Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 28, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 January 1878 — Page 2

Page PDF (10.62 MB)

Back to issue view

-sf

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR HIE PEOPLET

TERRE HAUTE, Jan. 5,1878.

[For the Saturday Evening Mall.]

TWO SCENES.

BY A.H. DA VIS. ill

The bell was tolling la yon distant dome. As o'er the lea I slowly plodded home, And as I passed the churchyard lone and drear, I saw a sabled multitude draw near.

The mourners clothed In garments rich and

PacecPslowly to the music of a muffled band, And all about me told that one had gone. That this vain world was proud to look upon.

With silent step I slowly drew me nigh Unto this spot where soon this form must lie, And then they gathered round the open bed That helcl a pillow for the honored dead.

Sad were the looks, yet .few the tear* they gave, As silently they placed him in his grave For it was not for love that thus ihey came. But for the honor that had crowned his name.

Back to their home I saw them wind their way, And leave their honored defcd TO dearth's dark sway, And soon beheld them smiling as of old, As though they had not seen death's sceptre cold. f»

This then, I cried. Is honor rich and rare, And that which mortal man doth love wear Yet see how soon those who so loved light, Forget the one who for it lived to fight.

Another day, as home I slow weat, Thinking with Joy of how the day- was spent. I saw a little crowd draw softly near Around the grave of out te them most dear

They marched not to the music of amuffled band, Nor to the tolling of the bells' sad strand Butsllently they came with streaming eyes, To leave the form of one then in the skies.

I saw a mother bending o'er the one That in his life bad been her only son And saw the tears that silently she shed As in the grave they placed her sacred dead

Then slowly home I saw them wind their way, But oft returning at the break of day. I find this mother kneeling at the grave Of one whose soul has crossed death's sullen wave.

"Two scenes," dear reader, I have tried to give, One is of honor which on earth doth live, But which, when burled from our sight away, Fades like the glimmer of a parting day.

Of love the other rich and grandly fair, Wreathes a bright crown for mortal men to wear, And though 'tis burled from our sight away It shines forever unto perfect day.

CASEY, Dec, 18, 1877.

BAKED BEANS.

'Baked beans be good enough for any one, Mellndy. When your father came courlin' me be set a store by Hannah's famous baked beans, and I allers thought if tbem hadn't been so nice I might never bave been Mrs. Tibbs after all,' and Mrs. Tibbs smiled abroad Bmileather joke, which quite swept from her face the previous look of vexation.

Not so with her daughter Melinda, who was paring apples with a very downcast face,as she answered gloomify: •That was thirty years ago, ma, and times have changed,and Mr. Falrweather isn't coming oourtin'. But I do think its too bad to give him uotbing but baked beans when he comes here, when you know Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Johnson will lay themselves out.'

Airs. Tibbs ont oil a large slice of pork, letting her knife come with decision upon the hard wood table. •If he's going to preach to us,Melindy, I don't waqt a sermon of soups and fanoy crackers., But a good plate of baked beanawlll make the kind o' sermon for me.'

Mr. Fairweather, the young candidate for the Meriton pulpit, was to spend the approaching Sabbath at Beacon Tibbs'. As Mrs. Tibbs and Melinda were discussing his next beakfast, bo was seated in the cars, with h!s Greek Testament in his hand, but evidently not in his thoughts. He was thinking of Meriton, and contrasting it with the home he was just leaving. The question in his mind was, whether he was fitted to take charge of a strong, powerful, but dull church. Evidently the people needed waking up. Could he successfully do it?

Judging by appearances, most decidedly no! For Mr. Fairweather, though quite tall, was slight, with light hair, grayish-blue eyes and a complexion to which any sudden emotion Drought a change of color. As you looked at him more closely,you saw the thin lips closed firmly together, and the eyes regarded you steadily and squarely Dut not forcibly enough for Meriton.would undoubtedly be your decision, as it was mine when I first met him.

Mr. Fairweather bad not gone far in bis thoughts, when the cars drew up at the station. Ho was met, shaken most heartily by the hand, helped into a carriage, and, before fairly aroused from •JUis reverie, was drawn easily along over a jolting road liy a strong, young bay horse,who carried himself with a sturdy gait, whloh suggested any amount of unusual power, and, though apparently slow enough, passed over a mile in a very short time. The horse was the first ttaiog that really attracted the minister's attention. It seemed to him very much like the people of Meriton,for both horse and people had considerable iu them,but both needed further bringing out. So he broke in upon the ordinary commonplaces, which were being exchanged, by saying: 'That is a very powerful horse of yours, Deacon Tibbs/ •Yee, sir,'said the deacon, well pleased. 'He Is, I might sav, pretty powerful for one of his breed. He's young yet, only four years, but a pretty average colt he is.' 'I am wanting a good horse,' added Mr. Fairweather, 'but this one, I sup pose, is not for sale.' 'Well, sir, he ian*t: but to be frank with you, sir, I wouldn't sell him to you anyway. You haven't the strength to have him at the other end of the lines for all he seems to go along easy-like.' •I can see his easiness comes from his strength,' answered Mr. Fairweather. 'and I bave seen so many horses and people, too, who seem not to be going to the limit of their ability, that the sight is refreshing to me.' *1 am glad you like the colt,' responded the deacon doubtfully. 'But don't It show a trifle of familiarity with things of which a minister don't study much?'

Mr Fnirweather glanced up quickly. 'It seeuts me. I)*»amn Tiblw, that a minister ha* a ?liil» wrll as others to enjoy ail the beautiful creatures with which his good master has filled the world.' 'Yes, certainly/ replied Deacon Tibbs

'Ionly spoke of it because our last minister used to ride considerable, rather more than was befitting a minister, our Meriton folks thought.'

Mr. Fairweather Bad no answer toady* to bis remark, whleti had brought him back to his first question, Was be fitted to be a spiritual adviser to the Moriton people? On the very first subject mentioned, he had differed from one of the deacons—and that to him an important subject, for he owed his health in no small measure to-Jiis saddle exercise.

The steady, twinging trot quickened perceptibly, as a large white house ap pearou in sight, until the colt came to stand still in front of the wistaria-cover-ed door. Deacon Tibbs sprang out offered his band to Mr. Fairweather, and then, catching sight of alight blue dress, he called out: •Here, Melindy, come here and take care of the parson, while I unhitch Paul. My dartar, Mr. Fairweather.''

At the same time that Mr. Fairweather is shaking the small red hand in bis thin white one, I will introduce Miss Melinda Tibbs to my readers.

She is a fair specimen of a smart New England girl. She has not naturally a large frame, but as she has never been pinched or stunted, she has grown to a full size. Her face is plump without being fat, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes bright and full of mischief. She seems a personification of good nature, as the young minister thought her, though had he peeped into the kitchen window that morning, as she sat by the little cherry table paring apples, he would have known that even her brightness was eclipsed by clouds. There seemed to be just one quality lacking in her, and that not unimportant, depth. Her rosy lips were lightly pressed together her Drown eyes roved carelessly from thing to thing she roamed from one subject to another,

never

stopping to think on any

one of them. Evidently,if Miss Melinda had any strength of mind or character, she, as well as others, had yet to find it out.

It was a very quiet evening the young minister spent, and feeling tired and embarassed be wenteaily to bed,to gain what rest be could for the next day's duties. After he had closed his door he was made a confident in what seemed then to be Melinda's greatest trial. 'It's too bad, pa, but ma wouldn't get anything but baked beans and johnnycake for breakfast, and I don't suppose Mr. Fairweather ever heard of baked beans before.'

Mrs. Tibb's voice chimed in, 'It's time be did then, Melinda but I agree with you, I don't believe he ever did hear of 'em before most likely he's been brought up on cake aud custard.' •Well, I don't know, Jenny,' said Deacon Tibbs, 'about the calces and custard, but it's nothing agen him if he is not o'er strong.'

He isn't strong,' broke in Melinda 'I could beat him easy iu a good race, and that's juss

the

reason why I say he

shouldn't be made to cat baked beans,'

'Just

the reason why he should, Me

linda,' rejoined Mrs. Tibbs. Well, that's kind,' soliloquized Mr. Fairweather. 'I'm glad to know what I'm going to have for breakfast, and as I bave heard of baked beans, I'll do my best to prepare for them.'

But that proved hard work, for if there was one article of diet he detested more than another, it was baked beans. And the amount be ate of this New England dish was evidently to be the standard by which his abilities as a man and as a preacher were to be judged.

Mr. Fairweather awoke in the morning with a weight of scarcely defined troub.e upon him, which for a moment he could not assign to any event past or to come, But when his breakfast, consisting entirely of baked beans, flashed into his head—metaphorically speaking —he laughed and said to bimsell:

The johnny cake will be a comfort— that's one good thing.' As he entered the dining room, he lanced toward the large black pot in rout of Deacon Tibbs, but could not see beyond a generous slice of pork nicely browned. The beans were evidently baked by a good cook a little moist to suit my taste, I should judge from Mr. Fairweather's description, Dut not beyond the point to which many good Housekeepers aim to bring them.

The young minister did his best, but he found his second piece of johnny cake—for betook a mouthful of this with overy mouthful of ^beans—rapidly disappearing, while the generous supply of beans on his plate was not perceptibly diminished. The worst of it was that Mrs. Tibbs' eyes were from time to time oast scrutinizingly ou his plate. Twice be helped himself again to vinegar and pepper, but after all he felt that, in the eyes of the deacon's worthy wile, he had made a bad failure. For when he rose from the table there were some beans left on bis plate.

It was more than be could ask that a good sermon should atone for his two misfortunes of course the Tibbs family would decide that a minister who could not eat baked beans and knew a good horse when he saw him, must be a dandyfied jockey, and notatall the minister for Meriton.

How he got through the rest of the day he eould not tell. He tried to preach his best, but at night he lay down with the feeling that some way or other the whole day had been a failure.

It was a surprise to him when he re

ceived

a unanimous call to the Central

church at Meriton. But after he had thoroughly looked at all sides of the question, he decided that he might be better fitted for that place than any other. He accepted the call, was installed, and, firstly, having no wife to help occupy the parsonage, he came to board at my nouse.

After having been iuour family for a short time, as we ate on the piazza one evening, he said to me, rather abruptly: 'Johnson, I wish, if it wouldn't trouble your wife too uaueh, you would once in awhile give me baked beans.' 'Notrouble,'I answered.'for we always havo tbem every week. Are you fond of them?' 'No,' said he, mournfully, 'I can't eat them, Johnson, bet I mean to learn how to.'

And then the whole story of his breakfast at Deacon Tibbs came out. 'Please don't think me so foolish,' said our minister, 'as to imagine that I must eat just what my people dictate, and like all their favorite dishes. I don't feel that way at all but taese baked beans seem an indispensable dish in Meriton households, and Mrs. Tibbs is not the only one who would attribute to daintiness what is really due to taste.' 'And bow about the race with Miss Melinda?' I asked, laughing.

Mr. Fairweather shook his head. 'I'll learn to eat the beans first, Johnson,and then who knows what I may be able to

Even to driving the colt?' Don't speak of the oolt, Johnson. It makes me feel insulted someway to see that beautiful animal a common farm drudge. And yet,' he added, thoughtfullv, 'I don't know but good, honest work is more honorable than the kind of employment I put my horse to.' 'Good, honest work might do, but Deacon Tibbs doesn't know how to treat a horse like that.' 'That's oat the mystery of it, Johnson.

TERRK AUTE SAX RD AY JS EN IN JM AIL

However a hoie*blch bud been trained by him has come out at good In disposition as that.' "That is easily accounted for, the Deacon has had but llttwio do wiUt his early education. But he is rapidly spoiling him. Some morning he will wake up to lock the atable door after hia steed is stolen.'

Our new minister, I soon discovered by the way he bandied his own fleet little saddle-horse, was by no means unskillful in horsemanship.

The more intimately I became ao-

Sisoovered

ualnfced with him, the more qualities I in him which others did not seem to dream of. ,,

At the end of the first year of Mr. Fairweather's pastorate, his people lad very gradually undergone a great change. There was a little of their unused strength put into use many socle'* ties were started which were destined to prove of great good, and yet to quietly had all the work been done, that each particular enterprise was attributed to some particular person, and the minister obtained very little credit for it.

To Mr. Fairweather's satisfaction, he bad learned to partake of Meriton'favorite dish,so that every Sundayjnoi ing he ate his plateful of bean®

To celebrate the annivers uj bf hia coming to Meriton, Deacon Tibbs called over in the afternoon,with Paul harnessed in the carryall. Mrs. Tibbs and Melinda were on the back seat, the deacon held the reins, with a broad smile on his genial face, and pointed to the seat beside him with a wartr invitation to the minister to occupy it during a ride into the country.

It was the first time he had ridden after Paul since he came up that Saturday night from the station. Deacon Tibbs usually drove the old horse Pansy, and always seemed a little reluctant to have the minister see too many of the colt's fine qualities. They had not driven far before Fairweather saw there bad been a great change in Paul there was the same easiness of gait, but mingled with it. a slight reluctance, and occasional quick start and toss of the head, which seemed to come from nervousness. He felt that in some way his spirit had been stamped down,though by no means unsubdued, and he had been fretted and his will Be constantly crossed, so teased, that his amiable disposition seemed entirely gone. 'I can't imagine,' said the deacon, 'what on airth's the matter with Paul he has hardly paid the time I've spent on him, for he's getting kind o* cross and restive, and's as set as set can be.'

He had scarcely finished the words before Paul reared and came to a dead stop. The deacon chirruped. The horse laid back bis ears close to his head, and planted his head firmly, and seemed to stiffen into stone.

Deacon Tiubs seized the whip and laid it squarely and fairly on his back. For a second he trembled, and then gave one dash forward and broke into a fearful run.

For the first time the deacon realized

Paul'swonderfulstrength.

The power

which had so long lain untired came into full play. The ground was passed over with a rapidity incredible, even for a runaway.

Deacon Tibbs' face grew white, the pulling and jerking into which he put his whole strength had not the slightest effect upon the horse. His mouth seemed of the same material as the bit.

There was one hope—a high hill was just before them, and surely the horse would draw up and become manageable then!

But with a lightness and ease scarcely credible, he carried them up the bill. It seemed certain death there. For at the foot of the hill the bridge was up for repairs, and the not over stout rope stretched across the road, would surely break like thread before his fury.

Mr, Fairweather, as they neared the top of the hill, took the reins from the deacon's fingers, and spoke as quietly as possible to the excited horse.

Bat his voice and his quiet, steady

E[e

ull seemed to have no effect on Paul, dashed down the hill at a rapid rate. No, not quite! He was certainly slackening a little. Again, Mr. Fairweather spoke, in tones ot authority, but calmly he pulled harder on the reins.

Paul drew up, and before ho quite reached the rope he came to a dead stop. Fairweather sprang from the carriage and went to bis head. He was almost startled at the calmness be met in tbe horse's eye but there was a look of deliberate anger which gradually wore awav as he caressed him.

The carriage did not prove to be broken at all, but Deacon .Tibbs, as well as his wife and daughter, decidedly iefused to ride home, and as walking seemed out of the question forM rs. Tibbs—who knows what Melinda might have done? It was deemed best that Fairweather should rido back on Paul, and drive my horse and carriage out for the three.

He knotted the harness into stirrups, sprang on his back and turned toward tbe towm Paul bad by no means lost his nervous defiance, but this gradually wore away, Fairweather's firm tones seemed much more, or rather pleasantly less effective than tbe deacon's whip. And while I was helping him hitch up Bess, be indulged in no stinted praise of the animal he had always so highly admired.

The accident ended agreeably after all. Mrs. Tibbs refused to take aback seat on the homeward route, for she wanted to be, so she Baid, where she could jump 'in case the critter should run.' Aud so the minister and Melinda were seatmates on tbe homeward journey. She had but little to say, but her sweet young face gazed from tbe carriage window with a really thoughtful look.

Mr. Fairweather watched her with curiosity. 'I do believe tbe girl's thinking,' be said to himself. 'There's something to ber after all.'

Although ray acquaintance with our new minister dated only a 'year back, we bad been thrown so intimately together that I had already found in him my most valued friend. It was long after this rido that I began to see that the interest awakened some time before in Meiinda Tibbs was gradually deepening. Oud night I jokingly said to him •Oh, by the way, Fairweather, it seems to me it Is about time for you to settle down in a home of yonrown.' 'It will be a long time before then, Johnson.' 'Need it be?' I answered. 'Couldn't yon persuade Miss Melinda—'

Fairweather's face flushed. 'I don't know what you are thinking about, Johnson. I do feel that Melinda—I can't express it to yon, and I cee you know bew It is. Tbe first time I saw her I wished she could be placed in circumstances to bring out what there wiw in ber—' 'Like Paul,' I suggested. 'If, indeed, she really had any depth of character. Since then she has occasionally given me some glimpses which encouraged me to think that a wider sphere and larger knowledge—In short development in every direction—would make ner as noble a woman as ever lived.'

Fairweather rose abruptly and walked to the, window, mechanically crossed back and forth from one end of the room to tbe other for $»me time, and then

threw himself Jn %«hair by my ilde. 'What can I do about j& Johnson? •I don't know, Reuben,' I answered, 'unless you teke ber in hand as you a a

For after ,|ne runaway be bad hired Paul for a year, sent his saddle-horse back to his •MmfynnA henceforth dovoted an hour, Sometimes more, every day to his new favorite's education. It was along time before Paul showed any slgps of abandoning hia ausplcious ways and spunkiness* Bur gradually he found be could trust bis new master day by day he became more willing to do what was asked of him, till there sprung up a perfect confidence between horse and rider. After this Paul never failed him no matter how hard the task Fairweather required of him, there was nev6r the least reluctance. But still it was all in vain he offered the Deacon a high price for bis horse. He would not sell him.

I gave my advice most honestly, for I believed that he could mould a character like Melinda's into something Lrue and noble. But be was wiaer than I, and I DID not sure but Deacon Tibbs and his wife were wiser than either of us, for Mrs. Johnson came home from tbe next Ladies' Sewing Circle with a piece of news. Melinda Tibbs was going to spend a year with a cousin ot her father in New York city.

As I have no means of followiug Melinda iu ber city life, there is but little to write. In Meriton, things were all

Eave

rosperous—a new element seemed to entered into tbe people, and anew strength put forth. The question was certainly decided, for all agreed that no fitter minister for the Meriton church than Reuben Fairweather could have been found.

I could see he awaited Melinda's homecoming with no little interest and no little fear.

And when she came she came very much changed from the girl she left Meriton. In the first place, my wife said she had gained in style—that was very good, but by no means everything. I could see in many ways that she was toned down, quieted and rendered more

Ead

leasing in society. And, secondly, she gained a more important thing, intellectual culture her head was full of ideas and thoughts, and on any subject she could converse with ease. And, thirdly, she came home accomplished— her natural taste for musio had been encouraged, till she became a musician capable of giving much pleasure to otuers, while her water-color sketches were by HO means devoid of merit.

And yet Fairweather was disappointed. There was still wanting that depth of character, ot which all her sweetness and accomplishments could not supplv their place wanting, did I write It were better to say, this were still unrevealed for a character as beautiful as rare was hidden under this vivacity, which as still to be brought into strong light.

Three years from the time my story opened, the church bells of Meriton rang opt merrily one Thursday morning. There was to be a wedding iu the church. In the oroom you will easily recognize Fairweather, lor he has changed but little but you would have to look many times before you became quite sure that the bride is really Miss Melinda Tibbs. You surely bave not forgotten ber smile, and if tbe brown eyes have grown full of meaning, and the round lips beautiful by a more thoughtful expression, she is still—but not long to be—Melinda Tibbs.

As Mr. and Mrs. Fairweather leave tbe church, they drive up in an old carry-all to Deacon Tibbs', where the wedding dinner is awaiting. In the most conspicuous place on the table is a l&rge pot of baked beans, of which both groom and bride partake with evident enjoyment.

And Mr. Fairweather, amid considerable laughter, tells the story of how he learned to eat baked beans, while Mrs. Tibbs adds most heartily: 'If you bev changed, Reubeo, and I believe you bev since then, you may be sure 'tis all owing to tbe baked beans you've ate every week. For I allers will stick to it that a man who don'« eat baked beans isn't just the man for rale hard work.' 'Then I am ready for anything now,' answered Reubeu, pleasantly, 'judging by the quantity I havo eaten of your beans'

After dinner was over and all the good byes said, as the minister and his wife stepped into the

carriage,

,v?~

**•*"*.

Deacon Tibbs

put a note into his hand. It read: DEAR SON REUBEN I found out some time sence that you had consid'rable grit in you, or I shouldn't have trusted Melindy to you. You like that colt, Paul, and if you'd like, you may have him. I never could do anything with him, and that you may live long and enjoy him, and be blessed abundantly-^-both you and your wife—is tbe most sincere und earnest wish of yourob't servant,

THE extravagance and folly of costly funerals for poor people have been rebuked by one of the 'Paulist Fathers' in New York. Tbe preacher contrasts the pomp observed in the last rites in honor of an obscure person with tbe burial of Christ himself, and denounces the practice of arraying a corpse 'ic garments which vie in extravagance and fashion with those of tbe theater and ball room.' And he justly says that 'to make a dead body an object about which to display earthly vanity and pride is to defile that which is holy ana outrage that which is decent.' Tbe Panlist'sidea is that tbe money expended in this way would far better be laid out in the purchase of 'masses for the repose of the soul of the deceased.' How would it do to expend it in btead or comforts for the living family?

THR eauae of a ielon la usually a bruise of tbe flnser heavy enough to reach down to the bone and inflame it.

I & js

•4 MAUIilAQE AT MIDNIGHT.

A bridal opuple at Wheeling, Va., came, like Nicodemus, at dead of night, to the house of a venerable minister and rang the door bell with tremendous violence. His wife went down stairs in a costume consisting principally of shawl, and found a stripling of 20 and a gaunt creature of 40 and on learning what was their errand brought her husband down stairs. 'Well,' he exclaimed, rather drowsily. The bridegroom could not speak, but motioned to his bride. 'Mr. Preacher,' she said, nothing loth, 'as I'm the oldest, I expect I'd better do the talking. You see Charley, here, has a stepmother, and she don't use him right at all. Now, I'm a widow, and I want to take care of him. Not that I want a husband, because, if I did, I'd get some one nearer my age but I just thought I woult) try and take care of Charley. So we'd like to be married right away.' There was a hitch about the license, but in tbe end she promised to be more than a stepmother to Charley, and carried him home in triumph.—N. Y. Tribune.

MILDNESS conquers—and hence it is that the gentle yet positive influence of Dr. Bull's Baby Syiup overcomes so

?'rice

uickly the disorders of Babyhood 25 cents.

—RbStomatism, Neuralgia, Lumbago, Sciatica, Rheumatic Gout, Nervous and Kidney Diseases positively cured by Dr Fitler's Rheumatic Remedy—a Physioians specialty 42years, never fails when taken as directed. P. M. Donnelly, agent. mar7-ly

GOOD TIMES! BETT£R TIMES

The Best Times!

THE CIYCIITOATI

WEEKLY TIMES!

Free for One Year.

iw'

The Times is in the thirty-fourth year of Its existence, with a national character aud iutluencj second to no other raper. Its nations are of all parties in politics, all sects 111 religion, all classes in society, and of every State and Territory oa the A.merlcan Contineut. Its contents are adapted to the wants and tastes of all.

Its editorials on all questions that affect the welfare of the people or the nation, are candid and liberal in tone, brief and racy in style, and not intentionally offensive to any class of readers.

Its letters from the people, describing the the merits of their several localities as places of residence, especially in the south and far west, are invaluable to persons looking out for new homes,

An original story, and a variety of sketches and essays from popular writers, are given in every number.

Its market reports, including live stock and grain quotations from the principal shipping and receiving points, are always reliable.

Its agricultural department is conducted by a gentleman of experience in that vocation, and with an earnest desire to benefit the farmer.

The youth's department is so popular with the children that they not only cry for it, but write for it every week,

EVKKY PATrtON of the Weekly Times is presented, free of charge, with a copy of the

Times IL'Uttrated Year-Book,

An elegantly printed volume of sclev.tlllc and miscellineouH articles, illustrated with the finest engravings. It also contains a L)I A RY FORk HEY 0 AR 1878, In value and attractiveness it is superior to any present ever before offered by newspaper publianers.

TERMS:

Single Subscribers, per year .(2 00 CI lib of Five Subscribers, per year each, 1 60 Club of Ten and up war t, per year each, I 50

The Dictionary of the Bible,

Comprising i'« Antiquities, Biography. Geography and National History.edited by Wm. Smith, LL. D., of the University of London. Containing 8D0 double-columned ages, '24 full -page steel and wood eugravng, and 12i minor engravings, of scenes, clues, and memorial places of the holy land. Price, iu extra English cloth, S3 5!).

Any person sendirg the publishers of the Weekly Time* the price of lliis book, will receive a coppof the same postpaid, and also the Wfuklv 'limes (with the YearBook) FREE FOR ONE YEAR. Qr the Dictionary will be sent as a premium to anv agent for a club of Eight Subscribers, at 91.50.

A bpecial Agent for each county in all the States, is wanted, to whom extraordinary Inducements will be offered.

HSTFor St eclmen Copies the Times, and circulars, etc., Ardress TIMES CO., Cincinnati, O.

to dOA Per day

T® b/SU

SAMUEL TUBBS'.

SINGULAR ATTACHMENT.M

There is a curious case at Rockport of tbe singular attachment sometimes instituted between man and the lower animals. A Mr. Hale has been for a long time accustomed to throw some bites of food for some eels in a little brook that runs along back of his lot. Latterly he observed that they seemed to be waiting for his visit, and, with a little training, they were induced to eat food directly from his hand. Then tlrey learned to play aud fondle about bis fingers,held in tbe water, and enjoyed his caresses. More recently the largest one of tbe four, a huge fellow over two feet long ana very large around, allows Mr. H. to take him entirely out of tbe water, slide him about freely from band to band, apparently enjoying the novel gymnastics. When Mr. H. goes to tbe brook he calls tbem with a peculiar whistle, and they soon come rushing dowu the stream. Not long ago he brought them his usual lunch of fish and mackerel, when only the large one came. The eel waited a few moments, then turned down tbe stream and soon camo back, bringing bis tardy family to supper. This shows that there is no touch of the human in them, for an ordinary biped boarder would have pitched in without waiticg and cleared tbe table.—Boston Globe.

iff-ii&f,

CreiT1i2y8r»m«ner«li»I

SsSSi

tar

[hamlet.

Frttf of Coit,

I)R. KING'S NIW DISCOVERY for Consumption, Coughs and Colds, Asthma, Bronchitis, etc., is given away in trial bottles

free of cott

home. Sampl

worth. 85 free. BTINSON

CO., Portland, Maine.

The Cincinnati Dollar Weekly Commercial

fValnrre eiirht wwre, forty-eight column newspaper, prepared with great care_ for the

^Ul ^e ra^ui^ of the H»lljr

Is a

CA8H CO]OIISSIONS.^^ilc'^»«rf^.K^^^

up'of'namei

wlH

Jbe*easier"o"g^tw^w^ilptTons

to the afflicted. If

you bave a severe coogli, cold, difficulty of breathing, hoarseness or affection of the throat or lungs, by all means give this wonderful remedy a trial. As you value your existence you can not afford to let this opportunity pass. We could not afford and would not give this remedy away unless we knew it would accomplish what we claim tor it. Thousands of hopeless cases bave already been completely cured by it. There is no medicine in tbe world that will cure one half the cases that DR. KING'S NEW DISCOVERY will cure. For sale by Guucfc

BERRY. Terre Haute, Ind.

'If'.

BROWNS

EX PECTORANT,

The old

j. 1

rellalilTiei?eiyJfdr

allTliroat and

Lung Diseases, is scientific preparation, compounded from tbe formula of one of tie most successful practlcioners in the western country, it has stood the test for last twenty yeats, juid will oflfcet a cure after all other Cough remedies have failed

4 TIE-

Brown's Expectorant

Never fails to cure Consumption in the ear1} stages by subduing the irritation and Inflamation in the Bronchial tubes, and even in the last stages it relieves the cough, promotes easy expectoration, subdues pain and induces refreshing sleep. /. fi'! i, rf.

Brown's Expectorant

Is unrivalled In cases of whooping cough. If used early, and continued as the cote may require, It robs the disease of its distressing character, averts Its common evil consequences, and shortens its course by weeks

Brown's Expectorant

Instantly and permanently cure* lie most, violent coulili, and the first done, if taken just before going to beil, jvill insure a good

2 3 •••VM

Brown's Expectorant

Is warranted"to do all that is cliilrifefl far it." Hundreds of the most prominent citizens our city have usei it for years, p^d give it V^mghestprai^.^

.• t' "fil i"-f

€i«mrrrial.

journal in the MUwlsslppl Valley, are employed, and the Dollar Weekly contains the

IXAlar

weekly tommerniMf cash commission of t«n per cent,

1—

a *iob

highCT priced papefKEK TO AMY ADDRESS and ^in liberal Unsnii'i* s.wilh poster/", to p«rgoi*desiring to* llcll subscriptions.

Agents and Clnb Orgintxersj^^ IIALSTEAD

wanted in every town, village and proprietors Cincinnati Commercial, 1 f'

Brown's Expectorant

FOR SALE BY ALL. P^y.y^I^T8%,

KIEFERrProp'r

INDIANAPOLIS.

1 I-. .. Sold at wholesale in Terre Haute, by' -s

4 ... E. tl. BINDLEY, COOK & BELL.

WW*

it.

u:.

GULICK & BERRY,

qvt 1.

"WV!

'XV

*?&'/

XM I '-i*

7hd.

«he most complete

paper, not only In name, but In 'l^trine

Itlv ndvooates tv«- wnonrtlzntion of silver—that the old Am^ican silver Dollar thalTbe'ow til *m,ney In I sor all purposes. Our terms to inHcrlbtn are

O A A E A

Pettage I'repaM by the Pnbltaheri.

to'

Organizer securing and fonvard _ne, as may be convenient, and duos

Order*

ranlec?toM^rem' tUnoe of the amount, the commission being retained ^^ofsuocess in procuring subscription* lies in Personal Application to tne ^.JrTo«terir8ub«criDtlon A cents and Club Orgs

must in all ca^ be accom-

for°the COMMEBCIAL, than one for any of th«^

CO.,

V4 Cincinnati, Ohio",

--m