Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 9, Number 20, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 November 1878 — Page 7

n-IE-MAIL

A PAJPEK FOR TUB PEOPLE.

I ^The Haunted Hotel.

iCbHtmuedfrom Sixth Page.]

deoce of the otwly-married couple the riverskle Lady Mootoarry'sttbildren were invited to enjoy a day's piay In the eardfn. The eldwst girl overheard (and reported to ber mother) a little oonjugal dialogue which toachea on the topic of the haunted hotel •Henry, I want you to give me

'There It is, nay dear.', .2 1 •Now I am your wife may I speak to you about something.?' .v •What is itr

m^th?Dg.

'Something that happened th* day before we left Venice. You saw the Countess during the last hours of her life. Won't you tell me whether she made any confession to youf 'No eooscious oonfesslon, Agnes--and therefore no oonfewion that 1 need uwtrees you by repeating.' •Did she say nothing about what she saw or beard on that dre^llul night ir

We only know that her

mind never recovered the terror of it/ Agnes was not quite satlnned. The subject troubled ber. Even her own intercourse with her miserable rival of other days sugnflnted questions that perplexed ber. ~Sbo remembered the Countes*' prediction, *You have to bring me to the day oLdiscovery, and to the punishment of my doom.' Had the prediction simply failed, Hfee other mortal prophecies? or had it been fulfilled on the terrible night when she bad seen the appirltion, and when she had Inncv. oently tempted the Coijutess to watch her in her room.

Let it, however, be reoorded, among the other virtues of Mrs. Henry Westwick, mat she never again attempted to persuade ber husband into betraying his secrets. Other men's wives, bearing of this extraordinary conduct (and be ing trained in the modern school morals and manners), naturally regarded her with a compassionate contempt. They spoke of Agnes from that time fortbr as "rather an old fkshioned per-

son.'

Is that all? That is all. Is there no explanation of the mystery of The Haunted Hotel?

Ask yourself if there is any explana tlon of the mystery of your own life and death. Farewell. [THKKND]

A Crockery Cream-

p^-

A KERAMiC TALE.

Our obina club met one evening at Hopby Groves', and she said: 'There is a dear old woman with us from the country, whom I want you to see. She has a curious piece of old pottery, about which she tens a romantic story. I have begged her to come down stairsto night and toll you the taie in ber own way. Would you like to bear it?' Of coarse w© wore eager to do so, and Sophy at once brought Cousin Eunice to us. 'Well, I nevor! To think of your all settln' round to hear ine talk, just as if I was a book or a llb'ry. I'm real 'fraid you'll be dis'p'lnted but I promised Sophy, an' I allors set by my word, so here goes. I won't show you the crock1 ry till you've heered the story, 'oausc they' spile each other at fust. •Ye see, 'twas when we lived on the Yeller House Farm. Father he'd been dead raoro'n two year. He used to bo, ono time, real well off, an' prosp'rous but he signed hfs name to help bis Iriends, an" crops was bad, an' sousehow ^e got broke down.au' be jest giu up an' died, au' wo onvy had the farm and that was mortgaged, an' we was poor enough, I tell ye. But we rubbed an scrubbed aloug. Me an' ma was smart, an' not a bit afraid o' work, an' we wouldn't ha' minded uothin' at all if it hadn't, been lor Prissy—Priscilly her name was. She was the baby, yo see, flvo year younger'n me, an' Jest as different as—as a rosobud from a cabbage.

I can't tell ye how pritty she was—so soft aa' white an' clean an' sweet, with yeller hair an' big blue eyes an'pink cheeks an' little white teeth showln' when she laffed: an' she was so spry an' little, an* she'd dance round like a robin an' sing just like one too, an' when she laiferi, wuv, 'twas the rlnhjeist, tinkleist, Viubbleist* kind ot a noise, like Shiner Brook goln' over tbo steppiu' stuns. She bad suou coaxln' little ways, ye couldn't no more say 'no' to her than—than nothin'. 'Oh! how ma an' mo sot by that little gal! she warn't very strong an' we'd never havo her do mach work. We sent ber to school, an' w© got her pritty clo'es, an' let her keep her hands sort *n' white. There warn't nothln' we wouldn't do for her. An' she was wuth It, too. There warn't no spilin' her. She was sweet all the way through she'd beg us not to do so much for her, and she'd try to make me wear ber nice clo'es an' her blue ribbons an' when she

went out to visit the big folks—tor they took a deal o' notice ou her—she'd altera luring homo suthln' nice to mean' ma. •Well, Prissy got to be nigh on to /eighteen, an' she toad a lot o* beaux, an' '•Menty o' good honest fellow* would ha' „sn glad an' prond to marry her, though she hadn't a bit o» money, she was that •ritty an' sweet an' cute. But she didn'tsomehow take to none on 'em she was gentle an'sweet spoken to *em, an'awful sorry when she thought she'd hurt their feelin's. But she says to me, many'»the time: "But I don't want to marry »em.

Eunice, an' why don't they let uie alone? I want to stay with you an' ma," says she.

But blmeby there cornea a young mats to WellsvlHe, an' boarded at Miss Cap'n Hall's. He was a tlshin* an' shootin* feller had a great lot o' bagg*gt»—fish pie, that ail took to pieces anr shet np, an" a gun, an' bags to pu* hie birds in when be shot 'em, an' baskets to bold bis shiners an' puukin seeds an' bull fcead*. He was a real well

favored

young man, an* nice mannered an* Prissy she got acquainted with him one day when she went to see Creeshy Hall, *nr she took to blm powerful, an' he lest tailored ber aroun' like ber shadder, [V like Mary's lamb in the hymn, an' I never see any one set no much by another as beseemed to wet by our Prissy.

Wa'al, of coarse I ooaldnl abet myeves (to it: an' so I went to Miss Cap'n ITall's ran' I asked all about thfflr new hoarder— Ibis name was Rice, Arnold Rloe—an' she told me be b'tovged to a real good reepeet*ble family in Providence. His fctber was a lawyer, an' Miss Hall said abe'4 done sew in' for his folks, an' she

4be Baptist usurcn. an- mere warn't nothin' aly, or unewbln', or uuderban'ed I In any o' ibe tribe. So that settled me,

an* I jest give myself up to lookin' at that pritty pair an' watchln' their love story—a better one than any I ever read ilo a book. •It's a great while ago now, but some how I can see It as plain as print this mlnit He used to come walkin' borne with her o* tturamer artei noons, an' I'd set at the winder to watoh 'em—him so tall, an' dark oomplected an' strong an' bold looklu', au' her so little an' fair an* scary. He'd look down ou her with aeon a look in bineyes, seemed *s though be oould eat her right up an' she'd jeat give little bits o' peeks up at him, shy an' frightened like. Twaa a pritty sight anr 1 never got tired o' lookiu* at !(. I never asked Prissy no questions I knew she'd tell to* when she was ready.

Things had gone on so forabout all sum mer, when Cousin 'Was Bacon he writ a letter to ma, an' asked ber If she would take bis littie boy Moses an* keep him a spell His ma wsp weakly an' run down an* she couldn't a tan' much an' Mosey was a real boy, kltin' aroun' an' hollerin' an' stavin', an' made his ma most orary.

Well, ma an' me we talked Haver, an* we guessed we'd better have the young one come. Cousin 'Lias was a queer an' never had much to do with his folks. «e had a good deal o* money laid away, so 'twas thought, but he never give none away. Homsomever, bis wife was a real nice woman, an'a long suflTrin' one too, for she' bad a pritty hard row to hoe with 'Lias Bacon. 1 can tell ye, an' we felt tor ber, me an' ma. So we writ back tbat he mivht send the boy along, au' next week the little obap came. 'He was good enough, as boys go, but be was up to his capers, an* he most raised the roof o' the old farm house with bis noise au' bis didos. He was a littie feller, on'y about live years old, but, oh! how he oould yell an' screech! he ran sacked the bull house from girrit to bullar, an' there warn't notbin'be didn't peek an' pry into. He used to spend bours a playin' up in the attic under the rafters, an' he bid away his little belonging thore, an' he called it his '*oubbv bouse." "'Well, he'd been to ottr house nigh onto three weeks', when one day we got a letter from'Lias say in' that bis wife was real bad 'at she'd got some kind o' liver disease, an' thedoctors thojght she was dan'grous, so wouldn't me an' ma come over an' help nurse her? He said he guessed we needn't fetch Mosey, cause it might worry Harri't (that was his wife's name). So me an' ma we made our minds right up to go, an' we thought we'd take Prissy too, for some way it didn't look jest right to leave a young slip like tbat alone, an' shecourt in' too. 8j we toli her she' better put up her things an' come along, an' we'd get old Miss Talcott to stay to the farm an' look to Mosey while we was gone. Prissy didn't like the idee overmuch, but she was allers gentle an' easy an' willlu' to mind, an' so she got ready an' we went off. She contrived to see Arnold 'fore she went, an' she come in from her confab with him as red as a rose, mi' her eyes jest shinin' so I knew he'd Miid something sweet to her' an' everything was right. •When we got to 'Lias' we found Cousin Harri't pritty bad, an' we staid a week. Me an' ma liked it, for 'twas a change from farm work, an' we was doiu' good too, an' tbat allers make folks feel comfortable. But Priss she was humsick, an' I knew the reason why so

to set up an' se$ inings, soia ma we better be movln'. So we packed our duds an' said our says, an come off. 'Lias didn't say much, but then that was his way, an' I knew he felt thank ye, ma'am, if he didn't say so. An' Harri't she went on enough for both, 'bout how good we was, an' how she never'd a got up without ns, an' how she never could forgit, an' so on, an' so on. •Well, we come off, an' Prissy she brightened right straight np as soon as we got under way, an' she laffed an' chattered like a chippin' squirrel. When we got to the farm 'twas near sundown, but the old Yeller House looked real bright an' bum like, an' Priss she jumped out real spry, an' says she a clappin' her hands, 'Oh, I'm so glaW I'm to hum!' Old Miss Talcott sbe'd ben real trusty an' seen to things an' took good care o' Mosey. He come a runnin'up to see us, with his face just a' mess o' airt, an' bis white hair a stickin' through the holes in the straw bat that was bought jest bought afore we went away. He'd been a'ter tbo cows with Enock. Miss Talcott said he went ev'ry day, an* he'd took the awfullest shine to old Buttercup, the crumpled horn oow, an' he called her "Butty," an' said she was hls'n, an' he was a goin' to tako her hnm to show pa and ma. Prissy she run up stairs, an' I knew she was spruoin' up a bit in case somebody should drop in, an' a'ter a spell she carpe down with her blue print on, an' her hair all smooth an' shiny. But some* body didn't come, an' the blue print was a'l for nothin'. 'The next mornin' Creesby Hall went by the house, an' I was In the y&rd. She see me, an' she stopped an' asked me 'bout Cousin Harri't, an' then says she. "Queer 'bout Arnold Rice, ain't H?" an' says I, "What 'bout blm?" An'says she, "why, he's gone off, an' never said nothln', or let on that be was goin* till tbe last minlt. an* things looked real bad." Then sne went on to tell how she au' Miss Hall they was out Friday a'ternoon to "paratory lecture," an* when they come home Arnold Rice warn't there, but be left a scrap of a letter tellln' 'em be bad to go off sadden an' be'd write as soon as he oould. "But be ain't never writ again," she says,"an' folks see him go off in the cars with a woman, an' he kissed ber when they fast met an' some people thinks she was bis wife, an'—" •She was a goln' on very glib, when I beerd a little ruatlin' sound ahind me, an' looked aroun quick, an' there was my UUle Prissy a slippln' down into a limp heap on the floor, right by my side, with ber little ban's a boldln* to m^

drece. I knew she beerd It all, an took ber up an' carried ber into the settin* room an' pat her on tbe sofy, an' I shfo out Creesby Hall an' all tbe world but me an* ma, an' we took care of oar poor little l*mb. 'She warn't the kind that bears ap under secb things. She had'nt much sperritt, I s'poee. She was jest a soft, lovin* clingiu' little thing, an' she give right up now. Hours an' boars she'd lay an' cry, cry, cry, all to her own self, very soitly, till I thought it would break my heart. We never beerd nothln' more of Arnold Rice. I s'pose—I've thought so senoe. time an' lime agis— tbat we ought to ha' writ to his folks or sotbin' but Prissy die give right up her.self, an' we kind o' foliered ber lead an* never thought thing* could be helped. She never would have him blamed. If me an' ma said anything him—an' we eonldnt help ft sometimes, we sot so riled «»—she'd cry harder, an* say, "Don't! don't! I cant bear It. He's only changed his mind, an' I love him Jest aa mach." Oh. how tbin an'peaked aa* scrawny that little cretur did git! her fece so white an* small, whiter an' littler ev'ry day. But ber eyes was the wust. She cried so much that they was allers red an' swelled ap, an' the blue

TBRRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL

seemed to wash all out on 'em. An' blmeby (bey hurt so she bad to aet in a dark room all tbe time, au' eouldn't bear tbe teentyeat speck o' light. We seut for old Dr. Terry an' be looked at ber, an' felt on ber, an' talked to her an' then be come out of the room, an' he beokoned to me an' we went in the kitcnen, an' says he to toe: "Her eyes is very bad, an' she cugbt to go to a eye doctor to Bi«t'n. 1 don't know enough myself," says he, "'bout sech things, an' there ain't no time to be lost." An' be tried to explain things to me, bow tbe optercles or sutbin waa all askew an' out o' kilter, but I didn't pay much 'tention to that part of it, I waa so took up with thiukin' bow we oould send her to Bost'n. I knowed 'twould cost a niint o' money, an' we was poor enongb ye know. 1 talked it all over with ma. an' we cried a little, an' prayed a good'deal, au' blmeby it come tula our beads to try Cousin 'Lias. •We hadn't no great hopes, hut we writ him a letter, an' we telled him all bout Prissy, an asked him it heoouldn't

fifty dollar bill in it. You'd better b'l'eve we was glad that day, me an' ma. We hadd't telled Prissy auytbing 'bout what the dootor'd said but uow we went to ber an' we out with tbe whole story, an' showed ber the money. But it did'nt. brighten up the little white mite of a faoe or make tbo old laff come we missed so dreadful bad. Sbe o'ny kiud o' sighed, an' says, "I don't care for my eyes now, but» if yeu want me to be cured, I'll do anything for you an' Eunice, ma you're so good to your little pfiss 1" 'Well, we took the iifty dollar tote an' we put it into Prissy'a work box, an' we made up our minds we'd start right off tbe nex' day but one for Bost'n to see the eye doctor. Tbat was in the mornin' 'bout ten o'clock. I ree'leot a'ter I put tbe mouey In tbo work box an' stood it on tbe bureau in ma's bedroom, I went out-to tbe kitchen to :nake some blaokb'ry pies, an' rollin' crust an' greasin' my pans I was a tblnkin' o' that money an' an* the Bost'n doctor. I never can smell stewed blackb'ries to this this day, much more to see a pie With the black lookin'juice a soozin' out through tbe yeller crust, 'thout tblnkin' o' that day, o' little Prissy, an' the fifty dollar note. "Twaa that eveuin' me an* ma was settln' in tbe keepin' room, an' Prissy a layin' down on the sofy, when ma she says, "Eunioe, I 'most can't b'l'eve its true 'bout 'Lias's sendin' that money. He's a near man, 'Lias is, an' it's like pullin' his teeth to git money oat o' him. Do bring me that note, an' make it seem kind o' real." I laffed a little, an' says I, "Well, ma, seeln'a b'l'evln,' an' I went to the bureau in tbe nex' room, an* opened the work box to take out tbe note but twaren't there! 'I turned over tbe things, the spools an' reels an' needles an' wax I opened tbe little boxes, an' lifted tbe lids, an' looked, an' looked, an' looked. But it warn't there. "Ma." I called out, kind o' quick an' sharp like, "have you took tbat money?" "Took the money!" says ma, a gittin' up an' comin' into the bedroom* "What do you mean, Eunice "Why,', says I, all out o' breath an' pointin' to tbe mussed up work box. "I mean tbe money's gone—Prissy's money." '"It can't be," says ma. "You never could find anything 'cept it was right under your nose," says she but ber voice was kind o' quavery, an' ber hands shook as sbe turned over tbe things in the box an' hustled 'em out on tbe bureau. It didn't do no good tbe note was gone. 'At fust we couldn't do nothing but mourn an' lament an' run aroun' like crazy folks but bimeby we thought o' little Mosey. "Tbat boy's took it," said ma "I knowed it all the time an' she run out into tbo kitchen an* ketched up Mosey, who was layin' on the floor with tbe dog, an' she shook him one way and then tbe t'other, an' fetched him into the bedroom, an' she an' me, both to once, we says, "What have yon gone and done with dear Cousin Prissy's money An' Mosey he yelled an' screeched an' kicked an' scratched an' bit, an' we couldn't git notbin out on him, till Prissy she called him (he allers took to Prissy—I don't know who didn't), an' be went up to her an' laid his head down on her lap, an' he says, "Mosey never took no mon»y. Mosey good boy. On'y took pritty paper out of Pwissy's box." Me an' ma was just goin' to up an' speak agin, but Prissy sbe shook ber bead at us, an' says sbe, very soft an' sweet, a strockin' his mop o' yeller frizzy hair, "An' what did Mosey do with the pritty paper?" "Mosey give it to Butty, poo1 ole mooly cow. All et ap now, down in Butty's tummy. •Ob, young people, young people, if you on'y knowed now I felt then I see it all afore me, how tbat limb o' a boy bad gone an' got that predtbtis bill—tbe bill tbat was give back Prissy's blue bright eyes that tbe sight was leavln' so fast an' bow he'd took It out to tbe barnyard to play with, an' then tucked it into old Buttercup's mouth, an' It bad gone, gone, gono! I can't rcc'lect any more 'bout that night it's too dark an' dreadful to think of. An' tbe days tbat come nex', tbey was all eadful too. We couldn't git no light we dassn't ask Couis 'Lias for more money, though it was his own flesh an' blood tbat bad lost tbe bill be sent us* an' Prissy's eyes got wuss, an' sbe oould n't see much to speak of, an' we was way, way down in tbe deeps. Prissy sbe was sweet an' patient. Sbe see we was cross to Mosey —we couldn't help it, could we now T— and so she made it up to him by cosseting and ouddling him, and keeping him with her hours to a time and he took to her more and more, and it was a real cute sight to see him carted up on the sofy by ber side, his fat red hand apresung up to ber white thin boa, and his little browb band a Stroking ber hair, and him a calling her "Dee-e*ear Pwissy,, pwltty Pwlssy, mine ownydoney Pwlsey.'* •One day I was sittin' in tbe kitchen peelin' spplos for a nan dowdy, an' a-l!steninr to Priss an' Mosey the nex' room. He was an' be called

ey1In

mighty lovin' that day, ber all tbe cannin'est

iy sbe up and boat out a crying

and she saya, "Ob, Mosey! Mosey! don't never, never call me yonr darling sgaln," says she. And I knowed then she was thinking of Arnold Rice, and what names he used to call her, and I tell you 1 thought of a few names I'd llke'to call him And I was a going to

3[saying,

bat I

see If 1 oould comfort her an]

"Don't ky, dont ky Mosey git 'oo pwiuy thingsand be slipped down off the sofy and went a running ap stairs. •So I says to myself, •Hels tbe beat ater all, lie's little, and she don't mind blm, and bets got sech cunning little ways, it helps her poor sore little heart.' So I kept where I was, and I beerd Mosey a coming down tbe stairs, a stomping as usual with his little cow* hide boots he was so proud on and he eettte into the keeping room and he kept making a kind of mooing noise.

•Moo o,' says he 'here old oow oomlng, Pwlssy aud then they goes to talking, and says she. 'Where did you get this? I ain't seeu Itsence I was a girl.' And says he, 'in my cubby bouse up stairs. This ole Butty, poor mooly oow.' Then I beerd a kind of rustling noise, and tben a rustling like paper, and then nothing at all for a minit, when sudden there come a kind or cry, such a queer sharp, but abaky ery tbat I dropped my knile and tbe applea and run inio the next room, and—Well, this is the tirat thing I saw.'

Uurolling a large silk bandkerobief Cousin Eunioe placed upon tbe table, around which we crowded at once, a

fiiece

of pottery. It was a creamer of be old marblod or tortoise shell ware in the form of a oow, its curled tall making tbe handle, its nose tbe spout. •This cream pot,' went On the old lady, 'bad been in our family a good spell, but It got put away, and I hadn't seen It no more than Prissy bad for a long time. It was a setting on tbe little stand by tbe aofy now, and right by it, alt mussed up and crumpled, wca Cousin 'Lias's fifty dollar note. I ketohed it up, I smoothed it out, I forgot little Priss. it was hull, it wa* there ail safe and sound, and I could baveojied witb joy. But I beerd a batf sob, a kind or choking sound, and ,1 looked around at tbe little sister whose eyes would now be saved to me an' ma. 'She warn't looking at the note, warn't looking at me, sbe warn't thinking, I'd had bet, of anything short ot a

heaven and everlasting day. Sbe lay smiling sech a smile, and a boldlr

close up to her poor half blind eyes some pieces of paper I couldn't make nothing on.

What ails ye?' I says, frightened like •what have ye got, Prissy •Sbe held the paper oat to me, ah tored and creasy, and sbe says a laffing right out like a bird,

Bays

the, 'He writ

it, Arnold did, my own true, good Arnold did, tbe very date he went off. See, it says 'the 28:b,' and tbat wa»* tbe time, you know, and he loved mo all tbe same.' '1 pieced out the scraps and spelled out the words—bow on airtb did she ever do it witb ber poor red eyes?—and it reely was a note Arnold Rice had writ the day be went off, saying he was called home to bis father, who was took witb typber fever, and bow be'd got to go tbat very honr in tbe train with his sister, who was going through from Boston, and how be loved her, and would sbe, and could sbe, and when would she write to him, and—Ob, I can't recollect it all it was jest a real love letter, ye know. And ob, sech a time. Ma oome in, and we tried to tell ber, and we all talked to once, and Mosey he undertook tq say as bow be fed old Butty with 'pwitty papers in her little tummy.' He rolled 'em up and tucked 'em into the hole ia tbe top here —yosee tbe lid lifts off when be was a talking of old Butty, the mooly cow, he meant this old cream p\t he'd got bid away up garritt, and not'old Buttercup in the barn yard. 'Weil, we laffed and we cried, and we kissed each other, and we bugged Mosey and Prissy, ber pretty face all smiles and light, she kept a saying over and over agin, 'I knowed he loved me I knowed it all the time.' Poor little cretur! what bad she cried ber eyes out for, if she knowed tbat, I'd like to know But jest as we was going on in a crazy, loony kind of way, like cats in caniption fits, the side door opened, and in flew Miss Cap'n Hall. She didn't seem to take no notice of our goings on. Her face was red, and she was tbat out of breath she couldn't hardly speak, and says she, a gasping and choking: 'Ob, Miss Wilcox! Oh. Eunice! Oh! Priscilly! I got a letter from Providence from Mr. Arnold's ma. And he's ben sick—awful sick he took tbe fever from bis pa, and he's been dangerous, and she's writ to say he's settin up, ana jest as soon as he can travel he's coming to Weilsville, where—jest hark to this, Priscilly, you poor little weed, you where, says bis ma, be seems ter've left bis heart. Who's got his heart, Prissy, you dear, blessed, abused, eicblv little

But we didn't ketch the last words, because of the hearty smacks she put on Priss's thin cheeks, as sbe hugged and squeezed her to her honest old heart. Sbe was allers a good soul, Mary Ann Hall. •But bow I am spinning this out! 'Fore we got fixed up for Boston, tbe red eyes got better, and old Dr. Terry be said be guessed he'd wait, if be was us, and see if Priss didn't git well herself without au eye doctor and sure enough sbe did, and by the time Arnold Rice come on from Providence the eyes was jest violets agin, blue and sweet and soft. And we sent tbe fifty dollar note back to Cousin 'Lias but it come traveling back agin, directed to Miss Priscilly Wilcox, for a wedding present. For there was a wedding that very fall, and Mosey bad a bran new butternut suit of clones to wear to it, and stood right up by tbe bride, a snuggling his yeller bead agin ber, till old Parson Cook Bald, 'What God's jined together let no man put asunder,' and Prissy was Miss Arnold Kice. 'Well. Parson Cook he altera said—I've heerd him time and agin—tbat it was a wonderful Providence all I ben telling ye, an Interposition, yo know, particular 'bout tbe finding tbe letter and tbe money in the old cream. But somehow 1 never oould make It seem that way, though I don't throw no disrespect on Providence. Ye see, what waa tbe use of tbat kind of interposition jest tben? If Mosey badnt fetched that crockery cdw down, and tbe letter turned up, why, Miss Csp'n Hall would have ben in in a jlffv ana set things all right and if she nadn't oome, why Arnold bisself would have been there in a few days, and then It would have ben all right. But tben you may say, •Well, bat there's tbe money, bow 'bout that?' Well, what was tbe use of tbe money, as long ss Prissy's eyes got well without it I dono—I don't like to criticise, but it seems ss If it might have been fixed different, and the oow found before we all tuckered out with worry and trouble, stead of turning up wben we didn't need her to set things straight. But 1 suppose it's all right tennerate, It's all gone and passed and 'little Prissy's' got a grand son—her son Jabes's youngest boy—tbat looks tbe very picture of little Mosey, yellow hair and all, and I'm saving ap this dream pot for him.'

THE PEOPLE WANT PROOF. There is no medicine prescribed by physicians, or sold by druggists, tbat carries such evidence of its success and superior virtues as Bosebee's German Syrup for severe Coughs, Golds settled on the breast, Consumption, or any disease of the Throat and Longs. A proof of that fact is that any person afflicted, can get a sample bottle for 10 cents ana try its superior effect before baying tbe regular wse for 75 cents. It has lately been introduced in tbis country from Germany, and its wonderful cores are astonishing everyone that use it. Three doees will relieve any case. Try if.

For sale by Gulick A Berry and by Groves A Lowry.

BrankH Nlaff.

How man? children and women are slowly and surely dying, or rather being killed, by excessive doctoring, or tbe daily use or some drug or drunken atuff called medicine, that no one knows what it is made of, who can easily be cured and saved by Hop Bitters, made of Hops, Bucbu, Mandrake, Dandelion, which is so

fiure,woman,and

simple barmleastbat tbe most rail weakest in valid or smallest child can trust in them. Will you be saved by them See other oolumo.

Baekles'a Arnica Naive. Tbe Bvrr SALVEin tbe world for Cuts, Bruises, Sores, Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, snd all kinds of Skin Etuplions. Tbis 8alve is guaranteed to give perfect aatisfaction in every case or money refunded. Price 25 cents per box. For sale by GULICK A BERRY, Terre Haute.

CJe8 8m)

POROUS PLASTERS. BENSON'S CAPCINE

POROUS PIASTER

18 THjii BJSttT KIND. Tbis remarkable article contains all tbe valuable qualities or the slow acting lommou porous plainer ami in addition aw entirely new combination of active vegeta ble ingredients from which it derives its wonderful pain reiievlng, strengUuuing, and curatlv** properties. It relieves pain a:most Immediately, and cuxes where otber pasters will not even relieve. The manufacturers of Benson's Capclne Porous Plas ters were awarded tbe highest and only medal of merit given for plasters at the Centennial 1876. Your famUy physician will confirm our statement regarding Its great raei it. For Lame and Weak Back, Kidney Disease, Rheumatism, Stubborn and Neglected Colds, Lang and Chest Difflcul ties, tbe Lameness aud Weakness peculiar to Women, Nervous Affections of the Heart, Chills and Fever, Sciatica and Lumbago, Diseases of Children, such as Whooping Cougb, Coltls and Croup (when applied In its early stagee), and all Local Aches and Pains of Young or Old. It Is Simply ths Brat Kemtdy Ever ievised or Known.

BENSON'S

Capcine Porous Plaster

There is no other remedy so well adapted for the above class of ailments. No other remedy contains the same combination of medical ingredients. Benson's Capcine Porous Planter is jKsitively far superior to common porous plasters, and to aUoth^r external remedies, including liniments, and the so called electrical appliances. Its powerful influence is felt almost at the first moment of application. It gives relief, comfort, rength and life to theaffllcted. It is neat and convenient, also pleasant to wear, as it creates mer-]y a sensation of gentle and stimu atlEg warmth.

CAUTION.

There are frandulentand worthless imitations of Benson's Capcine Porons Plaster in the market. One in particular, having a similar sounding name, contains lead poisons. Each genuine Benson's Capcine Plaster has the word Capcine spelled C-A-P-C-l-N E. Takenoother. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS. PRICE25c.

CLIFFORD'S FEBRIFUGE

FEVEMUIE

ERADICATES AIL MAJLAMAL rnagaaM flmathi SYSTEM. J. C. RIOHARDSONiPTOPm twfor Sale by All Druggist*. BT. LOP13»

Sick Headachei

CARTERS

Positively Ctirad by these Little Pills. They also Alio vol Pistross from Jy»|XT-| ftin, Indigestion amll Toa Hearty Kntinn. I

perfect nM«ly

«st and enslest to take.

FORI

Dizziness, N its a, I Drowsin«"w«,Bad Taste ill the Mouth, Coated! ToitKtie, l'»ln 111 the! Side. Ac. Thoy rrj{U-[ lst tho Bowels nii«l I prevent Constipation! anil lite*. Only on*

PILLS.

TThesnmii-I|lnw.a4»IH

ly ...

0 in a rial. Purely Vegetable. Price 35 Ccuts. Sold by all Druggists. CARTER MEDICINE CO., Pmp'rs, EHe, P«.

Five Vlala by m»tl for one dollar.

THE FRIEND OF ALL!

HOLLOWAY'S PILLS.

These famous Pills PURIFY the BLOOr, and act most powerfully, yet soothingly, on tbe LIVER, STOMACH, KIDNEYS and BOWELS, giving TONE, ENERGY and vigor to the whole system. They are wonderfully efficacious in all ailments Incidental to FEMALES, Young or Old, and ass general FAMILY MEDICINE, for tbe cure of most complaints, they are unequalled.

IMPORTART CAUTIOS.—Noneare genuine unless the signature of 1. HAYDUCK,

agent for the United States, surrounds each box of Pills and Ointment. Boxes at SB cents, 02cents and tl each. •arThere is considerable saving by taking the lanrer slses.

HOLLO WAY A CO., New York.

A CURE FOR ALL!!

Holloway's Ointment.

Possessed ot this REMEDY, Every Man may be bis own Doctor. It may be rubbed Into the system, so ss to reach any internal complaint by these mean*, it cores .Sores or Ulcers in the THROAT, STOMACH, LIVER. SIDE, or other pacts, it is sn In« fjdllble Remedy for BAD LEGS, BA» BREASTS, Contracted or Stiff Joints GOUT, RHEUMATISM, and oil £kln Din-

IMPUKTAST CAirtlds^-None are genuine unless the signature of J. HAYDOCK, as a-eat fsr he United States, surrounds each box cf Plils and Ointment. Boxes at 31 cents, 63 cents and ti each. •ar rhere i« considerable saving by taxing the lamer si zrs. flOLLO WAY A CO., New York. AAA a week in yonr own town. Terms BOO and 95outfit free. Address M. HAL* LETT & CO., Portland, Maine.

THE 8UN FJR 1879TUB

SCN will

year to come. Its pur_ the same as in the past.

new* in a readable shspe, and to tell the truth though the heavens fall. THE SUN has been. Is, ar.,! will contlsue to

While the lessons of the past should be constantly kept bt fore the people,'TUB Sun does not propose to make itseu in 1879 a wiagarine sn women

•t propose cient history. It is printed for the men and nnen of to-day: whoce concern is chiefly with be affitirs of to-day.* It has both tbe disposition and ability to afford its readers the promptest) fullest and most accurate intelligence of whaever in the wide world is worth attention. this end the resources belonging to well estab llsbed prosperity will be liberally employed.

We have the means of making The Sun ast» political, a literary and a general newspaper,

The Sunday dition of The Sun is also furnished sen ar&telyat fl V0 a year, postage paid. Tho pncco/ The Weekly San, eight pages, fifty-six columns, is $ 1 a year, portage paid. For clubs of ten sending $10 we win send an extra copy free Address I W. ENGLAKI,

SUBE^

jgfssss 8®SM!8fB8SW,»? 1 i.^sucnsli-oiu tlis* worst Scroftda to a cormnfljig, t. I'ltmlc, En»i»tlo». Mercurial rtlwasf*' r-. oifiir.p. nn'l tlioir effects, arc eradicated.-j.-iii-nii lu .-tKli nl a sound constitution estan--1! i't i:rr«iplws Salt^hcam, Fcrcr Sore* Scajy .!• Kowcii MJo, in eliorf. nil diseases caused by biwl .i, iiiv coi.-juvrol by tills powerful, purifying, an*

I or ii :t ci:iliy manlf.wtcd Its potency in enring^ I ll.r, UOM.-liaiit

piSI

every day durii and method To present all

I.'atk, Bulb, tturbniieloa, Swre

rululoua ftflrce and Sirelllnce, White BwcUIBfl^p Uottru or Thick Ncck, uml Enlaravd Blanda. If vf»" fill di:M. ilvowyy, clel.llltatol, liave sallows .. of kUin. «r vt iliiwWi-brown spots oil fure of. frequent hradtii !io or ilUzlness, bad tns'.e It*, iuuTunl liont or chills alternated with not r.i, N'-.low S-Jtirlfs, Bin! plooniy forebodings,irregular tin-, nii'i toiipttv roateU. you are sniferlftg rronj TWp'd Liver, or BUfooMMM*." In many ruses oC

Liv. am plaint" miy part uf these symptoms ar«t

-IK

rit nf!. A« a remedy for i.U suili coses, IrI'irn cV (foMcn Medial 'jfacovery has no ryjnal, a* it rflfcrw perfect mill ravlieal cures. ,, 1st tin- cure of Hrwncfcltfe, Sever* Cough*, snd llxr ilV of Consumption, it ir.is a»tociMied tlKtv iflc:«t la' ultv. .mil eminent physicians pronounrie ii the irreaUst i»ellcal discovery of the ajre. )i|!« ii *f.. ....... u.«l /'". If at r&ntftluina tllf)

PELLETS. OO

ttoa. totalis, fryrof t!»-««• ape

independent of everybody and everything

KSVB

Uie troth and its own convictions of duty. That is the only uolley which au honest newspaper need have. That is the policy which hd* won for tbis newspaper the CO' ndenco and [j friendship of a wider constituency than whs ever enjoyed by any other American Journal. mb tiujt is tne newspaper for the people. It l~ is not for tbo rich man against the poor man. or for the itoor man against the rich

MM.

but

seeks to do eqnol Justice to all interests in tbe community. It is not the oifsn of any penon, class, sect or party. There need be no mystery about its lores and hates. It is for tbe honest, man Against the rogue every tiro*. II ia for tlu?

honest Democrat ss against the dishorn st Republican, and for tb« honest Republican & •gainst the dishonest Demociat. It docs not take its cue from the utterances of any politician or political organization. It gives its sup- import unreservedly wheu men or measurw are in agreement with the constitution and with the principle upon which this Republic way rounded for the people. Whenever the const*mtion and constitutional principles are olateo -as in tbe outrageous conspiracy of ltf76 by which a man not elected was placed in th*i president's office, where he stfll remains—it speaks out for the right. That Is the Idea uf Independence. In tbis respcctthere will

be no change In tbe programme for 1S79. THKSCN has fairly earned tbe hearty hatred of rascals, frauds, and humbugs of all sorts and sixes. It hopes to deserve that hatred not les» in he year 1879, than in 1S78.1877, or an* year gone by. TheStJNwi continue to shine on the wicked with unmitigated brlghtnecs.

?f£

The present disjointed condition of parties in this country, ana the uncertainty of the future, lend an extraordinary significance to the events erf the coming year. The discussions of the presn, the debates and acta of congress, and the movements of the leaders in every section of the republic will have a direct bearing upon •", the presidential election of 1S80—an qveni which must be regarded with the most anxious interest by every patriotic American, whatever his political ideas or allegiance. To those elements of interest may be added the probability that tbe Democrats will control both houses ot ,,, congress, the increasing feebleness of 'he fraudulent administration, and the spread and strengthening everywbeie of a healthy abhor uce of fraud in any form. To present with at cur«cy and clearness the exact situation in each of its varying phases, and to expound, according to its well-known methods, .the prinolples rt. tbatshould guide us through the labyrinth, wil be an important part of The Sun's work for 1£79.

•V

more entertaining and more useful than ever o-y before and we mean to apply them freely. Our rate-of subscription remains unchanged, For The Daily Sun, a four page sheet of twentyeight columns, the price by mail, postpaid, if

P1'"''

55 cents a month, or 96 50 a year or. incuding *t( the Sunday paper, an eight page sheet of fiftysix column*, the price is 65 cents a month, or 7 70 a year, postage paid.

rW*

Publisher of The 8un,Now York Cltj^

REMEDY FCR BALDNESS Prescription Pre* to "y 111 (rreo to pay iSBS ,Whisker* or Mustaches

SI. wh»» a newirrowtb otHklr,

moo who wU

Kl.whm• newirrowtbol"H»lr,Whl»k»rt— ..... Actually prodnoml. srtls* Baadanon ft Co., 8 Clinton Ksoe, K«w Tack.

H-

SVBn'nS

evus&sjr

THE'

CATHM^C—

-.n w-nr '1 of cin" !». *"'1 lnjrr. nt*. I't 11 •. nr.'a crr'Ir taraer tti«r« ma-turd .winTtvlille urli* tW. V- V.v I'nrt.illi I" lt:0 '-L Wj*'-.f.g Mr -.•or JannJk-0 tUtMU.hr, WmmI. rain In Ifce Itlr.zlncw. *e«r I toil one

f"!mhr«l»l»m

Twi. iw Alovffc, I.Laor

«k.tr

Ii# a^lneUiird in'jrlnMhoitle-C Uu-ir vli tms 1* su* thereby nrX li ngth of time. In any iliat on* -»lnay« ftmli ami reliable* This I' tn»» the riilts put up la cliej.it knr ail !leca»et t*tw rc a Parcatlre, Is twtle*te1. these lIMj-

kTHTOtV- r* ««nr and larall ls'Hotel, liul'i". A...

rvsuTt v*

uxr* DBMS nrocous, ptirul*

die at ne !in.i. DR. SAGE'S CATARRH HEHEDY

went yet lnvt«i-» i»'8 CARRIE IIIOH IT M(U of the i. brrn or nleatliMf Ifc

pieaaaat

i-.--

CATARRH

_v.Mil If'.'.'i-

..naii.iuti'roiU .. w.iSs jr, tlitos

p.......

In ntlK r«, a drynew, dry **t» ry, eyes. $*optAnfi W rartlr*.». 'c t- rinsrlnx In ears. ijjc nmraL trtw raHia*.*-lia^-tf,

ffce baif»

I4H. in whlJ

It trwi^nt. Ir. C' ititaH! of

acrnmpany tarrh MuhI laf It**. WIU s'Mwwwr

«S. nmuwu.r t:» '.riV.drujr1

H. V. I*i«W f. M. fv.

,r"'" U1#"

•SsSarv V.

S3300m^M£