Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 26, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 24 December 1881 — Page 2

Page PDF (9.82 MB)

Back to issue view

And evermore be merry."

A* in thoge time* gone by,

(i!ory to God on high, Pi O, blight and burning star, Be not from us afar

it TERRE

A PAPE* FOR THE PEOPLE.

rKRRE HAUTE, DBC. 24, 1881

CHRISTMAS.

CHKIHTMA#Is here "OjrUtmas is here!. Tlio merriest (lav- o( all the vear! The children rnlt? Instead of the men, And the gray old folks become children again.

"Without the door let xorrow lie, f.. And If for cold it bap to die, We'll bury It In a Christ ma* pie,

"Glad tidings waft once more, ,*% 'Angels who hymned of yore *v Messiah's birth jSlrig, voters of the sky,

eaceon earth.'

Distant nor^linj

Lead our frail barque aright. Silent but shining light,

AH on that hallowed night, Guide its to Him.'

Written for The Mail.

A Christmas Story.

BY ROBERT M. 8TKKRETT.

•clear cold air—"News, only two cents! and a little ragged fellow about eight years old came running up to a nicely dressed, pleasant looking old gentleman, and thrusting lib last paper toward hiin said, "paper sir, only two cents." And he shivered from head to foot as a gust of icy wind came whirling round the •corner, and hi* bauds wore blue with exposure to the Wintry weather.

The old gentleman pitied the little fel low, aiul more no this evening, perhaps, than tie would have done at any other time. It was Christmas eve, and one's heart seems to grow warmer and about Christmas time, and good thoughts and generous impulses seem to well up within the mind like a mighty fountain bubbling and splashing, and endeavoring to got out and prove a big wholesome blessing upon others. And in the bright crackling tire in the merry healthy laughter of merry children in the ringing of the church bells high up in the steeples toward Heaven in the clear frosty air, and all around everywhere, one seems to hear a song that angels sang long, long ago—"Peace on earth, good will toward men!"

Perhaps these were the thoughts of the gentleman as lie handed the poor .shivering boy a dime for his paper. "Keep it all," he said. "Never mind about the change." "Ob, I've got tho change," said the boy, "see here it is." And he banded out tho pennies, looking up at thogentleuinu his great deep blue eyes beaming with an honest light that neither cola nor hunger, nor anything but death itself could even destroy. "No, I'll make you "a present of the rest." "Oh, sir," his eyes becoming brighter thnu evor. "I'm awful obliged to ye. It'll jnat mako the 'mount exactly." "What amouut," asked the gentleman "Why you see, sir," he replied, with a thoughtful look upon tys face, "mother's beeu sick an' the' hain't nobody to donuthin' but me, an' Iwasagoin' to buy her a Christmas sift if I could sell 'nough papers, an' I'd sold 'em all 'cept this one, an' was git tin' awfal cold an' 'feared I couldn't buy mother no present, when you come along an' bought it, an' now I kin And he brightened up again as he thought of the present. "What is your naaie, uay boy,?!' next inquired the gentleman.

Bert," was the answer. "And what's your other name?" "Oh, just Bert. Hain't got no other namtfon'y that un." 1 "Well, Bert, where do you live?" lie thon told the gentleman where he lived down through the narrow streets, far out toward tho river opposite St. Marks church, and he ended by saying, "but 1 hain't goin' right home just n»#w, 'cause I'm goin' to get the Christmas present. And won't mother be tickled when she sees it in themorniug." "And I'll have to hurry up fast 'cause mother'n me hain't had no supper yet an' I'm gettin' awful hungry! And away he went down the street through the crowd on his errand of love.

He soon found the place where he had soon a small red shawl bangiug in the window, and going in he asked tho price •of it. "Sovcnty-live cents," was the reply. "I'll take it," said llert, promptly.

Tho shon keeper looked allttlocuriouslv at the little fellow as he handed down the shawl.

Bert counted his money over aud over .but could only mako seventy cents of it. "I've only got seventy cents." he said. •Guess I've lost a nickle. Couldn't let a •follow have it for that could you "Hardly sell it for that," said the shop•keeper—been selling them for eightv-five .all along."

Bert wan troubled indeed. He thought he had either lost Ave cents or made a miscalculation.

He looked si the shawl and thon at his money, and then with team in his eyes turned to go. "I guess I can lot yon Have It for that," said the shopkeeper kindly, "it's tho only one I have loft." And tying it up bo handed it to the boy who carried it out as proud and happy as could be, and a smile upon his face like the sunshine after a storm.

Ail night long he saw visions of a rod shawl, bright and warm and sometimes it would suddenly disappear, as things often do in dreams and he would move uneasily upon his pillow, and a moan would come up from his troubled little bosom, for all his happiness was staked upon his purchase of last night.

Bat soon it would return looking (brighter and raider than ever, and sometimes he would see a fringed border of old upon it, and be would wonder why ie had not noticed it before.

At other times, as he looked at it, It (teemed to grow wider and wider and 'longer and longer, nntil It Was a tert .great shawl indeed. And his hovish .heart would swell with delight, and ho wondered if It would stay as large until morning, Ub! if it only would! And 00 be lay and dreamed now grand and tfne his mother would appear when aba was really wearing It, and bow proud he would be, knowing he had bought It Abimself.

In the meantime, in tfceseaaUly liar* wished room below, lav tb* mother, never .jnco dreaming of the'happiness bar bo*

TOT

her. And as a*

4»td lb atom for her. And as aba let r*"\ the neigh^ rs watching by ber side 4 **d at on mother aa though tbey feared she might not see tbe Christinas morning. And the* talked in whispers, dsnd moved softly at tbe room, doing whatever there waa to bs dona for the

comfort of the aick woman. Slowlythe Sands upon the steeple 0lock across the street moved toward tbebourwhen they should ring out the gladftidingsover the great, slumbering city. 4

Slowly tbe small fire in the stove burned "itself away, au$l winking down into the ashes, died oofpiteer

Slowly and heavily the night shadows came down like a pall upou- the house where the poor woman lay so quiet and white—so very quiet the watchers could scarcely see the breathing at all.

Patiently they watched and waited. The room was getting very cold, and a heavy gloom hung about the place. It was now nearly midnight, and the hands upon tbe steeple clock kept creeping slowly but unceasingly toward the hour."

The wind blew in.gusts around the housetops, and down tbe deserted streets. The street lamps flickered with an tinsteady light, and at times were almost extinguished by the wind.

Everything waa dark and eold without. Within doors people slumbered and slept—some in warm, nicely furnished rooms, dreaming of the morrow and tbe happiness it would bring them.

Others, in more humble dwellings, but dreaming just the same, and as bright dreams, too, as though they were rich and owned a whole block of tine houses.

Among tbe latter class was Bert. Nothing seemed so grand and beautiful to him as that bright red shawl, growing wider and wider, and longer and longer, as bis little heart expanded with unalloyed happiness. What riches can buv such a dream as waa his? What gold can purchase a heart so full of melting tenderness and love as that poor newsboy had for his mother

By and by feie storm became less hnd less violent. Tbe wind came no longer in gusts, but blew steadily, and the sharp, whistling noise as it blew through the crevices of the buildings was changed to a long-drawn moaning that made the streets more lonely and desolate, as though a million wretched, hungry, starving souls were hovering through the night air, wailing and moaning with hunger and cold.

Then the miserable beings wore borne out upon tbe wind, over the housetops 'and were beard moaning far in the distance as the clouds broke, and high up in the Heavens—high above tbe church steeple, the stars began to shine upon the rich and the poor the good and the bad alike.

At length the noise ceased altogether, as the great bell in the steeple tola to the world that Christmas had come!

One after another the strokes were borne out upon the clear, frosty air, until the twelve were sent echoing and reeehoing down the streets and over the city. Then all was still again. And the soul of the dying woman waa carried out of the miserable dwelling and up above the world, where she had suffered so long—up to that world whore there is no sorrow nor pain, nor death, and where there is one long never-ending Christmas day.

At last the uigbt shadows began to roll up—up above the city, and the eastern horizon glowed with a rosy light. The blue smoke ascended slowly in long, straight columns from the chimney tops. At times the great doors of the great church across the street would open to admit some devout worshiper to early mass, and thon such a flood of harmony —of voices mingling together as one great voice, would pour forth in such grand hallelujahs, that even after tbe doors werecloscd again, the music would ring in the memory of the passers by. Persons began to appear more and more frequently upon the streets, and everyone seemed to be happy unless it was old Skinner as he eame down to his shop, rubbing his bands and walking hurriedly, but with small, careful steps, and grumbling because it was cold. And no wonder! He was only half clothed and too stingy to buy himself an overcoat or pair of gloues to keep him warm.

Ob, what a life to live! Hoarding up wealth, tolling early and late, and never any rest for mind or body. Toiling for what For a life of misery, and then to be laid away in a little narrow house at last, where no warmth can ever come where there are no golden opportunities for doing good for others no chance far, the heart to go out in warm and friendly sympathy for tbe thousands of unhappy beings there are in the world! Far oetter would it be to stand all day long beside the anvil and hammer out of iron one bright dollar a day And go home iu tbe evening and see the little miniature faces of your own, smiling at your coming, and the one sweetest face in all the world beaming with love for you, and then to know that hero you area verv King! jfo matter how hard the work has been all day, here is rest at last, and the rarest, fullest and most wholesome happiness ithat God ever permits a man to enjoy upon this earth.

Bert began to rouse himself, and after rubbiug his eyes with both fiats, he lay for a few moments trying to collect his thoughts, aud soon *tb# smile which spread over his face, would have told you had you seen it, that the great event of last night had not been forgotten.

He jumped out of bed and hurried into his clothes. And it was no very great task to dress, for he had few enough clothea to put on.

But what did he care. Heonly thought of bis mother, and I verily believe—nay, I am sure, bo found more pleasure fn this giving than he would have found in receiving. •When ha was finally dressed he looked once more at the shawl, then folding it smoothly, slipped noislessly down tbe ricketv stairs.

As ho entered the room where his mother lay, bo did not notice the look upon the neighbors' faces, who were afraid to tell the poor boy of his great misfortune. He went softly upon tiptoe teat he might wake her, and be hoped she would not sleep long, as lie was impatient to show her bow he loved ber.

As he came up ts the bed, he stooped down so quietly, so tenderly, and kissed her.

Why, how cold mother is," he said, "and we hain't got no more coal neither."

Poor mother," be repeated, in tbe same tone, See what I've got for yon. An' It'll make you so nice an warm." .But she'could not answer him.' She •nly lay there still and white, like the snow upon the ground outside.

Bert," said one of the neighbors, with team of sympathy in her eyes, yoar mother cannot bear yon now and then she hesitated before she could jjjo^on, bat finally continued, "she's

He stood upas be looked at the woman who had told him this, hia face grew deathly white, his great eves dilated, and the shawl dipped from his grasp in a heap upon tbe door.

For a few seconds be could not move. At last, staggering over to the bed be throw himself down beside bis mother, and amidst heart-broken aobs cried "Oh, mother, mother!"' And clasping ber lifeless form around the neck, be poured kisses thick and tut npon her cold lips.

Again, the great dock in tbeaieepie itatair.

float ypwaE^on love toHeaveil. Everything seeded to sing flat old^ old soslg. Everyonoaeemed happy. But iulliattiarkened foam a heavy gtbom had settled, and there lay the poor newsboy, holding in his arms, all he hid to love in the world.

He remained so long that tbe woman who had told him of his mother'a death, went to tfcfe bed to take him away. Bnt she found his little hands were aiscold as hia mother's. Tho eold, and rain and exposure, together with this last great overwhelming grief, had done their work. And the pitying angels threw es, ana open wide the gates, broker* boy went and to everlasting peace!

HAUTE SATCJRDAYtEVENIKG MATT.

be.thrown open and the*«nth6ms glLiJXxyarlwting

gnat doodfs a few momeni

the poor heart-

broke r\ boy went home to his mother,

Out upon the Prairie.

A CHRISTMAS STORY*

"For my part," said Clara Day to some of the young people gathered at the church social, "I am so brim full of benovolence since the Thanksgiving dinner that I do not know what 1 shall do about it, but I will be. something, and that before long. "Fortunately for you, Christmas is just at hand," said Charley Darling suggestfully." "Oh, all my Christmas presenta were finished long ago, and there is not much novelty about that. Father always wears out his dressing-gown about that time, and the boys' slippers grow shabby. Besides, that is no outlet for benevolence, for you give, not only expecting to receive again, but knowing that you will." "I have beeu thinking," said Dora Darling, and Dora's thoughts were sure to bring forth fruit, "that it would be nice to send some presents away to somo persons who never have a Merry Christmas, and give them one, for once." "To some poor minister," alyly said Fred Sharpe. "No,, to some poor children," said Dora. I "To the whole family, fathe£, mother and all," added Clara. "Let's. do it! W6'll send a box, a Christmas!" "To somebody away out West," said Fred. "And there shall not be one useful thing in it," continued Clara. "I wouldn't give much for your bbx then," said Hattie Smith. "A box of cigars," suggested Charlie Darling. "A barrel of "powder crackers," said Fred. "I mean such things as they would need to have anyway, Christmas or no Christmas," said Clara. "There are plenty of things ihat are pretty and useful,'r said Dora." "Clara doesn't mean those. Now if half a dozen of us join in it, we can make a splendid box for somebody.

fcHow_

should like it!" I $ "We are going to do it, ®f course," said Josie Sharpe, "but I want

know

first to whom it is going, and how large the children are, aud ail about it." "That is just what 1 want know," replied Dora. "It certainly would not do to select people at random." "There must be six children," said Clara, decidedly. "You caat fill up any kind of a box for less than aix."

And it must be a minister's faftiMv," said Hattie. "Perhaps Mr. Trunptn will fnow someone," said Charlie. "Mr. Truman being accordingly ualli in to tbe consultation, said that 1 know a family to whom such a pi would be most acceptable, andanight.be the means of doing good fRan any one could forsee." "The ministers name is'§r®7,"said Mr. Truman, "aud he was #%lassmate of mine in tbe seminary and had then a small family. He received an appointment aa home missionary, away off on the pnulriee of Iowa, and 1 have known little about him sln«e, until 1 lately learned that the Hoote Mission Society had decided to abanddn the field: but hie felt that he could not leave it, and wotdd remain as long as it was possible in anyway' to support bis family. He is a thoroughly good mah, and his: wife is a help-mate for him." "Just the ones for us, I should say," remarked Fred. "How many childiren has he?" asked Charlie. 7'

"I do not know,'1 answered Mr. Truman. "His oldest son must be twelve years old now and the little girl aboiut nine. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to write and And out about them, or would it be too much trouble, or wouldn't ther6 be time said Clara. "I tbink 1 can obtain the information you desire," said Mr. Truman. And so it came to pass that Mr. Grey, in his distant home, received a letter from his old friend, expressing so much sympathy and showing so much interest In him and his fnmily, that he immediately replied to it, and most unconsciously furnished all tbe informatiou that these young people could possibly want.

Soon many fingers were busy enough, and tbe tonf ues were not far behind, for all tbe preparations must be mads in one abort week.

Clara had said, "if the rest of yOu girls will do tbe sewing 1 will do tbe begging, only some one must go with me for company."

Tbe "some one" proved to bo Dora's youngest sister, Nellie, and together they soon made known their plans to half the people in the viliiage. Tbey paid ail early visit to the shoe-stores and actually succeeded in obtaining two pairs of shoes at each place. "Tbey will be sore not to lit," said iSiolii©* "Oh, never fear," said Clara, con ft dently "if thoy do not lit one they will another," and they packed them snugly and triumphantly into a white box and tied it with a ribbon as if it bad been confectionery. Into the grocery stores they next looked and talked tbe matter over. "You will not have space for a barrel of flour. I suppose," said one gentleman "No/' said Clara, "but pounds of tea and coffee would do instead, thank yon, and spice-boxes would flii ap space beautifully, and perhaps we could crowd in a can of corn or tomatoes.'!

They dropped in at the book store wbere Charlie Darling happened to be on duty, and be and Clara quickly arranged the matter of sUtionoiy and picture books. Mr. Truman wished to send a certain number of books to Mr. Grey hitiaetf. "We moat certainly call oa Mis. Elliott," mid Nellie." "Oh, I dread it," answered Clara "and do sot know why, for she will be

Mrs. EUiott^teaed very courteously and kindly to their story, smiled at their earnestness, and thought how beautiful it was to be young and enthuthey mart soon

ly the Home Mission

Again, the great dock in tbe steeple man's doty to stay and let hia family b£i#ht attheappei rang out upon tne air. Agnia, and again sofier. Bat it ia evident you will not pen for Uw baby.

Ket them suffei this year, at least," noticing the look of disappointment on their faces, "and tho* Bible says, 'It is more blessed to givo*,ihan receive.' I don't know that 1 HMO anything to give, unl®88 this chroQM, would be worth sending. ireame t#trrfe with a foiagarine."

It was really a very pretty picture neatly framed, and the girls accepted it with many thanks and went away. "I suppose we young fellows will said-Fred do not know"

"I assure yotrit will not be 'stupid' at all to the one who receives it," said Mr. Truman.

Swiftly now eomes on the Christmas times, and merrily ring sweet Christmas bells. There are few homes too lofty to admit the genial influence of the time, and few too humble to feel its good ckeer. For the children everywhere it is made the one gala-time of the year, perhaps in remembrance of the dear Christ-child who once lived on the earth, and whose coming should bring joy to every heart.

Almost sadly it came to Mr. Grey's log cabin home. He sat wearily in his arm-chair by the fire while his wife was near him hushing her baby to sleep. As he glanced at the row of stockings hanging against the wall, hesaid: "Perhaps it is not right to the children to remain and struggle on as we are doing. I never intended to let the Christmas pass by unremembered, but I have not had a dollar to expend this time." "Never mind," said Mrs. Grey, cheeri ly. "The children will have some little things which I have made for them, and 1 have baked some of the most wonderful ginger-bread men, and with some rosy apples and pop corn twills they will do very nicely, id^orace is advancing faster with your teaching than he would do at the best school in the land, aud Jeannie is learning to be a fimous little house-wife, while the others have this pure air to brepthe and are growing hearty and strong. We will not give up just yet." "I have really not thought of leaving the post where 1 believe the Lord has placed me, dear wifo. Tne harvest is sure to folloW the seed sowu in tears and self denials, and sometimes I think 1 see signs of its coming. That young farmer whose only child we buried last week seems to me not far from the Kingdom. The future does not look dark to me, but how we are to live in the present is the question just now." "You forgot our big turkey which is to give us such a grand dinner to-mor-row," replied his wife, determined not tx yield to any gloomy view of their prospects, "and if we can't have a plumpudaing, so much tbe better for possibly dyspepsia. 1 have no fear that the bar' rel of meal will lail Yxs although it does get almost empty sometimes."

There) was chattering enough among the children in the upper room. Are you afraid that Santa Claus will forget us this time, Jeannie?" askod little Helen. "No, why should ho?" answered Jeannie." "Oh, because It snows so fast and he has so far to come."

Well Santa Claus is just papa and mamma, and they never forget us/' said practical Jeannie.

What makes you tell her that?" called Horace from nis corner. "Do let hor enjoy Santa Claus a few years longer."

But Helen's faith was not shaken— papa and mama coming down the chimney that was a likely story—of course it was old Santa Claus himself. "la to-morrow really Jaaus Christ's birthday asked thoughtful Frankie.

A great many people believe that it is," answered Horace. "I suppose no one really knows, but no other day has ever beeu kept as this

090

is."

"I think He ought to have a present, then, if it IS His birthday, instead of everyone having them," aud Frankie, to whom presents and birthdays wore inseperable. .. "We can't give Him anything, you• know, everything is -his already," said Horace, but even a»he spoke this verse dashed into his mind: "My son, give Mo thine heart," and it followed him after the other children: were sleeping soundly—^Thy heart'--"givo Me"—"My son." How itind and affectionate the address—"My son," and here was something that not only could be given to Jesrns, bat that he desired to have, and asked for it. "Thy heart," the love of the heart, the hope aud trust, the homage of the heart, and tho next day would surely be a suitable time to offer the gift —but how and he had not the time to think about itanditall became rather confused, and he was sleeping too with the others when the mother came to see that they were properly tuckod in for tbe night.

On Christmas morning silence reigned all over the broad prairie so spotlessly white with the new fallen snow. There was anything but silence in Mr. Grey's bouse, as the jpatter of little feet were heard at daybreak and the shouts of "Merry Christmas!' Thestookiuss were pulled down and very soon emptied of their oont4nts, the apples rolled out upon tho floor, the ginger-bread men set up in a soldier-like way, and as much confusion as four eager children could pais* sibly make In five minutes.

Littlo Helen was quite happy With! a now rag doll and Frankie with a nerw pair of mittens, and if Jeannie and Horace felt any disappointment they, said nothing, but Jeannie sat down to hold the baby and Horace went out to shovel some paths. Beginning at the back dobr, he soon had a path around the house, wben, here was a discovery! Behold, a big box on the front door step! When hs reached it aud brnsbed tbesuow from the top, there was ,his father's name in large letters.

Jihrating into the house he cried,, Hurrah 1 father, there a big box out hers for

Mr. Grey could scarcely believe him but, coming out, found it true, and together, they brought it into tbe house.

When it was opened and on a card appeared Merry Christmas 1" and vanous'packages were seen, marked, "For Mrs. Grey,-'tS Fbr the Baby," etc.. then it dawned upon them. "A Christmasbox 1" exclaimed Mr. Grey.

I suppose Santa Ciau* couldn't get it down tbe chimnev," remarked Helen but no one heanf hetand now tbe wonderful unpacking and tbe rejoicings began. Was there ever such a box before, or so many separate bundles of delight «ro#dedintosoimaHa|Bpaoe? The neat package* at the top were found to contain dresses—a soft, dark merino for Mrs. Gray, gay plaids for the little girls, bright flannel for the baby—velvet enough for a bonnet, and three hoods of different ataa,: and two warm eapa— heavy doth enough for an entire aoit for Mr. Grey, beatdea a dreaaing gown, of course, and material for the boys* suits. Underneath these panels seemed to be a nsedley scarfs and akstea. dolls and rattle-boxes, work-boxes and portfolio*, toys withlies did not

Grey

looked on with increasing wonder, and the discovery of the shoe box drew oat osh exclamations which readied their

knows bat tbe condition of tbe and I consider it doubtful if it to the man's duty to stay and lei hia family b£i#ht at the appearance of bronse dip*

i# Thf picture, too, looked very handsoms' against the rough wall. At the last came the beet of the feast—books, books for all, story hooks, and sohool books and«religious books—a complete set ol" Prescotrv Histories," marked for Horase, which made him feel suddenly as. if he were the richest man in Iowa, while Jennie was equally wealthy with her set of Little Purdy*' boobs. Then there were magazines for each, from the Quarterly down to the Nurservaud Our little Ones and a copy of the'Standard with a yellow label marked a vtir iu advance. After tbe last thing, a beadle •f sermon papers had beeu taken out, Mr. Grey sat down to take breath.

Then ne said, This is Earnest Truman's work!" But he afterward found a note from Mr. Truman, disclaiming all credit in the matter, and saying ft was a happy thought of one of the ladles of his church. Accompanying this waa a generous roll of bills! and now having reached the end they began to live it all over again.

Horace had his own* thoughts all through the day. The more they were loaded down with presents the more it seemed to him that he could not refuse the one gift that the Savior asked, and he said to his father that night:

Father, I am trying to give my heart to Jesus for His Christmas gift." My son, this makes meliapnier than anything that has occurred to-oay."

And what of Dora, whose thought had been so beautifully wrought out? Ah, she had that morning read the words:

DBAR DARLING: You have lavished a wealth of gifts upon those whom you have never seen will you grant me the Christmas gift for which SOlf. ..•/

long—your-

ERNEST NBWMAN.

And she aid not know which was mors blessed, to give or receive.

IsNifrr

KITIETS WANTS. BT KVA M. TAPPA*I.

,,, Me want a Christmas tree, Yes me do Mi! Want an orange on It

Lots of candy, too.,

With a very long tail.a, Want a little watch That says "Tick, Tick!" Want a newer dolly. si. "Cause Victoria's siclr.'

Want so many things, vif Don't know what to do, Wanta little sister. ».»,.•

Little brother, too.'*1

A HEAVY SWELL.

Jacob H. Bloomer, of Virgille, N. Y.. writes: "Your Thomas' iSclectric Oil cured a badly swelled neck and sore throat on my sou in forty-eight houra one sppllcation also removed the pain from a very sore toe: my wife's foot was also much inflamed—so much so that she could not walk about the house she applied the oil, and in twetiiy-four hours was entirely cured.*'

OVER indulgence in eating and drink-

whereby the Liv$f is disorganized, tbe system .deranged. Tbe suffering resulting from dyspepsia is very terrible, and the sooner tho patient can get relief the bettor. There Is no remedy so effectual for the cure of this disease as Si mons' Liver Regulator.

D. B. Dobsou, M.1D. of Deer Parka'Ala., says "I have used tbe regulator for eight months, and find it has cured roe eatirely of dyspepsia. It is tbe best medicine I ever used for that disease, or rather it is the only one that has proved satisfactorv."

THE'ltnlmediatelv beneficial

EFFECTS

fol

lowing tbe use of Fellows' Hypophosphites in those cases of emaciation and weakness produced by long illness, whether from pulmonary diseases or fevers, prove its tonic Virtues and its value in accelerating disestlon and assimilation.

The soluble Hypophosites and tbe other life sustaining principles composing Fellows' Hypo phosphites are so carefully proportioned, and so judiciously mingled that their action |upon the nerves, muscles and membriines in imparting vitality, strength and healthy action, is generally apparent within twenty-four noii'rs, and toe good effect# experienced are of a permanent chahiotcr.—Exchange.

WOMKN that have been pronounced incurable by the best physicians in the

to Mrs. Lydia K. Plnkbam, 233 Western Avenue, Lynn, Mass., for pbamphlets.

NOTING THE EFFECTS. R. Ofbhs, of Buffalo, 2f.' Y., writes: "Hearing your Burdock Blood Bitten favorably spoken of, 1 was induced to watch their effects, and find that in chronic diseases of tbe blood, liver and kidneys, your liters have been signally marked with success. I have used them myself with best results, for to: of the liver and in the case of a friend of mine suffering from dropsy, tbe effect marvelous." Price $1.00, trial size 10 cents.

A CARD.

To all who am snflferlng from the snots and indlscTOttoos of youth, nsrvons wesk•esa, early decay,k»of manhood, Ac* I will send a recipe that will cars you, FREE OF CHA8G& Hrfs great rsmsdy was discovered by a mlarionary to Sooth America. Send a Mlf-«ddraaMd envelope to tbe Ber. Joseph Ino|o,8Utioa D. New York City, at-te.

(ISM per year can be easily mads at home working for E. O. Rideoot 4c Co., 10 Barclay Street, New York. Send for their eatalofae and loll pattfeoJaca,

Professional Cards. O. 'LINCOLN,

BEVTIST

Office, 19)$ H. Sixth, opposite r. o. bU. traetlng and artificial teeth specialties. *l! work warranted. (d&w-tjf

G.W

BALLEW,

DENTIST,

Mlee, 439^ Main Street, over 8*4 •Id Ooafeetloaery stand. rT

TKRRKHADTK..N!,,,,

Can be foond ia office night ana da

J. RICHARDSON. R. W. VAW VALZAB. RICHARDSON & VAN VALZA

DENTISTS.

OFFICK—Southwest corner Fifth and Mali streets, over National State Bank (entrant on Fifth street. Communication by Teli phone. I

EMOVAL.

J„w *r

Dr. J. P. Worrell, '1

OCIiUST and JURIST, 630 Mala Street (McKeen Block), TERRE HAUTE, IND. Oraica HOURS—8 a. m. to 13 M„

GAGG,

,0i

AVant somo new dishe«, Want a red pail, Want a rocking horse,

..Mibt'

-t

Won'tyou buy 'eu, mamma on .% .Want to go to bed id,

N a

WORTH A DOZEN DEAt MEN RICHMOND, VA., May 20,1881, •My physician, after exhausting me financially, cooly informed me that my case was hopeless, that no remedy would reach my case, and it was entirely useless for me to continue taking medicine. I was told that one lung was gone and that my bowels and kidneys were all decayed. I suffered excruciatingly from the horrors of dyspepsia and painful urination, and my breath came short and quick, while my heart at times ceased to beat entirely, while again it would thump most vehemnently. A sister of mine, a Mrs. Rhorer, in Baltimore, wrote to father advising him to get me Brown's Iron Bitters. From the very first dose ielt ohanga uow o.ll pain is gone, my digestion is good, tny urine is free from sediment, and my alnmber uubroken and dreamless. I now feel perfectly restored, and go about and do as much work as ever I did, and I do not feel the least fatigued.

2 to

AGNER A RIPLEY,

importers and workers of

Soetob arsaite *a«l Italian Mnrhf

MONUMENTS, "1

S A A S a No. 413 Cherry St., bet. 4th and 6th.

TBVKK HAUTE, INI

AL THOMAS, w,' \»sl Opticisa aad Wat£btut»ker

For tho trade, No. alj Main *lreel, slil of big wan with toateu.

DEALER IN

ARTISTS' SUPPLIES

PICTURES, JfRAMES, MOULDING^

1*5(1 ti

Picture Frames Made to Orded

.MoKeeu's Block, No. 646 Main atra| between 6th and 7th.

PERSONShavea

Afflicted with PILES to ad'ei

me. I never failing core, apl cation made by patient* without pain or I convenience. Personal examination or vl not required. Positively no charge for tret ment until pormantly cured.

For full particulars address with stamp.'*] DR.L. VOLKKRS, 636 Main St. Terre Haute, Iud., or Dennlson, Illr

*1-37 iw

RANK PRATT,

Ias porter •sd i»e*lor In

ITALIAN MAKBLE AND ORANl

MONUMENTS,

Statuary, Yaseg, &c., &cJ COR. FIFTH AND WALNUT 9

TERRE HAUTE. IND.

T^otfcE TO THE PUBLIC'!

I the undersigned have opened a receAJf Room in the rear of No. 17 South wl Street, where I am prepared to receive 111 Tallow, Grease of any kind, Pork anda Cracklings and Bones wnether green 01H for which Iwlli pay the highest cash pa And will also buy Dead Hogs by the»1 hog or car load, Hogs recel vetl on the 1 soutli-westof the city, at the factory ofllo 17 South Second Street, in the rear enti] from the alley. Terre Haute Ind.

HARRISON SMI

KELLEY:

tRAGRANT

Is prepared with great from th« best and

carefully selected materials, warrant represented, and commended by manvJ ful physicians and dentists cleanses thoroughly heals and hardens soft spongy gums in a short time. If dlrec are carefully observed. Contains no 1 acid, nor anything but what Is beucfl

Urns and teeth, and is agreeable Itlonal directions and hints wit.

tbe A bottle. Price, 85c. For sale prlncipa. b^drujj^lstA. Indianapolis wholesa^s

Willard Hotel Lotte

DRAWING

ltli February, 1882, OK HONEY KEFI M)EU| IIOU19VU.BE,

KT., NOV. IU,

Received,That the Board Commissi consent to a p'rft jionprncnt of ihcdrnwjl the WUlani Hotel Lottery,until the 14tf of February. 1«82, and that they will nod sent to any farther delay of the same

ROBT, MAMJOBY, Chalrnr

By the above resolution this drawing Snd wiil be nod on tbe day flxed. or ir be dirtrlbated heck to tleket-holden*,

If enough tickets are sold before datgj the drawing will be had, and notior* same will be given through the paper

LIST OF PRIZES:

Willard Hotel with all ftOfiO I Its Furniture A Fixing*) One Kesldebce on Green street One Residence on Green street Two C»«h Prises, each 16,000— Two Cash Prizes, each 12,000... Five Cash Prises, each 91,000......—..... Five Cash Prizes, each $ 600

B0 Cssb Prises, each 9100.. 100 Ctosh Prises, each 60.....^..^ £00CashPrisaceacb 120~.~. One Set of Bar Furniture One Fine Piano., One Handsome Silver Tea Set-..-...... 440 Boxes Old Bourbon Whiskey, $36.. 10 Boskets Champagne, 186.... 600 Cush Pri«es,e*ch $IQ.„ 400 Boxes Fine Wines. 130 ——. 300 Boxes Robertson Co. Whlskey,S90« 400 Boxes Havana Cigar*, 110 600 Cash Prises, eaeti 510

AstssBflBfC

§S69,S50.

Whole Tickets, 18 Halves. 94 Quartt Remittances may be made by Bank 1

Ives. 94 Qnar made by Bank

jgrgress, Postal Money Order, or BcgtJ Responsible agents wanted at all For drenlarfc cdvtng tor tickets, add

full luforinatk

W. €. D. Willi

Wiilanl XlUoi, Louisvllls,