Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 11, Number 34, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 19 February 1881 — Page 2

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOP£E£

TERRE HAUTE, FEB. 19,1881

HOW THE. FARMER MISSED IT.

III had told her in the spring The old, old story briefly. When the sparrow and robin

to sing,

ADd the plowing was over chle But haste make* waste, and the story sweet, I reasoned, will keep through the sowing, Till I drop the corn and plant the wheat,

And I give them a chance for growing. Had I even told the tale in Jane, When the wind through the gnus was blowing, Instead of thinking it rather too soon,

And waiting till after the mowing.

Or had I hinted, out under the stan, Thai I knew a story worth hearing. Lingering to put up the pasture bars,

Nor waited to do the wearing. Now the barn is full and so is the bin. Bat I've grown wise without glory, Since love «the crop not gathered in,

For my neighbor told her the story.

A Hoosier Sketch.

Indianapolis Journal.

Twenty years ago a certain railroad in Indiana was new enough to still be a source of deep interest and curiosity to the people of the sparcely settled region through which it passed. They haa not yet ceased to gather at the stations, morning and evening, to see the "down train" and the "up train." The projectors of this thoroughfare, having in view, perhaps, legislative appropriatTo and private subscriptions of stock, hau artfully led the public to think that a farming country of marvelous richness was guttering for an outlet, that passengers and produce impatiently waited to crowd its cars. So impressed wereguileless citizens with this idea that only a brave man or a fool would have dared to say: "Go to! We need no railroad." Thus far in the existence of the road the great rush of travel and traffic had not begun in the meantime, one train daily oach way was found enough for all needs. Few among the rural population along the route evor went from fewer still expected visitors. Yet they wont regularly to see the engine and the gayly painted speculation!

ng

cars they indulged in wil on the probable ousiness and destination of the travelers of whom they caught glimpses. The occasional stranger who stopped at any village was confronted on the platform by groups of men in blue or buttornut jeans, all chewing tobacco and expectorating profusely. He passed women in lank calico drossos ana limp calico sunbonnets—some old ana wrinkled, some young enough to bo pretty, but all hopelessly ugly, even to the dull eyed babies in their mother's arms. If the traveler chanced to wonder how one woman, with an expanse of toothless gums, could endure to smile, ho might marvel that the next ono appeared in public before having her unsightly teeth removed. And while he considered tho sad effect of quinine, saleratus and tobacco on human beauty, ho would Hftvo been amazed had he known tho curiosity his own person excited. "Who is lie?" "What brings him down this way?" "How long will he fiilrttVT** iit? oogforly dimmoovUi The railroad has glvon something to think about. Do you know what that moans, you who have never lived in thecountry, remoto from a business center? It moans that tho residonts, having little outside interest, few books, perhaps no newspapers (thore are such places yet), have narrowed their lives down until fresh subjects for thought and conversation aro rare. They havo talked about each other, about tho crops, the calves, the pigs and tho woather, until oach man knows what another is going to sav while he is vot afar off. Any unusual event, a doath, an elopement, a fire, is seized upon, talked about from every point of view, turnod toevery light, over and over, until each throad and shred of of the story is worn with age. Finally, it seems to die away, but suddenly revives, and passes on its round until set aside bv something oqually startling. Think/then, of the vast store of entertainment afforded by a railroad!

On this October evening, twenty years ago, the echoing scream of the locomotivo, stange to sav, did net out the

HTO, "-t| -draw

usual number of Hooslers to gape, openmouthed, as tho train halted, then passed on. More strange still, many passengers alighted at each stopping place—the natives, themselves, returning home with the air of adventurers, breathing sighs of relief, too, as of having safely accomplished a perilous journey. Capacious lunch iMtskots, as woll as certain additions to their everyday attire—wide hoop skirts on the women, shirt collars on the men, for example—suggested that some sort of festivities had been indulgcd in. As the excursionists lingered reluctant to go whilo anything remained to lie seen, their last glances turned from tho long lino of crowded passenger coaches to a baggage car with the doors tightly closod and a curious hush fell on them, as it rollod by. What did it mean? A "through passonger," in search of knowledge, found the path an easy one. The long, lean man at his side, with sun burned, straggling board and a mouth like a cavern, was full of infor nation. "Political meetin'! Lord, no! "Ixvtions stirs a feller up some, but there ain't arv stump speaker in Indiana •at kin fetch sooh an all-fired big crowd as was out to Nawburg to-day. Ilangin' •vo' know—Bill Murdochs. Hain't heerd about him? Reckon yo' mi n't live »round hver, anvwheres, or yo' 'a knowJd the pertieklers. Been a powerful sight o' talk about it, fust an' last. Yo see 't happened 'bout this hyer way

Bill, he tuck a notion one night, nigh two months ago now, 'at he'd go down to the f'orners to Gimble's an' get some ten penny nails. He was a working old Carter's farm on the sheers an' lived up there, full two mile from the Corners Ills wife was a finicky little critter, with a mite of a Itaby, an' poared like she had a warnin' o' some kind, for she done her best to coax him to stay to home. But go he would, though what he wanted with them nails jest a* that time, more 'an a pin xtith two bends, no one ever could ever make out. After he'd bought »em an* talked with the fellers in the store a bit—mebbe had a drink or two in the back room—in come Jake Jillson. Jake was a airy sort o' chap—could &f ford to be, 'muse his father'd left him one o' the bast farms in the township, an' he was beholden to nobody. Well, there'd been some old grutch at ween him an' Bill—no ono knows Hackly what. Some savs Jake had courted Bill's wife in times* past, an' that she thro wed him over but I dont reckon that was it.

Jake was married two years afore Bill was. an' taint no ways'likely 'at a female woman 'u'd give a well-to-do feller like Jake the go by an' take up with a

Eeaded,

oro roan like Bill. They're too long women be. Tany rate, How ever 'twas, the two soon reme to quarrel. Nobody 'at heard .'em seems to

agree how it was. Jake aggervatin', an kep' a naggin'. Bill he was a chasin' of Jake over the boxes an' bar*!. It was on'y a minute afore he ketched him an' hit him. The breath was knocked out o'Jake fer good an' all with that 'ere very pound of ten penny nails. Jerusalem! What a racket it raised! After the folks come to their senses like, they got the sheriff an' a posse o' constables an' scoured around the country right smart of a spell huntin' Bill, afore they thought o' going to his house. At last they went there an' found hm a-walkin' the floor with his baby. He was teetotally wrapped up in that woman an' young un o' his, but sick baby or not, he was dragged off to jail, an' not a minute too soon. A lot o' men in masks came a gallopin' down, an' would 'a made short work o' him if he'd been there. No, boss, I don't know who they were, an' ef I did, 'twould be safe fer to keep my mouth shet. These hyer things hev to be looked after now an' then—the law bein' so slow an' oncertain. Wasn't much time lost, though, on this case. The jury wouldn't 'a darea to 'a brought in ary other verdict than guilty, considerin how man^ rich relations Ji"

ake had scattered about They'd 'a made it mighty te to

this county. lively fer ary juryman 'at would vol clear his murderer. An' so, Bill, bein' as I said, a poor man with no friends to help him, had HOshow,an' had to swing. 'Twas all right, I reckon somebody has to be made a example of. "Me an' Mandy—that's her in the red calker a settin' over yander—'lowed we'd up to Newburg to-day, where the angin' was at. Hadn't arv one of us ever saw a man hung, an' she hadn't never been on the steam kyars. I hadn't no notion o' takin' the boys, but Mandy she says, 'Laway, let 'em go, it'll be a warnin' to 'em to behave theirselves when they've growed up.' So we all went. An' jeminey! what a crowd! Best part of two counties there I reckon."

After a pause, during which the long, lean man ejected tobacco juice vigorously across the traveler into the aisle, he added reflectively, "A circus, I'm free to say, would 'a' more to my taste, but it wouldn't a' been so improVin' to the community. Elder Borum says circuses are corrupt an' an' a snare o' the devil."

Another pause and more tobacco. "The—the—the deceased is on a kyar back o' this hyer."

Just then the train quivered, slackened, stopped where a lonely country road crossed the track not a human Deing, not a house in sight—only a platform and a pile of walnut lumber to hide the long, straight, western horizon beyond miles and miles of "rolling" country. In the summer, perhaps, it might have a certain beauty in the dusk of this autumn day it was desolation. Towards the north a grove of girdled trees waved white, ghostly arms rain had fallen and the gray earth, the heavy sky alike seemed sodden. The long gray and black curves of the wagon track wound in and out like a huge serpent crawling over the earth.

Out upon the platform was helped from the baggage car a young, slender woman with a oaby in her arms—a woman in whose eyes were no longer hopes, wore no more tears.

After her was lifted a pine coffin roughly stained. The men who had touched her gently were less tender of this other burden. They dropped it with ajar that brought a little cry of pain from the woman's lips. She sank down and placed her hand upon the box as if to shield from harm that which was within. The child upon her lap stared .nXcxtnljr oVy Tl»o OB8in° shrieked fiercely as if in haste to go, then rushed on, leaving her with her dead and her despair.

Curious passengers,{looking back from a bend in the road, saw her couching motionloss, while a last red gleam from tho setting sun broke through the clouds and touched her with a luria light.

Around a curve of serpentine highway they saw, too, a country wagon, the driver an old man with bent head, the horses slow and spiritless. Then the train swept on out of sight.

Not a pleasant story, did you say No, yet 'tis true, 'tis pity." It is ono of those dark threads so common in the weft of life that, to our short-sighted eyes, mar the pattern that else might be fair. We even doubt the wisdom of the Weaver who permits such defects, such shadows to hide the clearer outlines of the web. As if we knew his designs

Do you wish to hear the sequel—to follow to an end the twisted thread that seems to have crossed and tangled uselessly in the loom of fate?

The mother, who was left with her child at the lonely station, would have been glad to die, no doubt but, for the sako of the babe, she must live on. She was ono of those timid, clinging creatures such as all women are exhorted to lxxjome. Masculine wisdom says the manifest destiny of such a one is to be a wife and mother the same sagacity neglects to go further and provide for their nelplessness when destiny fails them. But theso two lived, and the child grew and thrived. How they lived, only a woman, poor and alone, who toils for her children, day and night, can tell. This ren, aay mother, like the rest, worked early and late at anything her hands could find to do. She sewea, she washed, she nursed the sick, she drudged for the farmers' wives in busy seasons. Hours when she should have slept were spent in making the scanty garments of baby Nancy, little sympathy was manifested for her, though doubtless more was felt than found expression—the American firmer is not demonstrative. She did not ask for pity, and no one saw her weep. The neighbors said "Mrs. Murdock bore up rignt well under her man's

takin' off lucky 'at she was one o'them kind 'at didn't have no deep feelin's." No so with the other widow. Mrs. Jillson"s display of grief was loud and violent. Never was woman so cruelly bereaved, she said. She knew she could not live. If there were no Murdocks on the face of the earth she could die easier she could grind them to powder herself. "What right had that sly, deceitful hussy to be alive? Not a bit of doubt she worked Bill up to the murder. Jealous, vou see, because Jake looked at her once*before he knew me." Before long, however, her excessive sorrow moderated, She allowed herself to think favorably of life once more. Hysterica and "sinking spells" grew less frequent. In less than a year she married again— entirely on her son's account, she ton her friends. "A lone widow woman couldn't rightfully bring up a boy alone."

Mrs. Muniock's feelings toward the family of her husband's victim were curious. For themselves she cared nothing, but for "Bill*# sake" she cherished a strong desire, a"feverish anxiety to do them service. Had she been of the Roman Catholic instead of the Methodist fkith she would have starved herself, if need be, to pay for masses for the repose of his soul. As it, ministers of the gospel—well meaning men—who bad "labored and prayed" with Murdock before his execution, told her that he had refused the means or grace. While admitting regret for the crime committed, he had declared that he did not love God that he knew nothing about him. "When vo* talk, Elder, about lovin'," he would sav,

MI

could sense yore mean in' mighty

well ef vo* was a p'intin* at my woman

I

He

TERRE TT»I I'I'H! SATURDAY JCVJiaTING MAIL

an' the little chickabiddy. Them's all I've got ary love for in this hyer world. I never knowed the Lord here, an' ef.it depends upon my believin' in an* lovin' of Him now J[ reckon I shan't know him in the nexr place." With which grim statement the preachers were finally forced to retire.

Bring thus taken in the blackness of his sins, unconverted, of course he must

ways been taught and undoubtedly lieved, was unspeakable torture forever and evermore.

Now, in her ignorance, she did as we nil do when a creed is too narrow for our own special needs—she passed it by. Turning from that monument of human wisdom, she groped for agate where hope was not shut out. "Billy must be punished, for he done a wicked thing, but he was not bad, he was not bad.

knowed him so well.

was always kind, on'y his temper quick—God must know that too, an' surely, surelv he can't be hard on him always 'cause he lost control over his self jest once. Ef

I

could.on'y do some­

thing fer Mrs. Jillson, seems as if 'twould count for Billy some way. Ef she would let me work for her

I

might

see some chance, but 'pears like she won't let me come a'nigh." Having no one else, she whispered her thoughts, her wishes to the little Nancy, instead of tender songs and baby talk, the child was lulled to sleep with stories of her father, with broken sobs and prayers. Who knows how early she became aware of a shadow upon ner life How soon she was conscious of a difference between herself and other children whom she saw Her presence was only tolerated by the busy farmers' wives because the mother could not leave her no noisy play, no mischievous pranks were permitted or excused.

The children of the poor and unfortunate learn self-control and self-repres-sion at an early age. When Nancy was ten years old she was done with childhood. She could make herself useful in many ways to the women who wanted "help." She could "earn her own living" and talked gravely of a half day or a full day's time. Her mother, perhaps feeling that could do no more for her daughter, and haying no other interest in life, let this world slip from her feeble hold, and went over the border into the unknown.

As she grew up, people were not often unkind to Nancy. On the contrary, they were usually friendly in a somewhat condescending way—when she did her work well. Had shebeen a timid, confiding creature, less self reliant and reserved, no doubt they would have shown her many a favor that would have made her heart glad. As it was, the occasional rude taunts of other children (what is more barbarous than a cruel child?) and now and then rough allusions to her father's death by older people, raised in her nature the armor of silence and assumed indifference. Withdrawing into herself, asking no help, she was allowed to go her way alone as best she could. So she toiled and served until she came to eighteen years of age. That time found her in the home of a farmer, twenty miles from her birthplace. Had you asked the girl if she were happy, "she might have said yes. The farmer and his wife, who had no children, were kind to her. There was plenty of hard work, to be sure, but she had known nothing else. Metaphysical questions had not troubled her she had never asked herself if life was worth living, but had accepted fate without rebellion. She had read no novels. Mr. nuurei, int fanner, sometimes asked her to read to him from "The Weekly Reaper"—1"Types were so much littler'n they used to be readin' kind o' made his head dizzy." Nancy certainly might absorb facts, but not romance, from the able dissertations she spelled out, upon the treatment of lambs, the weevil in wheat, or the advertisements of patent churns. Evon the household department of the paper did not develope artistic tastes. Sne had no colored tissue papers wherewith to construct lampmats. Why should she make elaborate frames of walnut shells or crooked sticks, when she had no pictures to put in them?

An ignorant, uninteresting servingmaid, you see—very different from the aesthetic, cultured heroine, so popular nowadays. Yet this one was a woman, "with the heart and the hopes of a woman,"—hardly conscious, perhaps, that she had a heart, so long had it been starved. As in her childish days, she still held aloof from the though, had she been so disp than one young granger wo me ner

One day she became conscious that the young man who stood smoking a cigar on the back platform was the same one who was there yesterday, perhaps the day before that. With eyes turned away she became aware, too, that he was looking at her with bold admiration—the subtle magnetism which scientists cannot quite explain—made her cheeks

What was there in such atrifle to make her sleep that night less dreamless than before, in spite of sound health and weary young body?

The next evening she went to the usual place. A little shyness about her now, but why should she stay away? She could not have known that the young man would be there again. But be was there, and this time lifted his hat and smiled at her. II Nancy lived to be an old woman, and never saw him again he would stay in her memory for that one act. She looked at it, not as an impertinence, but as a mark of respect. No man had ever lifted his hat to her before. The rustic beaux had not attained that tench of polish as yet, and they would perhaps have sneered had they seen him, yet have envied him his style and dty manners. -,

The refined, accomplished lady of whom we like to read would not liay* been won

one or twenty-two years of age, with "sandy" hair and a jet black "moustache. A penetrating odor of hair oil and cinnamnn essence diffused itself about him. Wherever jewelry is admissible in masculine outfit he had given it room—not expensive ornaments, perhaps, but very large and showy. A hat worn upon one side of his head, a cigar carried in the opposite corner of his mouth, as if to ance the organ of brains, were his

ie thrill of pleasure which filled poor

The thrill of pie Nancy with delight would have caused a of disgust to our fastidious maiden.

Poor Nancy! No. Something had entered into her days which made labor light and hours short. Only smiles and glances, but these may mean so much. Once he had thrown a kiss at her when no one else could see she tried not to think of that except when by herself, for fear some one might guess her thoughts.

One day her heart was set to fluttering and her cheeks to burning when Mr. Rhorer brought the young man—yes, there could be no mistake—the same young man home with him. His name was valentine Gip$. "My stepfather's name, did you say, Mrs. Rhorer? Yes, I've always went by the name of Gipe instead of (Nancy did* not catch that). "Live up at Newbury, with maw an' paw. Maw, she's that wrapped up in me she won't hardly let ma out of her sight. Am in business with Uncle Joe, down to the junction, an' havin' a free pass, it's just as cheap to boark at home, so I go up and down on the road every day. We're dealin' in stock at present. Heard Mr. Rhorer had some fat cattle to sell, an' have took a run up to see. Betcher boots I can't be beat in jedin'the pints of ananimal Uncle Joe knows it, too has dead loads o' confidence in me."

It took a long time to buy those cattle. Mr. Gipe came and went, and then came again. When one purchase had been made, another was talked of, and the summer was ended before the stock was sold.

Long before that time Nancy's heart was gone. All the love that other girls divide among friends and relatives was concentrated and lavished upon a creature who did not know what treasure was laid at his feet. He had nothing but empty words to give in return, was having a little fun, a little flirtation, he said to himself—but upon these words of love Nancy lived and was happy. The world took on a beauty she had never seen before. She wondered, as she san at her' work, that she had not notice what a pretty blue was the sky, how bright were the sunsets nothing in heaven, she thought, could be fairer than the moonlit summer nights.

The light of her passion brightened everything. Even the gray, heayyface of her mistress was touched with a re fleeted glow. Hitherto the girl had felt an unconscious pity for that" worthy matron's plainness. With feminine faith in beauty, she had wondered, idly, how Mr. Rhorer, himself no Adonis could ever have married so homely a lady. Now she could see that the old lady might not have been so ugly, after all, when young.

Mrs. Rhorer saw nothing of the play that went on before her face. Not a whisper of the old, old story reached her dull ears. She had forgotten that she was young once she did not remember that the blood of youth is riotous, its

Eor

,«v.. more ula have

been glad to become her "beau," for Nancy was pretty. They were not so fastidious as to birth and family that her bright eyes. might not have won them.

The one small interest and excitement in Nancy's life this summer was watching tho evening passenger train. It stopped for a few moments at a water station not far below the house, and there she waited, when her work was done, to catch a glimpse of the wonderful outside world, that she oould see in no other way. Day after day found her there, leaning against the ola gate under a wide beech tree. She liked to look at the strange faces: took great interest in the variety of hats and bonnets, the only articles of apparel visible from her point of view. It puzzled her to guess where so many people could always be going. If she should ever go traveling she would not look so tired and cross as many of them did she was sure she should feel sorry, too, for girls who oould only stand outside and see the cars go by. Once she saw a man carefully fasten a wrap around his wife's throat, and heard words of tender anxiety for her comfort. She wondered vaguely if anyone would ever care for her in that way it was not likely, she thought. Somehow she did not wish to stay that night until tho train started. She was tired, and the hissing steam made her head ache.

JUft WW iiBV WW awv%a i»TT pleased with this young man. Sb« lid have seen a person'rof twenty.

li-.rfift!*

ulses swift and eager—not sluggish, as own The girl was "only Nancy," Her mistress did not see that she was fair,—did not dream that she had a want that was not suppled by heroolf. Itnovor occured to her tnat Valentine's frequent visits were for anyone but her husband, because she knew

A part of what Mrs. Rhorer knew Nancy learning one day. Summer had

gad

one then, the first bleak weather of fall come, and sitting by the kitchenfire, the prudent farmer's wife began planning for the winter. "I wish to

goodness

Dan'el an' Yal Gipe would

nish up their trade about the last lot cattle. We don't want to winter them steers over. The young feller's keen at a bargain, but powerful cautious. It's jest as well, though, I s'pose fer him to •0 slow an' take care of his money fer ie11 have a heap of it some day. His Uncle Joe's and old bachelor, an' most likely'll leave him all he's got, an' then his pa left him right smart of a lump." "His pa dead?" "Why, child, didn't I ever tell ye 'at Val's pa was murdered when he was a baby? Gipe's on'y his step-father—Jillson's rightly his name. The man was hung who did the killin'. 'Member me ana Dan'el was at the hangin'——Why Bless my soul! What ails the critter, a whiskin' out that-a-way an' dammin' of the door? Is she— why laway, come to think, the man who was hung was her pa, and I clean forgot it. Mighty touchy she is, to be sure, but I wouldn't 'a said anything if I'd 'a thought. Was going to tell her about Val's wedding that's to come off next month. Wonder if we'll get an invite."

Nancy's mind was in a whirl. One thought chly was clear. Val was coming that nignt. He should have "something particular" to tell her, he had said, and she, in her innocence, had blushed aid thought of but one thing he could lay. Now she must tell him this awful thing of course he did not know it, flbd what would he say. Quite likely he buld not marry her now, for his mother would never consent. But how couU they live apart? With the simplicity of a woman who loves and knows nolbing of coquetry or flirtation, she had ipeepted Val's tender words without rtisgiving. That he had said nothing marriage had not troubled her so farthe love had been all-absorb-ing, without thought for the morrow. She had ipt doubted that he knew her history Everybody did"—and mixed with her tffection was a strong feeling of gratitude that he had not held aloof. She sboull care for him just the same she knewi if all his relatives were thieves aid murderers, but this was different. Her early years had left a vivid faiftesaion on ner mind of the releiitless hatred of Mrs. Jillson to her mother aid herself. It could hardly be hoped thai time had made much change.

If Yal shfuld ask his mother, perhaps —it mighebe—. oii dazed she went about her tasks. Wbuld the day never end? How graytand cold it was! The morn ing sne fcmembered, had been bright and clear. After supper abe was sent to the cross-joads grocery, a mile and a half away, on tfme household errand. It grew dark

early

now, but she was not afraid.

Suddenly, in the darkest part of the road, wbsre it made a short carve, she aune nptn an obstruction. Partly with eyes accustomed now to the darkness,

partly

|y touch, she found logs and

stonea tiled high across the track. How fcey came there she did not stop toconsiier. like a flash the thought came, "«be evening express Is due it will be wrecked, and val is upon it."

r,x 5-#

One moment, then followed the thought and the deed for which she had lived ner eighteen years. "If I can reach the water station I can warn the engineer there is no other way. I shall save Val yet." Softly she crept over the logs, with swift feet she sped up the gloomy road she thought not of the darkness. Like an illumination around her was the feeling "My Val shall not die, I will save him." Swifter yet she ran—it was a mile or more. Once she fell with her ear upon the ground she heard the vibrations of the coming train. Could she notgo faster? On and on, past the woods, through the corn Adds now—the stalks still standing breast high, after the Western fashion. How the dry leaves rustled! Her footsteps seemed to echo. Plainly now she heard the throbbing of the engine its fiery eye shone far up the road—there was yet time, she was nearly there. Louder sounded the thunder of the train, but above that and the beating of her heart she heard again the echoing steps. Some one followed her, called toner to halt, threatened her, but still she ran faster, faster. A pistol shot, another, but sne went on, staggering now. The train came thundering on, seeming, in the gloom, like a destroying monster, stopped impatiently at the station, and Nancy dragged herself to the engineer's cab. Her work was done. The creatures who, for malice or plunder, had planned the wreck were defeated, but had wreaked vengeance on her.

On board that train were lives worth more than the one for which she had given her own—men for whom other women would have died, no doubt wives and children for whom hearts would have broken had they come to their homes no more. She nad saved these passengers from destruction, but her thoughts were only for one. "Val! my Val!" was her ory—maidenly shyness

Seath.now

one in the solemn presence of To her it was as though they two were alone in all the world. When they carried her to the house the young man followed reluctantly. "I did it for you, Val. Iknow'dyou'd be on the train. Seemed as if the Lord must let me get there in time. I kep' askin' Him over an' over, an' He did. I reckon it's all up with me, though. This mornin' I'd a been sorry, but it's just as well. Ye couldn't a married me, Val, a knowin' who I be, an' it don't 'pear as if I could a lived away from ye. You'r all I've got. Mother'll be glad 'at I did this. Mebbe it 'il count for father, as she always was sayin'. Mebbe yer ma '11 forgive us all now."

Valentine Jillson was selfish. Some woman had ministered to his comfort, his vanity, all his life. This one, he thought, had only done what was proper, everything considered. He was selfish, but with tnose dying eyes upon his face he did not remind Nancy that he had never spoken of marrying her. He could not tell the girl what he had come that night to say—that their fun must come to an end, because he was to marry 'Squire Jones's daughter, Juniata, next montn.

And she, even with the presence of death, could not read his treachery. With his hand clasped tightly in her own she did not know him false.

Swiftly her life ebbed away. She grew weaker, weaker. "I am—so—tired. Kiss me—once more—Val. Say you—love me. My Val. I—love—love—. It is dark."

With his words, his kiss (Heaven would pardon this last deceit) Nane eyes closed to open no more on tl earth. On the "other side." It may be, she took up the thread of existence that had lain in the shadow here and carried it on iuto tho eternal brightness—the glory that is neither of sun nor of moon

FjEES OF DOCTORS.

The fee of doctors is an item that very many persons are interested in jijst at present. We believe the schedule for visits is $3.00, which would tax a man confined to his bed for a year, and in need of a daily visit, over $1,000 a year for medical attendance alone! And one single bottle of Hop Bitters taken in time would save the $1,000 and all tho year's sickness.—Post.

THE RIOHT APPLICATION. Mrs. D. Morrison, Farnham Centre, P. Q., writing about Dr. Thomas' Eclectric Oil, says: "George Bell used it on my son, and cured mm of Rheumatism th only a few applications. The balance of the bottle was used by an old gentleman for Asthma, with the best results. It acts like a charm."

HALL'S Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer is the most reliable article in use for restoring gray hair to its original color and promoting its growth.

•ANHONEST MEDICINE. Of all tho medicines advertised to care any affection of the Throat Client or Lungs we know of one we can recommend as highly as Dr. KING'S NEW DISCOVERY for Consumption, Coughs, Colds Asthma, Hay Fever, Bronchitis, Hoarseness, Tickling in the Throat, Loss of Voice, etc. This medicine will positively cure, and that where everything else has failed. No medicines can show 'one half so many positive and permanant cures as have already been effected by this truly wonderful remedy. For Asthma and Bronchitis it Is a perfect specific, curing the shortest time pos-pos-Trlal bottles l^cents. Regular size 11X0. For

the very wont cases In 1. Wi •ible. by all means give it a trial. sale by Oulick A Berry, Terre Haute. (I)

lenwktMe Cure® by Dr. Sway lie's Coaptnsd Byrup of WIM Ckariy. It will cure the most stubborn cough. It will cure bronchitis, asthma, sore throat. It has cured very many cases of consumption.

After an elapse of 25 yean we have received from Naomi "Wilcox, Angola, N Y., who was cured of Catarrhal Consumption by Dr. Swayne's Compound Syrup of Wild Cherry. This Is a convincing proof of the permanency of cures affected by this valuable remedy. tronother constitutions, we know of no better and pleasant remedy than Dr. Swayne's Compound Syrup of Wild Cherry. Price 25 cents and 91 a bottle or six bottle* fc. The large size bottle is the most economical. Sold at the leading drug stores. Swayne^s Pills are the best for the liver, biliousness, and to ward off chills and fever. Try them. Buntln A Armstrong, Terre Haute.

^hlloh's Conanmptioii Care. This Is beyond question the most successful cough medicine we have ever sold, a few doses invariably euro the worst cases of cough, croup, and bronchitis' woile Its wonderful success in the core of consumption Is without a parallel in the histonr of medicine. Since it's lint discovery it has been sold on a guarantee, a test which no other medicine

can

to go up toe railroad wan

around fe the turnpike, so she started home thifc way. It was a lonely walk even the lay light, through dense woods and throlgh deep cuts, but she thought only of tie man she was hastening to meet. I

stand. If yoa have a cough we earnestly Mk you to Uy it. Price 10 eta* 60 ctsi, and fl If your lungs are sore, chest, or back, lame, ase Shiloh*s Porous Plasters. Price 25 cents Sold by J. J. Bear.

lamer tikis QmatioB. Why do so many people we see around us, wmto prefer to softer and be made misers-

Gonsttpatkm. Dlolneas, up of

Loss of Appetite, Yellow Skin, when for thmi gbiloh's Vitallxer, guaranteed to cure hfm, sold by J* Baur.

up of the Food cents we will sell

8HILOHW CATARRH REMEDY, a marvelous curs for Catarrh, Diqtheria. Canker mnqth and Headache. With each bottle there is an inreniops Nasal Injector for the more successful treatment of these eomints without extra charge. Price fiO oenta. by J. J. Baur.

%*,

A\

*t

MARX.

GREAT

FOB

RHEUMATISM,

Heuralgia, Sciatica, Lumbago, Backache, Soreness of the Chest, Gout, Quinsy, Sore Throat, Spellings and Sprains, Burns and

Scalds, General Bodily Pains,

Tooth, Ear and Headache, Frosted Feet and Ears, and all other Pains and Aches.

Mo Preparation on earth

EQU»li

a

»o/ip,

Th^PogitlveCure

For all Female Complaints.

This preparation, Ha nans ri(yTilflog, conal*t« of Vegetable Proportion that are harmleu to tho mott delIcateInvalid. Upon ono trial tbo merits of this Compound will be reoogrnlxod, aa relief la immediate 1 and whoa ita uao la continued, in ninety •nine caaea in a ban. dred, apermanentaarolaoffccted^athons&ndj will testify. On acoonnt of ita proven merits, it la to-day recommended and proscribed by the beat physicians in the country.

It will care entirely tho wont form of falling of the uteres, LeuoorrhoM, Irregular and painful Menstruation,all OrarlanTroubles, Inflammation and UlcenUlon, flooding*, all Displacements and the consequent spinal weakness, and is especially adapted to the Change of life. It will dissolve and expel tumors from the uterus In an early stage of development. The tendeoey to oanoeroua humora there la checked very ipeedily byitause.

In tact It has proved to be the greatest and best remedy that haa ever been discovered. It pornteaCea every portion of the system, and gives new life and vigor. It removes falntneas^tatulency, d»rtroya all craving for atlmnlsnts, and relisvca wmalrneaB of the stomach

It cures Bloating, Headaches, Kerroos Prostration, Qcneral Debility, Bieeplesaasas, Depression and Indigeattoa. That feeling of heaving down, ran sing pain, weight and backache, is always pfirmanwitly cored by Its use. It will at all times, and under all clrcnmstaneaa, set in.harmony with the law that governs the female system.

For Kidney Oomplalnte of either sex this 00m pound la unsurpassed.

Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound

Is prepared att3) and 335 Western Avenue, Lynn, Mass. Price fl.00. Six bottle* for 96.00. Sent by mall in the form of pills, also in the form of Loaengt*, on receipt of price, $-00, per box, for either. Mrs. FDIEBAV freely saswerMdl letters of Inquiry. Send for pamphlet. idiliasa aaaihwTS Mention this paper.

Ho family ahoaid bo without LTD LA K. PINKHAM' UVEUPIIXa. They cure Constipation, Blllotisnesa, %iXunidlty of the Liver. (Scents per bos-

JOHN D. PARK & SON,

Wholesale Agenta, Cincinnati, Ohio.

DR.SYKES'

SURECURE

—FOR-

CATARRH.

The large number of certificates received of the virtues of this preparation in the treatment of this unpleasant disease, abundantly attest its efficacy. It is without a rival. It Is the only medicine now on the market adapted to Catarrh that performs what it promises, and effects not only speedy relief, but a permanent cure. Unlike many nostrums now before the public, it does not dry up temporarily the nasal discharge** but eradicates the producing cause, thus leaving the system in a sound and healthy condition. Ask your druggist for a bottle of of Sykes' Sure Cure for Catarrh, and you will be healed of the malady

Wrn. H. 8peer reports a remarkab: 1 cure of hi* wife of Catarrh. She had been af. Icted badly for yean had tried everything "Without avail. She was finally induced »try Sykes' Sure Cure for Catarrh, and after ilia if six bottles, a radical cure was effected Mrs. Sheer cannot say too much In its favor.

BATTUE QBOCTD, Ind^ 1879. For sate by OULICK A BERRY, wholesale and retail. Feb. 5-2m

TLtAimdel Tinted Spectacles

Tot the relief and cure of

Dim, Weak and Failing Sight,

Enabling the wearer to read suu wora either by day or night, with perfect ease and comfort. Protected by letters of patent granted by the government of the United Mates. England and the United Kingdom. For sale by

S. B. FREEMAN, Aeent.

Or All large new CHROMO CARDS, the 40 prettiest you ever saw, name, 10c. JZMteow *A«HA0 CAM CO.,with

-A*.

4

ST.

A OHM

iwrf,

OIL

simple

and

chrmp

Kxtcrniri

Itemed A trial entails but the comparatively trifling onUajr af 60 Cent*, and evefy ono Mirroring with pain can have oheap and poaiUvo pruuf of it« claims.

Directions in Kleren Languages.

SOLD BT ALL DRUGGISTS AND DEALERS 19 MEDICINE.

A. VOGEU2R & CO.,

Baltimore, S. A.

MRS. LYDIA E. PINKHAM.

OF LYNN, MASS.

DI8COTKRXR OF

LYDIA E. PINKHAM'8 VEGETABLE COMPOUND,

Nassau, N. Y.