Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 9, Number 4, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 July 1878 — Page 6

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mamm

MAI LIENS

A PAPISR FOR THE PEOPLE.

1Q TIE TO,

•^TIb not the girl with roenish eye,' A a

That watches all the passers-ky, '. And with each one is merry i^That still i« talae and Mill it fair,

A loving heart should *ij?h tor-

**5be gives aside glance anil looks down, Her heart seems in a flutter, -4 And at her smile or at her frown,

Your thOugbts yon cannot ntter. She smirk*, and seems all tenderness, Perhaps she gives

The door was open, but there was no one in the front room, where Rupert had been wont of late to entertain roistering Jack and bis friends with an exhibition of his art. No one in the passage, nobody on the stairs—all was dark and si* lont.

They waited. What to do next, and where to go? Presently they heard a voice up stairs, and footsteps.

Ban listened 'That's master Rupert,' he said. 'Follow close to me, Miss Helen.'

The room was lit by a single gas jet, flaring high, like one of those which decorated the butchers' stalls outside. It was an old fashioned wainscoted room, but tbe paint was thiok with dirt, and the ceiling, whlob had onoe, perhaps, been whitewashed, was blackened with Haioke and grimed with age. It was furnirthed with a low, rickety wooden bed and with a couple of ohairs—nothng else, not even a washstand or a table.

On tbe bed, propped up by pillows, sat ronton Tom. He was dying his cheeks were whlte'and sunken tbe old wound nr. the side of bis lip showed red and ghastly against the deadly pallor of bis -heek his hair lay over his low, recedi:iir forehead round him was thrown an old pea jacket, and in his trembling fingers he held a tumbler half full of rum.

He looked round and saw his visitors, with a curious smile. 'Bon Cruil, Is it?' he gaspedl 'old Ben i'roll, the tio's'n. Thought you was dead, mute thought you was cast away hi the captain's gig-you aud the young lady and George Warneford. Giaa you're not that makes thre little counts, 'ihree less. Bully for you, Histoti Tom!'

Lie raised the tumbler to his lips, and would have let it fall in his weakness, but for Rupert, his sole companion, who held it for him while he drank, with a look half of apology and half of recognition at Helen and Ben. 'It is all wo can do for him now,' he explained. l)jes be know it T* whispered Helen. 'Does he know his condition?'

The man, who had droned bis eyea for a momont, opened

th*m, and

srt.

t«For she Is as fickle as the «tr, *.* And will not do totieto

sigh, toe

Deed not her ugnals of distress— ,v She will not do to tie to.

fii

Bhe has a smile for one and all Her heavy silken lashes Above her bright eyes slowly fall

As she her quick glance flashes. "She neems to love, or loves the best The one she chances nigh to. •$ *.Bewar*) of her. and cease jar quest—

Bhe will not do to tie to. *$4

'Bat when yon see a maiden feright And fall of tender graces 'w*~ Upon her countenance the light

Thatdwells.ln heavenly faces .Modest In thought, and all yoar speech Scarce ready to reply to: 'Oh, then, your eager arms outstretch—• or she will do to tie to.

ton want, In one yon make yonr choice, Of mede«ty the leaven "The low, sweet accents a vole.?

Which brings you ar-rr heaven. *'When you have found her, bend the knee And make her yours—or try 10

For trust me, friend, there cannot be A better one to tie to.

When the Ship Comes 1

BY WALTER BK8ANT AND JAMJtS BICE.

.Authors of "The Golden Butterfly," etc.

CHAPTER X.

BEN HAS HIS REVENGE.

Out in the cold Dacenbsr evening Helen and Ban walked through the streets, crowded with the late buyers in the Christinas markets Tbe old man was silent, thinking ovtr his baffled hopes of justice. It was a bitter pill for him to swallow. After all these years, in which every day brought before him in stronger colors tbe blackness of the treachery which" lost the Lucy Derrick and destroyed so many lives, and after linding bis enemy the last and worst of the whole mutinous crew, to learn first that Christian forgiveness might have to include even that desperate villain, and then that a more potent band of justice than even British law was taking him away from his grasp—all this was too much for tbe good old uian. Helen divined bi» thoughts, and tried to lead them back to other matters. 'You will be rejoiced, Ben, to see Mr. VVarneford's good nauie restored to him, will you jiot 'Ay, ay, Miss Helen. Not that it makes any difference to him, nor to you, nor to me neither, in so far as my rospeots is concerned. Boston Tom is at the bottom of that villainy too.' 'He was, Ben, and if he is on his death bed, we must forgive him that as well as the groatercrime.'

Ben made no answer. They came into Whitechapel High Street, all ablaze with gaslight, and presently arrived at the house.

bestowed a

wink upon her which saved the trouble otspeech. llow to address this man? How to touch with even the slightest spark of human feeling a heart so callous and so seared?

Ben Croil saved her tbe trouble of Vfxishieratlon. Stepping to the foot or the bed, be gated ateadlastly in the face of his enemy. •At last I've found vou,' he said. 'Ay, mate, you've foand me, and none

Guess I'll save my neck yet.'

sorry.'

i9c.

marry I

looked after me when all the lot bolted. You're the one as has stuck to me these days, and never let me want for nothing. So I'll give you sil I've got left* and tbat'sa word of advice. If you go to sea, don't you go mutineertng, and keep yoar bands from slaughtering the captain and mates. Then you'll live to

be a credit to your family. 'Are yon sorry for nothiug Thomas Priogle?' Helen 'Lota,' be- replied,—'1

his place.' 'In the case of George Warneford, now —the man who escaped with me in the boat—' *Ay, ay I remember welL Thatwaia bad

job/

thatwaa/ &

'I know all .abont.it,' said Helen 'yoar brother Sstnfael toldme.' _f 'Did hp, now?' Boston Tom asked the I questiou with an fcir of keen interest. 'Did, be, really? Idid ase to tell 1*1 I that if he ever split on that job, I'd take him out some dark night—say, Hamp* I stead Heath way—and braiu him so I would have done too, three years ago. Suppose it'snb use thinking of that how can't be done.'

He lay back after this effort and closed bis eyes, exhausted. He opened bis eyes again alter a few minutes, and uttered, with great enjoyment: 'Catch a weasel asleep! If Sam has really confessed, that's all you want but if he hasn't, yoa don't catch m« nap ping.' 'He has confessed, indeed,' said Hel en. 'Doyoa think I would bring you an untruth now, of all times in the world?'

He shook his head. 'There's one thing more to be said, Boston Tom,' Ben strack in. 'Tis a small matter, this old forging business, and if Miss El wood wants your name at the foot of a bit of paper, yoa may as well put it there. Murder's different, and, by George! if yoa don't do what she asks, I'll step out and fetch a policeman this minute. If you can't be hangei, you shall sit in a cell without tbe ram.' 'Give me another drop, boy. 'Let be, let be!' said Ben, lnte and hastily snatching tbe bottle from Rupert's hand. 'Not another drop shall you have until yoa've made that cou fession.'

Take anything away, but leave me that, You, boy, you're stronger than him fight him for it tear it out of his hands make him give it to you. Up. boy, and fight him!'

But to his surprise the boy joined his enemies. 'You shall have your ram,' he said, 'when you have signed the paper.'

Then he lost his courage, and began to moan and whine, exactly like his brother Samuel. 'I'll sign anything.' he said, 'if you will give me the bottle.'

Helen wrote rapidly. She bad all tbe facts, and wanted nothing but a simple declaration. In a few minutes she was ready. 'Listen, now. lell me if thie is all you have to say: 'I, the undersigned, believing myself to be dying, solemnly deolare that tbe forgery for which George Warneford, clerk to tbe bouse of Batterick A Baldwin, was convicted, and sentenced to twenty years' penal servitude, was Committed clerk in that the whole of tbe forgeries, of which that was the last, were by the same Samuel Pringle. They were committed at my own instigation, and for my own profit I had the spending of the money, and Samuel Pringle, my brother, never touched a penny of it. George Warneford knew nothing about it from tbe be ginning to the en 'That's about all,' said Thomas Prin gle. 'I've nothing more to say it's quite time give me the bottle.' 'Not yet,' said Ben. 'Take time—so! Now sign as well as you can,

?fh?s arfi ?S

tbe same firm. I also declare I

Helen guided the fingers while the sig nature of Boston Tom slowly drew itself across the bottom of tbe page then the pen fell from his hand, and Boston Tom's head fell back upon the pillow. For awhile thoy thought him dead, but be was not ho opened his eyes and motioned for tbe rum, which Rupert held to his mouth. 'Leave me to tbe boy,' be sighed wearily.

While they thus looked on at this miserable ending of a shameful life, there was a noise of low, and steps were heard upon the stairs. The door opened and Dan'l Miz»n appeared behind him two policemen. 'There he is, gentlemen,'said the exship boy, eagerly. 'There he is! That's Boston Tom, tbe ringleader of tbe murderers. And, oh! here's Mr. Croil, gen tlemen. Bar witness for me, I'm tbe first to give information. I'm Queen's evidence. I'm the one that came forward first.' •Thomas Pringle. alias Boston Tom,' said one of the policemen. 'I've got a warrant for vou. It's mutiny and mur der on the high seas and remember, what you say now may ba need against yoa in evidence.'

ksssst

tm«ion. !»•'I Uld IU b(«J busk apoa ttM ptUowud JT T?* closed his eyes. H»ey waited for five the determination Of keepiug It up to the! |Qates jjg did not open hia eyea.

end in his face. Where's that rope bo's'n?' he went on. all. Boston Tom's booked, look ye here, mate, all of them fellows is dead and gone, every man Jack of them. Some of 'em drowned sons* of 'em eat up for food when we took to the boat* some of 'em food for sharks. Youngster .gi ve me hold of that bottle.' He took a pull at the rum, and went on, after a fit of coughing which might have killed an "ostrich. *Lgh, It's this oough that vents me from talking prop me up a more. boy. So, Ben, you're done this time.* •S*y you're s-rry, mate,' said Ben, in whose mind, touched by toe sight of the forlorn wretch, llelen*s teaching sudden* I roam Iy sprang up full-blown into ehaVity. rooms to the other. ".•Sav vou're

Sbeated

on spoke about, jrou^alter

and sister, bad

More ram, my I hers, thinking what a wonderful story it was and then, because we all want to have a little of our own interest iu everything, realized how dull .the coming days would be without Ruth to cheer them ap. 'l 'Tell me Whst it means, Charlotte,' said Ruth. 'What is the mstter with everybody? Is It on account of the mysterious Chrismas present?'

ra^e fe tharw^, .t siro'cl^k

and looked about him, trying to reool leel •Ifs all a dream,' be «aid. gone before in the dream? You're Bo's'n Croil you are old Ben. I know yoa. Thsre'a Dan Mizon. We're all honast men here, play fltir and square, drink »qnare and fair, pay up and play again. Paw tbe rum, my boy/

And with these words Boston Tom

One of the constables took his hand and felt his pulse. The hand was cold, and the pulse had stopped.

He had gone before another Judge. CHAPTER XI. craxnu^m. The next day was a day of mystery. Miss Elwood had a long talk in the morning with Madame Lemire and Antoinette, the result of which waa a great

Street. It was holiday wttb tbe professor but conscious of Impending change, restlessly from one of the two

what's the use of that?' asks the im-1 panted by Charlotte, and took refuge in penitent murderer. 'That won't bring tbe church, where aha bad heroraan to »—i' rtarriek. of

oonr9t

Mck the Lucy Derrick

Ruth stole out after breakfast, aocotn-

I'm atfend to till dinner time. When the

•M

Whattfcl my torrowtnd

Eumhly

UDRKE aaai

with' ret urned, she.too, felt that It wm avery I 'No, sir nW My kind old master,

gallows or the black cartons and day. sOld Ben, I there, has nothing to forgive.' SorryP Tnen he, turned to Rue who, Uke the rest, wsa rwutss and die 'John, my boy'—Mr. Baldwin turned See, bo« ydu're* tramp you'v- turbad, o^dm the door and poked his 'to hia nephew—'tell we what I ought beadibjutttosay.ln a hoarse whisper to do.' 'It'sail rirlit at last,, mi u. Hmrtup,j. 'First aak George to' let me marry pwttji' and then hurriedly disappeared. Rath,' said John, holding oat his bah

Nettie, too, camo rushing up Iruin the I kitchfen olitre in every quarter or an bohr,On purpose to kiss and hog heir, and then, ai&r pirouette or two of

»pironett

wonderful dexterity, rushed downstair* shouted. and disappeared. I

fall. Bat then Thomas Pringle is gone reetless .be could not sitstiil he fidgeted (away Helen Elwrood 6n her wedding for many a year, and Boston Tom's topk on his chair, be stood on his toes, he I day, which must be mine and Ruth's as 'danced on his elastic feet from one end of the room to tbe other, and then, before finally dancing out—which he did after an boor of this performance—he took Ruth's head in his hands and kiss* ed her on tbe forehead.

And when he was gone, Rath felt that he bad dropped a tear upon her brow. For every roay now, except tbe children and herself, knew the whole story. They knew now what it all meant, the mystery of all this coming and going they knew now tbe reason why this mysterious couple, this so-called

brother

wougLt out

these obscure

lodgings in the unknown region of America Square. Helen, before going

'All about it,' continued Helen. 'Sam- out on her victorious errand that tnorn-

uel Pringle forged tbe check at yoar in stigation.' 'So he did, so be did that's a fact. I wanted the moqey bad very bad I did want tbe mouey at one time. Warneford got it hot, and I laughed.' 'Samuel has written a confession of it all,'Helen went on 'but I want your on on 'Then, my lady, you won't get it so you may go away again, and leave me I here till the tirnev hp, lad.'

ing, had told Madame Lemire her story. Therefore Nettie and her mother had a good cry, and cried at intervals during the whole day, insomuch that the grand culinary operations were as mnch wept over as if they had been intended for tbe cold meats of a funeral banquet. Tbey told Charlotte, who, after telling Gaspard and Rupert,.-crept up stairs and sat on a footstool, with Ruth's hand in

Charlotte shook her head. 'Better than that,' she said. 'That means only feasting. Far better than that something very, very good, Ruth —something that will make us ail happy, because it will make you happy. Think of the very best that could happen to you, the very best, you knownot a silly wish, not something, you know, for to-day or to-morrow, bnt for always—and then be qaite sure you will have it and more—yes, more.'

Tbe afternoon dragged on, and the early evening brought blindman's holiday. Then the children came flocking in, to sit round the fire and talk, as was their usual custom, with Ruth Warneford to tell them stories. But she told them none that evening, because she was anxious and disturbed.

Presently, one by one, the rest came

ixw 11°- Th6 professor, without his violin, I balancing bira^It on tiptoe N.tti. ,aj Madame dressed as for some

unusual

ceremony, and with ^xks of great mysterv. The boys came in, two, Rupert and Gaspard—the former with folded arms and a certain melodrama&lo gloom* the latter bursting with the importance of having a real and wonderful secret to tell.

The elders tried to talk, bat it was no use. Conversation flagged, and a damper was thrown over any more efforts by the sudden breaking out into sobs and tears of Madame Lemire. When Nettie and Charlotte followed, and all three fell to kissing Ruth and crying over her at the samp time, tbe professor, followed by his two eldest sons, retired to the ofass room, whence presently issued the well khown strains of the violin, aobomanied by sounds indicating that, with is two sons, tbe proleBSor waa seeking consolation in Art. As for the children, all this orying, with tbe hou«e full of the most enjoyable and hitherto un dreamed-of good things, seemed a kind of flying in tbe face of Providence so

h!'y T^hn I «»eir bful love and her, John, and make her happy. He I ... spoke as one deeply moved.

And where, tftss El wood, where—' He looked round tbe room. 'Not here—oome up stairs, Ruth, dear, with met Mr. Baldwin, and all of you— yes, all of you. Come, kind friends, all. Rath, there is One more surprise for jroa, and then we qhall feave finished.'

She spoke with quivering lips, and led the way up stairs. Her brother, standing Impatiently before the fire, sprang to meet her. 'Yes, George,' said Helen, 'it is done. Ruth, dear, this is not my brother, but my betrothed. It Is your own brother —your own brother George. Do you not remember him now? Tes, Ruth, yrfur brother restored to yon, indeed, and hia innocence establiabed before all the world.'

Than said Mr. Baldwin who leaned upon John Wybrow Whilefee spoke, and

beenimdkioK la the carriage what'I

that would express

myjoyv

Own W band. «M '/oonfMlow who him without a ^rord. Hecould find no' sated words his sister was clinging to latla neck, weei_" and his own

'I have sinned grbatly,' ssTd Mr. Bald win 'I was too ready to believe evil. I should hsve known all along that yoar father's aon could not—could never have done that thing.' •Say no more,sir,' aiid George let eep. Tell me only that yon tbe past sleep. ana truly satisfied.' let the past be forgotten,

are quite cannot

injury has been comgreat reparation must reproschee that I have

mil follow. The

ls of the firm si ask tola don."

hurled at j^n urmythoughta forthe KttSuTfo^hlltfvSSZSStXC lasteight yeara oome back °P?» ^md ^^nRly ^™is l^he

to the professor and

old man, turning to the professor a his famUy, who fW gathered, not without an insttaotiye Mrting aa. to artistic grouping. In the doorwaV, 'who have entertained Bnth WarnefonT as of yourselvea, and have known bar all along, how ahall we thank you? To-morrow isChristuias day, but onthe

one story day followiiw I ahall proclaim George Wameford*s innocence to all the peo-

id, in their presence, Injured man for par

'Granted at onee,! said George 'that is, if Ruth says jee.' They shook hands, ana the audience —the Lemires—ciapped their hands and

'Wbat next should I do, John?' asked

And then the professor Came and sat Mr. Baldwin, wiping his eyeglasses with with her—the kind professor, her die- his handkerchief. voted friend* He too was silent and I »The next thing yon mcftt do Is to give

well and you mast buy her the very handsomest present you can think of no curmudgeonly gift will do.'

The audience dapped their hands again, approving this. John Wybrow who was a practical man, then said there had been enough of tears. 'Ay, ay, bn what next?'

This time

it.

Rupert.

Then they had a waltz, and Rupert danced with Ruth, while John took Helen.

Then began the dancing of high art, after this respect to social usage. 'Danse de Fole!' cried tbe professor. 'Pas seul, Mademoiselle Lemire pas de deux, Mademoiselle Lemire and Mon Bieur

Rupert Lemire,'

At eigbt Madame Lemire announced that supper was ready, and they all tiled in. Needleas to tell of the splen dors of this wedding feast, only, as the

.. ebtered the room an unexpected sigh" I their eyes. Rupert, holding a leword in his bands, was stan. The professor returned and lit the gas, and the others formed a group involantArily.

Helen was the first who entered, *nd she was followed by Mr. Baldwin and John Wybrow.

John: Wybrow? Was it possible? Then this great thing was—was— 'My own dear, dear, Bath,'said John, quite naturally, holding hei* in his strong arms. ''Don't cry, my darling. It is all right at last, and hereia Mr. Baldwin to tell yoa str.' 'We have done a great wirong, my* dear/ he said, solemnly 'a very great wrong, and God forgive us for our nard hearts, and for oar readineas to think .evil. I am here to ask your pardon-

was old Ben who stepped

to tbe trout

and

touched his gray old

forelock. 'Beg pardon, s, there's one that ought to be remembered. Who found out Boston Tom and eat by him night and day, so that he couldn't escape if he wished, and stuck to him? Stand for'ard, Master

That's the lad, sir.

He wants to go to sea. Give him passage out and back in one of yoar own sbips.'

Mr. Baldwin sheok hands with Ra pert, now of rosy hue. 'You shall have whatever you like to ask for, young gentleman, if I can give it.'

Once more around of applause from the,family. By a dextrous movement of the right leg, Rupert gracefully stepped over their heads, and deposited himself In the background. .'And nothing for you, Mr. Croil?' 'Nothing for me sir,' said the old sail or. 'I belong to Miss Helen.' 'Any thing else, John?' asked Mr. Baldwin, stili unsatisfied 'You ought to give desks in your office to as many of Mr. Lemire's sons as like to accept them and, my dear uncle, the partnership which you promised to me, and which I threw over with so much bravado in the church—1' •It is yours, my boy, to begin from the new year.' 'No give it to George Warneford, as some reparation for his eight years of

unmerited suffering.' 'That will not be fair,' said George. But the audience clapped their hands again. 'Both of yoa, both of yoa,' said Mr. Baldwin. 'The firm can take ih both, And what more, John?' 'Why,' sir,* said John, 'I fi id that Madame Lemire wOnld be delighted il we would all stay and take supper here: and I really think that, if the professor wbald allow such a thing, we might have a little danoe down stairs before supper,

Again tbe andience clapped their I hands, and there was a move to the class-room.

Tbe professor took his violin of cerediony. 'Simple quadrille of four,' be an nobneed. 'Mr. Warneford and Miss fiiwood at the head, Mr. Wybrow and &iss Warneford for visa vis.'

He struck the floor with his foot, snd began to play. It was a lame sort of quadrille at first, be ause two of the performers had tearlul eyes, and would rather have sat iq a corner. But John Wybrow knew what he was about, and wbat was best for everybody.

standing on the

table,, and, as they crowded in,executed trVand dance among the dishes, as difficult and as original as any Indian dance among eggs. And such was tbe toveof the Lemire family for art, that this spectacle gave them more delight and pride even than tbe pheasants and cold turkey, champagne, Which followed. Mr. Baldwin, after supper, askied if he might propose a toast.

Not to the health and happiness of ith Warneford,' he said thktls deep in all our hearts. I propose

George itid Ruth Warneford/ he said ifcTsdeeptn that we drink the health of Professor Jjetplre, who is a good and a kind man that we vfish him all the access that he wishes for himself, and more: and that We thank htm and hia wife and children,

care of Ruth. Let us promise never to forget the great debt we owe him—a debt io heavy that no service oould pay it oflf—a debt, my friends, which we would not pay oil if we could. For in this house Rttth was received with love and brought up, in Godfearing ways of truth and religion, for yon, George Warneioid, and for ua.' a

His sister Nettie

mfUjr two or tbre6 years danoe

th«

iltmi

My story is told. Yoa sea now, reader, who hai told it. The writer is my wife —uuf Helen. Twenty years have pawed since that day, and we are old married pie. Some of those who played part in the drama have departed from or old Ben la gone, and Mr. BaldWin the professor who oaaght eold from going into the rain In bis piim|NL It gone, too his wife was not long In lot lowing bitn. The yoang Letnfres, however, have done well. Rupert went out for his voyage, but once in Melbourne, •topped there, and la there still. He is long since married, bat be sends Rath

herself

wife to make him the

steadiest and be of men. She took

JoaugBt branches, ex-

I ""P1 Charlotte, who Uvea with Ruth

ryorow, children. And ea for me, I am tbe heed of the Arm of Batteriok A Baldwin, the other I partaker being John Wybrow. Our chief clerk IsOaspard Lemire. I got tbe

neon's pardon, which waa aeeeesary, Ir. Baldwin said, for nay oomplete restoration to the world, and 1 had the temporary annoyance of seeing my story told in tbe papers, and mangled In thetelltagftoo. I can never he too grateful for the recovery of my good name but

gilt that was ever vouchsafed to msn. fnmPP.] "Tax funeral waa elegant," wrote tbe Iratttng maid of a lsdy wboee hnaband had joat been buried, to her sweetheart.

was dreased in black silk, the fioweta were lovely, and mistress wept just like a bora

PtjmFir ^ud enrich the blood and you will not be troubled with skin diseases. Dr. Boll's Blood Mixtare is known to be a never foiling remedy.

GREAT EUROPEAN

RAILROAD

AND THE ONLY ONE ON EARTH

WILL EXHIBIT AT

(Between Sixth and Seventh Streets,.South Side of Vaudalia Railroad.)

.4lvrv' In Glittering Harnees on the Highway seen.

LIVING -ELEPHANT,

BORNE HIGH ALOFTr

*MI 5 XV/ "iefcfK

On a Great. Gold Encrusted Tableau Car, through the public streets.

5 PERFORMING BABY ELEPHANTS

Five-score Xew Bini mans Cireus Pacest« An imaslug Amphithea

.IkoCf

AND BEHOLD THE MARVEL OF MARVELS, I i*»T

A Pair of Nursing Twin Baby Elephants,

But thirty in hes high, and less tban one year old—the first and only ones ever

The Only„:Two-Horned Black Rhinoceros

In captivity a Pachydermatous Iron clad, In which 922,000 gold is Invested,

AXivlvg Museum of HAriiie Slensters a Vast tint* Temple of Illustrious Human Prodigies* embracing the Veritable Miracles of all Human Marvels. ",t',B*' 8

S a

The Graixlcst JKmbodlment of Aalural Object Teaching an mi oral

Amusement eithfr isphere has ever inn

A PEERLEHS, &2PAftATE GAS LIT AND *od*ftv'M*'*

-Decorated Arena:

Atf it HY

h&6

Joi JWPfi' l&l

OP THE UNIVERSE jo jfcX edJ at tt

And yet to every Department of which ONE TICKET ADMIT8,.and /or the price charged by Shows wulc

ch are but« detclmal fraotion in comparison with It.

EACH MORNING, FREE TO ALL, A dRAND GRATUITOUS GALA EXHIBITI051

Many tlmee more show for nothing than any other Exhibition charges you bail a dollar to see. Tlti&r *Oom) early end secure good places for the ladies and little ones to see tbe msgnifioent public illustration,of the Railroad Leviathan's Millionaire Resources, ie Mightiest Without-Price Amusement Pageant of any age.

A Menagerie of Mammoths marching in the streets a Darius Open Den ef Monster Lions, performed In the procession by tbe Dauntlew Bosworth the G6r* eoos Memnon Throne of Mdsio, drawn by twelve Camels the Steam Piano of lie Cyclops, whose notes may be heard for miles Massive sanares of Vehicular SnetitMleand Lindscaped Ltlrs Ailegori6 Ittustrstlnnsand National Tableaux the Mardi Graitff the I fetnpbi the Masques of the Komlcal Ku-Klux SooceedinsSqaadfDns of Spirited Thoroughbred Steeds a Living Avalanche of Royalrobed Employes a Moving Triumph, suoh asThebea ne'er saw. ^,',C

Am EzMbition PrmMitiitg f«* More than can be Advertised.} •TT Approved by the Pulpit, Press snd Public every where, and tbeOreat FamUy Field enow of America, meriting the patronage of the mothers end daughters of

onr fsVored land. Admlsaion toalL SO eents. Children nnder nine yi Doors open at 1 and 7 p. m. Performances lo tb later.

*s 10

ATJTE,

Canvas Colcsuis of Captive Zones

AND ,,&s8iJaaT

Equestrian Exhibition by Special Trains.

An Unfettered Mciiftgerie of Slaving Mountains

A Stupendous Steel screen Guarded Zoological Gar* 1«», drawn by I^oeoinolives dxtnm* J.-v1 a*'.

Hie One Great Circus of the World on Sumptuous» Palace Cars.

XJ IE IP IH-A-ISR TS^

5 flu

-it •4 .J

25 cents,

O O I E 29th.

World'a Arena one hoar

Will also exhibit, in ail ii« stupendous entirety, at