Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 11, Number 4, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 24 July 1880 — Page 6
iliiisil
THE MAIL
A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.
OUR MI SISTER'S SERMON,
Theltt in inter Raid las', sight, rays be: "Don't be afraid «t gtvln' If your iife ain't worth nothln' to other foJlUi,
Why what's the use of livln'?" And thai'* what 1 say to my wife, says I, •'There'sBrown, themlserablnsinner, Ee'd sootier a beggar would starve than give
A cent toward buying a dinner." I tell yon oar minister is prime, he is, Bat I couldn't quite del ermine, When I heard him givln'it right an' left,
Jost who was hit by his sermon. Of course them couldn't be no mistake, When he talked of long-winded prayln'. For Peters and Johnson, they hat and scowled
At every word he was sayin'.
And the minister went on to say, "There's various kinds of cheatin'. And religion's as good for every day
As it Is to bring 10 meetin'. I don't think much of a man thit gives The loud amen* at my preachin', And sp nds his time, the following week,
In cheatin' and over-reach in'." I guess that dose was bitter enough For a man like Joues to swaller Bnt I noticed he didn't open his month,
Not once, after that, to holler Hurrah, says I, for the minister— Of course 1 said it quietGive him Horpe more ofthis open talk*
It's very refreshin' diet. The minister hit'em every time, And when he spoke of fash on. And riggin's out in bows and things,
As woman's rulin' passion. I And corn In' to church to see the styles, I couldn't he'n a wlukln' 5 And a nudgin' ray wife, and soys I, 'That's yon.'
And I guess It sot her thinkin*. Bays I to myself that sermon's pat, Jut ronn is a queer creation, ind I'm much alrald that most of the folks
Won't take the application. Wow if he had said one word about My peroneal mode of slnnin', x'd have gone to work to right
And not sit ther a grinuln'. ost then the minister said, says he, "And now I've come to the leJlers Who've lost this shower by usin' their friends
As a sort o' moral umbrellas. Oo home," says he, "and find your faults, Instead of huntln' your brother's, Qo home says he. "and wear the toals
You tried to lit
JOT
others."
My wife sin) nudged and Brown he winked, Ana there was iota »mllin' And lots o'lookiu' at our pew
It set my blood a bliin'. Bays I to myself, our minister Is getting a little bitter, III tell him when the meetin's out,
I ain't that kind ol a crlttcr. 4
Her Face Her Fortune.
A STORY OF ROMANCE AND MYSTKRY.
CHAPTER IX. WHO WAB HK
lfev
The bell tolled solemnly lrom the little church, which was almost hidden in the wooa thut bordered Albemarle Villa. Under the dripping rain the long procession of carriages passed slowly through the grand avenue, where the funeral plumes and the wet branches of the trees were alike beaten and tossed by the autumnal wind.
The dead leaves strewed the avenue along which Archibald Arnsdale went to his Inst renting place the dead leaves fluttered slowly downward from the glaut oaks—the noble old beeches the dead leaves were swept hither and thittier before the blast.
Those withered leaves, that shrieking wind, that dark autumnal sky seemed strangely appropriate to the dismal owl which had to be done that day.
As the carriage which bore the young widow passed out of the gates of Albemade, a man, who stood among the rent of the crowd was startled by the sight of that beautilul lace. 'Who is that woman sitting in yonder carriage?' be askod.
He was a man ol about medium size, dressed in rusty black, and there was a flided, withered appearance about him that made i*im look prematurely old. Hl» face was marked oy proiound detection like one wuose life has been one long uiislortuue. •She's Mr. Arnsdale's widow,'one of the bystauders answered. •His wtuow!' and the mau turned pale. 'Yes, strauger, his young widow she that was his daughter's governess. Why by Jovt! yo j're ill, ain't you?' «lf_n—no, only a very bad headache —a nervousuess that troubles me sometimes.' 'Isay, you don't know her, do yoof' 'No.' 'She's unknown abont these parts,' the man continued. 'Nobody knows who she was or where she ctrne from, exactly. And some say thut the old gentleman was not murdered, but that he repented bis marriage as smut as ever it was done and so threw himself into the ravine or his own accord. But for my part I can't •ay. He was always a little strange, thoufih, was Mr. Arnsdale—« kind o' curtous.'
No more was said. The tnan in black followed the procetwiou with the rest of tho crowd, first to the village church, where the iuneral service was read, and then to the family tomb in the cemetery. iQllt was while the crowd made a circle round this tomb that the stranger contrived to press his way to the front rank of the spectators. He had stood there but a moment when Isabelle happened to look where he was stationed.
A sudden change came over the face Of the widow. A dark shadow settled upon her brow and her cheek faded to marble whiteness.
No one observed either the man, or that sadden change or expression in Isabella's face. The moment was indeed a solemn one and even those who really did not feel its solemnity «ff i/.ed to do ao.
At the last instant, when the bronse doors of the tomb closed with a clanging sound upon the new inmate of UM dark abode, a cry. like a shriek wrong lrom the spirit or despair, broke from Isabelle's colorless lips, and in the next moment she had sank tainting upon the ground.
The hn**t* of the beholders were filled with sympathy and pity. She was indeed a true, devoted wife, they thought.
Guy Fenton lifted her up from, the ground and ^carried her uneonMfbas form to the carriage where he seated her and Laura batbe her temples with water, which one or those near by quickly brought. •Iam better now,' she said, opening her eyes and staring stoand aa if searching for some one "do not let my weakness trouble you* Laura, dear. 1 do not ftften faint but—hot that moment waa too bitter.* •Are yon really quite recovered, Belief Can we venture to have the carriage
So the mourners entered their respective carriages and the fnnerol procession moved homeward.
The will was to be read in the library that afternoon. For Guy, with Iaabelle's sanction, hsd sent for Mr. Edward Thornton, one of Mr. Arnsdale's friends in the law, to come and take charge of bis uncle's papers. The lawyer had arrived, and after a oareful search bad found this document securely put away in thesafe in the library.
The relatives and friends assembled at the appointed hoar to listen to the reading.
The widow sat calm and dignified on the right .band of Mr. Thornton, and beside her was Laura, while Guy Fenton leaned his back carelessly against the mantlepiece.
When all were quiet, Mr. Thornton, putting on his spectacles, opened the will and began to read.
Each one present listened attentively. First there came directions about paying all the deceased's just debts and funeral expenses. Then he appointed his esteemed friend, Edward Thornton, lawyer, of the city of New York, to be bis sole execntor. And next followed the bequests. The first was one of five thousand dollars to his nephew, Guy Fenton, to be paid as soon as the said executor could make it convenient and the second was the snm of ten thousand to his daughter, Laura, to be placed out in good bond and mortgage, and the interest accruing thereon to be paid her quarterly, or in any way it should seem best to said Edward Thornton, his executor. The principal, with whatever interest there might be, to be paid over to his ssid daughter upon her marriage. And lately, be gave and bequeathed to bis beloved wife, Isabelle,all his estates real, leases, chattels, tn ney, rights, interest, plate, pictures, and estates and possessions whatsoever, not therein before beqeatbed, to have and to bold unconditionally.
As the lawyer read this last bequest, loudly and distinctly, every eye was directed to Isabelle. She seemed to be a little startled for a moment, and then bowing her head in Laura's lap she sobbed convulsively.
There was a deathlike stillness in the room for some seconds. •I—I do not deserve this kindness, Laura darling,' she murmured, without raising her head.
Laura did not reply at once, but sat looking steadily at the carpet as if in a trance, and then, at length, she bent down her head and whispered in Isabelle's ear: •It is right, Belle! You were his wife be loved you, and so will I.'
Unsuspecting little girl! So loving and loveable! So nnekilledin the knowledge or a wicked heart! Already ensnared in the invisible web which a mercenary siren had spread over her!
Mr. Thornton now gathered up the papers and began to make preparations to depart. His business was done for this time, and be was a man that never delayed lor ceremonies. He went op to Guy and extended his hand, and then bowing very low bid them all good-day. 'He would run up in a few days,' be said, 'and commence the neoessary proceedings for probation.'
After the congratulations, et cetera, that became the polite company present, there waa a general departure.
One, however, lingered, after all the others bad gone. It was Gny Fenton, He wanted to see his cousin alone and bid her good-by. For some reason that be could not quite fathom she had kept aloof lrom him for the past two or three day* and she was now undoubtedly attempting to avoid him 'Had she perceived bis passion ror Isabelle during bis former visit? and could she have learned that he bad been rash enough to make a proposal?' he asked himself.
He was walking to and fro on the veranda, waiting for the carriage to carry him to the depot.
That he had done wrong, that he had on one or two occasions rather Blighted bis fair cousin for her beautiful governess. be was well aware, and he was sorry and meant to sue for pardon before going away.
But Isabelle had foreseen this change in Guy's manner, and for some reason of her own desired that a reconciliation should not come about at once between this couple. So when the carriage stood before the door and Laura oame down stairs to meet Guy, she was waiting in the hall, and went out with her.
Guy Fenton was displeased when he saw this maneuver, for such he fancied it was. 'Good-by, Guy,' said Laura, timidly putting out her band and looking down. •I hope wo shall see you often, Mr. Fentou, said Isabelle. 'You know it will be very lonely—oh, very lonely for us here.'
That pleasant voice, that sad smilewas it genuine?' Guy could not understand her. •Thank you,' he answered, slowly, a strange nervousness playing round the corner of his mouth.
Isai'«* v* quick eye detected it, and as he put his loot on the step to enter the carriage she bent forward and laid her hand on his arm.
Laura, who bad turned ber head to bide her emotion, for she was thinking of the change that had taken place, did not see this action, it was done so qulckly. •Mr. Ff nton—Gny,' said Isabelle, In a low voice as be turned round, 'are to be enemies?' •1 don't think we shall be very fast friends,' he answered, coldly. •Be it so, then!' she said, defiantly.
It was only a moment of time and be sprung into the carriage and drove away.
White the driver kept the horsea on at goodispeed, Guy sat silent and thought earnestly about all that bad transpired in so short a space of time. And his love! It seemed like a dream from which he bad been auddenly awakened. It was not love it waa blind infatuation. Was Isabelle Arnsdale—bow queer the nana sounded—a good woman or an evil one? Guy Fenton could not settle in bis mind an answer to this question Bat there was one thing he waa sure of, that aho bad bad complete control over his uncle, which no other person ever k*1*'
CHAPTER X. AN OLD 1*0VJE.
September passed away and Ootober came in. cold and cheerless. paring the part month Gny Fenton had been working assiduously and had paid vary Uttie attention to anything ootatde of his lew business. It was not until one evening, when he sat alone in his office after the business of the day was over, that be again turned his mind bade to the past and thought of his unetot strange death.
He had never felt vary positive that it was a murder although the appearance or the body when found seeuaod to make It almost certain there bad been fool play. Bat these evidencee weighed as oothlnjt with Qny. For as to the wound on the" temple, that might have been done by owning in contact with some Iroek in the water, and the shirt stods won Id naturally have been torn oat by
TERRKI HAUTE SATURDAY JWlSISriJNG JMAi-L.
the first thing that the body acraped Againat- The little finger also could have been broken In some like manner. Yes, he was more thsn half inclined to believe that his ancle had purposely thrown himself into the ravine on that very day and got his papers arranged as the document itself showed by the date.
Guy leaned back in an antique arm chair before the fireplace and stared meditatively at the wails. Dingy walls they were, and one would never have dreamed that under theooat of dust and festoons of cobwebs there were rich paper hangings.
The rooms which Guy occupied for bis offices were old, and had seen many snerations ot lawyers come and go. liked their quaintnees, and had taken especial care to preserve their sober aspect. ..
A morning newspaper lay upon hia deakin which there was an advertisement under the bead of 'Rewards' that he had read several times during the day. He took it up and looked this column over until his eyes rested on the following: "12,000 Reward will be given to any terson detecting the passing of a fifty Jollar bill on the Manhattan Bank, No. 1101—or for information ooncerning the possessor of a heavy gold watch, donble cases, made by Tiffany & Co., New York, No. 201, with the initials 'A. A.' engraved on the inside of the cast opening on the face.
EDWARD THORNTON, No. Broadway."
It was this that had recalled Guy Fenton to the past. He knew this advertisement must have been inserted by the widow's directions to her Iswyer. The watch was bis uncle's, and the bank bill the coachman at Albemarle had sworn he knew to have been in Mr. Arnsdale's pocket on the fatal night, as be—the coachman—had seen bis pocketbook when be had paid him some money. 'So she hopes to obtain some trace of the murderer through these missing things? She means to revenge her busband's death? •Well, I may be wrong,' said Guy, getting up and commencing to walk to and fro. 'I may be wrong: perhaps my business is giving my nature a suspicious habit.'
He stopped at the window and
iOOked
out. There was nothing particular to see. It was only a dismal prospect of chimneys and blaokened walls. 'Yet it seems strange—only ten thousand dollars, and he worth so much!'
True, Guy Fenton, there are some things which Beem so strange to human wisdom that no one on earth will believe them, and which are yet the truth, only revealed to the unclouded eyes that look down from heaven. 'And my little love must be terribly jealous. I thoaght, If I stayed away, she would forgive me. But no, she has not answered my letter.' 'I will wait no longer—I must see her and tell her all. Yes, tel) all.'
And with these words he sat down to bis desk and wrote: •'MY DKAR LITTLE LOVB: I want to come up to Albemarle on ^Saturday. May I? I cannot stay away any longer. I know you will forgive me and forget the past when you know how dearly I love you, my darling. You will, won't you? I shall come. GUY."
And after addressing this note and dropping it into the letter box, Guy Fenton locked his office door and went home.
CHAPTER XI. A COMPACT.
Life bad passed rather quid&ly at Albemarle villa. Isabelle had been absent considerable of the time—and bad but just returned.
Laura remained there of oourse. She had never thought for a moment but what Albemarle was as much hers now as before ber father's death, although Isabelle bad token the opportunity once, when a few angry words passed between them, to bint as much as that It was not.
She lived a lonely life and was learning for the first time what It was to be really unhappy. Her fair young face had fairly lose its beautiful oolor and her pretty eyes their former brilliancy. For Laura possessed what, perhaps, is one of the most facinating attractions a woman can have—''laughing eyes.'
Isabelle Arnsdale did not not seem to Laura exaotly as Isabelle Evelyn had. Yet they walked together, and suag together, and read together, just as formerly and the people about Albemarle thought they were devoted to eaob other.
Laura had waited along time, hoping that Guy would come back to her, or send her just one little word and ask her to come to him. But her waiting was in vain. So she became weary and Bad, and would frequently st«*l away to her room and weep over his picture, which she valued as the most precious of her worldly possessions. The picture was a small one, painted en ivory, and enclosed in an enameled lecket that always hung suspended at ber throat. It had been taken when Guy was at college and looked youthful.
One day Laura ventured to send ber cousin a note. It was very short and only asked him to come and spend Sunday at the villa. She was a little proud and did not like to reveal too much to him at once.
An answer, however, never csme. •He loves isabelle yet, and has forgotten me,' she said after this. 'And he shall see that I, too, can forget him. He has Insulted me.'
Little did she imagine tbat her invita tion had never reached its destination. Thus did matters stand up to the time we are now aboat to mention.
It was a beautiful moonlit night, cold and clear. The hage trees stood oat in the mellow light like giant skeletons the rushing of the water down In the lonely ravine murmured, as it were, in the quiet midnight air, ita dismal tale.
Bark figure suddenly appeared upop «.„« footpath by the river's edge, and, after carefully reconnoitering, came up across the lawn to the villa.
There was only one light vialble in the house and this waa in tho drawing room.
The man—for such the figure crept along the window Mid looked in. There w*-» no one there hat Isabelle, and ahe was rocking back and forth in ber cbait. staring dreamily at the fire.
He knocked lightly upon the gl and die suited and looked around. She seemed to recognize the face peering in at her and immediately went to the window and raised it cautiously •Come In,' she whispered.
The man pat hia hand upon tho mil
With black
oveaT His dress waa elegM* and ap pawntly got up without reghrd to ex
you all alone ho asked, ner-
*oaaly« ss die closed the window and tarwed about. •Yes, quite.' ..
He helped himself to a cbair and began to warm his hands before the fire. •WelL what brings yon bare, Jem Laab Isabelle asked, attest amouioosly, sitting down in ber seat again.
Jem Lash looked at her curiously and gave a short, dry laagh. •What brings me here?' he said. 'Why do you ask tbat foolish question? Don't you know what brings me here? It'a for money, of coarse.' •, •Money!' •Yes, money! Wfiy didnVyou send it as agreed, and then I ahouldn't have troubled you with my company •Have you done your work, have you caught him in the snare yet?' she asked, eagerly. •No, I havent't caught him, and I can't find him. And, what's more, I don't believe I ever shall for it's a dead certainty that he was drowned and sent out with the tide.' •Fool! coward!' exclaimed Isabelle, with mingled soorn and anger, epringing from her chair. 'Ana you have abandoned your work you have oome here to waste your time, staring idly at the fire. I tell you he was net drowned but that he is a live and hunting me down like a bloodhound. Do you think my eyes ooald deceive me Why I saw him face to faoe at the faneral. You are a villian, Jem Lash but you area hypocrite. You would have the reward of guilt, and yet wear the mask of innocence, even before me, as if it were possible to deceive one.who has read the innermost secrets of your soul. I am tired of this trifling and to-night I ask you, for the last time, to choose the path which you mean to tread and once chosen to tread it with a firm step, prepared to meet danger, to confront destiny. Will you grovel on in povertyliving on the gambler's luck—or will you make yourself possessor of wealth Look me in the faoe, Jem Lash, as you are a man, and answer me. Which is it to be—wealth or poverty
Jem Lash cowered a little at this fiery speech and looked at the woman before him with awe. He thought he had never seen any one look so much like a fiend. 'It's too late to turn back,' he replied, in a gloomy and sullen tone 'the dead cannot be brought to life.' 'I am not speaking of the past,' she said, with a dark frown 'I am speaking of the future'
"Suppose I say that I will live on in „jverty rather than to plunge still deeper into the abyss of guilt—what then
•In tbat case I will bid you adieu* and leave you to your gambling and—a clear conscience,' she answered, with a mocking laugh.
4If
you do not care to grasp
the wealth which might be yours, neither do I care to preserve our acquaintance. So we have merely to bid each other good-night and part company."
There was a pause Jem Lash sat with his arms across his breast, his ey®8 fixed on the fire. Isabelle watched him with a sinister smile upon her face.
This man was a strange oo in pound of good and evil. He was weak and vacll.ating—one minute swayed by a good influence, a transient touch of penitence in the next given over entirely to bis own selfishness, thinking only of his own enjoyment. •And if I go on,' be said at last 'if I ehooseto tread further on the dark road, which I had trodden so long—can you insure success?' •Success? Why, there remains but two more steps and it is ours.' •Then I will go on. Yes, I will be your slave, your tool, your willing coadjutor in crime and treachery, anything but mind you!—one-half of the gains must be mine.' 'Enough! You have made your decision. Henceforth let me hear no more repinlnga, no regrets. And. now to bustriAfifl •Yes the plan.' •Well, first you will no longer doubt about having drowned the wrong man —for it's certain tbat you did but you mutit search out the living, and when you have found him you understand the rest of the progrnrame 'Certainly/ ,,
There will be very little trottble to find him. He has tracked me closely for the last month, and kept me going frem one city to another to evade him, but I have at last started him on a false scent.' •But won't he be dangerous even when entrapped!' •Not in the least. The evidence will be too strong against him for people to listen to any shallow story he may invent besides, he has no friends here to help him, and no money either.' 'What next, after this has been sccomlished? The other obstscle mast ie removed In the meanwhile.' •Yes, bat yoa msy leave her to me.' 'And this will be the last step?' •Then the estate and everything can be sold without creating ansplcion, and we will leave for Paria, where, if I can but onoe more step my foot, I will defy them all.' •Has this girl and her cousin met in a a •No, and they must not, at all hazards, until things sre settled. I Intercept all the letters between them, and I mean that be shall believe ahe is trying to avoid him, and so stay away and let us alone.' •Do you think be has any suspicion •No. But if he should see her—' •Hark!'
Some one was moving In the room
ab*iaite
haste—leave me now! You
know all •Yes.' And the next moment be terew himself out of the window and disappeared. [TO BB OONTIINJKD.]
A 002VD UCTOB'8 WOE.
A GENEROUS^ACT^ULTIMATELY BJS-
Mary Kyle Dallas.
•Fare, ma'am,' said the conductor. The passenger took no notice. She wss a shabby looking old woman, in rather ruaty looking black, with a frayed lace scarf around her neck, and an old fashioned, heavily worked lace veil fastened aboat her bonnet brim. •Fare!' repeated the conductor again.
The passenger looked at him, dipped ber hand into her pocket, rummaged in a queer little reticule ahe carried, and after exhausting all the patience of which a car conductor la supposed to be posaeesed, said, slowly: •I haven't got a penny, I suppose I've lost the change, or else I've hsd my pocket picked, and I'm going to street, too.'
There was a pause. The conductor looked *t the passenger and hesitated It waa a damp, misty evening. The streets were ankle deep with mire. It was three miles to street, and the car was not half full. It seemed only common humanity to permit an old woman to ride to her destination, whether she had ber fare or not. Bat there on the platform, staring through the door, oar conductor saw the tew of a car spy—a spotter, the men called him—who waa watching him with eager, green eyes, anxioaa to eatch him tri
were
hto place was, twenty man
waiting for 1^ Hia receipts most tally with tho nnmber of passeng recorded on the dial provided by 1 company tor that jmrpoafcor £went bis on Saturday cigbt. Still bo
could not pat the old woman off his car only one alternative remained—he ooald pay her fare.
Now a fare on the road was only five cents, butsixo'olock was coming and he was hungry, and the aapper he would have Just timo to snatch before his evening trips began, would cost him ten cents—five cents for bread and cheese, five cents for a cup of coffee. He gave up one of these if be paid tbat old woman's fare. You see there was another old woman whom he called graany to be cared for, and clothes of some sort must be worn, and there were no pennies to spare. But it was the memory of old Granny tbat rose in his heart as be dropped in the coin, touched the bell, and nodded 'all right' to his passenger and, as he stepped from his car to take a brief rest, he handed the old woman to the curbatone, and saw her safe upoa her way. •No, I don't want anything but the coffee,' he said, waving away the restaurant keeper's boy, aa he pressed the basket of rolls and sandwiches upon him. 'Take that stuff away!'
The bread waa out of reach before he felt quite aafe, he was so very, very hungry.
At that moment an old woman touched the car starter upon the arm. 'Tell me the name of the conductor on car number five?' she said. 'There he sits under the shed, drinking seme ooffee.' •That's Yarnham—Tom Varnham,' replied" the starter, rather eagerly, for he had a relative waiting for a place. 'If you have any complaint to make there the
office.'^Bttt the old woman toddled away. Oh, the long, long winter, cold and cruel—a winter full of terrible storms of snow and sleet. Two drivers on the line were badly froaen. Many died of lung complaints. The conductors suffered too, though not so terribly, and Granny nad been sick, and there was money to be apent lor medicine and nourishing luxuries, and Tom Yarnham's old great coat was stolen one night by a thief who made bis way into the crowded lodging house.
After tbat he went without it, and be often wondered what it would be to be warm, and sit at a satisfying meal. Life seemed very bard, but to give up that poor situation and seek for better was not to be thought of, with Granny on his hands.
The passengers who rode in car number five snubbed their conductor, took him to task for the inoonveniences they suffered, and abused him at their supper tables, as they sat before their warm grates, toasting their toes, while he shivered on the platform. Perhaps the shabby old woman with the worked lace veil may have done it also, for she rode in the car very often, though she never found herself sgsin without a fare. •What's the matter?' asked a passenger. •Three care ahead Btopped—some one hurt,' replied the other. 'What is it, conductor?' 'Conductor of namber five dropped down,' was the response. 'Some say he
CIOAC)*'
Tom Varuham Jay in the midst of a little orowd, quite senseless and very pale.
The men were talking about him. •He's been starving himself and freez ing, too,' said one. 'A siok old grand mother on bis hands and he was a clerk ©r something, never used to out of door work. I've seen this ooming for days.' •You are the dootor, sir,' asked a shabby old woman, laying ber hand on the arm of a gentleman who knelt beside poor Tom. The gentleman looked up. 'You said last week tbat I did not deservo to be called one, Madame Hover,' he Baid, demurely. 'Oh! Dr. Jones! Well, tbat was when you couldn't cure me of the neuralgia,' replied the old lady. 'But I want you to do something for me. Have this young man brought to my house he did me a favor once, and do your beBt for him, and send the bill to me.'
The dootor nodded, and when Tom Yarnham came to himself he lay in a great, old fashioned feather bed, in a room he bad never seen before, and the old woman whose fore he hsd paid rocked to and fro beside bis bed. •You are not to talk,' she said, waving a black fan at him, 'but everything is all right. Yoar grsndmotber's board is pal
„„.d to that rapacious old woman, and you needn't troable your mind about anything. Go to sleep. You went without yonr bread and butter to give me a ride onoe, and I shan't forget it, though 1 happen to be a rich old woman Instead of a poor one, as you'd thought me.'
Tom listened, found himself Incapable of making any remark, and fell asleep again. But hard times were over for the poor fellow. When be was able to work again there was a fine position open for him In a great wholeaale house, and be was abls to keep a pretty suite of rooms and a servant for old Granny, and to live with her, to ber great joy. And, moreover, It is well known tbat old Madame Hover, who has neither relative nor hobby, has made ber will, leaving all ber great fortune to Tom Yarnham. •Don't ask me why,' she said to the lawyer. 'Perhaps you wouldn't think it much to go hungry on a stormy wintry evening for the sske of a poor old woman. I could have called a coach, and I'd only lost my purse, but be didn't know that, and I
always
he looked when be sent tbat bread away. I knew he was good fellow, and so be is, and I've aright to leave my money according to my fancy.'
"Beeaaae
aassd ami
RBwrSr3Siyw£'who
had been 111
for over two years, and bad tried many ether medicines, became sound and well bv using your Favorite Preecription. My niece was also cared by Its u«e
UrnA /atM ftsfc At
after several physidsns had failed to do fjpOOQe her any Yoars truly.
THOMAS J. MBTHVIN. "»«at of all"
BAMTIXOHJC. Md., March 5tb, 1879
Dr. R. V. Frnoi: Dear Sir—My family have used your Favorite Preecription and it has done all that is claimed for it. It is the best of all preparations for women comBlainta. I recommend it to all families.
G. S. WATKBMAN. Druggist.
THS moat sensible remedy, and the only aafo, sore aad permanent care for all diseases of the liver, blood and atomacb, including bilious fevers, fever and ague, dumb sgue, jaundice, dysDemia?£c\ la Pmf. Gail matte's French liver Pada, which cures by absorption. A.tr yoar druggist for this noted care, and take no oO&r, and if he has notgot It or will not get It for yoa, send I^Oto French Pad Co.. Toledo, Owill send yoa one port paid by return mail. Sold by J. J. Baur. (2)
GRAT hair may be made toj ita youthful oolor and beauty by the use of £2rsVegatable Sicilian H*lr,Rf£*r Sr, the beStp»«Mcation known to the science ot medicine and chemistry.
IS STROSGLI ENDORSED. RKV. E. F. L. GAUSS, Galena, 111., writes "For over t«u years I had been a great sufferer from pains in the Rmail of the baok and region of the KldneyB, which was most excruciating and at times almost Insufferable. Doctoring biought no relief, and I was advised to ge abroad and seek the climate of my youth. In Germany and Switzerland eminent physicians, after close examinations, declared my sufferings to arise from disease of the Kidneys, of long standing, pnd oould do me no good, I was, however benefited by the climate and consequently returned. Mo sooner had I been baok and resumed my pastoral work, when the old trouble grew again so Intense as to make life a buraen. A few months ago I came in possession of one of Day's Kidney Fads, put it on, and the effects were truly wonderful. The pains at onoe grew less, and are now, after wearing the
Second Pad,
entirely gone, and there can be no doubt that I aaa entirely cured, as I write this some weeks after its use, and am strong and look the very picture af health. I write ths perfectly voluntary, and It is dictated only by truth and gratltudb. Indeed, I consider the Day Kidney Pad Co. Gods agents and great benefaotois of mankind. Way all the suffering be helped as I have been is my earnest wish."
MRS. It. L. SPORE, Sheron, Wls.-"The doctors had gtven my mother up with what they called Bright's Disease. She is now wearing Day's k*ad, gaining strength, and improving every way."
LAlllMORE & DEAN, Druggists. Niles, Mioh.—(80years in business)—"Day's Kidney Pad in haviagalaige sale and gives better general satisfaction limn any remedy we ever sold."
GASPER WE1TZEL, Policeman, Lancaster, Pa.-" 1 have been a great sufferer from Kidney complaint, and after wearing your Pad '25 days 1 feel better than 1 have in 15 years.
Dr. A. J. STONER, Dcoatur, Ill8.-"Your Pad is doing great good hero. It sells every day and gives universal satiafaotion."
For Kale by druggists, or sent by innil (free of postage) on receipt of the price—Regular Pad W'2.00 Special Pad (extra slase) $8.00 Children's 81&). Our book,"How a Life was Saved," giving the history of this new discovery, and a Targe record of most remarkable cures sent free. Write for it. Address, DAY KIDNEY PAD CO.,Toledo, O fl TTTIilV Owing to the many tAl llUJli worthless ICidev Pads now seeking sale on our reputation, we dtemltdue the afflicted to warm thorn. Ask for DAY'S KIDNEY PAD, and take uo other. U-July 24.
THE PROKOTOR PKRFKCTOR OF ASSIMILATION. \G| THE REFORMER A VITAI"-
IZEROF TH« bLCOD.
THR PRODUCER AND IN« VIGORATOR OF NKHVK AND MUSCLE. TUB BUILDERA SOPPOBTKB
OF BRAIN POWER.
FELLOWS'
COMPOUND SYRUP OF HYPOPHOSPHITES
1
Is composed of ingredients identical with those which constitute Healthy Blood, Muscle aud Nerve and Brain Substance, whilst Lifo itself is directly dependent upso a
By its unison with the Blood, and its effect upon the Muscles, re-establish in the, one and toning the other, it is capable of effetting tho following results:
It will displace er washout tuberculous matter, and thus oure consumption. By increasing Nervous and Muscular Vigor it will cure dyspepsia, feeble or Interrupted no.ion of the heart aad palpitation. weakness of Intellect caused by grief, overtax or irregular habits, bronchitis
(acute or
chronic), congestion of the lungs,
even In the most alarming stages. It cures asthma, loss of voice, nouralgia. Vitus Dance, epileptic fits, whooping cough, nervousness, and is a most rider-
St. Vitus Dance, epileptic fits, whooping cough, nervousness, and is a most wonderful adjunct to other remedies lu sustaining life during the process of dipthcrla.
Do not be deceived by remedies bearing a almllor name: no other preparation Is a substitute fOr this under any circumstances.
Look out for the name aud address, J. I. FELLOWS, St. John. N. B.,on the yelloW wrapper in water mark, which Is seen by holding the paper before the light. fl.M
Bottle,
t7.se
for (tlx
TUTT
At
well."
Bottles,
BOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS.
SYMPTOMS OF
TORPID LIVER.
Loes of Annottta. Hsasea. bowels costive, SfiillaenSauonTn witna
EaTSSC
nTrSTwTu^aJain
Heart" JXts before \Se eyes, Mestiasanoes st
allow
remembered Just how
SEEt7T513rooIo?e?rWtee XFTHESEWAMrmOIAlEiniHEBm SERIOUS DISEASES WILL SOON BE DEVELOPED
TUri"8ymi «re especially adapted t» NEH CUM, D«eetlNMmehachange •f feellnc
A Noted Divine says: Jgp8
Dr.L
HAIOHSB'S STATION, GS.
rtol
ite» and cause the
thai the system .is
body to Take aa •earlslM*, and by their tfaaJoArtton on the flnced. Price 96
TUTT'S HAIR JljfC
Kgiag§s£3i
Offioe, 35 Murray St., New York.
1HE GREAT ENGLISH RHMEDY Qrajr's NpedCe H«4leine. Is especially reoom mana* ed as aa unfailing curs for seminal
Weakness, Kpermatorrhea, lmpot«ocy,andali
Uore After Taking, Mmumeeon Belf Abase a* Loss of Memo ^/Universal Loasitode, Pain In the Back Dimness of Vision, Premature Old Age, and many other rilwiaitra that lead to Insanity, Consumption and a Prematore Grave. roll particolars in oar pamphlets, which wa desire to send fires by mail to every one. The Specific Medicine Is sold by all drng-
loid In
Terra
kante, wholesale and retail,
ttoUok* Barry,and by druggists every* tier#.