Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 36, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 2 March 1878 — Page 2

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THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

1ERRE

HAUTE, MARCH 2,1878

BABY MARION IN CHURCH.

Baby Marion went to meeting To hear her grandpa prescli ,. Tis Tirana time, I musi t* dood,

2 *$•*' 1 rausn*t laugh nor skeech.

"I ve got my new boo des «n, And my pity reddened hat. And my liau'chlef In nay lttle muff,

Tbatit like Aunt Jane* white cat-

-•W Ist'r

So Marlon went to meeting. Asa rosebud,sweet am lair,-

She piped up in the singing, And bowed her head in piayer.

She waved her wee lace handkerchief To her little playmate,Graoe, An I tried to wipe asnab»-am

From off her mamma's lace. u-

She threw klwes to a lady ,| l%i. Who sat across the aisle A3 V4 Ga* Dr. Meade fome eandy,

Which made the deacon smiley -ff She climbed npm a foot-atool. s! i?- Whispering, •'l)anm», ain't I tall? -,)

I I wish danpa'J look down here, Bat then, perhaps he'd fall. ^,

Then Marlon went home aipiin t.» And Jumped on papa's knee t?

We all have been to

eiln',

Vt use we are dood, you see. """"ff And danpa preached: 'A 'ittle baby S ept in the barn with cows And men came and dlv liim Plenty

And then they made him bows.'

From Scrlbner—March.

Concerning a Certain Prodigal,..

MMr&»-Jniwi4

The first time I encountered the late Noah Babbitt, journeyman printer, he struck me, as ttiev say on the frontier, for a loan of two dollars. It was in the sanctum of the Commonwealth newspaper at Topeka. He had drifted in from his habitual wanderings only the day before, and been put on as a "sub.," with the customary promise of 'regular cases' as soon as a vacancy should occur. This particular night be was not at work and after the last of the loafers had gone, and while I sat running my peneii over a delayed proof hurriedly, and vex"d with the heat and the buzzing of insects about the lamp shade—it was a fervid August night, I remember, with not air enough to disturb the exchanges lying loosely in the open window—he tapped me familiarly on the shoulder and said: •Cap, that leader of yours yesterday on the labor question was an awl'ul good thing yon sounded the key-note, and I ,want to congratulate you.'

Thereupon we shook hands with extravagant warmth, though with a reser vation ot mutual distrust, I think, and then we fell to talking ou a variety of topics, ranging from pauperism to the atonement, in that candid, positive and encyclopedic, but picturesque and superficial, style common to newspaper offices the world over. So much did the fellow interest me that, weary as I was with the night'* work, I found myself, after two hours, still patiently listening to him, as the town clock struck four in the morning. In spite of my first Instinctive misgivings, he made me like bitn. He seemed so frank and selfconfident,

quick-witted and so hero

ically contented and then, did he not fill every lull in tho conversation with a flattering reference to my editorials? Ah, right well he knew, the calculating wretch, that he, too, had sounded a keynote With that introductory congratulation I But ifcttas not until after we had finished our^Kh^and I was making ready to leave himTHiftV.he asked me—I hardly know how, it ww d,gne so dexterouslv—to favor birn with tf^eopple of dollar* till Saturday.' Of course tte^jot It, though I needed not to be told thatvrith the borrowing printer, 'till Saturday' is a measure of time that spans eternity and then he walked with me, arm in arm, to the Old Crow saloon, where he would not permit me to avoid joining him in a glass ol ale, and as I turned to go, I saw him band my two dollar bill over the bar with an air of oomplacenoe that reHlly touched me like a personal kindness.

After this we were frequently together, and came to be quite cordial, not tossy confidential, in our relations. Every night, almost, when I was waiting for the cabalistic *30' that ended the tele graphic news report, or after the final proofs had bean corrected and the compositors bad 'pasted their strings,' be would oome slipping into my room with that soft, considerate tread peculiar to printers when entering an editorial sanctum, and we would talk there as at oar first meeting, or if the weather was pleasant, would go forth Into the night and walk the broad, smooth streets, till the moon went down. My friend was a confirmed 'bannerite,' as the printers term it—a careless, shiftier, strolling Vagabond, here to day and there tomorrow, without home or kindred, and treating life as a farce full or amusing checks and balances, with death closing it all. at last, in a kind of unguessed conundrum. He had walked thousands of miles over the country. He always walked when be traveled. 'I get sea sick on the cat*/ he said to me once, with a grim smile and then be added, slowly and in a shrinking tone, 'makes my feet sore to ride, too.' During the previous year be bad 'made the tour of Canada,' as he phrased It thenoe to Boston, New York, Charleston, New Orleans, and op the Mississippi to St. Louis, and then across Illinois and Iowa, and finally to Topeka. He had not worked over a week in any one plaoe, nor rode a mile on the whole journey. *4 bankerin' forsoenery,' was the reason he gave me for thia extended ratnole. Ana surely be bad not been blind to the shifting delights of aky and tea and shadowing forest which bad opened oat before him like an unrolling cloture.

Nor had be failed, vagabond as he was, to note the peculiar and varying traits of the different peoples among whom his travels had led him lor he had a keen insight, and detected a flaw or a foible of character as if it had been a bourgeois letter in a line of nonpareil. He was belter than a book to me, since he wed himself and turned his own leaves and I grew to look forward all the day to his coming nightly vlrit with Impatient eagtrnes*. No deubt be lied to me many times and scandalously for he was mortal and not wholly without egotism but he did it, when be deemed Inadvisable, in such a lenf*. overcoming, cliff-like way, that it tm aim** good as the troth. Where there is much to interest, says some, generous philosopher, there most yet be something to

P*Why

the boys in tbe office celled hiin

'Old Noah,' I coaid never quite make out. Perhaps it waa because be bad traveled so far and e«en so much that hi* life seemed to them to have beeo pro* jected forward, somehow, flutter and farther (ban the years counted. Or, it may have been that bis supreme indifference to all the alert and urging

-am

elements of every-day life gave to him, in their estimation, something of the leaning and waiting spirit of one aged before his time. Certainly he bore no physical signs of being an old man. He stood erect, lacking even the depression of chest that is characteristic of his craft bis eyes wire full, clear and steady and the slight tonch of silver in his whiskerrwsde his lace stronger rather than weaker. He conld not have been more than forty be might easily have passed for thirty- five. The oldest thing about him was bis costume. That was always and conspicuously in the pathetic Kecond childhood of decay, and always, too, out of harmony with tbe prevailing weather, thus appearing to have been left over from the preceding season. The summer that 1 saw so much of him be wore a heavy, dingy beaver cloth coat, usually buttoned to the chin with clerical exactness—to often, I apprehend, only to bide the want of a shirt and he declared to me with every indication of truth, that a pair of brown cotton overalls bad served to temper the bitter Illinois winds to his shuddering frame through tbe previous winter. The peacock is a pretty bird,'' be remarked to me once, casually discoursing upon this matter of apparel,'but it doeMi't cwunt with all its gaudy, feather?, it can't sing worth a cent. It looks well, but its mnsio is the most abominable noise I ever heard—and have boarded in a house where they kept a melodeon,' he added, with a conclusive toss of the head.

Like most printers, 'Old Noah' was a good deal of a cynic, though his cynicism was so closely woofed with a subduing sincerity that it was very difficult, frequently impossi ble, to tell where the one left off and tbe other began. As I have said be looked upon life as a play, and he was fond of reciting Shakspeare's "Seven Ages" in support of this iaea. 'It's all right,' he would argue, 'as long as you don't care. That's the whole secret. Ignorance is bliss oftenertban we think it's knowing too much that bothers people, and if you're bothered you can't enjoy the show, don't you see? It isn't altogether unlikely, let me tell you, that a well behaved dog, asleep in the sun and sure of a bone for his dinner, isn't better off than we are, with all our wisdom, and all our doubts.' And yet he reverenced wisdom, I am sure, and respected all honest opinions, and I think that, away down in his heart, lurked a quiet faith in the saving power ol virtue but I doubt if he believed very much in the naked moral strength of human nature. I know he once sorely tried my patience in that regard. I was telling him how George Insley, known to us both as a hardened specimen of the printer toper, had taker, the pledge and was manfully keeping it and after I had finished, with the* assurance that Insley had not tasted liquor for nearly six months (he subsequently shot himself, poor fellow!), he dropped bis bead a moment, and then looking up with an incredulous smile, said quietly: •There was some truth in those 'Arabian Nights' stories, then, after all?'

Singularly enough, too, his skepticism was confined to his own sex singularly, I say, for be waa a man, you know, and not a woman. 'It was Eve that tbe snake had to charm and betray,' he was accustomed to put it 'Adam fell as a matter of course.' This was a little sophistic, to be sure, as much of his logic was apt to be, but the sentiment of it was so knightly that it readily won him credit among his critical fellow priuters, even at the expense of some disloyalty to their own personal sense of masculine superiority.

He bad been in love, once in his life, this tattered prodigal, and the venture had uot been what could be called a complete success. He told me all about it, ot his own accord, one restful night as we sat on the bridge at the foot of Kansas avenue, listeuing to the quiver of tbe ootton wood foliage, and watching the river slowly gather tbe shadows to its tawny bosom. He Was religiously sober that nisrht, for a wonder, and I felt that it must have been Bome subtle witchcraft of tbe atmosphere, rather than^tfee few so-so remarks we had just been exchanging about Phil Reade's marriage witl?-tiie winsome little singer, Minnie Beats, that so suddenly drew bis eyes away from tbe ftater and out into the vague perspective beyond the opposite shore, and sent hie thoughts backward with a bound, as it were, to the rich days when every sky was blue to bim and every sound a rapture of harmony. 'She vas a good, solemn girl,' he began, 'and I think her intentions were honorable all tbe time. I know, now, that she was not handsome, for her eyes were crossed slightly, and her cheek bones were high, and her obln had a retiring turn,—the face didn't 'justify,' you understand,—and her hair inclined to redness but she was as beautiful to me, then, as a flower, and I loved her verv dearly. I was holding the 'ad.' cases on the 'Quincy Herald,'in Illinois, at the time, and saving some money every week. I was expecting to be a man of family, you know. I bad fixed in uiy own mind what kind of a bouse we would have, where we would buy our groceries, how tbe children would look and what we would name them (there were to be several of them, all girls), and a hundred other things that I'm ashamed to think of now. Rut it was all very real to me them, I tell you. Not that I ever spoke to Isabel—pretty name, wasn't itf—about such matters. Ob, no. We were a very sensible pair of lovers, I can assure yon, and our courtship was painfally oorrect There was none of tbe 'yon bright orb,' nonsense about us. We werenYt a bit spooney. We didn't turn the light down, nor hold each other's hands, nor say 'darling.' Not any. Once, only once, I put my arms around her waist, and might have kissed her, maybe, but she looked squarely into my face, and said, 'Yon forgtt,' and that was all there was of it. I used to wiab, sometimes, that she would be a

Jave

little more demonstraM ve,—

one gets tired of mere words, you know, in 'takes' of that kind,—but perhaps— perhaps it waa

better as

was/

He paused and pressed bis bands to his forehead, as If be feared tbe sweet memory would slip away from bin in his talk and laat waiting for him to proceed, busying myself meanwhile with thoughts of a oertain June cheeked Juliet to whom I bad myself played Romeo, and whose half forgotten image his Idyl bad strangely restored to me therein the pensive starlight. •Well,* he continued, directly, 'we were very happy—too happy, Cap.—too happy. If there hadn't been qnlte so much of it, it would have lasted longer, probably. The truth is, I waa so bsppy that I bad to do something to tone it down—to looeen tbe quoina, yon might say—and I took to drinking like a fish. I eonidnt have helped it to save my life. Perhaps if abe bad acted a little warmer toward me, and 1 oould have caressed and kissed her—been a Uttle more ambrosial, you understand—it would have made a difference with me. But I dont know—I don't know.'

He relapsed into silence again, and there was only the dull fretting of tbe waters about the pier beneath us to disturb the stillness until, after eeveral minute*, be resumed—rapidly, now,

TBRRE HAUTE HAIUEDAY EVENING MAIL.

and with apparent anxiety to have done witb ibe sobjeot: 'She bore with It month alter month, aa patiently as a nun but she couldn't stand it always, of coarse^ and so she told me, at last, not in anger, or blunUy, but with firmness, and yet sadly, 1 thought, that the time had come for us to part. It would have choked me to speak, even if speaking would have done any good, which it couldn't so I simply i* "k ber hand a moment—it trembled, calm as she waa—and bowing, went away.'

He paused once more, and I was upon tbe point of rising, supposing be had said all be desired to say, but he motioned me to remain, and went on talking. •Alter tbat, Hay sick along time—eight weeks, they told me—witb some infernal sort of fever, and tbe money I bad saved went to the dootor*. I pulled through, or course. "Men have died, from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love." I don't know how it was, but when I got up again mv brain seemed to be kind of incoherent— "pied," you might say—and I couldn't get steady work, and finally they began to whisper around about sending iue to Jacksonville—that's where the -ray asylum Is, you know. Then I raiied up, and the first dark n... 1 jumped the town without saying blessed word to anybody, and since then—well, you know the rest, or a good deal of it. But

ou didn't know—you would never guessed if I hadn't tol you—tbat it was too muoh happiness made me what I am!'

With this last paradox, he' turned partially aside, and I noticed tbat he was fumbling about bis clothes as if in search of something—tobacco, I presumed. Presently, he drew out from some inscrutable biding place an old creased and rumpled leather pocketWoik, and took from it a taded sprig of oedar, and.banding it to me, said, witb that glassy, cynical smile I had seen so often: 'There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.' Thea be told me Isabel had given it to bim once, stauding by the gate, and that he had carried it through all the long years as a memento of her. When I reached it back to him, be put it away again in the wrinkled old pocketbook as tenderly as if it bad been a tress of hair from the head of a doad baby, and then, 'I wonder if she [ever thinks of nae?' he said, quite seriously, and we walked leisurely up the long street together, neither of us speaking a word more until we came to the oorner whero we had to separate, and there we merely said 'good-night,' and parted.

I did not see him again lor some time, and when, at length, he made me another visit, in the altemoon of a mellow October day, he informed me that he was about'to leave tbe town. 'Our planet is dropping into its annual shadow,' he said, with mock gravity, 'and I must hie me away to fresh fields and pastures new. I want to com Jiune with Nature, you understand to touch the earth, like Antaeus to eat haws, and smell tbe fall wheat: to mingle with the quails,and blue jays, and wood-peckers, and all tbat sort of thing. Be good to yourself, Cap. Don't work too hard, and beware of tbe enemy which men put in their mouths to steal away their brain?. By-by.' And before I had time to answer, be was out out of my sight and shuffling down the stairs, leaving me in a mood that was nearer sadness tbau I would have cared to confess, and which, I fear, gave a downcast tinge to the Commonwealth's editorials for several mornings afterward.

He returned in about two weeks, strange to say, and he solemnly asserted that he had only been 'looking for a homestead.' He was jaded, loot-sore, and as usual, a little shabbier than usual as to clothing. He bad read, he said, in some real estate paper, of a locality out In primeval Kansas where corn grew wild, and live stock waxed fat on the mere superabundance of ozone, and every quarter section had been neatly fenced with stone by tbe geological con vulslons of past ages and be bad been bunting for it, intending to enter a homestead in it and becomq a gentle shepherd. He couldn't find it, though and now he wanted a fdw days work 'to replenish his depleted exchequer.' But most of all,he said, he wanted to see the man who wrote those things be read in tbat paper.

Tbe toreman found work fer bim in job-room but the next Saturday he left again, without even the formality of saying good-bye to me. We beard of him in a few day, cracking jokes with Nobe Prentice of the Junction Union then working a week for Milt. Reynolds of the Parson's Sun then in the calaboose at Fort Scott,»and Web Wilder of tbe Monitor paying fines for bim to keep him out of the chain gang and from Fort Scott he swung around, about tbe middle of December, to Topeka. 'Just glided in to pay my respects.' ho remarked, 'and to tell you I'm off for the sunny South. I like you Kausas fellows ever so much, but I want to see tbe magnolias.'

Tbat was all he said. An hour later, happening to look from my window, I saw bim moving briskly down tbe street which was also the state road, and, waving bis hand to me, be disappeared.

He came back again, with the grass and tbe birds, the following spring. He bad been to Galveston, he explained, and bad worked his way north through Arkansas and the Indian Territory. Somehow the trip seemed to have dia appointed bim. He talked gloomily about it, when I could get bim to talk of it at all, and the very thought of it appeared to cloud bia spirita like the haunting of some miserable dream. Perhaps the trouble was deeper than my shallow viaion discerned perbsps it came from within,and not from without at all. Sometimes I thought so but knowing him as I did, the absurdity of tbe thing would creep in to npset 'such notions. And flnslly, when he came to me one night, witb tbe old fsmilisr quinical expression in bia countenance, and told me be wanted to talk to me about writing an obituary for bim when he should die, I felt sure that be was recovering himself and would soon tonch bia natural poise again. *1 hope you appreciate the honor I confer upon you,' aald be, 'in selecting you to give me my final send-off. It's because I like your styk and 1 want you to tell just the barefooted facta about me—"nothing fxtennate, nor aught set down in mallo*." Dont speak O' me as a "brilliant, but erratic" fellow, tor tbat win simply mean tbat I wss an awful liar. DonH say of me, "He bad his faults,as who of us has not," beoause that is merely a polite way of telling that tbe deceased was a drunken sot. And if I die of tbe jim jama, as I probably aball, dont say it was apoplexy, or paralysis, but call it jim jams, plain sod simple I'll feel better about it if you do. I suppose there are a few good* things yon can say of me. Say 'em as kindly as possible, please. And chuck in a little Shakapeare—if you can think of something to suit. Of course you cant ssy anything about where I've gone we cant any of us figure much on that, you know—ever-thing's so mixed and uncertain over there. Gents la closes, you rscollect, with a coffin.'

Baring thus bcapoken my services,

and Indicated his preferences as to how the delicate task should be performed, be retired, humming to ^himself tbe breezy chorus of an old drinking sonsr and I thought but little, and that only in

ludicrous vein, of liis singular request, until, some days afterward, they came and told me he was m:baiug. Nobody knew when, or bow. why, bo bad departed. Evidently, h« bid stolen off in the night, not wishing to speak of bis plans, If be bad any, for we learned on inquiry that be had eveu onSitted to settle with bis too indulgent landlady. But in bis composing st.ck, lying upou his case, he kad left a line of ty pe, which spelled these wordf 'Gone West, to grow up with the country.' 1 never saw him any more, and never beard Iroai bim uutil I chanced one day upon a fugitive notice ofbis death. He was disou ered, the paper said, frozen stiff and stark, in the February snow and ice of a Minnesota prairie. "Very oddly, it was a young lady who found him—some accidental Isabel, perhaps— and they took bim into the tearest town on a wood sled, the coroner and a few others, and then. I suppose, they dug a bole for him in the numb earth and put him away.

Alas, ydu poor, queer, dead-and gone prodigal, where be your gibes now? Was it late, or but your ewn folly, that beckoned you to au end so pitifully desolate? you meet death as you had confronted life, with that unflinching eye and that placid, masterful smile? And did they find, I wonder, in some whimsical recess of your ragged garments, a poverty-stricken old leather pocketbook, and a little sprig of faded cedar?

Here I might stop,content to let silence do the rest. But, recalling his injune tion to 'chuck in a little Shakspeare,' and remembering, also, his skepticism awd his way wardnesa, I deem it only meet and fair to add in his behalf that carefully charitable petition which the great monarch of thought puts into the king's mouth at tbe death bed of Beaufort: 'Peace to his soul, if G^d'a good pleasure be!'

THE PROMPTER'S LAST CALL. [Cincinnati Enquirer.] He.was an old man, his hair white and thin. He h*d been sick for some time past at theM Hotel. 1 he com piny would occasionally drop in to see how the poor old fellow thrived, and minister to his wants as well as they could.

A drizzling rain was falling in the lamplit street below. The tire of the grate played with a ghastly effect upon the old man's emsciated face, and he tossed his head restlessly upon his pillow. Two ladies of the company sat by the bed—one with fair hands smoothed the tangled gray hair from his damp brow. The silence was really oppressive. Nothing conld be heard* but the low ticking of the clock on tbe mantel and the pattering of the rain on the window without.

The door opened noiselessly and the physician entered. All made way for the man of science. How eagerly they watched him as he felt the invalid's pulse. The fair-haired soubrette was the first to break the silence. •!f '1 "Doctor, is there any hope?"

The physician slowly shook his head as he tenderly dropped the poor thin band, and softly said: "The end is very near."

Ttn minutes passed—twenty. Tbe sufferer was veiy quiet. A gamin in the street below called loudly to a companion. Theoid man suddeniy opened bis eyes and distinctively said in an authoritative voiw .. "Half hour—halt hour!"

All was quiet again. The company in the room seemed awed by the presence of death, aud reverently bowed their heads, waiting mutely for the end. Some one below stairs opened a door, and the sift notes of a piano wero distinctly heard in the room. The fold prompter roused himself from his stupor and clearly called: "Overture—all down to begin

Then they understood him, poor old man. Actor and actress looked into each other's faces, and truly realized that the ruling passion was indeed strong in death. In his last moments bis heart was with his beloved profes sion. Ab, alas! it was bis life drama, and be was in tbe last scene of tbe last act. From this moment he Legan to sink rapidly. The friends gathered closer around the bedside with pitiful faces. One of the ladies, witb a sob, turned away. It seemed to rouse him. He feebly said: "Everybody ready to end act!"

A terrible paleness came over tils face, dark rings formed around his eyes. It wss tbe gbast ly hue of death. He did not move. They thought be bad passed away, be was so quiet and motionless. The doctor leaned over softly and listened. The loud ticking of the clock grated harsbly on tbeir ears, but no one moved. The door of tbe parlor below opened and again the solt notes of tbe piano could be beard. At tbiainstsnt the clock upon tbe mantle struck one. His dim eyes brightened for moment. Tbe old look ot intelligence stole over bis wan face. The physician stooped to catch the feeble whispered sentence: "Ring down —tbe drama is over!" 5

Tbe fair-haired girl ailently closed bis sightless eyes, ana thus, like a plaintive melody, tbe old prompter's lire passed •way

A BAD PLACE FOR TRAMPS. A tramp passing through Hubbsrdston, Vermont, a few days ago, met a young man on tbe sidewalk and accost ed him with tbe following result: 'What aooommodations has thia town for travelers?' 'Two good hotels,' was the reply. 'Yes, yee but what accommodations for poor travelers thst cannot p«.y for a lodging?' 'Very poor the cells in tbe lockup are not as comfortable as otir horse stalls.' 'I should thinks person would be liable to lake cold,' mused tbe tiamp. 'Take ooldt' replied tbe young man, 'why, two tramps frose to death there one day last week." 'I should think it would be for tbe interest of the town to furnish more comfortable accommodations it must be a great expense to bury tbe bodies this cold weather.' 'Oh no.' aaya tbe young man *on tbe contrary, it hi very profitable they send tbe bodies to tbe dissecting rsoms and receive ten dollars apiece for them.' The tramp inquired the distance to tbe nearest town. s,

A Mr. Davis, of Medford, Miss., a short time ago, while shaving, toll backward upon the floor, and was pronounced dead. As be had expressed fears that he might be buried alive, tbe body was kept several days In the bouse and ears* fully watched. Tbe remains were finally buried at Maiden. After tbe funeral, MM widow ibd her daughter, who reside in different houses, on a certain night dreamed tbe deceased waa buried alive and was trying to release himself from the grave. Tbeytcld tbeir dreams to each other, and finally canned tbe grave to be opened. To tbe horror of all tlin citirpae was found lying on itaside, and tbe top of the casket broken, showing that tho man bad made strenuous efforts to escape death by suffocation.

1 HE WASN'T MEAN Mr. Elijah.Hitchcock Was a Connecticut constable, wbose character waa under scrutiny Deacon Solomon Rising W*' inquired of about him 'Deacon Solomon Rising.' said the questioner, 'do you think Mr. Hitchcock is a dishonest man?' (Very promptly,) 'Oh, no, sir not by any means.' •Well, do you think he is a meau man?' 'Well with regard to that,' said the Deacon, a little more deliberately, *1 may say tbat I don't really think he is mean man I've sometimes thought the was what you might call a keerful man —a prudent man so to speak.' 'What do you mean by a prudent man?' •Weil, I mean this: that one time he had an execution for f4 against tbe old Widder Witter back here, and he went up to her bouse and levied on a flock of ducks, and he chased the in ducks, one at a time, round the house pooty much all day, and every time he catched a duck be'd set light down and ring its neck, and charge mileage an' his mi!e age amounted to more than the deb'. Nothin' mean about it as I know of, but I always'thought, after that, Mr. Hitckcock was a very prudent man.'

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Mai berry Street, Corner Nistb, TERRE HAUTE, IND.

WHOOPING COUGH. S oT.

Whooping Uoofh Specific carts this disessc In one week's urwe. If used generally. will save tbe lives of hmdnds. Do not I* your child die of whooping eongh when one botUeof this Bpeeille will core it. It moderate* ail the severer symptoms within tb# first tw«nty- oar boors. For sale by OOLICK

Buutr and Btnmx A*WTTJMK«O, Terre Haute, lnd.

SEWING

MACHINES

BBPAIBID AIB ADJUSTED In Ute verr best manner and warranted W wsrkT by JOSEPH FOLK, No. *B Mail street, north side, between 3rd and 4U streets.op stairs. Don't condemn your chine until Mr. FOLK bsa bad a look at i» for tbe real trouble may be yerv light ant tne eostof repairing a mere trifle. The bee needles and oil constantly on hand.

JaaeU-ti

DK.PIKIUEV .STANDARD

other basis than that of merit,

."i

REMEDIES

Are not advertised aa "cure allR," but ure-

Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy

Is Pleasant to (Jse.

Dr. Si age's Cat ar li Keni ed

Its Cures extend over a period of

Dr. age's Catarrh Ifieniecfy

Cures by its Mild, Soothing litl'cct.

Dr. Mage's Catarrh Kennedy

Cures "Cold.iu Head" and Catarrh, or Ozoena.

AN OPEN LETTER.

fr?

hpeeitics in he deceases lor which they are recommended. 1 NATI RAL SiL LEC TION. S

Investigators of natural f-cienee have demonstrated beyond controversy, that. throughout tbe animal ktogdomthe "sur* I vivnl of the fittest' is the only Jaw that vouchsafes thrift and perpetuity. Dots not tbe »anieprinciple govern tho commercial prosperity «f man? An iuferior cannot supersede a superior article. By reason of superior merit, Dr Pierce's Standard Medicines have outrivaled all others. Their sale in the United States alone exceeds one million dollars perannuiu, while the amount. exported foots up to several hundred thousand more. No business could grow to such gigantic proportions ann rest upon nny

years.

Dr. Sage's Catarrh K« mtcly

its sale constantly Increases.

SPEAKS FOB 1TSKU?.

ROCKPOKT^MBSS., April 2,1877.

MR. EDITOR:—Havingread in your paper reports uf the remar« able cures of catarrh, 1 am induced to tell "waat I kuow about catarrh, and 1 fancy the "snutt a "in-haling-tube" makers (mere dollar grabbers) would be glad if the* could on.blazon H, similar cum in the paper I yours 1 sutfered with oa nrih. tie :t a ...is.s«ges became completely closed •nnuV^-dust," "aslies," inhaling tubes," „\nd "sticks," wouldn't work, though at iutt rvals I would snitf up the so calleu catanh snuff, until I became a valuable tester for Mich medines. I gradual grew worse, and no one can know how much I suffered or what a. miserable being I was. My lit ad nched over my eyes so that was contincd to my bed for many successive days, .suffering tho most intense pain, which atone time lasted continuously for 108 hours. All st-ns-e of smell and taste gone, sight and hcarlug Impaired, body shrunken and wiakeued, nervous system shattered, aud constitution broken, and I wa hawking and spitting teven eighlsof the time. 1 prayed for death to relieve me of mysutTertng, A favorable notice in jour paper oi Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy induceu me to purchase a package and use it with Dr. Pierce's Kaal jUouche, which applies the remedy by hydrostatic pressure, the only way compatible with commou stnse. Well, Mr. Junior, it did not cure me in three-fourths of a second, nor in one hour or month, but lu less thau eight minutes I was relieved, ai.d in three months ntirely cured, and have ron ained so for ®ver six ecu months. While using the Catarrh Hemmed, I used Dr. PI ice's Golden Medical Discovery to purity my blood and strengthen my stomach. 1 also kept my liver active and my bowels regular by tho use of his Pleasant Purgative P. llets. If myexperlence will Induceoilur sufferers to seek tne same means of relief, this letter will have answeixu its puinosc.

Yours truly, 8. t. KEMIt'K.

A CLOIII) OF WITXEtfSKW.

The following named parties arc among the trhousanus who have bci-n cured of catarrh !y the use of Dr. .Sage's Ctuarrh Htiuedy:

A. F. Downs. New Geneva, a D. J. Brown. St. Jose( h, Mo EC Lewis, liutinnd, Vt Levi Sprluger. Nettle Luke, Charles Norcrop, North Chesterfield, Me Milton Jones, Scrlba, N Y' r. Miller,

I Ma-

tion, Wyo JCMerrlmac, I.oaaiiN jt.ii. Intl Post, LoKnnsport, I ml bill u-,\, Treiuont. ira 11 Ajrcs, La l'orlo, lnd Jesse Sours, Fort hrauch. lnd Williams, Canton. Mo \V A Tliayt-r, Onn:-gft, 111 SB Nichols, Jr, GalvesU-n, Tex aHeinert, Stonesville, Pa 8 W Limk, McKarland, Wis Johnson Williams, Ilelmic, O Mis. M. A. urrey, Trenton, Tenn Joslin, Keene, N A Casper, Table Kvck, W Va Louis Anders, Gaysport, Ohio 11 Chase, Elkhart, lnd Mrs Henry Halglit, Han Francisco, Cal Mrs Gallush, Lawrencevlilt, NY W J. Graham. Adel, Iowa A O Smith, Newmau, On charleti E Hice, Haiti more, Md Jese 8ears, Carlisle, lnd Daniel Miller, Fort Wayne, lnd Mrs Minnie Arnaise, 200 Delancy street, New Yoik W Hall, Hastings, Mich Win Marsion, Lowell, Moss 1 W Roberts. Maricopa, Ariz Charles 8 Delaney, llarrisburg, Pa 8 Cole, Lewell, Mass Mrs 8purlin, Camden, Ala has Raw. Fredrick own, Ohio Mrs Lucy Hunter, Farmlngton, HI Capt gpauldlng, Camp 8tambaugh, Wyo I W Tracy, Steamboat Rock, Iowa Mrs Lydia W ai e, Bhusban, N Peck, Junction City, Mont Henry hue Bant as, Cal L. Cumn lng«, Itantoul, ill 8. U. Jones, Charleston tour Corners, JN Geo

Hall. eueblo.Col WinE Harm.Sterling, Pa II Ebov, 918 Penu street, Pittsburgh, Pa Jackmftn, Samuel's Depot, Ky Henry Zobrlst, Geneva, JN Y: Miss Hattie Parrott, Montgomery, uhlo L. Led brook,

Chatham, 111 8 McCoy, ashport, Ohio W W Warner, North Jackson, Mien Miss Mary A Wlnne, Daiien, W is John 7A gler, Carlisle Springs, Pa James Tompkins, Ht Cloud. Minn fenoch Duer. I'awnee lty, Neb Joseph T. Miller, Xenia, Ohio 8 is. Nichols, Ga veston, jexat- Laird, Upper Alton, 111 Johu Davis. Pre*cott, Ariz Mrs Nancy Graham, Forest Cove, Oreg.

Goldeil Medical DI«co*ery

Is Alterative, or Bloo.l-c!eauslDg.

Golden Medical Discovery

Golden JHediral Dlscov* ry

Is Tonic.

(iolilrii Jled'eal Discovery

By reason of its Alterative properties, cures Diseases of the Blood au»i tskln, as Scrofula,orKiagVEvil tumors Ulcers,or Old Sores Blotches Pimples, aud Eruptions. By virtue of its Pectoral properties, cures Bronchlsl, Throat and Lang AtTeotit ns: ncluient onsumptlon Lingering Coagns,snd Chronic l-sryngiiis ItsChola-, gogue properties render It an unequalled remedy for Biliousness Torpid Livtr, or "Liver Complaint ami its Tonic propertie* make It equally efflcaclou* in curing Indigestion, Los* of Appetite, and *. yspepsla. ..

Where the skin sallow aad covered with blotches and pimples, or where there are scroffaleu* swellings and affections, a few bottles of Golden Medical Discovey will effeet an entire cure. If yon feel doll, drowsy, debilitated, have sallow color of skin, or yellowish-brown spots en face or body, frequent hea ache or dizziness, bad taste in tne month, Internal beat or chills alternated with hot flushes, low spirits and gloomy forebodings, lrregplrr appetite, and tongue coated, yon are suffering from Torpid1' lAner, or "BUunumeu." in uany eases of„ "lAter Complaint,"omr part ef these symptoms are txperlenoea. As a remedy for all sacb cases, Dr. Pierce's Gulden Medical Discovery has no equal it effects perfect cures, leaving the liver strengthened and healthy.

Tke People'* Hedleal lervut.

Dr. R. V. Plen* is tbe sole proprietor and manufacturer of tbe foregoing remedies, all of which are sold by diuggisui. He Is also the author ef the People's Common Sense Medical Adviser, a work of nearly one,' thousand pages, witb two hundred and

eighty-two

Is Pectoral. &

"'••A- i' |§k

Golden Medical Di covery

IsaCholagogae, or Liver Stimulants

wood-engravings and ooiored

plates. He b#s already* work

aoldof this popular

Over 100,000 Copies!

PBICK (H*T L»M) ILM.

Address: R. V. PIERCE, M. D., World* Dispensary, Buffalo, V. Y.