Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 45, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 May 1878 — Page 6

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PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

OBEYING THE COMMANDMENT.

"Love your neighbor as yourself Bo tho parson preaches That'.* one-half the decalogue—

So tin prayer book teaches, Half ray duty I can do With but little labor, For with all my heart aad soul

I do love my neighbor.

Mighty little credit that, To my self-denial Not to love her, though, might bo

Something of a trial. W hy, he rosy light that peeps Through the glass above her Lingers round lips you see

E'en the sunbeams love her. So, to make my merit more, I'll go beyond the letter Love my neighbor as myself

Yes, and ten times better. For she's sweeter than the breath Of the spring that passes Through the fragant, budding woods,

O'er the meadow grasses.

And I've preached the word, I know, For it was my duty To convert the stubborn heart

Of the little beauty, Once again success has crowned 4 Missionary labor, -vv'VFor her sweet eyes own that the

Also loves her neighbor. —George A. Baker, Jr.

'You ought to be more careful, child,' said grandpa, looking at her anxiously.

You've got a bad cold now—enough to put anybody else to bed. And sitting on the steps bare beaded this lately the evening. Come in, ohild, come in.' 'Oh, there ain't much the matter with me now,' said Lute, carelessly coming up on the poroh and seating herself by grandpa. 'I only feel a Tittle hoarse mornings and evenings. I forget what I was talking about. Oh, I rememberabout my dreadful cold. Well, I oould hardly speak above a whisper for a month, and singing was out of the question. You know how I love to sing, grandpa. It soemed to me I never thought of so many beautiful strains of music before in my life as I did then. Tbey used to buzz in my bead till I thought 1 should go crazy. I believe they would have tormented me to death if I hadn't loarned to whiBtlo. I used to go into the attio every day and practioe till I had mastered the art. You don't knot? what a relief it was to me, and is to me yet. I feel quite independent of colds and Miss Lutie stretched out her feet, and leaning her head against the wall, pursed hor red lips in a preparatory way. •If you knew what somebody thinks about your whistling, you wouldu't be so stuck up about it,' observed Ben, with a turnod-up nose expression. It galled tho. spirit of Master Benjamin mightily to have a mere woman excel him in that manly art. 'I bet you'd atop in a Jiffy.' 'Who is that dreadful somebody?' 'Guess.' ft -... '1 won't guess. I don't care to know.' •Yon do oaro. It's Cousin Reuben,' triumphantly. •What did he say demanded Lute, qhickly. 'Oh, I heard him and Dick Spurr talking In his room about you. I)iok said he didn't care how much you whistled whatever you did seemed pretty to him. I'd be ashamed to have Ruy fellow as tmooney about me as Dick Spurr is about you, Lute.' •I don't care if yon would. What did Cousin Reuben Bay 'Oh. he said be thought it was un-tady-like, ill bred, and all that sort of thing. He said lots about it. I'll be bound you'll never whlstlo before him again, Miss Lute.' •I'll be bound I ao,' orled Lute, flushing hotly. 'I don't care two flge what he thinks. I'll begin whistling the minute I see him, and never sUp till be goes away. There!' •Ytfill vou whistle at meals, too?' in-

Sulredlu

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ften, charmed at having pat his ster a rage. 'How will you manage about eating wish to goodness, grandpa, she continued, not noticing Ben's reply, 'you'd never taken him to board with OS.'

lWhv,

*Jf

A Whistling Girl.

'A whistling womau and a crowing hen never come to any good end,' said Ben, prophetically. 'That's the fourth tune you've whistled in the last half boar, Lute.'

Lute first finished the concluding bins of "Kathleen Mavourneen," ana (hen retorted, calmly: 'Thanks, for keeping count. I will begin the fifth as soen as I've regained my breath.' •You can whistle better than any boy ID this town,' said Ben in a grudging way. 'I'd be ashamed to whistle bettern a boy, if I was you.' 'I'm not as easily shamed as yon, Mr. Benjamin. Whatever I do, I like to do well. If I played marbles, I'd try and doit better than anybody else.' 'Well,' replied Bon, with the beautiful candor of boyhood, 'all I can *ay is that I hope yon won't come to a bad end. I shouldn't be surprised any day to see you in the penitentiary or married to some rusty old preacher.' 'Oh, Ben!' said bis Bister, reproachfully, but laughingly, 'aren't you ashamed to pat preaohers and penitentiaries on a paiV 'No, I aren't,' quoth Ben, unabashed. 'I think preachers are the last of peatime. Of the two I'd rather see you in the penitentiary than married to one of them. Grandpa, don't you think it's »wful for girls to whistle?' 'That depends on the way tbey wbis tie,' said grandpa, in his Blow, gentle way. 'If they whistle as well as Lute, why let them whistle. I'd as soon hear her"as a flute.' 'Lute rhymes to flute, you know,' observed Ben, as though that acoounted for the fact. 'I'll tell you how I learned to whistle,' slid Lute, softened by these compliments. 'You know when I. bad that dreadful cold, winter bofore last?' 'You are always Laving dreadful oolds. First thing you know, old lady, you'll go up the spout. You'll rise early some morning, and find yourself a dead corpse, like those fellows in fche Bible.' This cheerful remark proceeded lrom

child, he had to board some

where a

young*man

like him couldn't

keep house. Of coarse I couldn let my nephew's son board any Where else. I did want him to live here without paying any board,* pursued grandpa, in his alow, reflective way, 'but lie would not hear to it.' 'I'd rather have a Hottentot In the house than a doctor. Somebody is always calling him up in the middle of the night and waking the whole house.' 'Luto Farra, you know that is a fib/ •aid Ben, impressively. 'Oouain Reuben has not been called oat twice ia the night «dnoe bo's been here. What If you do got waked up Can't you go to sleep again?'

never could bear doctors,' said Lute, snappish^/. 'U'a tLt finest profession on earth, retorted Ben You don't knovy what yon do like.' 'I like merdbante. •Heaven deliver me frem a counterhopper,' said Ben, piously. 'Before I'd gain my living by skipping

round

store with a yard stick in my hand, Id —I'd dance the tight rope.' Ben seemed to think be was uttering a heroic aeuti ment, and put on hie moet virtuous look. 'I bet I know what you like merchants for.'

Lute's only response was to purse up her lips and elevate her chin. 'It's because Dick Spurr's in a store. What you can see to like in that little Shipper snapper is a mystery to me. His Deard ain't one-tenth as long as Cousin Reuben's*' Ben valued DM acoording to the abundance of their beards. •Yonder comes Reuben, now,' said grandpa, looking up from his paper. 'Ana your everlasting Dick 8purr with him. If I was that fellow, I'd take np my ho"rd here at once. It would be more dec«ut than spending half his time here free gratis for nothing.'

The two gentlemen came up to the steps as the candid Benjamin finished bis remark. Cousin Reuben wan tall and reserved looking. Mr. Spurr was small and talkative. Both were moderately good-looking. 'Good evening. Miss Lutie good evening, Mr. Farra,' cried Mr. Spurr, in his sprightliest manner. 'How are you, Ben How is your cold, Miss Lutie 'Ob, my cold don't amount to anything ,' said Miss Lutie, smiling in his face, and making room for him on the seat beside her. 'You all make a mountain out of a molehill. You are determined tp have me an invalid.' 'It's because we love you so much,' said Mr. Spurr, in a tender undertone, and pulling his mustache with a sentimental air. Mr. Spurr was much give'n to tugging at bis mustache, which waa weak and whitish looking. Ben said he pulled it to make it grow fast but so far nis efforts had not been crowned with success.

Lutie's only reply was another dangerous smile. Cousin Reuben, who had seated himself off at some distance, now looked up and said graveiy: 'You have a very bad cold. You are quite hoarse this evening. You must let uie mix you some medicine before you go to bed.' 'Thanks, no,' returned Lute, cooly. 'I prefer a bad cold—to something worse.9 •You needn't fear my giving you disagreeable medicine,' he said, smiling. 'I wasn't alluding to any bad taste in your medicine I was thinking of the effects of it it might make me worse off than I am now,' she said, looking studiously away from him, and whistling a little under her breath.

He looked at her in surprise as he caught the sting of her remark, and his dark face reddened but he answered quietly, 'You will do as you please I press my services on no one.'

Grandpa had fallen into one of his reveries, and had heard nothing that passed. Mr. Spurr was too well bred to show any surprise at this little passage of arms, but Ben wasn't. He stared at his sister for awhile in a markedly a»tonished and indignant manner, and then said, in good, strong English,'Late, you're a brute, and deserve a good whipping.' With that young Master Farra went bis way in disgust.

Ahem! it's a very delightful evening,' observed Mr. Spurr, anxio.us to change the subject, and saying the first thing that popped into his head. 'Do you like the spring. Miss Lutie?' 'I do,' responded Miss Lutie. taking her eyes from the tree at which she had been calmly looking, and dropping them on him. 'Likewise Rammer, autumn, and winter—I like 'em all.'

Bat which do you like best?' urged Mr. Spurr, as though he took a vital interest in her answer.

I haven't the remotest idea. This has been such a delicious spring that just now spring is rather a favorite.' 'Most ladiea like spring,' said Mr. Spurr, gallantly. "Tis the season of flowers and budding leaves and—and—'

Fresh onions and green peas,' aaid Lutie, laughing. 'It's a good time for fishing, too. Do you ever go fishing, Mr. Spurr? I'm devoted to it.' 'N-no I'm not especially attached to it. I believe Reuben there is. Aren't you, doctor?' 'Yes, I like to fish when I have the time for it, which I .never do,' replied the doctor, coming out of a brown study. 'Not that I have such an immense practice,' he continued, hastily, seeing a slight ourl on Lutie's lips 'but whatleisure I have, I think I ought to devote to study.' 'I wonder you are not studying now,' said Mr. Spurr. 'I never saw such an old book worm as he is, Miss Lutie. He looks as If he grudges stopping study to talk to me when I drop in to see him.' The doctor drew his long beard up over his lips to hide the smile on them. 'I'll be bound, now, he doesn't waste mach of his precious conversation on you all here.'

We rarely see him except at meals,' replied Lutie, indifferently. 'I feel like taking a walk. Would you like to go, Mr. Spurr?' 'I should be delighted,' responded that gentleman, gallantly,twirling hi*moustache. 'You had better put something around you, Miss Lutie.' 'Bring me ray shawl out of the ball, then,' said Miss Lutie, rising and shaking out her draperiea. 'Grandpa, you had better go in now it is getting cool out here.'

Child, yoa mustn't go oat this late in the evening,'said grandpa, anxiously. Reuben,it's too cold for her to go out, is it not?' 'Cousin Late thinks she knows what is brat for her,' Baid the doctor, distantly* 'I am going to wrap up well, grandpa,' said Lute, taking the shawl—a fleecy, white thing—from Mr. Spurr's hand, and arranging it around her becomingly. 'Please let me go and she kissed him in away that came near making Richard Spurr craay. 'Well, go along, then,' said grandpa, looking at her fondly. 'I don't see why she lets that young Sparr go with ber so tua«h.' he oontinued, as they went off, arm in arm. 'Ihopeahe won't fall In love with him.' •I don't see how she coald,' responded Reuben, matching them rather grimly. •She has too much sense to fall love with such a rattlebrain as he.' 'My dear boy,'said grandpa, slowly, 'did you ever Mar or a women using her souse when she was in lore? The smarter they are, the neater fools it makes them. The loveliest woman I ever knew mad* herself an idiot over an ugly little high tempered wretch—and married him too. Never be surprised at anything a woman may do when she Is in love.'

The doctor lighted a cigar and paffed away in thoughtful silence. He finished the cigar, ana grand pa went hi to bed, and to sleep ami to snore bat the promenaders did net return. He tossed the biasing stump away, with a muttered something that was not eifectly a txine-

[ng

resent

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EV ENLN vj- MAIL.

diction, and marched off to bed with a very resolved air and a much roughened forehead.

The next afternoon Was so tempting that Lutie found it impossible to sit in the house and work. It seems a sin to stay indoors while there was such sunshine and such fresh green outside. So she put on her sun bonnet, and-with 'Enaymion' in one hand and her fishing tackle in the other, set oat lor the pond, spend tho afternoon in a way after her own beurt. Farra's Pond,' as it waa called,was the admiration and envy of the whole country. It was in a deep hollow, shadro hy beautiful trees, and wassolargeti. it strangers often mistook it for a lake, mach to old Mr. Farra's delight. It had been dag by the

owner's father when the adjoincity was bat a hamble village. It waa a favorite resort of Lutie's, partly on account of tha fine fish in which ft abounded, and partly because of its own lovely quietness. She soon arrived at it, and, softly whistling to heraelf, laid her book and lines in the little boat, and glanced around for signs of fishing worms. Her experienced eye soon de-. elded on a place, and she beg^n industriously digging for them with an old shingle. 'Bab!' she said, as she deposited half a dozen squirming red fellows in the rusty tin can kf-pt tlitro l«»r purpose. •What uasty things worms are! I wish one could flsh without bait. It takes away half my plenvure to have to put them on the book. There, that's enough. Oh, mercy! I'vo got my feet damp in this horrid wet place but no matter I'll stick them upon the seat in front of me, and the sun will soon dry thom.'

She went back to the skilff, put ber bait in, and then got in herself, unloosed ft, and paddled out beyond the shadows of the trees into the warm sunshine. She drew in her paddle ami laid it across her lap, baited her hook, and dropped it gently into the water, elevated her feet on the seat in front of her and began to enjoy herself greatly. 'What a sweet thing sunshine is!' she said meditatively watching the flying cloud shadows and trembling tree shadows. Lute was a great lover of na tore, but she kept it carefully bid. She had an idea that, it appeared sentimental and weak to go into raptAres over birds, flowers, etc., and she had a great borror of both those adjectives. 'I believe 1 had a bite. Pshaw! no, I didn't. Well, I'll read awhile. I enjoy reading Keats out-of-doors on a day like this,' she went on, slowly turning the leaves. 'It gives a fresher flavor to his "lush green leaves" and "dew-dappled poppies." I believe I'll begin at the beginning. The first book of "Endymion" is the best anyhow.'

She began to read, at first with her attention' divided between her bobbing cork and her book, but the latter soon got the best of it. The venturesome fish nibbled away at her bait without her noticing it but finally a big fellow got the hook in his unfortunate mouth, and gave the line such a jerk as to bring ber back abruptly from the classio shades of Mount Latmos. It did not bring her. back without a start, though, and that start sent the paddle in ber lap spinning in the water, and came very neat sending ber book after it, but it fortunately fell in the bottom of the boat instead. Lute was too sharp a flsherwoman to waste a thought on sudb trifling things as paddles aud books at such a moment as this. Her whole heart was on the end «f her line. After a dozen abortive efforts, in wh eh she came near capaising her little skiff, she brought the fish out of the water, panting and wriggling, and regarded him iu triumph. 'What a beauty!' she said, disengaging her hook from his mouth. 'He's the biggest one I ever caught here. He must weigh at least five pounds.' Lute's idea of weight was defective. 'Won't Ben be jealous? There, old fellow, lie there. Nuw I must get that plagued paddle,'

Bat that plagued paddle was far beyond ber reach now, and was floating tranquilly off to shore. 'It's a good thing there's another in the bottom of the boat, or I should be in a bad fix,' soliloquized Lute, as she threw out her line again.

She fished on till nearly dark even then the flsh were biting so well that she could hardly prevail on herself to stop. But the air waa growing chilly, and she knew she ought to be in the house. So she resolutely drew in her line and wrapped it around the pole, lowered ber feet, reached down in the boat for the remaining paddle—

The paddle wasn't there, f"I She felt nervously iu every impossible place for the missing paddle, but it was nowhere to be found. Well, she was in a fix! Out in the middle of the pond, with no possible means ol getting to the shore! Night was coming on rapidly and she was already shivering with cola. No body at the house knew where she was they woald think she was in town visit-

But the house waa not far off—maybe they could hear ber it she called out as loud as she coald. She rose and opened ber mouth to give a prodigious yell but she oould not speak above a whisper. Her damp feet and the obili night air had already brought her cold to this climax.

Lute sat down, overwhelmed. There was nothing she coald do—absolutely nothing. Sue would have to stay out there all night, and she knew—there was no use wincing matters—it would be the death of her.

She looked tragically into the growing darkness, and thought, even if they came there to search for her, they could not see her from the shore, and she was not able to utter a sound to let them know that she was near. She forgot there was such a thing as a moon at night.

Bat stop! sheeoald utter a soundthank Heaven she oould whistle. Her face brightened as she thought of this very mach despised accomplishment of hers.

With rising spirits, she drew ber overskirt over her slhoulaers to keep herself warmer, and began to whistle Schubert's 'Serenade'in her finest style. The birds started in their nests as the strange sweet notes floated toward them, then dropped their drowsy little heads and slept mora soundly than ever. Music is a good thing, bat aleep is a better, at night.

Just then she thought she beard distant footsteps coming toward the pond. She hastily resumed her whistling to direct them to her she had no wish to stay ont of doors ah night, no matter how beautiful it was. The footsteps drew nearer, they came hurrying down the slope, and in a very few minutes Cousin Reuben stood in a narrow strip of moonlight on the edge of the pond. 'Good God! Lute.' he cried in an agitated voloe, 'what are yoa staying oat on the water this lata at night for? Dont yoa feel how oold it is? It is enough to kill yon.'

Lute had stopped whistling abruptly, and ahe now motioned to the paddle, which was lying near Us feet. He did not understand, and cried, impatiently 'Why dont yoa come to shore? Ob, yoa rash girl, to be sitting there with your bad oold Make baste.'and paddle back to abore.'

Lute kept motioning so persistently at his feet that he glanced down and saw the paddle. He picked it up and Aaid quickly, 'Did yoa drop this out of the boat? Haven't yoa the other one in there?'

Lute nodded to the first question and shook ber head at the lat t. 'Why don't you speak out? Have yoa lost your voice?'

She nodded vehemently, and touched her throat and chest. •Good God!' he repeated, tearing off bis coat and overcoat, 'she is hoarse she can't speak. Ob, child, you'll kill yourself

He jerked up the paddle and was in the water, swimming toward her, before she knew what be was doing. When he came to th« boat be lifted himself in lightly, and sat with his back to her, so bis wet kn«*es and leet would not touch her.

Lutie watched him with a peculiar look during ti.e time he was paddling back to shore.

He did n-r. »p« ik till he bad fastened the buk.i ana ueiped n«r out. Then he took up I 'M nvorcoat and said, 'you are shivering Un ctld: let me put my coat around you.' •Oh, uo you n. wet,' she whispered 'You must put u.' 'A little wettiug won't hurt me,' he tt«ul 'I'm aa

tough

Eurriediy.

as a pine. You must

let uie put it around you. Will you pat your arms throujjn th«* sleeves? WeiJ— there!

Dou't

too. me or I'll get you

wet.' 'I will touchy I don't care if I do get wet,' flie sai in a sobbing whisper, laying ber hand «»n his dripping sleeve. 'I was so rude to you yesterday, you ought to have Utt me staid out there all night in the cold •Oh, no,' he said, smiling, and wrapping his overcoat more tightly aroand

•And it was all about nothing,' she aaid. 'It was all because Ben «*id that jyou—you—' 'That I what?' asked Reuben, bending liis head over closer so he could bear her. 'You thought it was unladylike and— and ill bred in me to whistle. Do you think it is so bad?'she asked, looking numbly up in bis face. 'If you do, I'll uev»r whistle again.' Poor Lutie was completely subdued by Cousin Reu boil's returning her evil with ooil in sut ii a magnanimous way. 'He's not oi.l iven himself an awful wetting,' she thought, remorsefully, 'but he has spoiled his be»t business suit. His pantaloons will never be fit for a dog to wear again.' "'I don't think I ever used such strong words as ill bred and unlady-like in regard to your whistling,'answered the doctor, smiling in her troubled face. 'Beu exaggerated a little. But I must confess I used to dislike to hear a lady whistle, but—' 'I'll never whistle again,' interrupted Lutie, with as mueh decision as ber voiceless condition would allow. 'But,"be continued, still smiling, 'I don't dislike it now. I love, to hear you whistle. Besides, it was your whistling' directed me 10 you to-nigbt. PeiitapsI shouldn't have found yoa without it. So take back your rash vow, Cousin Loutie.' 'I wish you would do something to

uuish me for my rudeness,' she said 'Give me as much medicine as you want I'll take a whole barrel full if you say so.' 'But 1 shan't say. he said. There waa still a smile on hi* lips, but none in bis eyes they shone !-trangely. *1 don't know whai made me so cross,' she went on. 'I know I'm spoiled and willful. I never bad a mother to show me how to be gentle and go*d *but I am not often so dreadful as I was to you, yesterday.- Oh,- Cousin Reuben, can you forgive me?' 'Lute,' he said, in a voice almost as low as hers, 'look at me.'

They were standing in the narrow strip of light, and the moon lit up both their faces. She raised ber wet eyes obediently, but the strange expression in his made her drop them, suddenly, while a startled, painful flaah bathed ber face. 'Shall I tell you why you were so cross to me?' he asked. •No, no,' she marmured, biding her face in ber hands.

Wa* it because you cared for ray opinion, uttcauseyou—loved me?' tiis wet arms were around her now—it was well she had on his thick overcoat— and were pressiug her closely to his wet breast. 'My innocent darling,' he whispered, 'you know now. why you were so cross with me.' 'How long have you known?' she said, her voice ooming smothered from his shirt bosom. 'Known what, dear love?'

Why I was so cross with you.' 'Not five minutes. It flashed on me jnst now, while you were asking me to punish you. 'I'm glad, said she. 'I didn't know myself, or I should have hid it better.' 'I'd defy you to do that,' he answered her, with a low laugh. 'Oh, my sweet, damb darling, look up and give me one ki9S.'

She raised her fair, smooth face, and his dark bearded one came in immediate and close contact with it. She murmured, on the divine breath of that first kiss, 'You have not said whether you love me or not.' •Does this feel like it?' he whispered, crushing her closer to him. 'Oh, my darling, I love you—I love you so much! I have been so mad about yoa as even to be jealous of poor little Dick Spurr. Last night I felt like killing him when you smiled on him so.'

She was too happy to feel a passing pang for poor Dick. How could she think now of anyone bat Reuben, with his cheek against hers and his eyes on ber? 'Yoa told me not to touch you,' she said to him presently 'don't you think you are acting rather inconsistently, Sir?' 'Go4 forgive me!' he said, loosing her. 'I am a selfish brate, to be holding you against me, wet and dripping as 1 am, 1 forgot everything bat myself. Do you feet cold?' anxiously. •Not a bit.' •Maybe the overcoat kept yoa from getting damp. I never thoogbt to havd hugged that old ulster with as macb zes as I have done to-night. Come, let's hurry home, and I'll begin giving yon that barrel of medicine you were so anxious to take.' •You must take part of it yourself,' she said, as they started up the slope in double-quick time. 'I am dreadfully afraid that this wetting will make yoa ill.' •I am too happy to be sick,' he said, looking at her in a way that made ber blush and tingle to her finger ends. 'Well give grandpa and Ben a doable surprise. Tbey believe yoa are in town somewhere bat I bade presentiment that yoa were at the pond, so 1 slipped down there qoietly, without telling anybody.' •Yea, they will be surprised at our—' And Lute stopped and reddened. 'At oar whatfdarling?' 'Oh, here wears at the bouse *ow,' said Lute, Irrelevantly. 'At oar loving one anotberT' said Reu

ben, inclosing the Ulster in another rapturous !»UH. 'Oh, my precious flower— my darling—my' Yen may be sure the doctor filled these blanks in an appropriate manner. •You're a nice doctor,' said Lute, disengaging herself, in a very rosy state, *to be putting sucu -od, wet arms aroand a person hoarse with cold. •Oh, I'll soon cure you,' making as though he would seiza her again but she eluded him. and fled up ^he steps and iuto the bouse

A BIO DIFFERENCE.

Beecher Believes in th* Theory, but Not in tA* Praftiee, of Spiritualism,

The subject of Mr. Beeaher's last sermon was The Universal Fatherhood of God." In the course of it he said that he did not doubt but what there were some oonditiens when the mind became sufficiently sen»itive to hold direct communication with the Divine Being. He also thought it extremely probable that the spirits of those departed had the power to revisit those upon the earth whom they had left behind. In this connection Mr. Baecher aaid: "With all my henst I wish I oould believe in Spiritualism, and I would if it was uot covered up with so much of nonsense the philosophy of the thing is all right. Do you suppose my father or my mother don't remember me? Why should not those who are nearest to us here be nearest to us there So far as the general idea of Spiritualism is concerned, I believe in it tut so far as the practical results are coucerned—that which is peddled through tb* country— that I d& not believe in. Wlinn I was in Liverpool iny father came to tue through a medium, and the old gentleman rapped—rapped very much like hi in

HOW TO DO IT.

I'm sorry for that' Horrid Man' wto asks for a receipt for getting bis wife up in the morning to kindle the fire, elc., and will send the best one I know of. I have seen this tried very successfully: If you try to make her get up she will not (women are contrary, you know) but just pretend yoa are not awake when your wife awakes in the morning, and she will likely call you gently don't hear her, she will call a little loader, don't hear she may with the' next call shake yoa a little tfive a little grunt, she waits a minute, calls again, grunt harder: another minute and she calls again— another grunt—the next time you say: •Yen, I'll get ap in a minute.' She'll wait too, perhaps, and disturb you again with her everlasting calling, but never you mind just give an occasional grunt untils she calls about the ninety-ninth time, and ten to one, by that time she'll be ready to get np herself and then she may as well kindle the fire and get breakfast before sailing you again, for yon may get your sleep out by that time anil get up without her calling you. Try this a few times and she will make up her mind that she may as well get up without calling you at all, especially if she has a 'big day's work to do.'

By the way, wonldu'tft be a good idea for you to have it inserted in the woman's rights bill that tbey shall have the right to kindle the fires, etc.? They only have.to wash the supper dishes, get the children to bed, darn stockings, and so on all the evening, while you 'men enjoy the arm chair and newspaper, and it is really a burning sbame that you should be obliged to get up and kindle the flrd, be very snre you don't set tbe teakettle over nor brush up the floor around the stove. Hoping you wili find the relief, I remain,

riage.

A HOBKID OLD MAID.

MBS. TIL TON—-HER PRESENT PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

jfew York World.

Mrs. Tilton bad answered the bell in person, and tbe reporter was quite astonished at the change in her appearance. Instead of tbe slight, delicate woman in unrelieved black, whose haggard, pale face was frequently seen in Judge Nelson's court room daring tbe progress of her husband's salt, there came to tbe door a plamp, pretty little woman with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, a quick, strong step and erect car

The mourning gown had given ilace to a stylish, close fitting dress of

biae ribbons. There seemed,' however, to be a modi greater proportion of nay In her naturally blade hair, than there was two year* age. The reporter saw only a vague resemblance of her old self as she looked early in tbe trial, bua closer likeness to her as she appeared when, one morning towards the close of the rait, she aross and awaited the reply of tbe judge to her written appeal for permission to testify.

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and I was very willing to hear from him if he bad anything to say. He remarked that he thought I was working too bard. [Laughter.] Well, I did not need him to come down from the blessedness of heaven to tell me that. If be had been at Liverpool, at London, at Manchester, as I was facing those mobs hissing like devils, three hours at a time, speaking with all the intentnessof bod and soul, how poor that waa to tell uie that. I said,'What shall I do father?' but the old gentleman had nothiug to remark on that subject." [Laughter!]

Continuing, Mr. Beecher described some further faint rappings, which were from his children. He said the thought of his children filled his eyes with tears, but they said naught to biin. "They could not talk," he said, "when they went home, and they did not seem to have improved on the other sido. My mother came, and her presence was the awakening oif every thought and memory that I bad of her for radiant in our household she was the virgin Mary of our family, or what the Virgin Mary is to every devout Romsn Catholic, that our mother was to her children. Through her I pray in every extremity —not to her. My mother represents me. My mother came last I felt as though she was there, but she said nothing she came and went. As a mother shonld come and look upon ber sleeping children, and seeing that they were well, shonld tarn and le§ve them, so she came and went up froan me. ''The whole heart hungered for these' things. Those who bad lost near and dear ones hungered for some token from them, and like people in times of famine who will eat black bread or anything, so these bereaved ones were fain to satsfy the hunger of their hearts with whatever was offered," and in that way he accounted for the ready credence given by people to the so called spirit manifestations. "I would not take|away this consolation, although I believe that in the main the manifestations are adventitious and untrustworthy. I say this because I believe I am a Spiritualist, that is, I believe in the Holy Spirit, and belie.ve that God could make himself manifest not by word, not by sign, not by touch, but he knovA how to appear, to open as in a vision a chamber of nope and love so that we are sure for the hour or the moment that God is with us, and that God cornea in and abides with some I do believe."

Little People.

A Sunday school boy being asked what made the tower or Pisa lean, re-

fand."

illed, "Because of the famine in tbe

The school boys in California, when a8ked"How is the earth divided?" answer, "By earthquakes." "Tommy, what does b-e-n-c-h spell?" "Don't know, ma'am." "What, you littleJnuiBscull! What are you sitting on?*' Tommy, looking sheepish: "Don't like to tell." 11% "What is wisdom?" asked a teacher of a class of small girls. A bright-eyed little creaturo arose and answered, "Information of the brain."

A littte girl had a representation of "Moses in the Bulrushes''in her picture book. "Here, grandma," said she, inBooently, "is a picture of Jesus in tbe huckleberry bushes."

The other day a teacher asked an anregenerate pupil what the gender of a certain noun was. The pupil quickly replied: "I think it is neuter, sir. At any rate it is neuter me."

The orphan boy has one advantage over the lad who is blessed with a full complement of parents. His mother can't make him a new pair of trousers out of his father's old coat.

When the Prinoess Helen was born it was told the Princess Royal that Bhe had got a young sister. "O, that is delightful!" cried the innocent royalist "do let m« go and tell mamma." "What is the meaning of a baokbitei?" asked a gentleman at a Sunday schools examination. This was a puzzler. It went down the class until it came to a simple urohin, who said, "Perhaps it is a flea."

Abandoned at Sea.

Ever thankfully yours, CLARA E. HUNT. WADING RIVER, Burlington Co., N. J.,)

February 28th, 1877.

PIERCE

Dear Sir:—Your Golden Medical Discovery is the best medicine for coughs, colds, and consumption, I ey^r kjj^. It has saved my life. \7,

For sale by Gullck & Berry and by Groves A Lowry.

-1

At all times ships of one kind 6t another are floating about at sea, abandoned by offloers and crew, in what seems a hopeless condition. Some are dismantled ana mere hulks, some are swimming keel upwards, some are water-logged, but being laden with timber, will not sink, but are driven hither and thither as the wind and waves may dlreot. So people afflicted with catarrh, bronchitis, and consumption, are abandoned by physicians And friends as incurable, yet thousands of such are annually restored to perfect health hy the use of Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy and Dr. Pieroe's Golden Medical Disoovery. The Catarrh Remedy is unequalled as a soothing and healing local application, wkile the Discovery purifies and enriches tbe blood and imparts tone and vigor to tbe whole system.

VIOLA, LA., April 17th, 1877.

DR PIERCE: Dear 8ir:—l suffered for twelve years with that most offensive and loathsome of all diseases—catarrh. My taste and smell were completely destroyed. I

Elemedy

rocured.a supply of Dr. Sage's Catarrh and your Golden Medical Discovery, whioh I used according to directions, and a complete and permanent cure was speedily effected. I take pleasure in recommending them to all afflicted.

il-

Respeotfully yours, HELEN B. MoANNEY.

LIVER IS KING.

The Liver is the imperial organ of tbe whole human system, as it controls the life, health and happinessof man. When it is disturbed in its proper action, all kinds of ailments are the natural result. Tbe digestion of the food, the movements of the heart and bloed, tbe action of the brain and nervous system, are all immediately connected with the workings of the Liver. It has been successfully proved that Green's August Flower is unequaled iu curing all persons afflicted with Dyspepsia or Liver complaint, and all the numerous symptoms that result from an unhealthy condition of the Liver and Stomach. Sample bottles to try, 10 cents. Positively sold in all towns on the Western Continent. Three doses will prove that it is just what you want.

F. PKOBST. Wholesale and Retail Dealor lu/n' 'ir,

MOULDINGS,

it*

PICTURE

FRAMES.!,

628% MAIN BTRKET.

Pictures of every description framed In tbe mot approved manner, and at the lew- .. .st rates.

B3TNO AGENTS! m: Dealers in the surrounding country sup- J? plied at Cincinnati ra es.

ICE.

We are pleased to Inform the publl,eear friends and patrons especially, that we have succeeded in getting a large sapply of superior northorn C"

LAKE ICE Til

With which to serve them the eomlng •eason. Our prices are aa eheap tiie cheapest. WE ARE CITIZENS OP TERRE HAUTE, ana respectfully ask a continuance of their

L. P. PERDUE, •&,

Terre Haute Ice Company, #22 Main Street

QITY MARBLE WORKS.

M. HANRAHAN,

Manufacturer and dealer In American and Italian Marble and Scotch Granite Monuments, Tomb Stones, Urns, Vases, Garden

Fagr

-SI, fM

JMwMUh^hTrd street, between Ohio

and Walnut, east side, Terre Haute, Lnd. Flist-elass material and workmanship.