodV temple la not made with hands?

We walkwl In ferns so wet with dew They piashttl our garments trailing through Ami came upon a church whose dome Upheld a cross, but not for Home. We brushed a cobweb from a pane, Aud watched the service in the fane.

Doarayeis," he asked, "the more avail, orfVrcd If at tin altar-rail? '•rvw* water, sprinkled flroni howl, W&«h any sin from any soul 1

IK* tongues that taste the bread and wine Hi nk truer after such a sign T" then, upon a maple spray, Two oriole* perchW, and piped a lay,— Until the gold beneath tlirlr throat si Hluk molten in their mellow notes. Resounding Inm the church, psalm Railed, |tUv(.Ttng, through the ontcr calm. lloth choirs," said I, "nro accord, For both

TheIn

IxrJ."

The hints," he answered, "chant a gong Wltbeut a note of sin or wrong: "The church's anthem I* a strain Of human guilt and mortal pain." The orioles nnd the organ censed. And in ibe pulpit rose the priest. Th' Ptlgrlm whispered in my enr,

It pro tits not to tarry here," lie speaks no error,"answered *, He t. ache* that the living die

The dead arise anil both are true: Both wholesome doctrines neither new. Tim Pilgrim said, "He slrlkes a blow At wrongs that perished lung ago.

Ilut covers with a shielding phrase The living sins of present days," We turned awny among the tomlw— A tangled place of brlom and blooms. opell'tl the legends on the stones: Beneath poecd the martyr's bones,— The bodies which tlie rack one* brake la wltuw» for the dear Lord's sake,— The ashes gnthctrd from the pyres Of salntn whose souls went up through nrc.s. The Pilgrim murtnered as we passed, .,

Ho g»li.fl they nil the crown at last. Men fc»e it now througli looking back To And It at the stake and rack. he rack and stake arc old with grime (Jod^ touchstone Is the living time." itr. We pAwed wh r« poplars trsunt and tall. Let twice their length of shadow full. Then mwR meetlns-hons* In view, Of bleached and wimther-beaten hue Men plain of garb and port of heart llvkited ehurch and world apart. Nor did they vex the silent olr WHh any sound of hymn or prayer. they pressed, was Maascd.

is trrowlnB dusk one wintry day '.\fonseer Flew," the French

It was

when trader, came riding into Fort leaven worth. Ho was well known in tbej?arrison as one of the ahrewdnat and rw*hest traders west of tho Missouil, bat known only as "Monseer Pierre," for with peculiar reserve be had never men ttoned his aurname, choosing rather to accept the nickname which soon fastened upon him. "Monseer Pierre Parle.vvous" Ite was called

But now, in spite of their prejudice against him, tho half do«*n men who chanced to be lingeringoutofdoors hurried to meet tho "uionseer" as he rode in. There was a prospect of news and tfossip with every fresh corner, never disregarded at on outpost where the malls are months apart and, besides, they were surprised to see tho man at this season of tho year alone, without the train of hunters, trappers, Iudiaus teamsters, horses, wagons, dogs and all tl»e motley crowd that wero wont to attend a successful trader returning to winter quarters with the spoils ot tho summer.

But "Mouseer Pierre" did not check his horso or heed tho eager, friendly t|tiestions, except by calling out curtly, llonsoir, good friends!" Then hedrew the cape of his soldier's blue overcoat closer around a queer bundle of luirkskin heads and fringe which he carried before him on his saddlo—the men had a vague idea that it was a bag of iro!d-«-dug tho spnra into his panting horse and galloped througli the group of curious spectators across the parade ground to the littlo log house In which Major Kent, the Indian agent, lived.

He dismounted here, slipped the bri die over his arm and knocked loudly a! the door. It was opened bv a tall, tfravhaircd man, tho major himsoll Without giving him timo to speak, Pierre put his bundle gently Inside the door, grasped both the major's hands in his. and said, rapidly, "Mttfor, you once promised mo the greatest lavor I might ask. I'vo but five minutes to ask it now. That boy yonder will you and vour good lady keep him safo for me? His name's Baptiste—lor my lather. I want him bred liko a Christian and a gentleman. You know how better than I. The fact is, sir, he's my own son, and I'd like to give him a better show than over I've had. Keep him for me till spring, sir, and then I will put him into the Sacred Heart at St. Louis, with the good brothers.'' "And," said Mrs. Kent, who had followed her husband to tho door, and stood unobserved looking at the two men, "what does the child's mother say about it? ar has he none?"

Pierre took off his hat to tho lady and answered with a nervous laugh: "His mother? Oh, I forgot tc say, his mother's a Sioux Injin with her tribo up at Kearney. She'll getover it, I reckon. I shall never forget j'our kindnoss to my child, madatne. But farewell: I must be going. Clod bless you And without another word, and only a hasty glance backward into tho darkening room, ho vaulted into the saddle and was soon out of sight.

The m^jor and his wife stood watching his figure till it was lost in thetwllight.

Pierre talks less than over," said the tnujor, who till then had not uttered a woVd.

But Mrs. Kent, following, her own train of thought expressed herself ore strongly. "I don't liko that Frenchman, she said as she turned back into her room, "with his dark fiico and smooth manner. He's heartless Besides, Mr. Kent, what are we to do with an Indian papoose on our hands all wintor? Likely to get tho measles, rfhoopin* rough, ncarlot fever, croup, chicken-pox

Tho major, smiling, stopped lier. "Look there, wife 1" The bundle whleh Pierre had throat into the room still lay on the floor, but out of it had crept a dusky littlo creature about two vcars old. At the sound of the unfamiliar voices he scuttled across the room like a crab, Into the darkest corner between the bedstead and the wall, and stood there, bis brijtht black eves shining through the gloom, and a lok of grotesque sweelno**, hall timid, bfclf defiant, on his mnnd baby fac*. He was dreused fantastically. In a suit of buckskin, jacket and legging*, richly worked mid fringed with b^ads of many hues*. Moccasins were on his tiny feet a string of bear's claws and hawk's bells around his neek Jangled tow at every movement, and in hla It

-T.

long

stmight hair were twisted three or four

of ihf* ehmiffwihle humhhw from the cock's tail. The beada and bells and leather* glimmered in the red firelight with a savage splendor the little form was straight as an arrow* the tittle f«(* wrt In alt a child's dignity and the boy looked got tmllkc a babv chieftain dreesed for the mm dance— his grandfather, "tbe chief of all the glens,'

Kent*«*WOTi?y motherless lit

tle ow hurt ami tamely. "(tome boaev/'ahecried as she gathered him, buckskin, fcaUieni and ail, to her ample bosom. "Poor little man! rm *uw« mother's ywirninu sorely for you this night,"

And in the day? whioh came U» child ymrned for his mother in a/vaj pitiful to see. Or perhaps he tnUwed «w»re• the frrwh afr and the wild f*ee H«s th* Mfetrtoa and wtxjda. He was not beppy with bia kind friends, ills aew doUwa wer» a torment tohim, for as the nrst ntcp toward d-dtl»«on, Mr*. Kent strlmvedoff hi* b««heolslt gewgaws and rat him Into frock*. The daily •crumbing with snap and warm water he considers! quite unnecessary, for be had had bnt baths liefbre In Ms lift*, and thorn miu*y wayslde streain. where his mother br»k« tbe loe, held

Sot mm he enmtortable dn his soft bed, tor he remembered well How thmugh tlMt km* sntntner days be had hwrn itiumdiolottw eortw»«h«pM csaaw andhuns on tbe tew branched treea to be mcktJI by every wind that blew, as fet and drowwy ss the swaddled butterfly grub which swung by his side.

And vet be nowsr cried or fretted. He

aat patiently at Ai»t. staring at tM do «iul looking wistfully into the free any one who entered. He toddled oot whenever the door was left unlatched, and could be always captured in the back garden, digging In the earth 'browing aticks and stones at the birds flying over hi« bead, chasing the chickena, tor turingthe cat, rolling over the dogs, in the stables under the horses' feet or playing in the mud puddles with bits of bark tor canoes. And all this with such a sober, steady ardor that Mrs. Kent shook her head in despair, and wld, "Ba'tiste

whenever hia com

rade* needed to give him

lortnal or

moro distinctive title. Through tnte mock courtesy they not only resented his want or frankness, but all expressed their native distaste for bis alien blood and all the proponaiUea which It entailed. lie was not popular. The reserve in regard to his name extended to nil his private concerns, and this, with ralta of personal fastidiousness, aggros sivo gallantry antl a close, frugal habit •n money matters, made him somewhat of an offense to the free-tongued, open banded western men, who had a fashion .»f spendin« all they could get, and telling all thev knew with frank and enuaiing readiness. So tbey spoke o» "Mmse*r Pierre" with distrust, as a man who, while seeming to tako all things quietly, turned them to his own account, always had his own way, and that wuy one which invariably drew the money aside from their hands into his.

saw

his mother's child, an Indian

clear through, snd there's no use going against nature." Meanwhile tho winter had fairly set in—a regular old fashioned winter. The gari-ismi waked up one morning and

tho greet yellow river which rolls bv the fort froaan from shore to shore, the ice ao thick that loaded ot wagons could be driven across. Then It snowed by dav and fro«o at night till the whole wide prairie round the fort was covered with snow four feet deep on the level, while in the gorges and drifts only the topmost boughs of the pine trees were seen. The soldiers shoveled pathways out through the sallyports, and piled the snow high above' their heads on either side. It rmzo thero into a solid wall lasting far intb the spring. The miserable half clad, hair fed Indians al wavs hovering arquud a western fort flocked in for food and ^holler. The wlv*s did not wait to bo hunted down for, tamed by hunger and cold, they prowled close under tho walls, and s" me times at night they eveu crept in. lean and lank, with hideous howlin

anxiot

Wife," said the major, who bad just icome In—''wife, this Is Ba'tiste's mother, wire is you're born. We'll have to not her wit of the way somehow. Don't let L.er «oo tlie boy better send him bver to Thomas's quarters for the day. Olve her a good warm breakfast and tbim "And then?" said Mm. Kent indignantly. «. vVell—and then-T don't know."

At this moment Baptiate, freah and sweet fruni bia morning bath,camo running into tbe room. AVinona, crouching on I ho floor and seeming to see only her sorrow, shivered bv the Ate at hla childish tones. She turned her face toward him. With a greedy gaxe her eves wandered over his body, therf wltrt a bocmd like ft tiger, and a cry as deep, she snatched him in her arms and fell to kissing his hair, eyes, lips, bands and ftvt, murmuring over him a thousand soft Indian rtanw*. and Baptiste nestled on iter bo«tm and laughed aloud as If once more he had fouud hia home.

I wish could tell you tbe strange trtory of Iwt jottrney Just as sh* told it to the mt^or and his wi'e that morning.

i* they did, nor bear her voice, nor understand how aha pot a prayer apda sob into every won).

She told tbem that from tbe moment aha felt her anna empty and her child gone without a kiss *i»e had night and day oft* thought net life was narrowed to the simple rwwlve to leave the camp and her and to IMiow ber papoose eastward, even though ahe must walk to where 'the sun risrs ont of the big walwr." It was long before she could cttapii liar lather, the ehlefof the trito* watched her saapicioualy. and *o ahe saw many times tbe Mar* Me, and the dswn rrrep tn, and the day darkw attain, befinra the moment eame when ahe eouki steal away upon ber desperate Journey. At length hinpened that tbe «oe* of provision* In the .mtrtp ran law, and the braves painted their fcwea, mounted th^r

fsi

TERKK TT ATTTE 8AXITRDAY EVENING MAIL.

leaving behind tbem only tlie ihildrep- with a few au for proteotoi

and cl

to beg the blood they flerc

snatched in warmer weather. All land marks and trails were covered up, and the oldest hunters ^sat around their hearths like women and spun long varns. Whoever left the fort did so at the risk of his life. One man ventured, for a foolish wager, to gt to tho river ai night, a distnnco of perhaps# quarter ot a milo. Tho air was thick with the blinding snow and tho moon was obscured. He lost his way, turned back, wandered about as long as ids strength lasted, then ho lav down to sleep with the certainty that ho should never wak en again. In the early morning ho w«tound by his

comrades ju«t

side the wails, within a stono's throw oi his starting point, more dead than alive —onlv alive because a largo wolf, weakened iy starvation, had fallen on top of him and lain I hero all night, thus pre serving with his shaggy body a feeble spark of life in the man.

Tho agent's house, during this stress of weather was the headquarters of the famishing Indians. They crowded, unkempt and ragged,into tho lnrge wtrni kitchen, and Mrs. Kent gave them whnt over portion of corn bread and bacon sho could spare from her own stores Ono morning when she went into her front room, she was startled to find a swarthy Indian woman squatted on the buffalo robe lefore the blazing wood tire, sound asleep. It was the heavy sleep of exhaustion. The woman's hands were chapped and bleeding her pretty face was unpainted and all wasted by hunger, her long hair, an Indian woman's pride, hanging unplatted and tangled tho gay trappings and adornments of her dress frayed and draggled and torn. An empty cradle, made after the curious Indian pattern, rested against the chimney place, and it was plain by the deep mark of the strap across the woman's brow that sho had carried the heavy burden a long dis tance.

By this muto token Mrs. Kent know that tho poor creature at her foot was childless as well as cold and ill for it is a custom among some of our western tribes that when a baby dies its mother shall carry about with her for a year or more the empty cradle for a badge of mourning. On Journeys or in camp, at work or at rest, sho keeps the cumbrous cradle near her, often lavishing upon this empty shell the caresses and endearments she would give her pa poose if it were alive to crow and smile tn answer.

With great pity in her heart, Mrs. Kent knelt by tho woman, smoothed hack tho straggling hair and called softly to rouse her from her stupor. She stirred at the gentle touch, muttered, stared wildly and then broko out into sobs and exclamations in a curious jumble of language. She pointed to her shrunken empty breasts, to the cradle, but of the window—wrung her hands, clasped Mr*. Kent's waist and cried, "My littlo papoose! I want I no liv». Mv whole heart go if be no oomo back. '"Whv, my poor dear," said Mrs.' Kent, frightened by her wild looks and gestures, "don't tako on so. If the Great Spirit who loves you has taken away your ohlld, you know it never can come again, lr you aro good you will see him up there in tbe sky." "No, nn, no! I wake at night. So cold my broast he dooB not lie there. My papoose gono. cry, I look. My man never come. I walk many miles, many suns. I oomo far. 1 come ft»r to get to touch mv protty boy. You good white squaw—know heap much money. Your man good to poor Indian. Winona do big work tor tbe littlo dear papoose." t!

women

i, with a few aleej^y old men jrs. Thai night, when the

tamp was still, Winona roee, packed Inl* her cradle her buflklo ajdn, witb as much dflwl mott sko oculd nnd—» it wasn't much—took her bow and arrow, crept steaitfalJy out of the wigwam into tbe iri9i«P past the snoring old men on guard, and by daybreak was many miles away upon the trackless prslrie.

She knew that the nearest pale

Dm*

camp was Port Leavenworth, distant from Fort Kearney perhaps tbreo hundred miles, and that every one going east passed through this poet. In her youth,she bad several times walked tniles between sunset and sunset, and she felt sure she could easily travel three hundred miles in nine or ten days, before tho cold weather set in—-tind her child at the post, or learn some tidings of him, and be helped on in her aearch by the kind pale faces. So fhr the first three days sho walked gayly on siuging, I think, tjer heart was so light apd ber courage so high.

But on tho fourth day the sky was overcast, the open plains wer© nwcpfc by the keen northwest wind, and tho snowKtorm began. Tbe short days grew shorter still in the broad shadowB of tbe hills, and the sun or moon rarolv broko through the gray clouds. With the coming of tho wind and frost every sound and sign of lifo went out, and^a dead, unbroken quiet, noiseless as the Tailing snow-, settled down upon the bleak prairie. Tho trail of birds through tbe air, tbe roving herds of buflaloes on tho hills, tho busy beavers and muskrats by tlie stream, all vanished as if by magic, securely hidden in their winter homes. Winoua was as much alone as the man locked Into polar seas, and the awful silence and monotony of this reat white World, in which she was the only houseless wanderer, filled her with terror.

Soon her scanty supply of food gave out there was nothing she might shoot, so she lived upon tbe frost bitten rose uips and black haws which tho bird# had left on leatless boughs by the road *id«, or she dug the dry and sapless roots from the hard ground with her henumbed fingers. Once she was alert enough to trap an unwary beaver who peeped out at her from his mud plastered nouse in the creek. With keen hun ger she ato him raw, and found hi in a most delicious morsel. Then again she cauie ono day upon a deserted camping ground which had been lefl in haste, tor the smouldering flro was still sending up thin blue wreaths of smoke into tho frosty air, and scraps of bono aud buffalo meat wero strewn over the Uround. She rested in this place several days, as long as tho scraps lasted. Ai niiht she sto. ped in tho sheltered val leys where tho willows and cotton woods grew thick on tho banks of the littl streams. Sho scooped out a place down tho earth, piled the snow in ramparts lo windward, spread out her buffalo r.»be, kindled a dickering fire, and lay down to fitful slumber asd dreams ot wnrmth and food and tho aimless touch of baby hands. With tho first streak of dawn sho was up and away again,climbing over hills, crossing streams on floating cakes of ico, always hungry and thirsty, aching from head to foot, leaving a red print on tho snow from her bleeding feet—without guide or trail, aud yet divinely led over those dreary, l'ar-stretching wastes, where even the scent of tho bloodhound would have been st fault#

When threo weeks, as nearly as she oould estimate tho timo, had passed, she climbed a steep bill one morning, saying to herself that when sho reached its top she would lie down and rest. She was so weary of the fight against starvation and cold nothing seemed worth seeking but sleep ordeath, which would cure all pains. From that hilltop she looked down upon tho gray walls of tlie fort she heard voices and barking oi dogs—saw men moving about, and the warm smoke rising from the chimneys. The sight quickened her drowsy sonses. She dragged herself, on hands and knees, along the short distance, staggered past the sentinels, opened tlie first door she rami) to, sank fainting in the heartsome warmth ol the flro, and wo have seen how, on awaking, sho found her child as suddenly as she had lost him.

The major turned away as she looked up at him, ber story eudod. He was thinking of things he never spoke ofhis own dear mother and her tender lovo, his own dearly-loved son. Both mother and son were dead long ago, but they camo back again fresh as yesterday in this mother holding up her thin hands to him, and in hw son pleading yet more strongly by his babyish joy and content. On the other band was "Monsoer Pierre." He bad a right in the affklr. He meant to do a good part by tbe child—a better one than to leave blm in barbarity and ignorance, with no higher am&ition than the scalping-knifo and war dance. Tho m^Jor had never broken a trust. He could not now. ^though all the mothers In tho world {were on their knees before him. He foaid so to his wlfo, and then made a hasty plan by which Winona could bo provided for till she could be sent back to ber tribe with tbe first troops going to a

The women smiled and whispered together while the imtfor was speaking, jbr they knevr if ho did not, that the mighty love which had borno such 'strain and trial for love's sake only was not now to be made of no avail. The resolute major had arrayed two women Against himself. Sampeon bad surrendered to one.

Aided by Mrs. Kent, Winona was the majorl shadow from that time. She •lay in wait fbr him if he mounted hi* horse, she stood at his bridle if he walked alio followed if te came in late, sif he went otit early, Winona was early nnd late too, always ready, always patient, always pleading, till at length the major and his squaw" because byrord In the garrison.

Tlie major himself fWdltd'W amns©»«nt in U: for wherever be turned be tide woman's young, piteons fsoe wing

swlft

,8hc was 'forbidden to enter the house,

!and

so on days when eo bleak and bitter waa tbe weather that not a dog waa driven mil Into it, she stood fbr honrs in tbe anew, kissing the window-pane against which tbe chubby brown face of Baptiste was flattened. !t was after such a day that tbe major Mild, "Wife, I give In. That squaw"* •irk face haunts me» 111 give bmr tise child to-morrow night tell ber so. How to make otit witb Parley-vou* I don't know.*? ...

Mr*. Kent did not

borars

and rode off a three day's bant,

speak

sbe.cmi'd

not It wmm if a promise bed made that her own dead baby, wblte and soft, sbooW agaifi sleep warm la ber bosom. -JIL

The next day waa one of the Wf» a

SAW IVTA

bright days that drop sometimes into tb^midwinter like a special boon. Tbe son shone out In such M«ed bold b«ma

that there was a motion and sttr of tife through the land such as Umlia us in the e*rly dava of sprin*. The snuw birds flew pait In a sudden flurry the long ic :.ie hanging from tbe eav«» grew qu.u. thin and tell splintering on

the ground tbe ks^in the liver,j from theaboree a load the swift currant au^ped over We banks white ont on tbe pourie hiUs the Mack earth came tbrondh tbe melting snow in streaks and patehee. Tho "January thaw" bad began. By evening clouds gathered and broke Into floods of warm rain upon the steaming earth and there were tnunder and lightning like a summer tempest.

At midnight tbe major carried a mystorioos bundle of buckskin and beads and fringe from his bedroom to the kitchen threw up the window opening out upon the little garden below, and called In a cautious whisper, "Winona, are vou there?"

Yes," came back from the darkness —"Winona hears." Tako your boy, Winona—here, from the window. TOll no one. or be will not bo safe with you. I give him up to you."

A pair of arms reached out anon the black night and olutched tho sleeping baby. The major beard a low sweet sob of joy above the pealing thunder and he saw "by tho glare of lightning tbe hungry, angular, coarse fhee transfip by love, shining with a beauty as pu and divine as that whtoh beams flro

angular, coarse fhee transfigured ure in the fair eyes of pictured Madonnas.

The woman disappeared, and her baby witb her, as quietly as she had come. The good Konts never saw ber again, but they knew that she reached her tribe in safety, for she sent back by ev ery opportunity some little token of gatitude—moccasins or a plait of dried buffalo meat, a bag of sweet corn or hazlenut kernels. They hoard, too, of the boy tor whom such a wonderful love bal been displayed that be grew into a strong, hanasome "young bravo," wise in council, skilled in tho chase and famed for deeds of blood and daring.

It was late spring when "Monseer Pierro" came to th6 garrison. He sought the tn^jor hastily, and the good old people saw that he was trembling with eagerness and anxiety. "And the boy, major?" he said after the first greetings.

Tho boy's all right," answered tho major. Don't bring him yet, Mrs. Kent I'll just fetch in my saddle bags. I picked up a few traps that the young rascal may like ho don't know rnucn about mo, you seo."

He presently came back smiling with his arms full of packages, out of which were bursting tin soldiers, trumpets and painted candles. "Children are like their elders—not above a bribe, eh, major?

Pif rre," said the major, and stopped —"Pierre—" "Well, man! what's tlie tnafter? Speak it out! The boy's in bed, I suppose, and you don't want to wake him."

The boy I as gone.' TJone! WhereYou let him go?" "I did." g!

His mother, I suppose "Yes, she camo for him. A mother has the best right to bar baby. Pierre."

Because," added Mrs. Kent, trying to help her husbaud through—"becauso she has the most love."

Ah, madam," said the man in a bro keu voice, "I too*- But what matter? Sacre!" He dashed tho toys to tho floor and ground them under his toot. "You are all the same, you women 1" "Thank God, we arc 1" cried Mrs. Kent with more heat than devotion.

But her resentful words wore not heeded. Their guest struck off tho ma jor'a detaining band, mounted his horso and rode away, to come no more to his old friend's house.

Baptiste and his mother liavo lon: since gone to the happy hunting groun of their fathers. Pierre and tho major aud bis wife bave likewise passed away, for all this is an old story, though now forth* first time told. I found it in a littte yellow book musty with age, the majors diary. Tho lesson is obvious. But Mrs. Kent,with tho feminino pmnenoss to emphasize a moral, had written ot tho end, in a cramped, oldfashioned hand, these words: "It's my opinion and I've seen enough of them to know —it's my opinion that the Indians—tho women anvhow—nre nn' such a bad lot, after all. Everything they touch doesn turn to blowcu They bave feelings pre'ty much like the rest oi God's poople, and if thoy were given as good chance and as fair a start in tho world, and if we only knew how to put our finger on the soft spot in their hearts, they would be 'most as human and reasonableas white people."

HONESTY is the best policy in tnedl cine as well as in other things. AY KB'W N.tBSAI'AKILLA is a genuine preparation of that unequalled spring medicine and blood purifier, decidedly superior to the poor Imitations heretofore In the market. Trial proves It.,

ni "7_ Look at tke Offer. «n To every new yearly subscriber t« Tho Mall, and to each old subscriber who renews, Is gl vea a magnificent chromo, usually told at Si, nnd the paper, costing $2, making f8 worth In all, for only 12. Toll your frtendu about tt! Get the Iwt paper published tn the 84ate tor one year, and an expensive pic turn—all Cor St. 4*

An Kxtra Chromo Frco. \\*e will *cnd a copy of either of our premium fhromoa to every person sending as the names Of three new yearly subscribers with the money, six dollar*, also gtvtag the picture* to each of the three subscriber*. Almost any one san In this way secure this beautiful work of art without it «MfUg them anything.

Gft Both^bromos.^1

Any per*o» wishing to.secure at once both of oor new prwrntom Chrotnot cah de »o by wbttHMnt fbr The Mali two years In advance, paying as then-**, or we wlU •pad the paper ftr one yearaod both tljromo* mounted for the *am_ or we wllJ send The Malt »e year and both picture* handsomely in walnut and gilt for «M».

THE

Traveling Men oi

Kpgaeed in any btwieot OA make tiiwl* traveling sxpensos, by putting in an occa» lonal word for The ttatunlay Evening Mail, where they may stop.

Clergymen

fton earn a few dollars, and fntrodttts* a flntftlni paper, by eanvatalttf We the lit* orday Bventnc Mail. Liberal eocamtwtons given. The paper and Chromo take on sight. Hen for circular of Instractlona.

Ladles at Home

Can e«n ftvm »W to a week, caavawlng fmr the Saturday Evening 2£atf and ita charming Chromo* ftee prospectus in another column, and send fbr circular of fnatraethma. Or better «UI1, mad fwt f^* tar* tor oattft a*d eomtMSoe work iwwwdi* ately -1

Men who Hate Oth#»r BttHinefw Are wanted to add that of canva*sr.g for The Mall. T. !*nl Mnmtssiotts. -wrud for drcnlar -a

J,: .-tru"i

ns.

...At:

Satorday

Evening

*w: m)

MAIL,

FOR THE YEAR

A MODEL WEEKLY PAPER

FOR THE HOME. A

One year, (with chromo) IS 00 Hlx mouths, (without chromo) fl 00 Three months, (without chromo).. cts.

Mail and office Subscriptions will, Invariably, be discontinued at expiration of time paid for.

Encouraged by the extraordinary success which has attended the publication of THE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, the publisher has perfected arrangement* by which It will heneefbrth be one of the most popular papers In the West.

v/ THE CHOICE OF

Two Beautiful Chromos

Presented to each yearly subscriber, from and after this date. These beautiful pictures" Just from the hands of the French ohrom artists, are faithful copies of oil paintings by the artist W. 11. Baker, of Brooklyn. One, entitled

"Cherry Time" -"K.

Re^^fits a bright (kced boy, coming fro HI the orchard, bountifully laden with the redripe fTult. The other, entitled )'$

"Lily of the Field""'

Is a beautiful little girl, with ene of the sweetest of faoes, gathering lilies in tlie field. One Is a wood soaae, the other has an open meadow in the back ground. They are of striking beauty.

For one dollar extra (83.00 In all,) we will send Tbe Mail one year and both chromos mounted ready for framing. These pictures uro catalogued and sold 1m the ait stores at FOUK DOLLARS EACH. '"ViV ^**•1 JWi I"

FRAMES? I**"

We have made arrangements with sn extensive manufactoiy of frames by which we can furnish for One Dollar a frnme usually sold for *1.50 and 11.75. These frame* are of the best polished walnut nnd gilt. Heselsthe

BILL OF PRICES. ini*'*'

Tlie Mall one year and choice of Chro^' mo..... O ue Tho Mall one year and Beth Chromos mounted.. 3 00 The Mall one year and Both Chromos

FRAMED 00

TIIE SATURDAY KVENINU A1L Is an 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 columns that cannot be read aloud In the most refined flreelde circle/"-* T!

CLUBBING WITH OTHER PERIODICALS. We are enabled to offer extraordinary Inducements In the way of dubbing with other periodicals. We will furnish TIIKHATURDAY BVENINO MAIL, PRICE 12.0# PER YEAR, and elthe1 of tho above Chromos with any of the periodicals enumerated below at greatly reduced rates. These periodicals will be sent direct from the offices of publication. Here Is tlie list:

SEMI-WEEKLY. ^ir

frmi- Wrrkly .V«H York Tribune, price plfiO, Tho Mail and Chromo W 6# -to al *i''

WEEKLY PAPERS. '*1

[ndlnnapoUn Journal, price tii.00, The ""1 Mall and Chromo.......... "vKu

jndiarmpoH* Sentinel, price *.'.00, Tho Mall and Ohromo...„ 8 68 y, y. Tribune, price 12.00, The Mall and

Chromo 8 W ToUnin Jilade, prloe CJOO,Tho Mall and Chromo gj K. T. Sun, The Mall and hromo 8 00 Prairie farmer, price 82.00, The Mall and Chromo ri

WeHfm Mural, price 12Jfl.T ho Mall and f^ic^^^dVyirtee', price'iV.OO. fiie Mali juidChromo o® Chicago Interior, price gUO, Tho Mall and Chromo tW Cftieaao Jnttr-Ov«n\, price »1J», Tha

Mall and Chromo......... ,.•. 8 25 AppUton't Journal, price H.00, The Mall and chromo A Rural AYu Yorker, price The Mali ahd Olirmno. Hearth and liome, price IMO, The Mall and (Tliromo IMkodUt, price «Lae, The Mall and

Chromo...... -"•••iii-• Harper'* Weekly, price W.00, The Mall and Chromo.

6 50

Harper'* Batar, price MA The MaU and Chromo ^....^ Frank UtU** JltrutraM JVcwtpajfer, rw!i-.e The Mall and Chromo...... iXtHsn Chimney Onrner, price W OO, 1 he

Mail a««l Chr»rao & Rou»' and (ilrW Weekly, price 82^0, tlie HUH and Chromo 8 75

|la#

i. MONTHLIES. Xrt*«v*r "Home Maguxime, price 82M,

The Mall and (Jhrumo -u.Ma&itttw, prloe 2,00, The Mail andUtromo —. 8 Amrrfmn AjprievUuritl, price SLfiOt The

Mail and 9 00 mmorp*'! JiirntM#, price «^0, 1 y»s»r, The Mall andchiwmo.

4 30

Oo&Y* tsuivn Pnok, price UM, The Mali and Uiromo.„. ..„_....„..~............ Little pttrporal, price 91.50,The Mall and cwt-owo............ vi-v

Aribwr'' Utmlhly, price «j80,The MaU piri* Th'e Mai 1 OMU«»^^W,1pri«^Vj»7Tbe Mail and

Overland Monthly, price UM, The Mali and Chromo

Ilarper't Maffottne, prtee W^O,The Mall and Chromo. .jr--— If—• Omtdrnet*! MfhnOily, priceI2JJ0,

The Mal 1

and Chromo.... -.- Young Folk* Rural, Tbe MaUand ChroTh* A*wwrv prtc«|l^0, The MaU an

Chromo. .-J. -2

8 10

Bt. jfUHota*, prtc« PLM, The Mall and CbnMi»o._.^....^.—~—"

All 1Mpremium* often*! by the above pub

lifliUAns Art! Inrlodcd In this clubbing arrtm*wment.

CXRNNINO WITH COUNTY PAPERS.

We haw made arrangements to famish' THJBM Alljt with Chromo, and any one of the Newspaper* In tlis neighborhood of, Terrs llau|e ail for 8SJ*. .' wi% i* -•"SWfctfliOt*-.-

WJt?8TLOOKATITI

The Mail, prie*. .. VosrCMnty pep**, pritm.———JJJ't6gW—Tli«U(mmo,

XOtaI ft W-

AS I Address P. H. WKHTFAI.L, I'ublUher Haturday Evening Mall,

TERREH AUTE, LN