Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 2, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 9 July 1881 — Page 2
THE MAIL
A PAPER
FOR THE
PEOPLE.
TERRE HAUTE, JUIiY 9, 1881
THE SAME OLD STORY.
She aft* within an easy chair— An open letter spread before her, So bright and dainty, young and fair,
No wonder all the lad* adore her. thly The roaee low their tinted glory, rid, gazing in her eyes so *w«t, The poet Fells hi* sweetest story.
And as she reads, her lovely mouth Pout* in a manner so beguiling. You'd think her prettier, perhaps.
Than when her /ace Is glad and smiling. "Such Impudencet"sbesays, "indeed, This man requires seven schooling, Expecting thus to have His way.
My better judgment overruling.
"To steal a kiss, and then declare He only longs to steal another: Who would hare thought he'd be so bold? rm half inclined to tell his mother. •Bnt if I will forgive,' he says,
He 'will at once make reparation. And gladly what be took in haste. Return with more deliberation.
*It wa* my beauty tempted him.' Ah, that's the way they always flatter, And think a few beguiling word*
Will rectify the graVest matter. He'll And I'm not a silly girl, To be cajoled"— but here she pa And soon
ijoled"—but here she pauses, her quickly changing mood relenting look Indorses.
The soft relenting
And then (the little fraud she throws Her glance* upward, gently sighing, And with a pretty saintilness.
Her dimple* mutinous belying, Hhe lays her hand upon Iter breast, And saysdemurely and benignly, 'To err fa human—to forgive*?
Ab, then It la we act divinely."
Amoral did you ask of me, Before my story ',ere ended Thla: Tlasoeasy to forgive
When we are only half offended. —Boston Transcript.
A Society Scandal.
THE VERY SINGULAR ADVENTURE OF MRS. HETTY HERN DON.
Boston Courier.
"This is unpardonable! It is atrocious? Atrocious! How dare he do such a thing? An outrageous liberty! Such a—"
Hero she broke down and cried like a baby. She was unmistakably prettv, and most unmistakably angry. She had youth, yot not too much of It that is to say, she still retained all its bloom, whilo she had outgrown that callowness which poetic license so frequently terms froshneiHS. Sho had—in spite of her tears just now—the easily confident air of a woman of tho world—independent, assured, and modest withal.
In short, sho looked what she was, a wonderfully fascinating voung widow who Imd loved wisely and not too well, and had tho world before her whero to choose again. She wasrich and had good tasto— hor dross and her surroundings both bespoko thoso dosirablo attributes and, as wo have alroady remarked, she was vory, vory angry. Sho dried her eyes with a petulant gosture. jiMlfashHinod of weakness, and stopped in her rapid walk up and down the spacious drawing-room, to glance again at tho newspaper sho had tightly crumpled in hor hand. It was with considerable dtnieulty that she smoothed out the wrinkled folds sufllciently to decipher thoolYoiuling paragraph and then, her fair face still Hushing red with shame and indignation, she re-read it—this timo aloud, and with numerous and wrathful interpolations of her owrt. 'The Latest Society Sensation Thoso 'horrid groat capitals and all about mo! I declare it's shameful! A Beacon street liello Elopes with au Old Admirer!' Old admirer, indoed! Tho hateful wretch. 'We learn with infinite surprise of tho elopement ol the well known and wealthy youug widow, Mrs. Hetty Herndon, with tho distinguished young American artist, Mr. Tom Trevor, who has but recently returned from Paris.' Pity ho didn't stay thore, tho impertinont inckanapos! 'We understand that tho geutloman waaan old suitor of the ladv bofore hor marriage to her late husband, and that an unhappy lover's quarrel'—Unhappy I should say it was quite the contrary!—'alono prevented their union. Tho denouement Is certainly somewhat startling, not to say theatric'—Oh, tho shame of it! Everybody lias seen it by this time—'but we presume the fair heroine of tho adventure is tired of common-place and the ordinary routine of life, and preterm! to have a dash of spice thrown in when she took her old lover back. She can certainly afford to be independent'— ran 1 I wish I could afford to scratch his oyee out! 'and she is sure, in any event—as is the happy bridegroom—of the congratulation* and good wishes of hosts of friends, among whom wo venture to write ourselves. Was ever anything so atrocious? so utterly impudent? 1 really never would have believed it of Torn Trevor. I used to tell him passion for practical joking would get him into trouble tomo day, but I could nevor have dreamed ho would descend to a thing Uke this. To humiliate me so and to-night of all uights! Everybody will be at Mm. Thornton's masquerade, and if I go, as go I must, what can I say?
And if 1 don't go, what won't they say? Oh, it was a shameful, cowardly thing to hurt mo ao!" ...
She was at a white heat now. She stamped her little foot, and was just on the verge of another flood of team when a servant entered with a card upon a salver. Calming herself, straightening out her face, and glancing toward the clock, abe murmured: "It
ran
Here
be tho Colonel come for me
so soon. It's full an hour before we need go." She reached out her hand, took the card, gave one glance at it. and stood for a second as tneugh transfixed then her anger burst out afresh, and in a perfect transport of furv she exclaimed: •*He here! How dare he the miserable, brawn creature!"
Tbeu to the movant in her most dignified manner: "Sav that Mm. Herndon la not at home to Mr. Trevor."
But before that functionary could explain the portiere was lifted by a strikingly handsome and manly young fel
low.*
who emme up to her with outstretched haudft, and face both happy and anx
•«Mv dear Mm. Herndon, pray pardon
mv
informality, but I was se eager to see you ami—" By tbi* time her ccm^nnituotwly icy manner began to chill him. his snxietv got the bSrt of his happiness which vanished utterly, leaving behind it but a chaw* of amasemeot and confusion. Still he struggled on: "And tbecircuuiilmiiai "The circumstances," interrupted she frigidly, "are such as to make your prs#«n* in this bouse an insult. I wooder at your audacity, sir: I wonder at it!" "Insult—audacity," said tike poor fel
May I? Well
«eem odd, doesn't it but nice, eh, Hetty?" "Yes, indoed, Tom. But tell me how long havo you been home? I heard you were in town." ^'Presently. But first let us go back for a moment to the cause of our quarrel just now." "Ah, Tom, we were alwavs quarreling!"
Yos, and I've been sorry enough for it, too. I have paid dearly for my share
?-x
Si
3
low, his face crimson with mortification and wounded feeling "O, Hettyporl mean Mis. Herndon—these are hard words to use against an old friend!" "Yon but add another insult to the score in using that word. Friend, indeed How dare you intrude upon me and exult in your crime in this way how dare you, sir?*' "Crime! My dear
Mrs.Herndon,what
in Heaven's name are you talkingabout? Is it a crime to desire to see an old friend again, and an insult to resent an insult to herf" "Resent an insult to me, sir! Neone ever dared to insult me before! Yet you, who call yourself a friend, are the first to do such a thing! Oh, hew could you?"
pretty Mrs. Hetty was almost
ready to
break
down again, but her pride
and anger saved her. "Leave me,sir! Words are useless. Go, and at once!" And she turned upon her heel.
But Tom Trevor was not the man to throw down Ids arms in the firpt skirmish.
Young as he looked, he had been nnder the fire of real guns and, although this was a much more serious matter, even so fierce a cannonade from so charming a woman as Hetty could not silence him all at once. "Really, madame, if you will talk of insult, it seems to me that I am the ag-
"You^ And she turned and looked over her plump shoulder at him, half indignant and half amazed. "You! Indeed?" And again her back was toward him. "Yes, madame, I am. I am more than willing to leave your presence but not uutil I receive some explanation of the indignity that has been put upon me." "Indignity, sir! Indignity! So it waaan indignity to have your name coupled with mine? This is worse and worse! Go, sir! Go!" And she looks quite to putting him out herself. "Madame, I fail to understand you. All I do know is that I came here anxious for your woman's wit to assist me in ferreting out the anonymous scoundrel who had insulted you most grossly and in a public print, and that—"
Yeu surely have not the impudence, sir, to deny the fact that you yoHrself wrote that article—or at least instigated it?" "I? Great Heavens. Hetty—I beg pardon—Mrs. Herndon! Do you mean to say that you suspected me of such a dirty piece of work? Great God! What do you take me for." "I certainly—I—I——" "This is too much! What have I ever dene that you should accuse me of such a thing?" "But I couldn't think of anybody else, and—and—" "And so I am pronounced upon as the only man in Boston capable of such meanness. Upon my word, you—" "But, Mr, Trevor," interrupted she, eager to smooth things over, her own anger all gone, as so often happens to woman when the man begin to bully her. "But, Mr. you used to nave such a mania for practical joking, and I thought—" "You thought I ceuld play such a scurvy trick as that—and upon you, of all women in the world O Hetty "Pray, pray forgive me?" I am so sorry I am indeed!"
She looked sa gently and so pretty, her soft eyes softer still with the miat of repentant tears that dimmed them, for Hetty's heart was as tender as her tempor was quick, that it was no wonder lio relontW—ho must have been more or less than man had he not done so—and took her out stretched hand and elasping it in both his owu, said "No, forgive me! I have be9n too violont. OF oourse, you were excited and indignant but it was hard to suspect me." "It was, and I am ashamed of it I am, indeed, Tom—I mean Mr. Trevor.*" "No, call me Tom. That Will prdvfl that you really do forgive me," "Well, then, Tom—but how odd it seems!" I® "Like old times." "Yes. Come Mr. Treavor—I mean Tom—como, sit down and let us talk them over, the dear old days." "Dear old days, indeed! How often I have thought of them, Hetty—I beg pardon, Mrs. "No, call me Hetty." then, Hetty, it does
in that folly." "Yes—but you the—" "Of that wretched, scurrilous attack in the paper ves. Have you any idea of the author f" "Not the slightest in world, or I shouldn't have—" "Of course not, of course |not. But I think I have a clew, I went at once after reading it to tho editorial rooms of the journal to—,' "You did? Oh, Tom, how good! How like vou!" "Well, then, 1 went to bunt the rascal down, if jrosaible. But they knew no more than II. Contrary to all rule—for no reputable newspaper allows anonymous communications in its columns— this had been printed surreptitious. The editor was very much annoyed, and promised to have it corrected in tomorrow's issue." "O dear! Then there's no hope of finding out who did it? How provoking." "Don*t worry, Hetty I don't despair vet. What would vou say to Charlie Lightlvr| «0, Impossible! He would never do such a thing." ••Yet von suspect me."* "No, I didn't! O, Tom, will yo« never forgive me
She pot out a little hand beseechingly which he took and kept in one hand while with the other be felt in his breast pocket and brought forth a scrap of paper which he held up befbre her eyes, saying. "Did vou ever see that handwriting before?"' "Yew'indeed. It's Charlie Lightly**. I've bad ao end »f notes of invitation from him." "Well read thta.w "Whv, it Is that dreadful ariide!" "Certainly. That Is the only clew I have., bate it's enough to brand him. Fortunately the copy of the artide was found in the composing room, with
Eireatocrwdonal
difficulty, and thia Is It. Lightly an contributor to the paper and, being so well knows, managed to get this in without any one seeing It." "O, Tom, how could he?"
Was he not a suitor of yours once? And did you not reject him? Of cowse that Is none of my bualnesa, and I beg pardon tor asking so Impertinent a question but I think I can trace it to that,'"
-'*V ~i
1
mo
vou and him. He is so unimportant he's not worth thinking of after thgJUat flush of anger." "lam rejoiced to see you take1"it so pleasantly but I really must be going." "O, no, don't*go yet." "But I must." And you are dressed to go out to the
VUVI 1WI U1S »5V. V"
JuB»
I half feared
were speaking of
fiSSisliiSsiSii
vc„
rjrtinence.
me?"
"W T»^t
TEKRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.
"Yes, I certainly did refuse him, but surely he wouldn't revenge himself so meanly. He always seemed such a godd-hearted fellow that I liked him rat of course a woman wouldn't tptak of marrying him,—that is—" fwv.A? jtB "That is, a woman like you—of course %hat do you say? not. But you see he's net so good heart- say—I say that ed as you thought."
Wliy, what do you mean to do "Do? Avenge your honor, of course. What would you* have me do Stand still and see a woman insulted "O, Tom!"
ahu iuu aremwocu a first-class tyrant.'
.• masquerade, I judge „Am
by your dress. I fear I have already de-
came home the last time.7' !&&&* "What an eternity!" "Isn't it? But I want to hear about your picture in the Salon. I read about its attracting so much attention and admiration, but I didn't learn the subject. What was it yf "Only a portrait! "A portrait? Whose, pray? But perhaps! am rude in asking. I beg your pardon." "Not at all. It was a portrait of an old friend, whose picture I had long treasured." "An old friend! How interesting! I wish I could see it." "You can see the original."
He drew from his breast a miniature, which he gave to Hetty, who opened it, her face all one eager flush of curiosity, not unmingled with jealousy. But, as she saw the pictured face, the flush deepened to a burning blush of pleasure and surprise. "O, Tom! That old picture1! 1 had forgotten all about it. Why, it was taken years ago." "Not so very many, but they seem long enough to me. And yet, time has touched you but lightly, and only for the better. Why, although you're something taller and fuller,.your faceishafdly changed from that of the little girl who used to pull off her shoes and stockings and waae in the brooks—" "Why, Tom Trevor, what are you talkingabout? You know I never did such a thing." "Never waded barefooted in the brooks? Why Hetty, of course you did—and such pretty little dimpled feet—" "Now, Tom, you know I never had anything of the kind." "What! No feet?" "O, how tiresome you are! You know what I ittMn. Talk about something else." ff. "Well, then, you are not vfexed with me4m*- painting your^orfcrdMJ {o*the Exhibition?" "Vexed I talcait as a compliment." "Do indeed? Tbatisgwuidfyou. ou might oonaidor it im-
Of course I made it seem
.ike an Ideal picture by aid of costume but it ^raa the dear old friend, the girl .HafctyiAtiflttl Waatpainting all the time." "Tonvwhat made you go toff to Euroupe so si "Yon "I "Yes, you. If you had given me half a chance I would have staid.. But you quarreled with, aiid—" *'I quarreled with you What atvidea! You quarreled with me you knoiryou did." "Well, we've made it up now, and that satisfies me. I shall go back, happy." "Go baok? You are not going bjfrck?" "Oh, yes. When I have seenj Mr. Lightly and arrange4 one or twd trifling matters, I shall then be ready to sail!"' "Oh, Tom, you're not really going, and yon don't mean to say that you think of doing anything to poor Charlie Lightly?" "I am truly sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Herndon. YOU seem to feel so deep an interest in the gentleman, but certainly must caul him to account for his scoundrelly act." "Oh, please dont." "It is useless to talk about ft, and I must s«ygood-night." ,i "Oh, Tom, donrt please don't." "I am very sorry to go against your wishes, and I had no idea the gentleman was so dear to you—" "Oh, Tom, you know better—but wt down, don't go yet." "Well It so very paper?" "Offended? of
that summer?" niotar why, Hetty."
I should say so! The idea
23U* of elopemMto, do
8tf"c687 u.
1
-Oh, certainly, Mr. Trevor." 1 "No, that Is not forgiving me. C*ll me Tom, and I'll believe it. "A "Well, then, Tom." 1: "Thank you, Hetty."
And you will net think of meeting Charlie Lightly? "Well, well,
now! To Dr. Bartol a, as yot» »W to
M-T'- Y&*'X V*
.ri a*
f,Vf
W
"Chance what?" "The marriage ceremony. I am very anxidosLto hear it, and—"
Tota Trevor, I really believe you are do. 's what I've been trying
p^gWB"11
t"Well,
1
"Yes*
Yo?.
"I am glad, Mrs. Herndon, that you Now come there time. We can see can treat the matter so lightly. As for
th®
"Now you're angry, calling me Mrs. Herndon. That's not fair." "And you won't see Charlie lightly?" "No, no, nothing, if you will only
"I beg your pardon. You're too good. But you were so hard upon me, and yet you are willing to let this sneaking] cowardly scoundrel offwithout a word."
obey." "Tom, you're rapidly developing into
I?
after we're
^ou" ii T. erythlng your own way. Now say you "Ob, no not at all. Col. Badsrer is coming for me." Hosfe "Weil, I suppose I must."
Then the husband would laugh, and, stretching fis tired feet to the fire, would draw his wife to his side and in his heart thank God for her contented spirit. For two years this went on times were so hard that little Mrs. Strong lived strictly to herself, only onco in a while meeting some of her old friends when she spent a day at her mother's in the city. Sometimes sheswished that she could invite them out to her country home, but always put it off, knowing, wise little woman, that»"irtany a mickle makes a muckle," and that sho must not spend anything on extras till John's salary was raised. At last, at the time they least expected it, an increase came, and ht John said: one nigi "Now, little rou must have a girl, yu_ friend or so to spend the day with you at least. I know it is lonesome out here. Write and ask some one at once." "Lou Fair lee and Mary Barker?" "All right. I'll see Jack Fairlee tomorrow and arrange it, so you'd best get ready."
by that article in ine Tor'the
^pproveof .lop.rn.nW Of coo™. of oourssw And you upset the room," thought the mother, ^5' nndw ^v drcum- wlm had not had nine year*' experience wouldnit elope under any boys for nothing. As she opened
Trevor, you Jprget
ask such a question.
Yo"
then I won't, l^v (he- Giving a fling to Diets dolly, Mrs.
"The marriage _«rvice! Why, what JL^ed herself any such qneaiions. oa earth are wo thinking °f STSait ft*"* it very loneeome," she "That Dr. bartons a
very
Butdid joaevw- •••. •ti ,nr little, and she began to see the "Hearhim read the'BMUTiages'eryloB? bare country with its winter 2^1 h-l-W— SStSTUow, tiuoogh h« fitaod* ••Bat you would like to, wouldn't
U*n. UmT,«.ppo««.ctem.
11
1
A
1
I am going the
ball." "Oh, no, please dont.w|j|p§$| "But the Colonel." "Oh. never mind tbe Colonel, of me."
Think
what of you?"
"I should have met him before this, surely wouldn't send me bock but he's left town and I came to you, 1. thinking you could help me to find him. ^7no^ You know so many of his friends in the O, because you re too good. oountrv" "Am I?" "O, never mind, now."
y°Q„,*f0uldn't?
Doctor to-night, and go to the steam-
er in the morning. My passage is booked."
^WeU,ini go and introduce you to
"But there's some difference between u^ youll go through the ceremony and then to the steamer?' "I am not so sure of that." "Oh, but I am. After that little interview with Dr. Bartol you'll be bound to
1
The next evening word came that the ladies would come out in the morning train and stay till evening—an allnight visit could not como off just then. How the little woman flew about the house, putting finishing touches here and there. Willie and Robbie helped, and Dick hindered—as usual. The boys were principally interested in the unwonted display of cake which graced the sideboard. "Now I do hope they won't disappoint in ten minutes they'll be here," said the mother, sinking into a rocking chair with delightful sense of order and cleanliness about her were not the boys
"No: if they come you can have your
Tv-m- _n„ farmi the bedroom door, what a scene of con-
fujdon met jjCr eyes
yourself. rr«»f_-T mien Mrs dressed in mamma's room as they found
w511
fowive
t5av
«"tbes
The children had
J*y
VoiTwill forgive day slothes lay In heape*on the floor the toilet arrangements were all in disorder, while Dick's dolly, as dirty and forlorn ss» Toddie's, lay in
state on the room was .not
Tb«
spotless bed quilt. half in order when boird "Come right up. Mother said you were to take off your things unstairs."
About
"Y«. Bat why do TOO TOS-oB-v" ••Oh, I don't know. H. to T«ry good of ibe l.ng, qolrt
the length of the trip,
The little woman listened to it all and began to feel as if she had been very Mind, indeed, to her disadvantages. A diversion fortunately occurred on the announcement of lunch. (Willie near-
auestlon,I
\vell, never mind, my dear
married you shall have ev-
Hurrah! hurrah! Oh, Hetty, you
UO bU 1U3C. "Tom, do you know what it is we are doing?" "Eloping, of course! Isn't it glorious?" "And this morning you were ready to chastise a man at the bare suggestion ot such a thing." "Oh, that was quite a different matter. You see it was none of his business anyway." "Then the paragraph wasn't do far wrong after all." "No—the only wrong thing about it was the correction* Iul drive around there and have that corrected before we sail." "Oh, Tom, it's awful, perfectly awful. What will people say?" "That it's a genuine ment!"
case of elope-
CARELESS WORDS-
There was not a happier, more contented little woman than Mrs. Strong. It is true she had not much of this world's goods, and some people might have found much to fret about in her lot but she was one of those who thought of the bright side of that sentence, which some think the "saddest of tongue or_pen'.'—might have been. "Why, John," fiihe would say, "how fortunate it is father lets, us have this place. As to the trouble of getting up early so that you can take that train, I find it makes the day so nice and long for my sewing and reading. Just think what it would be to have to pay house rent these hard times. Then it is so good to live in the country while our children are voung." "Chills!" John sometimes put injust to test the little woman. "Now, John Chills are bad, I'll admit, but then there is no other illness about, and I really think we are getting acclimated."
Mrs. Strong the rich
country milk. "You see we have our advantages," she said, with pardonable pride, and Mary agreed, "though for her part, if she couldn't have every luxury, she preferred the city."
The afternoon slipped quickly by there were new magazines to talk about and the latest embroidery to explain, and when at six o'clock her friends had gone, and Mrs. Strong met her husband, she assured him she nad had a delightful day. Yet her husband noticed a difference in his wife at once. At first he thought it was only because the dear little woman had been too hard at' work beautifying and cleaning up, but as day after day the shadow did not leave her face, though it lifted at times, he wondered "what had come over Nellie!" Her bright ways had changed. Every time she went into the parlor, it seemed so very empty, and she heard again the
"How do you like this place to
ve in? dont see how you stand it." The boys felt the difference. Mother didnt go to skate, and though she came out ana looked at their snow man, she didn't stay and snowball them, but went in at once to sit at the fire and think—of what? She began to forget what have been, and to think that what was, was very hard indeed. "I don't see how I've stood it," she said to herself, "there's really nothing to do here!" To be sure there was that quilt she had been making for the Home of the Friendless, and she was only half through that last volume of essays, but —"she didn't feel like it," and *so sat and thought and wished, till at last one day she startled her husband by bursting into tears.
John thought the sky was falling when his wife, who had been so brave and cheerful through such real trials, broke down in that way "because she was lonesome." In spite of all remonstrances, he insisted that the boys should be left to the servant and she was to spend a week in the city. "I'll tell you who'll do you a world of good—Aunt Huldah!"
Nellie thought, with a pang of remorse, how she had neglected the old Quaker lady but John was sure she would be welcome, and insisted on her going into town the next morning with
"Glad to see thee, child To be sure I am. But thee is pale and thee does not look so bright as of old. Thee must stay a week with me and tell me of all thy troubles." "I haven't any," Nellie insisted but Aunt Huldah knew better. She took good care that Nellie had plenty of sightseeing, and in a day or two saw with pleasure that the color was coming back to her cheeks. "The last day was rainy, and Aunt Huldah said they would spend it quietly together. They chatted of many things then after a pause Nellie said: "Aunt Huldah, how would you like to live in the country?"
The old lady's eyes sparkled (what memories she had stored up of her happy country home!), but she sad, "I don't think how much I would like it, fori must not leave this home, child. It's best not to think of the impossible." "But the country is so lonesome."
Aunt Huldah's face brightened—so that was the trouble? "Are not the boys with thee, and hasn't thee books and thy husband?" "Yes, but—Lou Fairlee—" "Ah, child, I see. Folks wonder how thee is content, and they wonder so that at last they break up tby content. Now, Nellie, when I was a young wife, my own dear mother gave mo this rule •Never let anything make thee pity thyself spend thy pity on the truly unfortunate, and if thee is downhearted, go to work or play. Are there no poor thee can work for in thy quiet home, child, and are there no romps thee can enjoy with the lads?" "Oh, Auntie." said Nellie, "I see it now! Lou and Mary seemed so sure I was lonesome, and pitied me so much that I pitied myself." "Dont make the same mistake with thy poorer neighbors when thee goes to see them, never pity their lot—remember, sympathy is quito different from pity."
That evening Nellie joined her husband, and together they reached their country home. John was so glad to get her back, and what a fuss the boys made! Never was a woman more proud and happy.
No more lonesome days for Nellie Strong. If she feels any symptoms of the old dissatisfaction, she nas learned how to shake them off. But are there not many young wives who have been led to discontent by the thoughtless words of their friends Are we not all forgetful of the time when we must give an account of these very words
MRS. ADAM GRUBB, 231 Walnut street, has been a great sufferer for a number of years from extreme pain in the feet, something like rheumatism. She was also very much troubled with corns and bunions. It was with great difficulty that she could walk, and sometimes whec she would visit her husband's shoe store or any of her children, she could not get home again without assistance, and often when she was walking along the streets she would be seized with such acute pain that she was compelled to stop in at the neighbors on the way until she got better. Some two weeks ago she heard of the wonderful cures St. Jacobs Oil was effecting and she at once^commenced to use it and experienced great relief immediately. The pains haveBeft her feet and ankles and the inflammation has left the corns and bunions. She is now tripping up to her husband's shoe store and out WJ» her children without experiencing soy pain.
TUB
Willie's voice was
area
lbjr tbaatndaof lotIm preHA •*«aa4«s*
-f.
good man. spokeheT heart
a
certainly could have no objection, ent," Barker, absently, sbak-
.~- 5.vV'^' ,r.
KfOTBT Toswill b« evrfUi
ttrwm
it would be diflfer-
ictr
SSSTfA'sa Ml JO%t Mdadi^ •flkNH Uk* MOB Bitters*
«q r—:
tore bmbi oerreead |«ssw. at* Mop B. Jn11 11 ro«ar»nart *.w»rrtaarfrOTi Ciny «s «t *ckIlKters.
Mop Sitters. 4, If yss art jnosssr aatfl diaerstlMi or A&Mpal ri*4 or ttaglm. «M erl peer fceslta or Issmdsbl mtm, ntr Hop|
I Thews [saanjrfrom MM t!Ltdstjjr/t Ibys tlmolr MOI
MopStters
o. 1. o.
HOP
tro for
I tft Optattg
tobacco.o
JMMgrgw B—df J«
NEVER
ti It ma pave/c e. ft I
FAIL!
RHEUMATISM,
Neuralgia, Sciatica, Lumbago, Backache, Soreness of the Chest,Gout, Quinsy, Sore Throat, Swell'
Mas and Sprains, Burns and Sca/ds, General Bodily IZ, Pains, 1 Tooth, Ear and Headache, Frosted
Feet and Ears, and all other Pains and Aches.
No Preparation on Mirth equnl*
at a
ST. JACOBS
*afe, sure, limple
Oil.
and
cheap
lvOtiv|DOunb
SYRUPO
GRIEF,
External
Krmedy. A trial entails but the comparatively trifling outlay of 60 fonts, and every one suffering with pain can have cheap and proof •f its claims.
Direction* in Kteren I*Bgn*fM. BOLD 81 ALL PEU0QI8TS AND DEALEK8 «-AiJ -i MEDICINE.
A.VOGELER & CO., Baittmor*,Md., U.S.
Excessive Anxiety, or ProloniiMt Study will prodttce Infirmity in thenervous system. In proportion sstlio strength of that system Is expended upon tlio mind li troubled thought, so are the orRiuis of dlge« tlon, assimilation and nutrition rendered Inactive and sluggish In proportion as the system becomes infirm. Every individual has someone organ weaker than the rest, and this is always the first to suffer during »er-s vous prostration for example, amlctliia news sometimes causes total 8usjenRlon the muscular action of tho heart, producing sudden hemorrhage anil death. No doubt any longer remains of tho practicability of restoring tho nervous system, and through the nerves the muscles of tho Impaired organs. FKLM»W«'
OOMI'oimo
SVHUP or Hv-
i*oi,Hoai,HiTB8 has been proved to pofwiw such power In numerous instances. It will impart strength to overcome trouble iml affliction. Persons who are ncemlomed to look upon the dark side, who see nq pleasure In living, vn
UHIUKnnd
thlsHyrup soon
learn to value nnd enloy life, find those win study deeply during loim hours, will fliul ii the Syrup a promoter orthe powesof ctulur in tne oraln.
There Is 110 doubt of th f^f&ct, that'an Im pnilPU IICI vwue vtuww v».». neuralgia, bronchitis, ly*pcp8l»i, aHtniuftj whooping cough, heart disease, and a host crt others. FELLOWS'
paired nervous system ciuflies consumption,!
llYPOi'iionritrricn, wlh%
effectually cures nervous debility, shonl'
uint'in« a* auuvvtH -t effectually cures nervous debility* Jinonl' cure these diseases also. "Remove tlio OHU and the complaint will cease."
HOT BPKTKOM, Ark., Fi b. '28,1KS0.
JAMKS I. FKLIXIWS, Dear Sir: 1 havo been prescribing your Hvpophosphltes for several years, both in Cana«Ia and the United, States, but more particularly at this famous resort for Invalids, where thousands annually congregate. For those in whom the brain anil nervous system has been exhausted from excesses or overwork, I have found no combl' nation of remedies so prompt and cffleaoloiit in restoring tho vital forces. every person needing relief will .. selves of si valuable a preparation
I hope that avail themn.
HospectfuU^
McMAHTEU(
i,|
FOR SALE BY ALL DRU0018T8.
Moore's (Len« Shaped) "V Sugar Coated
ore Core for Chill# 50.5C
Tho Great Malari^AjifWotc.<p></p>B1PS
Sold by Druggiitt
Dr. C. C. Moore, 78 Cortl.iruJt St. Ifcw York.
Inrtlublo to evory family*
A
THOROUGH REMKDY
In every ease of Fever Disorders of the Stomach, Torpidity of th« Liver. Indigestion and disturbances of th Animal forces, which equivalent and c»n should not to® confounded with the trltiirat compounds of
cheap
spirit* and^ psssntlal oil
oftensold under the name of Bitters. Fred ff.
Katwti»«ehf
Wine And Spirit Mer
luint, wholesale agent, 0.2W south Fourti reet, Terre Haute, Ind.
1HE AUTOPHONE
Is the cheapwt, beat, and most oomprehen* sfve automatic musical instrument evAT brought forth. It has twenty-two nates (six man than any other musical instrument) pteysln three keys: is simple In construction. It can be played by a child. It is absolutely qerfect In its rendition of muaie, beating its own tune, while all other* require fsurtcr or slower motion.
Does away with cranks and handles, being played by direct action of the bellows. 1. plays any of mnsle. Both Autophona and musk: are cheaper by tor than all others, geod for drcuia*-- Liberal discounts to canvasser*. Addrt*
JUTTOPHONE CO-
35^,. iTtfACA, N. Y.