Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 43, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 April 1878 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

PLEASE TAKE IT BACK. Yoa kiwed me at the gate last night, And mother heard the "smack She soys its naughty to do so— 80 pit use take It back. I cannot see what harm there is 111 such a thing, can yoa Bat mother sheens so very wroth, ^Please take It back—now do. *J? 'i" It seems to me quit* natarai

For Hps to meet that way Bat mother says Is 'a very wrong, Be take It back, I pray. And come to think of it, I'm sore

That several times 'twas done 80 now, to make It right, be sure To take back every one. I would not have yoa think It's me,

I do not care a mite But mother's so particular, #f| Please take thern back to-night.

The Family Curse.,,a

A DOMESTIC STORY.

BY JfKS KEBKCCA HAItDISO DAVIS,

Author of "Life in the Iron Mills." "Dallas Ualbraltb," "John Andros, etc.

CHAPTER III.

Mr. Jaqnett hurried to the door to meet his son he appeared nervous and flurried—patted Blander, nnd looked up into the tall young fellow's face with a conciliatory smile, that was somehow piteous. He had pulled out an arm cbalr for him In front of the fire, and heaped a dish with bis prize apples. It was the way in which he used to coax Nalbro and Jackey into good humor, when they were two affectionate, voracious, fighting little cubs. Even in the face of the looming dangers, through -which the boy muht make bis own way, the old man could not realize that he was not yet a child, and that life could no longer be made savory for him by a toothsome morsel.

Nalbro took in the little bints of preparation at a glance noted, too, the prayer book, hurriedly laid aside at his own knock, on the mantel shelf. 'Whatis it you have to tell ine, father?' be said very gravely, sitting down. He put the thought of Jenny and his own future hastily away. Here was some immediate practical trouble to be met. The home lost and—debt. Could there be debt? 'I wanted to see you, Nalbro a little talk—by ourselves—quietly—a mere trifle. Thank you, my son, the cbalr is qufte comfortable.' He coughed, adjusted his spectacles, taking out a small bundle of papers, and shifting them uneasily. 'Whatever's wrong, father, we'll soon set right, please God,' seeing how difficult it was for him to find words. •Nothing is wrong,' hastily. 'Understand me in the beginning, nothing is now wrong. It is only a few facts, which I want to talk over with you. Old stories—family stories—that you dislike so much, Noli. They arej painful, and I have nover mentioned them to you. But it seems right to me that I should do so now—just mention. You will see my drift at once. I need not dwell on the details.'

There was more here than met the eye. Nalbro's countenance began to steady and settle, as it did when be bad a problem ready for working, like a setter's, who sees his game clear before him. •There la no crime in the family history to be unearthed, is thore?' 'No it never went so far, thank God. It's an old story, A common one too common for us to see how terrible it is. Here, turn your chair, my son just look over these photographs. They will show you what 1 moan, better than words can do.' ,f 'Whoare these men?' 'They arei Tembrokes, all of them— your mother's uncles and brothers. Hester clung very closely to her own people. She was fond of gathering their like'noisos, and storing them away to look over now and then. She has written the names on each, you see."

Sho had written the names by which she knew them—the 'Goordie,' 'Will,' and 'Charley' of her youth not the names by which they were known in business among other men. Nalbro ©agorly drew the lamp closer. Nothing haa ever brought bis unknown mother so near to him as this first sight of the brothers who had slept in the same cradle with her, and been her only companions through overy day of her childhood. He had but one dim remembrance of seeing her it was as sho had stooped over his crib one night to tuok him •warmly in ho remembered her peculiarly sincere haasa! eyos and wide laughing mouth he had never seen their like since, but he thought ho found them again now in each of these bearded or close shaven faces. It was a curious friendliness and kinship, therefore, with which they greeted him through this familiar vet strange book. •I am glad to have seen these. I did pot even know my mother had brothers,' looking at one after the other with a keen scrutiny.

think it is a race of

whom one might bo proud, father,' glancing up. 'There is a strong likeness in them all. I never saw a finer type of the physical man.' •You have the Tetubroke build, Nalbro,' aald Mr. Jaquett In a constrained tone. 'They were remarkable for their superb health. You inherit your mother's organUitlon—altogether.' •I'm glad of it,' warmly. 'These men, loo, had brains us strong as their bodies, or I'm much mistaken. Clear eyed, warm hearted follows, I suspect! They were masters by nature and they made their mark, whatever their profession or trade? Eh, father?'

Mr. Jaquett looked from the photographs to his son's inquiring face. The likeness never had appeared to him so strong. lie did not answer for a moment, and then reluctantly: "Strongbrained? Oh! yes brilliant and witty, usually. There were few alow going, plodding men among the Tembrokes, And generous to the core. Hoats of friends and followers, always. They had that strong personal magnetism which belonged to such men as tie English smarts or to Henry Clay. But they never made their mark. They were un« succeesftil, ftom the first to the last.' •Why?'

MrTjaquett tamed away to trim the lamp. His plain*) face lost Its artor, and he avoided his sou's eve guiltily. The warning he had to give wrenched hU heart no leas Iwcsuae he had deferred it for twentv years. Nalbro began to guess at the secret hidden under this long preamble. Was be to read his own fate torcabadowed In this galleryof dead faces, and be warned by it? He would have laughed aloud, but that he saw thai his miter was so deeply moved. What had these dead Tembrokes, whose bodies were dust, and whose souls long ago had gone to their reckoning, to do with hitnr 'Well, father?' he said, cheerfully. •They were unsoocessml men. I dont

SSilS

mean by that that they did not sometimes do much good to others, or amass money, or acquire fame. Tney held high positions in Maryland since Colonial days but, sooner or later, they all slipped Into the same miserable groove, and made alike end of it. It seemed to be a race with them, one after tbe other, to see which could soonest corrupt and destroy both body and mind.' •By drink?' •Yes I do not know how far back that curse came on them. There are terrible old stories, faded out and balf forgotten. The first Tembroko of whom I knew anything personally was an opium eat er, a little, withered old man, with a livid, bluish skin, and glassy, fishy eyes, whom I used to see on his grandson's estate, like a living death, walking walking, by day or night weak and ready to fall, but with some devil gnawing at bis spinal cord, that would not let him rest. His grandson George was your mother's father, Colonel Tembroke.' „, 'Who was In the war of 1812? I know,' his eyes kindling. 'He was a hero of the old school, from all I've heard of him. That breed of men is extinct, more's ih« pity!' 'He died a common sot by the wayside.' ,,

Nalbro's countenance changed for tbe first time.

'And

these?' touching hasti

ly the faces of tbe men who had just welcomed him as one of themselves. •Your mother's brothers taking up the pictures reluctantly. 'I'll tell you about them, Nalbro. It was for that I sent for you to-night.' Still he hesitated. The little clergyman had not always bad gray hair nor worn a white neckcloth. There had bean a time (it seemed not farther off than yesterday) when be was tbe lightest dancer in the Maryland conntry bouses, and brought home tbe fox's brush many a morning before breakfast.

These dead Tembrokes were his chums then it was their wine be drank at night, and their horses on which he followed tbe bounds. It seemed to bis womanish sympathy a brutal thing to uncqver their faults now for any purpose, however sacred. 'It's right, I suppose, to tell you, Nalbro. Their father left these'boys penniless, with their mother and Hestfr to support. There never were a finer blooded set of men. They batnl work, but they did work, like any Yankees, for the

Bake

of the two women. It grew

to be the most comfortable and jolliest house on the eastern shore, full of plenty and fun the year round. It was curious to see these great, sturdy men stick so close, and swear by each other as they did, and looking up to their mother, too, as though they were yet boys.' 'Did they drink?' 'No there was wine always on the table, of course, and brandy and liquors on tbo sideboard for guests. That was a rule in those days. They were nsed in public religious conventions, as water would be now. But these men had taken the pain and disgrace of their father's dea^i so much to heart, that they had an antipathy for liquor, which appeared like to an idiosyncrasy, so .common was its use. Until George was a man of your age, he rarely did more than moisten his lips when the toasts were going round.' •Well, and theu?' 'Then he began to drink. Without any apparent immediate reason or any temptation, suddenly, to drink to excess. He was the second son, younger than Will, a merry, affectionate fellow. It ended—tbe old way and very rapidly with George. I think the shame and horror drove him on, headlong, after he had once begun. Ho was anxious to end it.' 'I have but little patience with such weakness/interrupted tbe young man, sternly. He would have liked, if he dared, to rebuke the sympathy which his father showed. 'If a man is not enough a man to bold his lowest appetite in check, the sooner he is out of the world, the better.' 'You are severe, my son.' But inwardly he felt a keen thrill of pleasure. Nalbro was strong in a different fashion from these men, tbe Tembrokes. Temptation would fall easily away from him. 'After George's death,' he went on, his mother began to show her age. She was a woman who had few Ideas out side of her ohildren and her home. The house was quieter there seemed to be a shadow in it until Will married bis wi!« was a cheerful little body, that would drive any shadow away. Will was very fond of her. He was a middle aged, cool, thoughtful fellow, with a bull dog persistence about him that showed itself whenever he took hold of a plan. You are very like him in that, Nalbro.'

Nalbro gave a contemptuous growl, and shifted the position of bis legs. He bad suddenly lost his keen desire .to find kinship with theso people.

Just after Will's child was born, I discovered a curious circumstance about him—that every month or two be disappeared, and was gone for about a week, coming back haggard and ill. I followed htm—it was Hester trho asked me to do it, I found that he was in the habit of olng over into Virginia, where they ada sheep farm, and in the stables ho used to hide himself and drink—drink there for days, without let or hindrance.' •Alone?' 'Yes except, for the black overseer who kept him alive when he was too far gone to be able to help himself. He would take the stimulant from him then until he was fit to go borne.' •Alone?—without any temptation of company or good fellowship!' Nalbro got up and began t*» pace up and down the room, his face flushed. 'It was the blood of brutes that ran in the veins of man like that! You say that it wss my family—that 1 resemble them?' 'You are harsh In your judgment of William Tembroke,' said Mr. Jaquett hastily. 'You have never felt his taint of madness. But he was my chum at college, and a more honest, juster man never began life, or one with nobler purposes. When he wss dead, no other sin could be laid to bis charge than that he was his own enemy.' 'I can understand how a man can be driven to liquor by misery at hone,' insisted Nalbro, as though his father had not spoken, 'or be led on by tbe excitement of society bat to leave his wife and new born child to shut himself np and wallow like a bog in his own beastliness—I can find no charity for that. It Is the act of a brats.' 'I dont know,' said Father Jaquett. •Torabroks's intellect was of a far better order than mine yet I don't think that

I shauld hare yielded. I never found any trouble In abstaining from excess In my young*** days—indeed, I do not think the taste of liquor is pleasant usually.' •He died. I hope?' •Yea. The ovaxaeer left him too long In one of these boats before Interfering. When he tried to bring bade the soul to the drunken body, it would not come. Bis wife and mother never knew what It wan that killed him. Hot I did. I told Charley.'

Nalbro took up one of the pictures—a frank, boyish, finely eat feco. 'This is Charley?' he in he S loved him best of all. One of tbese mother boys—as pore and generous ass

rERRE HAl'TK SATURDAY EVENING MAIL

girl. Will's wife went home to her people, and Hester married me in the spring. His mother bsd nobody bat Charley. I told him Will's story I was sorry that I did, -his shame and wrath were so great. He was as implacable as yoa are against his brother. "It is mother I think of," be said. She came before all the world with him. It was atrange to see how utterly he gave himself np to making her last few years happy—as popular, gay a young fellow as he was, coo for there was nobody in all the country side of whom the people were so proud ss of Charley Tembroke. A good fighter, fell of pluck yet a child or a woman could do what tney pleased with him, and be woald believe any tale with whit-la a beggar chose to wheedle him. His mother died the year you were born.' He stopped suddenly. 'Well, what became of him?'

Mr. Jaquett gathered up tbe photographs slowly lie began to speak once, hut cleared his throat hoarsely. 'I will tell you tbe rest of this story snother time,' be said, after a while. 'I did not think tbese old matters would be so painful to me. But Charley always came nearer to me, after Hester, than any one else.' 'You do not mean that he went the same road as the others

Mr. Jaquett nodded without speaking and turned an ay so that Nalbro could not see his face. He wai silent for a while. The young inau began bis wslk again up and down tbe room. 'You remember a man, Nalbro, who came to tbe house oue winter's night, a week after your mother died—a seemingly old man, in a miserable thin coat, with a pale, bloated faoe, and bleared eyes?' 'I remember.' •That was Charley. He wanted you to come to him, but you were afraid. ''The children used te be fond of me," he said, in a weak, babbling whine, that it cut me to tbe quiok to hear from him. Tbe next morning he came to me—he was sober. "J[ wish the boy would shake hands. He is Hester's son," he said. But you were obstinate and would not. He was silent for a while, looking at you. 'Jaquett,' he said to me, 'for God's sake, keep him out of the pit. Tell birfi, when be is a man, from iue, that he is a Tembroke, and that wheu he has ouce tasted the accursed thing, there is no going back—no going back.' 'Why did you not keep him 'I did. I tried to force him to leave it off. "Do you think I have not tried he said quietly. "I've turned my back on the woman I loved, I have made myself the beggar I am te-day, for diink. Dp you think these things cost me nothing I see the man I have been, and that I might be again. But I can't atop! When I have tasted one glass, there's a devil within me that will not be still until I have had more—more!" He would not stay in the bouse but he lingered in tbe neighborhood, and would come stealing back to the place to watch you and Jackey at your play, though he never spoke to you again. One day he said "I am going now. If you think it would help to save Hester's son, tell him of Charley Tembroke, and the end he made of it and tell him there is no going back." I never saw him again. He died soon after.' 'How?' 'I would rather not talk of that, Nalbro,' said Mr. Jaquett, with a charge of tone. He added after a while: 'You are a man now. I have given you his message.' 'Yes. I understand now why you exacted from me the promise long ago never to taste liquor, nor even touch tobacco in any shape. You think I am peculiarly vulnerable to tbe effects of stimulants?' 'I would not like to go so far as that, dear boy,' said the*ola man. 'But the Tembrokes have been tempted in this way, and have so often yielded—' •Ishculd not yield, sir!' vehemently. 'You need not have taken such precautions. These men were so deat to yon and my mother that you are blinded to their criminal weakness. I am not.' 'I know how strong you are, Nalbro,' hesitatingly. 'No,I'm not strong but a man who can sacrifice wife snd child and his manhood—his manhood'—he stopped a moment on the word—'sacrifice it all for the trickling of a stream of liquid down his throat, is made of other stuff from me, thank God!' 'I sm glad you feel so secure, my son,' faltered Father Jaquett. He felt vaguely that in some way he had lost bis ground. Tbe message had missed its aim, be knew not how. All his years of care and prayerful watchfulness had been unneeded. then? Yet why was he 111 at ease What could be better than this proud security? 'God chose that way to tempt them, I suppose—or Satan, I moan,' he said, after a pause. 'Well, temptation must come In other shapes to vanquish me,' said young Jaquett, with a scornful laugh. 'Believe me In this, father,' putting his big bands heavily on tbe old man's shoulders, and looking him straight in the eyes. 'Trust me altogether, will yon I'd like to drink this "accursed thing" to-morrow, to show you that it has no power over me,' 'My son 1 you promised—' 'I ki

enow. Don't turn so white, I'll keep my promise I kept it when I did not know your reason for asking it, and supposed it only a whim. I never have tasted a drop or liquor—even out on the prairies, when the soberest men took it as medicine.' 'You understand the reason now, Nalbro—I wish it impressed you more,' anxiously. 'You are tbe first male Tembroke whom ruin and death has not met in this beastly shape. It seems, as some one suggests, like an actual demon, dogging them from generation to generation.'

Nalbro bnrst into a hearty laugh. 'Demons and witchcraft went oat of the world together, sir. It is rather a carious coincidence that so many of one family shoald become drunken sots, but hardly so strange that we need go to tbe spirit world for a solution of it.' 'How do you account for it then, my son? Do you think God gave them that particular temptation? I have thought it over sometimes, and argued it until my brain was ready to turn.'

Nalbro listened with tbe good-humor-ed patience with which a young man of the present day hears the morbid fancies of the generation gone before him. You sea, fewer,' in a reasoning, ostentatiously calm tone, 'it is hardly common-esnse

ting

All men are'tempted by their appetites or desires, and the Tembrokes being weaker than other men, yielded. They were weak. That is tbe rational way of aocaunUng for the whole matter.' •Tbay always seemed strong to feebly reiterated Mr. Jaquett. 'A then you see tendencies to different kinds of vice cropping oat in other families. Thare are tbeDorus what bullies

you.' •You might venture farther than that ab6ut them

to rid you of any morbid doubt about me. But you have no doubt about me?' 'No, dear boy.' Mr. Jaquett looked up smiling at the young fellow beside him, and then a sudden change came to bim. He caught Nalbro by tbe wrist. He never bal seemed so feeble to his son or his hair so white as in that moment's pause. There seemed to be the distance of a whole lifetime between them—apparent to the boy for the first time. 'Nalbro! Nalbro!' 'What is it, father 'If you shoald go with the others!' 'Have you no confidence in me He did not speak with confidence, for he saw that bis father's eyes were wet, and these tears in the old man's eyes hurt bim as nothing else had ever done. 'You forget how strong I am for your sake, father,' be repeated. 'I know. But if you should go with the others!'

If he should go with the others This unreasonable persistence in the old idea had a curious effect on Nalbro'Jaquett it was as if for a moment be felt a cold band dragaifj Him down the fatal slope to ruin. What if, in fact, there were some seen «uso for these men's madness which iH bsd not penetrated? It was their bl. 'Mat ran in his veins. But only for am .«nt the shadow bad power over him. He was perfectly secure of bis own strength, and he knew how to comfort his father. 'I think, sir, you have prayed for me every day since I was born. Do you think God' would be deaf to your prayers, and drag me to ruin against my will? That is simply what it means when you say there is no hope for a Tembroke.'

There was a moment's silence. 'I deserve the rebuke,' humbly. 'I think he has beard our prayers. I do not believe he would suffer you to go from—your mother and me, Nalbro.' He went to the mantel shelf and took up bis old brown prayor book hastily, as a sailor might grasp at his rudder, in dangerous breakers. 'Shall we have worship now, my son?' 'Yes, sir, it's late.' Nalbro rung tbe bell for Jackey, and leaned back, crossing bis legs, prepared to listen. He was no more devout than other young fellows. Tbe familiar service was like a solemn lullaby to bim, with now and then a mordant word and meaning that twinged his conscience with a rather pleasant titillation. It amused and pleased him to see the transient shadow of age and trouble slide off from his father a) he read. His fat little figure settled itself comfortably, his voice grew mellow again, his face ruddy it was tbe sap and fresh juices coming back to half withered fruit. Nalbro wondered lazily how such mysterious cordial for the soul could be expressed from the backneved words of the old brown book. When his own hair would bo gray, be would need it, perhaps. Then, while be threw in a bit of bsss to 'Peace, troubled soul,' be remembered a dose for Nicey to be given in the morning, and listened to Yaughan's retreating footsteps outside, and so swung back to tbe usual thoughts —Jenny, and tbe machine, and bis own work.

He had need to work hard for tbe next half dozen years. He meant to carry the whole of their loads on his shoulders. As for the old Tembroke legends or the words of the brown book, what had he to do with them?

CHAPTER IV.

'Of course, my daughter, I do not wish to force your inclination.' 'No, mamma,'said Jenny. •Though you should be guided by advice.' .4 „w

•Yes, mamma.' Mrs. Cortrell, who had come up to Jenny's room for a battle, did not relish this inglorious viotory. 'Certainly I, with fifty years' experience, should be better able to choose tbe proper man for you to marry, than you, with eighteen,' sharply. She meant to probe this soft lump of compliance to the bottom. She mistrusted it. 'You mean to choose the man whom I should love?' half whispered Jenny, the pink rising in her cheek. 'I mean nothing of the kind!' sniffed Mrs. Cortrell. 'I suppose no modest girl wou'ld love any man until be bad asked her in marriage. I don't think love is a proper subject for you to discuss, Jane. Wo will dismiss that, if you please.' •Yes, mamma. How many of these bibs for Susy shall I make, do you think?' 'I did not come here to discuss Susy's bibs—don't be trifling I came to consider your future. I wish to point out to you Mr. Yaughan's superiority to any of the young men of the neighborhood. They are country bred. He is worthy of any woman's affection, in my poor opinion.' 'But what is that to me?' said Jenny, raising her dove like eyes. has not asked me In marriage.' •N—no. Don't turn my own words on me. You are too much of a parrot often in your conversation. It is weak. Now, when Jacqueline talks, she says something.'

Jenny laughed good humoredly. 'I'll try to reform, mamma,' she said. Mrs. Cortrell regarded her daughter intently. Jenny sat before the window on a rocking chair, swinging to and fro gently, as she sewed—the pleasant afternoon light falling softly on her slight figure, on tbe loose masses of fine, golden hair, and large, mild eyes. The very afternoon light seemed to linger on her, as if here was the most impressible, soft, sweetest thing alive that summer day— the very type of woman whom all men, from Adam down, would have found if they could, and bad to wife, to make of bar what they pleased. But Mrs. Cortrell looked at her discontented, ber brows knit, and ber mouth shat tight. She bad old experience of tbis baffling pliability and good temper of this sunshiny creature. It was exhausting to force her into a given mould as a heap of airy soft feathers. •I wish you bsd more character, my child,' ahe sighed, 'I could better know how to manage yon.'

Jenny looked at her mother astonished. Up came tbe ready blush and a sincere trouble to ber eyes. *1 wish I oould please you, mamma I'm sure I wish to please you all. •Yea, well, I can easily mak* it plain to you bow you are to please me.' Airs. Cortrell had risen and was holding the back of tbe chair with both hands. 'You will not suffer yourself to become further entangled with that fellow at tbe Jaquett farm.' 'You mean Nalbro?' doubling down ber bem. *Wbo else should I mean? It has gone on long enough.' ,, •Yea, Nalbro and I have been friends a good many years,' replied Jenny. 'TOT called me

hi*

with his soul in pistons and valves has naturally low tendencies. The Tembrokes all were gentlemen. He has proved to be a failure.'

Jenny made no reply: She stitched on, attentive to tbe straigbtness of her hem her white forehead as placid, her dewy lips as ready to smile, her violet eyes as innocent of discomfort, as though her mother had been discussing tbe failure of the turnip crop, iustead of her lover. •This is a serious matter, my daughter —a matter of life and death, perhaps, to poor Nalbro. But that is not our concern. It is my duty to keep you out of danger.'

Jenny pat down her work and listened, her eyes lazily turned away from the speaker, as usual. 'I am glad you are not more affected by this ill news about Nalbro. I was afraid that you might have become—interested in the young man, Jenny. As a friend—of course in no other way. You need not ask me any questions about this matter it is useless.'

Now, Jenny Cortrell had probably never asked a question of ber mother in ber life—perhaps from want of curiosity —perhaps from knowledge of its uselessness. Mrs. Cortrell. at the first approach always shut herself up with her last gained secret as fast as a clam in its shell. •I am sorry that Nalbro Jaquett is in danger,' Jenny said calmly. 'He is a very pleasant young man. What is it you want me to promise, mamma?'

Mrs. Cortrell stopped to choose her words. •I wish you to say that you will form no engagement with him for the space of a year. That you will not suffer yourself to be tempted by any appeal, or any need of his, to bold out a helping hand to bim.' 'But why do you come to me to say all this? What is Nalbro Jaquett to me? You speak as if I had bis fato in my keeping.' 'You know best what he is to you, Jenny.'

If Mrs. Cortrell had hoped to surprise her daughter's secret by this sudden coup, she was foiled entirely. Jenny's cheek was unusually guiltless now of a blush. 'Granted that I had an influence over him, and we have been frlbnds so long, it might be possible what would you have me do, now that he is, as you say, in danger?' 'Draw away from bim keep yourself clear of his danger. If, by giving him your love, you believed you could save him from death itself, I wish you to promise me to withhold it from him. For a year.' 'After that, mamma?'

Mrs. Cortrell laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh. 'After that I have no fear of you. Nalbto Jaquett will not loig be a man with whom you would care to meddle, in friendship or love.'

Jenny looked straight at her mother 'For a year? I am willing to promise you so much, mamma,' she said, the beautiful eyes resting on her face a moment. In that moment she determined in her peculiar, soft way, to know the whole of her meaning before night came and was convinced further that she could never obtain it from ber mother. •I'm satisfied, Jenny.' Mrs. Cortrell betrayed tbat sno was as surprised as pleased with this prompt acquiescence. 'You never failed to keep your word, Jenny.' 'No. For a year, you said? I hope,' carelessly threading her needle. 'Mr. Vaughan is not bimself implicated in Nalbro's danger?' 'On the contrary—who spoke of Mr. Vaughan?' tbe blood rushing to her lean faca and'neck. 'I did not mentiou him. What connection has be with„ t,he matter?' •Ho is Nalbro's partner.' 'William Vaughan is the capitalist. But the concern, after all, is a mere nothing. It can do bim no barm if Nalbro chooses to make a brute instead of a man of himself.' 'Except through tbe failure of the patent,' said Jenny. Her work dropped wearily on ber lap, and fhe began to fold it up slowly. 'What nonsense! Jaquett haBno patent for his invention. Patent, Indeed! 1 wonder you can have patience with a full grown man spending his time over such pitiful knick-knackery. That sue has been too hot for you, Jane. There's hollows under your eyes. Let me feel your pulse, child.'

Mrs. Cortrell's voice grew unsteady at tbe first alarm. 'Skin botand dry. You must have a pack, at once. And aconite—aconite and bella-donna. Open your mouth,

She whipped a morocco, pistol shaped case out of her pocket, extracted from it some white pellets, and discharged them into Jane's mouth with wonderful celerity. •Six. Alternate with pulsatllla, in halt an hour. There! Potatoes, without butter, for dinner. A pack at seven tbis evening, if cot relieved. Put tbat sewing by. dear child don't fag yourself.'

She darkened the windows and went down to the kitchen, to scold tbe women who were washing. It relieved her. She was always anxious, and miserable, and doubly snappish when ber husband or Jane were ill. These two people were a part of herself, and she kept all ber tenderness, as ber husband dia tbe muck from his barnyard, to fertilize her own ground. She would no more have wasted It on neighbors or servants than he would have gone out to manure the high road.

She went out to him now, back of tbe sheepfold, where be was selling the butcher a calf. •Stop tbet noise among tbo beasts, Cortrell. Jane's qualmy. Your bellowing and tbe cow's together are enough to split one's head.'

Cortrell, who was shoving the calf by main force through the gate, stopped short. •What ails Puss?' he said, as gently as Jenny would have done. •It's ber liver, most likely. I saw she was poorly enough. I wss talking to her a bit.' •Ob! Well, good day, Arrisqn. That's as fair apiece of veal as you've had this summer. You were talking to Jaae a

bit,

little wife when I

waa a baby.' Mrs. Cortrell sounded this before replying. But there was no latent meaning la it. There never were latent meapIngs in what Jenny said. 'I've bad reason to alter my opinion of him.' •Lately?' •Yea, within a week. He was Hester Tembroke's son, and I encouraged hie intimacy in thia bouse, I waa very fond of Hester. But I always suspected Nalbro would not torn out well. A fellow

wife, eh?' abutting tbe gate as tbe batcher's cart drove off. 'About tbe Jaquett will, I'll wsger?' •I'm hardly such a fool but I warned ber. Those pigs would be carried if I were in charge here,' glancing about the barnyard for a parting snap as benediction. 'And I'd tether tbat colt If ^were you. Colonel.' 'You understand tethering your own oolt so well, beyT chuckled the Colonel aa he looked alter bar, ber skirts gather* •ed up, from her thin ankles, picking bet steps through the miry field.

A few mlnates afterward, Jenny heard ilongad whistle below ber window, wss folding the last of the blue cbeck apronsand

frocks

of living women, one might have fended that ahe had sometimes an obstinate

Eleasure

in becoming a sort of stolid,

uman grindstone on which her mother and Jackey could whet their tongues and temper.

When she heard the whistle she droped the blue bib and ran to the window. Jer father's red fece appeared over the garden wall, nodding and laughing. •Come out of that. Puss come down,' he 1 called, in a sort of roar of a whisper, his hands up, like a trumpet.

Jenny had her Shaker bonnet on, and was down like a flash. There are queer sympathies in blood. She kindled always, out of what Jackey called her washed out ftate, into a live woman when near tbe jolly farmer, with his rough jokes and cavalry boots, smelling strong of tbe cowyard. When they had reached the out buildings, and he had perched her on a beam of the cider press there was a curious, subtle likeness be* tween this creature, delicate and frail as the Lorelei, and the uncouth old fellow smoking aad lounging beside her.

He pushed back her bonnet, so that he could give her a fond glance now and then, while he kept watch over the haymakers in the field beyond. 'You don't look rugged, that's a fact, Jen,' he said 'I thought a sniff of the clover and pawpaw bushes would be more strengthenin' tbsn packs or nagging in thar. Hi, hi, Jem! I've my eye on you. Keep stroke, you darkeys thar. The lazy louts, they haven't done a quarter of a day's work to-day. But it has been so, abominably hot,' lowering bis voice, grayely. 'Hot, I tell you. Yoa ought to nave seen the poor devils lay to their scythes when your mother went by. By George!' chuokllng and shaking all over.

Jenny laughed, and, jumping down, coiled herself up on a rick or bay snugly. Tbe smell of tbe cut clover and tbe hot, fresh sunshine was pleasanter than her dark room, but, thinking of her oomplexion, she pulled on her bonnet again, quite content to shut out tbe bill slopes crowned with tbe tossing, shining pennants of corn, and tbe shivering fields of oats below, through which the wind sent ripnles of white over the Lluisb green, like a miniature sea. •v [TO BH CONTINUED.]

A Wonderful Discovery. For the speedy cure of Consumption, and all diseases that lead to it, such aa stubborn Coughs, neglected Colds Broaohitis, Asthma, pain in the side and chest, dry hacking cough, tlokllng in the throat, diseases of the throat and lungs, DR. KINO'S NEW DISCOVERT has no equal and has established for Itself world wide reputation. Many leading physicians recommend it and use it in their practice. The formula from which it is prepared is hignly recommended by all medical journals. The clergy ana tbe press have complimented it in the most glowing terms. Go to your druggist and get a trial bottle free of cost or a regular size for fl.OO. For sale by Gulick & Berry, Terre HauterInd. (8)

A CARD.

To all who are suffering from the errors and indiscretions of youth, nervous. weakness, early decay, loss of manhood, etc., I will send a recipe that will cure you, FREE OF CHARGE. Tbis great remedy was discovered by a missionary in South America. Send a self-addressed envelope to the REV. JOSEPH T. INMAN, Station D, Bible House, New York City. Oct28-ly

,"C

that layin or

derly piles on ber table. For Jenny, steadily stitching and lastly rocking there by the window through the sommer days, did all the household sewing for white* and blacks. Only when Jackey was present did she resort to the useless, fioJsy netting which so goadad that indastrioas young woman's scoril. If Jenny had not been tbe most amiable

,• Vfc'.vV^i A ,*,-

TARAXINE

Is entirely a Vegetable Compound. Its main ingredient Is the medicinal principle of Dandelion in a chemical solution. It Is no compound of bad whisky, but a medicine. The most delicate person can take It,

....

TARAXINE

Is particularly recommended for Dyspepsia and Indigestion. It acts more perfectly than any medicine ever discovered, on the entire system of the digestive organs. It removes from them all manner of obstructions, (timulates them to natural and vigorous action, tones up and strengthens their nerves, and gives new energy and life to the blood supplying them.

TARAXINE,

By its specific action on the Liver, Is admirably adapted for habitual Constipation or Costiveneas. It never falls to bring the Liver to aetlon. It is particularly recommended to ladies, as it is mild and pleasant in its action.

liM""""

i'O*

TARAXINE

II IB

Shoald be ased in all eases of Qhronlc Ague. It never fells Ur care it. Ders^nga-1 meat of the Liver, Stomach and Bowels Is the chief caase of tbis distressing diseefti, TABAXIN1C, by its action on Liver, 8 tornaeh and Bowels, removes the cause of the disease.

JPor Sale by all Druggists.

A. KIEFER, Prap'r

UDlAHAPOIilS.

Sold at wholesale in Terrs Haute, by GULICK A BEERY, E. H. BINDLEY,

COOK A BELL.