Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 43, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 February 1878 — Page 6

TH EMAIL'

A PAPER FOR HIE PEOPLE.

?'1*W H.

E ARfc

"Tell me, gray-hended sexton." I said, "Where In this Held are the wicked folks laid? Ihave wandered the quiet old churchyard An&studted the epitaphs, old and new Baton monument, obe.sk, pillar or# one Iread of ne evil that men bar* done." Vw old sexton stood by a grave newly made, Wftn his chin on his hand his hand on his spade

I knew by tbe gleam of his eloquent eye T»»i his heart whs instructing bis lips to flreply I 4J

A .i

"Who Is to hidg* When the sool tale* its flight? Who Is to judge twist the wrohg and the right? Which of ns mortals »ba!l dare tosav That our neighbor was wic ied who died today? "In our Journey through life, the farther we kpeed The tter we learn that humanity's need Is charity's spirit that prompts us to find Kather virtue thau vice la the lives of onr

T-kindt Y'

"Tli: rcfore, gooc deeds wo record on these btoues The evl' men do, let it lie with tlitir bones. I haw labored ad sexton this many a year, Bui I ndftWhave burled a bar! mm here."

IN THE ICE.

Ori—?» MU

BY J.

TR0WBR1DGR.

"'iSii/r'2

r40 W

PHIL. ASSERTS HIS INDEPENDENCE.

Mr. Phil Kermdr boarded at the very worst place in the world for a man of bis tastes and temperament—namely, at tbe Tillage hotel. When be returned home that evening, be was hot in a mood to go quietly to bed and think of Us rival, which would have been by fur the most wholesome thing for him to do. On tbe contrary, be took the very course wbioh led him still farther from the hap gdness which be (like so many of as) wished to clatch and make bis own, without first earning it by honest endeavor.

He felt blue, in short, and thought he would assert his independence and warm bis heart a little by taking a draim. Finding half a dozen good fellows in'the bar room, be invited them to drink with him. Then, as yoar good fMUows can never bear to be outdone in generosity, each felt under obligations to treat in return. So it happened that Phil asserted bis independence a good saany times, for it is good fellows'etiquette to drink again with tbe man who has drank with you. Considerable confasloa seemed to arise at lafet With regard1 to- whose turn it was to treat, as well'as with regard to things in general and Phil somehow found himself doing tbe honorable thing a#ain and still •gain. The result wM that be, for the Mrst time, went to bed that night decidedly and unmistakably druu-—I mean independent.

Quint, in tbe meanwhile, went home sober enough—a little more so, In fact, than be haa expected to be on that occasion. What be had said to Emma, and) what she bad said to him, I could never ltosrn but this 1 know, that lovers kctve returned from their wooing with lighter hearts under thvlr Ja-ketstban Clint carried that night into the gloomy old house, and up stairs to

bis Bad bed.

He lay awake a long time, thinking what a fool ho had been,

and

wishing

himself where neither grandparents, nor Emma, nor Phil, might ever bear from him again, until they should Home day learn, with bitter remorae

and

envy,

what a noble, great, renowned, rich nan be bad got to be. Waking early, and looking out on the stHly white morning, (tbe storm was •ver, but the earth was covered, and the laden trees drooped

with their

beautiful

butdenof snow), and remembering that be was'in tbe ice'he jumped up, and felt his Interest in life revive as soon as lie thought of tbe exciting day's work More him. •Never mind,' thought he 'Phil's a good fellow. I don't blame him. I won't be In bis way another time. I'm his vight hand man this year, and that's enough for me.'

So be forgave Phil, who was recessary to him but was quite far from forgiviug his grandparents, of whose happiness be was himself *o necessary a part.

He ale hkc* pie secretly in the pautry» and wvnt out into the snow—the first to make tracks through its oalm and unsullied purity, that memorable morning. Arrived at the tavern, he found Phil in bed, sick. •A old—an awf-il headache—that's alland hazard foreman fixed his eyes a* *w»«4!ty as he cowM on his right band man^/llo* it stopped suowlng yetf' r* 'Ye*. «he*kv I*clear as a bell.'

Tbats deuc»Ki unlucky, with tbli headache «ui m«! How much snow fell?' •About five Inches.' *Tbo wtv*i wrnpers will do. Take Che kewC iut—H'« hanging on that nail there ijo ami open tbe tool house, and •tart the oiMtt whou l*v*y come.

there

SOIHI

trampediheiii.

•All right,* said Clint, and hurried away, proud of the Importance of hiadu-j ttos.

The ra«n had bad warning that, if it anowed, they must be on hand with their teams as soon as the storm was oven sod when the suu rose on the das*ling scene, not fewer than a hundred laborers and sixty homes were already on the pond. dint went aroond among them, pompr»a«ly giving orders, only to get laughed at. When they learned that Phil was aick, they went to work In their own way, choosing the way they thought would most annoy Clint, in preference to any other. •I cut ice 'fore ever you was out o' your baby clo'er, an' think I'm goto' to be geehawed about by you?' old former Corbett, whose contempt for Phill) 'right band man' seemed to be •bared by the rest,

Clint was enraged at their conduct, as wall aa alarmed. Phil had told him tbe day before that, as the ico was, would not do to pot many teams on it together, bat that they must be scattered over the

^Tbe mon. however, would not believe but what the ioe waa twice aa thick as it was and, for want of stifle orders from Kermer, they all went aeranitM on one side. Iii ValQ Cti ut shrieked hS eommands to them to scatter. To and fro and athwart the ley field went the and horses and scrapers, somealmost huddling togetnw,Jttst the wme as they would if he bad not inter-

'Stop yoar clack, and go aod git some more hammers, or mallett,or suthin', to knock off the oalla with' (for tbe snow was damp, and the horses' feet 'balled' badly,) 'If you want to do anything,' •aid tbe old farmer and went ofT with hh loaded scraper to the bank.

Tbe hammers were needed, and Clint,

hotiii te getlheui. wr there found Phil, who had just arrived in a

'^i

1, you ought to be ont there!' said Clint. Kermer, who was feeling dreadfully shaky ana remorseful and cross, took oflfonce at what seemed to htm impertinant dlfftiM1^" For tbe very reason that be was conscious of a guilty neglect of doty, be was the more sensitive to being told so by a boy. 'I know my own business,' he answered sharply. •Yes, Dot,' persisted Ciint, 'if you, can't be out there yourself, do just come and enforce my authority. They wont mind a word I say. Tbe men and boraes all get idtO a heap and they'll be through the tee, snre as yon live. Old Corbett says I don't know snytbing.' 'Arid

yon don't!' broke forth Phil,

furiously, perbsps, remembering^ last nigbt, and thinking that, bnt for Clint, wbo was therein ms way, be should not have made a besst of himself, be bad done, and loft bis self sespect, and all hope of Eofma, whope Scruples regard ing bis one ted habit be had so quick1* and so shamefully justified. *Yo?r a thority?' he «ient en, \*ith q^iite ^ava contempt. 'Dunce. 3 on have no antbr ity! If old Corbett is tbei^ it's all irig What do you want?' /.

Clint, quite stunned by this violence, stammered out something about bfmmera. Phil gave him fogr, te'ling |im to be gone.

The younj man, white-wltb auppressed anger, thrust two or three of them— one a small sledge, or stone hammer, weighing several pounds—into bis over noat pockets, and went out of tbe building very much as bo was accustomed, in his bad moods, to walk out of tb9 house at home. This was the last tbe foreman remembered of that unfortunate transaction.

He felt at oncd that be bad done wrong, and that he ougbt to. call the boy bsck and speak kindly to him. .'I'm a brute!' he muttered, clasping one hand convulsively to his forehead, »nd steadying himself with the other, as he staggered heavily back against a work

b6Dcb.

There, half sitting, half leaning, with his bead bowed and bis face covered,'he remained, feeling himself still too wei|k and shaky to appear among tbe meb, and thinking no very happy thoughts, be sure, when he was roused from his stupor by a wild c- y, or rather a tumult of cries. It came from the pond. He was on his feet In

instant be knew

that something terrible was bappeuing. He rushed out of the tool house just in time to see a thronged field of the frozen surface undulate and break lip, snd a reeling and plunging mass of utterly helpless men and horses go down in tbe

ioe*

THE POND-RAKES COME IN PLAY.

Old man Dracutt was sweeping snow from the dooryard path when Uncle Jim stopped at the gate. 'Good niorniir, Jonathan.' 'Good mornin', good mornln Jauios!' said Jonathan, resting «n is broom. 'What's tbe good word this mornin',

BTOGfeT' 'No good word, Jonathan,' said Uncle Jim in a rather constrained, awkward manner, pulling the gate open and coming in. 'Hey! what's the matter?—folks sick?' •My folks are all well children are chipper, thank heaven!' Uncle Jim cleared his throat.

4All

well here?'

•Toler'ble, all that's to home. Clinton's off to-day.' •Ah! Where's Clint?' 'To work on the ice, I s'pose.' 'Sorry to hear that!' said Uncle Jim. 'There's been an accident, did you know it?' •On tbe ico?' cri9d old man Dracutt, with an anxiou- start. •So 1 hear. A good many men got in and it'* feared they hain't all got ont again.' And Uncle Jim fixed bis tender blue eyes compassionately on old man Dracutt's face. ,*

Not—Clinton?' Some of the wet men have come to my bouse lor clothing. I—I hope for the best, Jonathan. There's no knowing yet but I thought yon ougbt to be prepared. Dear boy! be was in to see us last nigbt—so lively, as he a! ways is! No, no. Jountban! I can't believe heisdrowned!' But Un le Jim turned away with a look that told a different story. 'I understand you've come to break it to me.' Jonathan spoke calmly, though his voice was very deep and husky, and be leaned heavily on the tiroom. •Tell me the truth, James is he drowned?' •So the men say but they——' James set out to explain, bet Jonathan cut him short. 'Where?' •Over by the wblte ice houses.' 'Go in and tell her,'said Jonathan,

He hiunell did not go In (and we will not), but started at once to walk to tbe scene of the disaster. •Drowned! and my last word to him was a harsh one!* he murmured, as he ItiU the gate and again, ever and auon, as h« tramped with difficulty through the

sYWwr—'Drowned!and

1*11

my last word

was unkind!' It was a mile to the spot, and tbe old mau was more inQrm than he appeared. He soon came in sight of the pond, how ever, and could a«e, 'ar off, groups of men moving excitedly aoout the broken fi'ld.

Some were clearing the water of the floating fragments of ioe others, in boaa,

standing on the unbroken edge,

were thrusting down poles, which he knew to be the long bandied, ponderous pond rakes, with which the bottom was in summer cleared of weeds. tTp and down, and to and fro, the poles were

flushed

and dragged, and he was sure

boy were seiurcblug tot bis boy, with thist terr'.ble knowledge, and with this scene tn full view, tbe old mail walked ike last half mile or his tollsotae

fie*kept the bank of the pond ubtll he was quite now, then wen! down upon the ice. Crowing an unbroken corner, be noon came up to the men with the poles.

They continued at work, while others standing by made way for him with ominous respect—the respect which even the rudeet persons instinctively show to one in affliction. There was a hnsh of voices as he appeared then old farmer Corbett turned te htm and said rather bluntly: 'It's a bad business, neighbor Dracutt. If tbe boys bad only beerd to me, it wouldn't a happened. Ikep* tellin'on 'em they worked too clust together though I'd no idee myself bat that tbe toe was thicker. Lucky for me, I'd Jest drove off when It gave way. Your boy want alone. We bad thirty men ana eighteen bones in to onct, Bnt I flew round, polled off the ropes from t'other bosses, and thro wed *em to tbe fellers .we oonldnt reach. Wooden scrapers was loeky (I vow, I believe the boys woold have hitched on to the Iron ones. U't hadn't been for me) they helped keep 'em afloat, the wooden scraper* aid we broke the ioe to the shore, and hilt tb* bosses' heads above water till they could tech bottom, an* In ten minutes we bad 'em all out,* 1 8

rERKE HAUTE SATURDAY EVEJNl^g MAIL

t'All!' said the old man, with a sodden elaw of bepe. i,, 'All tbe animals, an' ail tba Mien but yonr graadeon—-at least, he's the only one mlssin' fhr^s ws know. The*©'wsn't no need o' fata betn'drewned tt ftll bat be'd boen to git some hammers to knock ofl the balls from tbe bosses* boolli witb, an1*petrs the foollsh feller tucked 'em 1n his pockets. Tbey took bim right to the bottom, of course. An' what I'm 'foaredon now ta, we shan't find him at all. This here shore slants right down steep, to about seventy or eighty feet deep, off here an' with then hammers In bis pockets, with every stroggle be made, he'd be liable, don't ye see, to work his way furder an* furder down that pitch. That** what I tell *«nc but theydont seem Inclined to believe a word I say. If they'd believed me when I tolled 'em they onght to scstter more, en' not crowd together so on sech young ioe, 'twonld a been better for all on as, 1 vow/

Mr. Drscntt watched the men raking the pond* for some tima without speaking, though his lips moved now and then inaudibly. At last he asked for Kermer. •That's him witb the pole In the bow of that furder boat there,'said farmer Corbett. 'He's done his duty sence he's been here but if he been here afore, 'twould a saved all this. Nobody knowed how to go to work. Nobody would hear to me, though I telled 'em*-1' and so forth tie worthy farmer sppearing by this time to have convinced even himself that he uad foreseen th9 danger, and to find a dismal satisfaction in uttering prophesies after tbe fact. •Don*t handle your rake that way!' said the old man, «s farmer Corbett thrust down tbe implement in a fresh spot beneath tbe ice. 'Be more careful be more tender! You may hurt the poor boy!' 'He's past hurtin' by this time, I guess, likely,' said farmer Corbett. •The main thing now is to fish him out.' 'Wal, wal! be gentle! I wouldn't have ye mar bis fea ur's, nor any part of him, more'n I'd have ye tear my own flesh. If he's drownded, he's drownded but don't mangle him. Whereabouts was be when he went down?' 'That nobody knows. It's as much as a chap Wants to do, sech a time, to keep the run of himself, With an 'acre of ice slumpin' down under bim, and the water spurtin' up a bo lit bis legs he can't keep many eyes on. to his neighbors, nor do much else but mind bis own business for a spell. Two or three o' tbem that got the duckin'—they've gone ofif now for dry shirts and breeches—they said they scon Clint ss^sndin' on the ice not mye'n a few seconds 'fore it split up, though, of course, th«y can't tell jest where. A sudden casouse over neck an' heels into ice water makes a feller feel curl's, I tell ye, for about a minute,, an' kind o' forgit things. I tried it once myself.' 'How long 'fore you missed him?' the old man asked. •I vow, I don't know as we sh'd a missed him till this time,' said farmer Corbett, getting down on bis knees, and feeling witb bis rake tb Vhe utmost depth it would fatbom 'but Kermer missed bim. He asked for Clint Dracutt, a 'most tbe fust tbiog, 'fore even we'd got half the men out. He knowed about the hammers in his pockets, ye see. No use!' (drawing up the rake.) 'The bottom's gittip' down out o' my reach, and I go about two-an'-twentv feet. We shall have to lash poles to the rake handles an' then, if we don't find him, out boles in lha ice here behind us, an' fish for him through them.' 'Don't £,it discouraged,' cried the old man, seeing that others were at tbe same time beginning to relax their efforts. 'Let me take the rake.'

Farmer Corbett was quite willing to give it up and tbe old man foundatem porary relief to his distress of mind in the physical exertion of searching lor the body.

It was hard work", however, «nd his stretig'.h was soon exhausted. He was feebly baulinir up tbe weed-entangled rake from under the verge of the ioe, when some one came and took him by the arm. It was Phil Kermer, sober enough by this time. •This is no work for you, Mr. Dracutt. Come away let me send you home.' •No, no! I can't go till he is found,' said tbe old man. •I will see that everything is done that can be done,' said Pbil. 'Come my sleigh is here.'

Still the old man refused to go. And now the foreman was called away from him by the arrival of tbe President of the Ice Company, driving down in a cutter to the edge of the pond, where two of the directors, wbo were already on the spot, went to meet biui.

PHIL RESIGNS HIS SITUATION.

Kermer, on coming up, found tbe three in consultation. 'How is this, Kermer?' said the President, from under hie rich sleigh robes. 'Gentlemen,' said Pbil, 'I'll tell you just how it IV the haggard fece and earnest manner of the mau commanding at once their sympathy and respect. 'I suppose I am to blame in this matter.' He hesitated, dropped his head upon hi* breast, clinching bis hands and bis teeth tightly for a moiiient, then went on: •The truth is, I waa drunk last nigbt, and I wasn't myself tbls morning. There's no use disgufsinfethe fact I don't wish to disguise it Idon't wish to shirk tbe consequences. Do your worjt flr|th 1 me. gentlemen, I'm prepared.*' •But what can we do, Kermer?' 'One thing, certainly, Yob can discbarge a foreman who hlui been guilty of such gross neglect of duty. Yon can't do lees than that. You can do as much more as you please.' •But we don't know bow to spare you —we don't want to spare you, Kermer,' said tbe President. 'Yon have been a very useful man to ns. And this being the first offense of tbe kind, which I ass sore yon will never repeat—' •It'a no use, sir!' answered the foreman, In a voice shaken to its depths by strong emotion.

ethascaussaforeman

ace like mine can keep that place after tbe death of one man, and endangered tbe Uvea of fifty, by getting dronk.

The President and his two associates on the spot, bei*ig kind hearted sud just men, were greatly embarrassed to know what to do in tbe ease. If Kermer had approached them with falsehood sad exccNMt, endeavoring to east the blame of the accident upon others, their duty woold bave been comparittlvelv dear such a foreman wottha certainly bave deserved to be dismissed. Bat nothing disarms censure like self accusation, ana tbe deep remorse be evinced, yet more by his manner than by his words, seem

»I

ed the best gunftsnty.he could give of sober and faithful behavior in the fure 'There la force in. what you say, Kermer,' said one ol the directocs* 'Butithe very fact that you say it convinces me that you are, after all, a man to be trusted. You hate shown great ability and fidelity to onr Intereata hitherto, and I don't think one snch Indiscretion ougbt to ruin man. What's your opinion, gentlemen?'

The other two agreed with him, and proposed that the decision of the question should he postponed until the next regular meeting of the board- The truth was, Phil was too valuable a man tb lose*

The foreman was deeply aff9cted, but not at all persuaded, by tnls unexpected kindness. He struggled a moment with his emotions, then said: •Gentlemen, 1 thsnk you, this Is so much more than deserve,, but it can't be as yon wish. If you won't discharge me for the reasons I have given, then discharge me for my own sake. I cant go on ss If nothing had happened. If I could exchange places with that dead boy nnder the ice, I should be contented —1 should be quite hsppy. Since that can't be, it Seems to me that the only reliefl can have will be in punishment. If I don't have some outward punishment, my Inward punishment will be too great to bear. Let me go to work by tbe day under some other foreman, If you still want to keep me.' •Very well, Kermer,' said the President. 'We don't discbarge you, mind, but we accept your resignation, since you insist upon it, and we hire you by the day.' •Like any other laborer,' Kermer stipulated. •Like any other experienced laborer. You won't object to having charge of a gang of men, nnder me, will you, till we can find another foreman? I shall stay and look after tbe work myself for tbe present.' •Iam at your eervice, gentlemen— .drive ire,' sa'.d Pbil.

And he looked as if he would like to be driven bard.

I I

A FAREWELL AND AN APPARITION.

The horses and scrapers were going again busily and cbeerraily, as if nothing had happened, only half a dozsn men r.main'ng with tbe late foreman to search for tbe drowned body. It was a toilsome and discoUrSglng task, and at last old man Dracutt, chilled and very much exhausted, consented to be taken home. •I telled 'em so, I telled 'em so!' farmer Corbett repeated every half hour, as he watched the ineffectual rakes, lengthened out by the addition of poles lashed to the bandies, working their way into deeper and deeper water. And it really began to appear that he was right in his conjecture that Clint had gone down the steep slope beneath tbe unbroken ice. •They won't get him now, at all—mark Ay word, boys—not without berisesto tbe surface an' freezes into the ice, where we mav come acrpst him when we come to cut.'

A9 that day passed, and the hext, and tbe third and fourth likewise, and the body was not found, the old man became triumphant, and offered to make large bets In support of his theory. He would, no doubt, bave been deeply disappointed and chagrined if tbe body bad turned up at last and proved bim to be no true prophet. But that was not to be.

On tbe fifth day the search was abandoned, and be again had the satisfaction of reminding people with his usual sagacious smirk and arrogant bead shake, that be 'telled 'em so.'

Tbe catastrophe soon ceased t» be talked about. As tbe frozen surface of the pond was suffered to close over the spot, so the ice of oblivion seemed soon to form over the memory of poor Clint Dracutt. ,The groups of skatera, owie bis daily companions, flying, on swift, ringing irons along that shore, and sometimes pausing to observe, one to another, 'I wonder whereabouts under us Clint Dracutt is!'then speeding on sgainjoyous as ever, were types of the world out of whose

busy

4You

quence,

don't see your

own interests ss I see them. You will rtand better with the community If you discharge me. That's the only atonement yon caa make to the boy's frtends. They will feel better. And as an example, gentlemen, you ought to dp Jt* if for no other reason.' •How so, Kermer?' •Because,' said Phil, wbo seemed to have lived and thought more in tbe past two hours than la years before, ana to bave come to great oonelusions, •because young men ought not to be able to say that a In an lihpettitt

and careless life he bad dis-

sppeared. Will more be bald of you and me, think you. O my friend! when the universal icy tablet is laid over our heads also?

rt,n•Q,

6!°2®

There re three or four hearts, however (may we hope for as many such and be grateful), that did not forget the uolucky youth so readily. Upm bis grandparents, left now to their damb and wretched loneliness, the loss had of coarse fallen most heavily. Yet there was one other to whom it occasioned even greater suffering, though in a dif terent way. This was Phil

j. t.... L.»

even

.4 MIBK IMI

6,600 good quality unbleached moslint4 Children's Znemusllnhose,8cand 10. Double IWd waterproof cloth, 60 owls. Handsome felt skirt, GO cents. Red sll woolflannrts, 15 eents. Good Canton flannels 7c and 8c. Enttf* stock ofbest prints, 5 cento.

TAKE NOTICE:

them bnt the sting lay deeper than that —he felt that he was responsible for tbe boy's death. With bim, therefore, ^iere regrets were consumed in burning remorse.

It was a terrible thing to Phil to be obliged to give np all hope or recovering the body. He regretted now that he bad consented to remain upon tbe pond at all.

Every day, and every hour of the day he was reminded of the death which his conscience told him bis own negligence and unMndhess had caused. It seemed to him that he was constantly walking over the grave of bia mnrdeced friend. Pass where he would on tbe ice, there tbe dead face seemed to rise beneath it, and with upturned eyes and still, livid Hps, reproach bim for bis crime. And he was now helping to make merchandise of that ice.

The thought of it became intolerable to him the Very sight of the pond, which had before been his delight, filled him with loathing.

Everybody noticed the charge that had come over the lat* foreman, and he had tbe sympathy and respect or the entire commbnity. Etntna Welford heard of it, and she longed inexpressibly to see him once more and speak to him one little word of comfort—all the interest she had ever felt in bim, all the tenderness be had ever inspired, returning With tenfold force upon ber heart, now that she knew he was nnhsppy.

It wss generally believed that Kermer was wonting his way back gradually and sure!y to the place which he had felt obliged to resign. A week—two veeks —passed no other foreman was engaged and the ice was at last thick enough to cut.

It Was Saturday evening, and on Monday morning, if no more snow fell in the interim, the harvesting of tbe crystal crop was to begin. As Phil was leaving the pond at dusk, the president stopped him and pot a letter into his hand. •Think of it till Sdondpy,' said he, 'then give us your answer.'

Phil went Into the tool house, struck a light, and read tbe letter. It was a formal proposition for bim to resume his former auties as foreman, witb an increased salary.

He put the letter into bis pocket, extinguished the light, locked up tbe tool house, and went home. He did not wait till Monday, however, before coming to a decision. Feforelie slept that night bis mind was made up. He determined to decline tbe offer and to leave tbe pond.

In leaving tbe pobd, he would, of course, leave tbe town for what woold then be left to hold him there but these painful associations from which he was growing morbidly anxious to be free? But, before going, he felt he bad a duty I to fulfil. He had never yet bad the courage to visit Clint's grandparents siuce the accident be would do ao now. And Emma—ougbt be not to see her once more and acknowledge to her that she bad always been right with regard to his nne dangerous habit, and then bid ber a final adieu?

The next day be wrote his letter, for mally and positively declining the company's proposition, and in the evening set out to make bis farewell calls. 'Etn ma first,' thought Phil, with a strange swelling of tbelieart.

It was a clear January night beautiful, still moonlight on the beautiful, still snow. Phil's shadow glided beside bim as he walked, and a darker shadow than that dogged his every step—the memory of Clint. It was only two weeks since they had met together in that house, and then the boy uad been in the man's way. But what would not, the man have given now to have bad the boy in bis way again to-nigbt!

It is true, a horrible temptation beset Kermer as be approached and sawi toe light in tbe windows and all bis old feelings toward Emma surged op again. He believed that if Clint had lived she would bave married him. Now that Clint waa gone, perhaps he, Pbil But he would not allow the thought to shape itself in his mind. To profit in any way by tbe boy's death would, he felt, make bim a murderer Indeed. 'N-**, no!' he thought, crushing down bis he-art aa it rose rebelllously 'this very thing makes a union with her utterly and forever impossible I should always feel that I had gained her by getting rid of poor Clint. I won't forget this now whien I come to see her and be did not forget it.

They met almost in silence at the door, so much were they overoome by tbe emotions the occasion called up In each. Tbe children ran to him, as of old. and Sissy, remembering tne fan she bad tbe last time be was there, asked for Clint. •What bave you done with Clint? Did ou put him down nnder the ithe?

Ton't the fitheth bite him there?' 'Hush, hush said Emma, while poor Phil was aname to speak a word.

Kermer.

bad been really attached to Clint, and would have missed bim under any circumstances that might have separated

Bat tbe little chatterbox ran on. She wished to know how Cllot could get ap

Terrible Mud Blockade

'4 I .V ., .. 1

An entire season of impwsable roads? The "dWlstrow effects everywhere seen, Business Paralised and bink», bankers, Insurance companies and leading merchants falling by the hundreds. .• RW

tbe prosperity or rarming commuuiw»™ shelves, Dcught at prices cearly double splendid organization tells the most po maXet weare^enabled to make daily-purchases, and thns avoid baying heavy stocks at tbe opening of th mods are at thvir highest figures. During the psst'90 days we have purcuased some of the greatest bargains tothe peopleof Terre^aute and vicinity. Bat the flme for oar semi-annual clearanoe sale has arrived,

IMAHAIV IAMT ttffliuMl. mtlfli Still lOVAT.

these goods, bought at such rainoaely low prices, mast go still lower,

Grand Special Sale at Hud Blockade "Pndel ^ale (dommonces Saturday Morning, January 19th, 1878.&.

Grand Smash Up in Prints. Handsomest Styles of the Season.

am Tarda hmt Merrimack Prints, 6«. 5,000 yards best Wamsutta Prints, 4c. 3 cases best Cocbeoo Prints, 5c. 150 ptedafr

y?"" pSflcPrta£:5c/ aw pieces Gloucester Prints, Sets. 5,000 ysrds best

atf —f pgif^la ftf whiiitsr mika and of tb» latartand most desirable rtylea, AYABP. ThescrDrtoei^re simply unprecedented and unapproachable. These same goods were always sold at 10s a yard before th^wunT^ ^l«otb« d*y food* establishments of TerreHaate are getting

Good robe print*, 4 cents.

Job lot of dress goods, 7c and 0& 40 pieces elegant salting^ cents, sold early in the mason at 25 oenta. Handsomest good* you ever taw at20c, 25c and Xta. Tycoon Bepps, 12^ snd 15 eents.

FOSTER BROTHERS, Great New York City Store, 418 Main St., Terre Haute, Ind.

to heaven, now that the ice was thick and hard all over him, aud would Phil cut a hole to let him pass through. •I with he wouldn't go to heaven,' she said, 'for I want him to oome and make a wheelbarrow of Tommy, and let me be a bag of pototo6th)«bd thell me like be did the lath time. Will you let me be a bag of potatoeth, Mithta Phil?'

But Phil, cot to the heart by the innocent prattle, said he didn't believe he could make a wheelbarrow besides, tbe blacksmith shop (namely, tbe old grandfather) had gone to call on a sick neighbor then what would they do If the wheelbarrow should break down? So, Sissy was put off and the children were soon sent out of the room.

Then Phil told Emma of his determination- to leave town, probably never to return. She bad not expected that. She had hoped that be bad come to say something very, very different. Why did he go? she asked. And ha told her something of what he bad suffered. •But we all know it was an aocident then why do you blame yourself so?' 'Because I am to blame,' answered Kermer, with solemn self condemnation. •And that brings me to speak of what I bave come to say to you to-night.'

What could tbat be, if he bad not said it alreadv? Emma could not conceal ber agitation. Never before bad she felt so powerfully attracted toward this man. Suffering bad softened bim his old self complacency had vanished, and in its place humility, and charity, and sweetness of spirit surrounded bim with their warm and living atmosphere. This change in himself, together with a similar change in her, perhaps, (for tbe two bad suffered), rendered nim mord than ever susceptible to the charm of her presence, and he felt compelled to keep a fast bold in his mind upon his strong resolution to avoid yielding to that influence.

After a pause, holding her hand and looking into her eyes, he said to her: *1 thought I ought to acknowledge to you, before I go, that you were altogether right in what you required of me, and that I was altogether wrong. It may seem a mere mockery for me to make that oonfession now it is too late for it to do anybody any good. Yet I felt I ought to make it.'

Why 'was it too late? Why did he go now that the only obstacle that bad before snoarated them seemed to be removed?' for he declared that he had forsworn his hsbit of dissipation forever. The real cause of bis leaving her was too painful a subject for liim to talk about, and he could only say that he went •because he must.' Then the conclusion was forced upon ber that he did not care for her any morr that he bad. perhaps, never really cared for ber, and ber womanly pride and pique were roused, giving her unnatural strength for the separation. She was wonderfully dignified and cold till he bad reachea the door then he opened his arms, and she fell sobbing upon bis breast. He kissed her once and again, and breathed iorth I know not what passionate parting words with his farewell, then butriedly departed from the bouse, like a strong man fleeing from a great temptation.

In tbe street, he did not know what to do witb himself. He felt more utterly forlorn and desolate than be bad ever believed it possible for a man to be and live. 'Go back to her!' whispered one passion In hia breast. 'Go to tbe bsr room!1 whispered another and darker passion. He resisted both.

He oonld not go st eace and make bis farewell cail on tbe old couple, and so be wandered down a lane that led to the pond. Why be should choose to revisit st that time a scene which he could not behold without a pang, it is not easy 'to say. But sometimes pain itself, especially when associated with some object of affeqtlon or respect, has a fascination for ns.

He went down to the shore, and stood by a high board fenoe that served as a shelter to a farmer's hot beds—the wintry sky above bim cloudless and pure before him the cold, shining silence of tbe moonlit Ice. There were no skaters on the pond tbat night, and its stillness was broken only by Its own wild and solitary noises.

As Pbil was gaslag In the direction of tbe spot where the catastrophy bad occurred, he became all at once aware of what seemed a human figure walking on tbat part of tbe pond. Iu a little while, It appeared to be approaching him. Nearer and nearer It came, until be thought be ought to catch the sound ef footsteps, but not a sound was hesrd. Silently ass ghost, out of tbe ghostly sliver it came, gliding along the ice. Now it stood still, and now It threw out Its arms wildly and beat its breast. And now it assumed to the eyes of tbe amazed spectator a uiien and shape tbat made his blood run cold—tbe mien and shape of tbe drowned youth, Clinton Dracutt! [TO ME OONOIiTTDED NEXT WEEK.]

'prevail. It to under just such circumstances as these tbat our

oowerfully in our favor. With two members of our firm at all times In the New York

u1—

The immense crops ivy trade because of -for goods upon the

---snlngof the season, when alns we have ever ved, and, in oonse-

American

We hate Slaughtered Prices la erery Department Nothing Held Back.

,r,,n

w^ch

P^nta, 5c.

a yard for tbem.

Nice far sanflh, 75 cents. Beautiful sets at 1.50 and fl'75. Good Undershirts 25 cents. Good prints, 4 cents. 910 cloaks down to 98. 920 cloaks down §12. 940 cloaks down 914 50. y,

*jt,