Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 1, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 July 1882 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

HAPPY LOVE.

While they sat before the fire, Nothing more did he desire, Then to get a little nlgher,

If he could

Anil ill* heart beat high and higher, And tier look grew shy and shyer, When be iddled op do«t* by her,

A* he should.

Then he ventured to inquire If her sister, Jane Mariar, And her mother and her sire,

Were quite well?

And from time to time he'd eye her, Am though he would like to buy her, And hi* bashfulnew was dire,

For a spell.

Then hi* husty throat grew dryer, Whew he told her that the "Squire To him-elf would gladly tie her

If she would

Might he now go auk her sire? And he thought he would expire, When nhe said, to hi* desire,

That he could

Serena.

From the Atlantic Monthly. More than twenty years ago Serena Hedding drove through the gateway of her father1!* farm, while her little son held the creaking gate open. Her vehicle was a low buggy, with room at the back for a sack of nubbins, which the scrawny white horse would appreciate on hi.s return trip. The driver was obliged to cluck encouragement to him as he paused with his head down, in the gateway and before he had taken ten steps forward, before Milton could stiok the pin back in the post-hole and •camper to his neat at her left side, she lived her girlhood over. She saw her father holding that gate open for camp-meet-ing or protracted meeting folks to drive in todfnnei with liim. She saw Milton Hedding ride through to court her, and the scowl her father gave him and the buggy which waited for her in the woods one afternoon, herself getting into it,and Milton whipping up his horse to carry her away forever.

The road wound, folding on itself, through dense woods. Nothing had changed about the road. She noticed that the old log among the haw saplings remained untouched. That log was a link binding her childhood to her girlhood. She sat on it to baste up the hem of her ridiculously long dress before jgoing to school, her dinner-basket waiting near and coming home in the evening, nhe there ripped the basting out, lest Aunt Lindy should notice that her skirt did not Hop against her heels, as proper nkirtH had done in Aunt Lindy's childhood. Seated on this log, she and Milton had talked of the impossibility of their marriage, and decided to run away.

It was so near sunset that the woods wereln mellow twilight. She beard the cows lowing away oft, and a loaded wagon rumbling over the Feeder bridge. The loamy incense of this ancestral land was so swreet that it pained her. Soon the inse would come in sight, and seem to strike her on the face. If they had altered it any, she did not know it. Was her father1!* sick-bod down stairs,or did Aunt Lindy keep him above the narrow staircase? The slippery-elm tree she used to wound for its juicy strips started out at the roadside to give her scarry welcome. Her lingers brushed her cheeks, and drew the the black sun-bonnet further over them. "What's tho matter, mother?11 inquired her light-haired boy. "Are you feared grandfather's worse?1' "I hope ho ain't,"ropIied Serena. Then the house, on its rising ground, apjKiared, crossed by trees. It had a yard in which lilac bushes and fall hollyhocks bordered the path. Tho gate opentd into an orchard, and the orchard was guardod from the lane by bars, which Serena's little boy let down, and they drove in. lier father's barn was one of those immense structures which early Ohio farmers built to indicate their wealth. It had always seemed bursting with hay and grniti, and the stamp of horses resounded from its basement stables.

Serena looked piteously at the house. Vehicles of various kinds were fastened all along the fence. Still, no solemn voice or sound of singing reached her ear. It had long been the Jeffries custom to hold services over their dead at tho house. No feather-bed hung across the guidon palings neither was the hideous cooling-board standing up anywhere, like a wooden tombstone. Hut the whole neighborhood was there. He must be very low indeed.

The youthful widow and her boy alighted, and tied their horses in a humble corner near ho wood-pile. Nobody came out to m-eive them. That was another Iwd sign. She was cram (ted by her long ride. If her suspense had not Ix'on so great she must huvo felt a pang shame at the shabby appearance of her son and herself, on this first return from exile.

Tho houso dog barked, waking suddenly from his meditations to lenrn who they woro and what they wanted. But he recollected that a great r.any strangers had l»oen coming and goingYecently. and, considering his duty done, trotted l«ack and stretched himself to snap llles.

Serena felt obliged to go around to the front of the house, though the back doorstop showed the wear of her childish fool. Hut as she jiassed the first rosebush, Milty trotting in the white path behind her, a woman came from the back porch, holding a handkerchief over her cup, the ribbons of which flew back on each side of her neck. The light glared on her spectacles. She was as trim and quick as a young girl. Her dross, cap*1, and apron were of the same material, and her waist was fastened in front with a sniky row of pins. "Serene Heddin'!" she exclaimed, with the spring in her voice which Serena romemN'red comparing to the clip of a mouse-trap, "von're not goin' into the front door to scare your father to rfeath in his last moments." "Oh. Aunt I-iady," said the shabby widow, lifting her bands, "is he as bad as that?"

He's been struck with death all the afternoon. You come in this way." "Can't I sw him?*' asked Mrs. Hedding, climbing over the back diHirstone, llkea suddenly exhausted pilgrim, b^r face quivering under stminis of tmrs.

Through open doors she recognised in the parlor and sitting-room croups of old neighbor*, waiting in that hush with •which they always accompanied each other to the brink of death.

A woman came from among them, whispering. "Who's this, I,l»dy?"' and immediate)? informing herself: "Why, Sereny Jertr's! Have you got here? Come right in to your pap. He's pretty nigh gone." "It won't do no good. Sister Mciiaffcrty," said Aunt Ijndy. "H® won't know her. and 'twill disturb him. She va» postin" in at the front door when I -augh* her." declared Aunt Lindy, as if speaking of a thief.

Si*tc MciJaUVrty, a comfortable, larg* woman in blue spectacles, the presiding

elder's wife, and therefore a person authority, still beckoned Serena in, and gbe passed Aunt Lindy, followed by her Imre-footed boy. The round-posted bedstead was drawn out from the wall, and UDder its sheet and many-colored quilt lay the old farmer, his mouth open, his eyes glazed, his narrow brows and knotty features wearing a ghastly pallor. But behind the solemn terror of that face was her father.

Aunt Lindy followed, and twitched her el bow, thereby creating a faction in Serena Heddings's favor among the spectators. They were all well-to-do people, who noticed her dejected attitude toward the world, and had always disapproved of her thriftless match. _Bik thev said within themselves that Lindy Miller was going too far when she tried too pull a daughter away from herdymg

^"Ain't you 'shamed to disturb bis last peaceful minutes!" Aunt Lindy hissed with force.

But the returned culprit fastened such desparate interest on the unseeing eyes of her father that Aunt Liudy's interruption was as remote to her as the gambols of loose horses in the pasture.

If there had now been time and opportunity Serena could not argue her case with him. He never had allowed that. She could not tell how true and happv her marriage was, in spite of his disapproval and its accompanying poverty. She bad suffered, but her heart had ripened so that she could discern and love the good in human nature across its narrow bounds. Words or expression did not occur to herf but a thousand living thoughts swarmed in her mind. If he would look at her again with reconciliation in his eyes, she could be satisfied, and bear all her future trials like benedictions. Neveraloving father he was, until her disobedience, a fairly kind one. He was a verylreligious man of the old sort, believing seriousness to be the primary principle of godliness, and levity a fermentation of the inward Satan. He always paid his quarterage and contributed to foreign mission, while every successive preacher on the circuit used his house as home. The deep groves making a trainage of bis upper lip showed how constant and sad nis meditations had been. Yet this old farmer was in some matters timid and self-distrustful,and so lond of peaceand quiet as.to yield his rights for them. "Father," pleaded Serena Hedding, bending closer to him. "Father!" Unconsciously she repeated the name like a cry. The hum of his bee-hives against the garden palings could be heard. Did a ray dart across his leaden brain from the afternoon his only child, in short coats, poked a stick in the bee-hives, and feeling the results of her folly, wailed thus to him Did he imagine himself again dropping the rake and leaping the fence to run with her from hertormen--ors? A flicker grew through the glazing of his eyes, and became a steady light, a look, a tender gaze, a blessing. She clasped her hands, and rocked before him in ecstacy. He knew her, and revealed, midway over the silent chasm of death, how unalterably close and dear she was to him. In that small eternity of time they were knitted together as never before. His eyes began to glaze again,Jand the remembered Milty. Pushing the child forward, she cried again, "Mv boy, father! See my boy!"

The old man saw him. That rigid face was too set to smile but with the image of his child's child on his ej'es, the hope of future generations of his blood he passed away.

A little time was allowed for the wailing that rises around every death-bed. The overtaxed young widow rocked her son against her, while he gazed about him in awe. Aunt Lindy stood by the bed-post, burying her face in her apron. Her son Hod Miller, a huge creature, very black-eyed, brightJcomplexion,and having the appearance of possessing no immortal soul, sat nearer tne foot of the bed, with his legs crosscd and his shoulders hung forward, looking respoctfully eoncemed. There were nojother near relatives except Jessie Jaffries and his wife who covered their faces while this elder brother lay in the first dignity of death.

Then a quiet bustle began. Sister McGafferty took Serena Hedding out of the parlor, and made her lie down on thesit-tlng-room straw-tick lounge, and smell camphor. Milty wandered out-of-doors and was grateful to a neighbor's boy, forbidden the house and enjoined to watch the horses, who told him, after an exchange of scrutiny, that ho dursn't take a dare which 'ml reach tho medder fence first. The men took charge of the body. They closed the parlor doors, and with basins of water, clean linen, and the new store suit Aunt Lindy's forethought had ready in the house, performed those solemn rites to which all our flesh must humbly come. One mounted a horse and rodo to MillOrsjKirt for the undertaker. Little Jimmy Holmes, who was a middle-aged man, but had a father known as Old or Big Jimmy, was informed by his wife that lie could go home now, and look after the tnilkin'and feedin': she would stay here and tend to things. Into her capable hands Aunt Lindy appeared to resign the house, while little Jimmy and their son. Little Jimmy Jimmy, drove into the pleasant dusk.

After inquiring about the date of the funeral, and detailing watches for the intervening nights, the other neighbors slowlv dispersed in squads. Lights appeaml about the house, and tholkitchen and cellar yielded up their prepared good things.

Before they had reached home the neighbors began to speculate about the disf option of the property. They said Moses Jeffr's had been a hard worker, and his sister Lindy had been a hard worker, and she had kept his house for more than twenty veare 'twould be no more than right tor him to leave her well off. She had been savin1 with what her man left her, and Hod Miller had done a son's part by the old man. Money goes to them that lays up. Some said that Mr. Jeflr's had cut off Sereny with a cent in bis will. Sereny ought to knowed better than to done as she did. It was a pity, specially as she was left a widow woman, with a little boy to raise. But when a person makes their l*»d, they got to lie in it. How tickled Mr. Jeffr's was when Sereny was a little girl experiencin' religion He never thought then she would go and run off. She had a good home, and he would have done well by her.

On the other hand, there was folks talk among the Serena faction, whose hearts melted toward the girl when she rocked before her father. They said there never would have been any trouble Iwtween Moses Jeffr's and his daughter, if Lindy Miller hadn't managed things. Milt Heddin' was a good feller, only he hadn't the nack of gettin' along. But he could have worked the farm as well as Hod Miller. They wanted Sereny to have her right*, ft was a scandal and a shame If that big able-bodied feller, with land of his own, could turn her off the homo place.

Serena wandered about the house, which strangers seemed to possess, crying over familiar objects. She had large violet eyes, and was once considered as pretty a girl as come to meeting, though her Iip» w-ere to prominent and full. She locked shabby and piteous. Sister Mc-

Gafferty combed her hair for her, while her trembling, work-worn hands lay in her lap. "They've borried a black bonnet and dress for vou, Sister Sereny," eaid the elder's wife, who had been around the circuit when this sorrowful creature was a shy child. "1 might have worn a better dress and bonnet. But, when word came, I felt so bad I didn't think of anything. They didn't let me know he was so near gone."

A

Milty 8pent his time out-of-doors. He approved of the barn and did not approve of Aunt Lindy. His mother had said, "Aunt Lindy, this is my boy."

And unt Liud'v had said, "He looks spindlin', like the Heddin's. I hope you're raisin' him to obedience. hi 1— dren set on their own way gives their parents plenty of sorrow to sup."

This spry great aunt's glasses detected him if he touched a daguerreotype among the glaring, upright array on the sitting-room table, or ventured too near the fine men and women pasted on the fireboard.

She took him to see his grandfather after the laying-out, turned back the ghastlv sheet,'which was stretched between two chairs, removed cloths from the dead man's face, and warned the boy to prepare for death. He never afterwards inhaled the pungent odor of camphor without turning laint.

At table he and his mother huddled together, feeling scarcely welcome to the abundant food. Little Jimmy Holmes' wife, with a number of helpers, kept the table burdened with every country luxury, but Aunt Lindy saw that the best was reserved until the great final dinner on. the day of the funeral.

That day was censidered a credit to Moses Jeffries. It was one of the largest luuerai ever known in those parts. The weather was pleasant, and Summer work so well advanced that everybody could feel the pressure of neighborly duty.

Carriages and fine horses nearly filled the orchard space in front of the house the yard was darkened with standing men in their best black clothes. Not half the people could get into the parlor. There Elder McGati'erty lifted his hands, praying and preaching over the old farmer, who looked so unused to his collar and neckcloth an^ the brandnew suit when they took off his coflin-

A number of men wandered down by the barn the hymn-singing came to them, faint and plaintive, in gusts of couplets, just

as

the preacher lined the

words--. One of them remarked that old Mr. Jeffr's left things in pretty good shape, and he s'posed Hod Miller wouldn't alter them much. Another thought that Serene Heddin' would come in for a sheer, if not all. A man may be put out with his children, but he'll favor them when it comes to such serious business as makiu' a will. Hod Miller had bought and sold and made a good deal of money on that farm—enough to pay for bis work. He oughtn't to stand in Sereny's light. "What's she been doin' since her man died?" inquired the first speaker, shaving off long whittlings from a piece of pine. 11" Workin' out, 'pears like I heard. She got a place near Lancaster, where they'd let her keep her boy with her. It's my opinion," said the second speaker, spitting a flood, and letting his spiky chin work up and down with slow rumination, "that old Lindy kept her away from her pap aslong as she could, for fear there be a makin' up." "Oh, sho! The old man was very set in his ways. He didn't need bullyraggln' to make up his mind and keep it made up. Hod Miller might marry the widder now, and that'd settle all claims." "I don't believe she'd have him," said the chewer, smiling. "Jesse Jeffr's thinks Sereny's all right. He claims be seen the will.'*

The whittlcr scoffed at such claims. Jesse Jeffries was held in light esteem by his old neighbors. He sold his farm, and had such a hankering for town life as to settle in Millersport, where the Deep Out of the Ohio canal is, and lose every cent of it in grocery-keeping. What Jesse Jeffries said or did thereafter was small importance. His record sleew him.

There was bustle at the front of tne house. Both men squinted at the sun, and watched a long black object with shining dots upon it coming through the door, borne by stout young farmers. The men in the yard raised their huts. After the coffin came Serena, on her Uncle Jesse's arm. He shutlied along uncomfortably, as if not u6ed to showing such attention to the women-folks. After them came Hod Miller and his mother, and Jesse Jeffries1 wife with Serena'sboy. Sister McGafferty considered this the proper order of procession, and had so managed it. Streams of people gushed from all the outlets of tho house the carriages filled and were ar ranged inline the long black serpent trailed down through the woods and the women remaining to prepare dinner stood and counted, until they declared it beat everything. It was a pleasant sensation to be at such a populous funeral.

When Jessie Jeffries foretold the contents of the will, he did not speak without authority, for it had been left in his hands. After a hearty dinner, at which many tablefuls of neighbors assisted, he importantly called the possible heirs together,

and

theirfactionssat by to listen.

Aunt Lindy was neither nervous nor bowed with grief. She had done her duty, and knew what her deserts were. Her son Hod tipped back In his chair, and twitched his shirt-collar. He wanted to have the thing over, and was not without doubts of his succeeding to the estate. If it came t« him he meant to hold it. His hands were as strong as a vice, and typified his grip on the property. Serena might try to break the will, but if she lawed until Judgment Day he would not give her a ceut he was not obliged to give her. Womenfolks were a sort of cattle he bad no fancy for. 'Curious eyes were watching Serena, and speculating on her emotions. She was pale and quiet. Herson stood beside her.

The testator's brother broke the seal, and began to read. The testator, after stating his sanity and general ability to execute such a document, giving the numbers of bis various lauds and enumerating his parcels of property in the tedious and highjrescribed by law, bequeathed it all to kis beloved daughter, Serena Jeffries, and her heirs, the said Serena being enjoined to pay a stated annuity to her aunt, the testator's beloved sister, and also to make over to her certain chattels particularly named also a legacy five hundred dollars to her cousin, Howard Miller.

sounding repetition it all to

Sister McGafferty poked the camphor bottle toward Serena, bat it, was declined.

Still the poor girl could not believe this. Disinheritance bad been so long accepted as part of the penalty of her marriage that she scarcely thought of it as injustice. But to have the homestead

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY -EVENING MAIL

for her own was a rise which made her dizzy. After gazing on her with satisfaction through his glasses, Unclc Jesse turned the paper over, and rapidly read a small codicil, which nevertheless choked him. He knew nothing about this part of the will. It destroyed Serena Hedding's claims, on account of her disobedience, and made Howard Miller unconditional heir^

So that settled the matter. Serena turned whiter. It was a shock, after realizing one instant the possession of competence. "I 'low Mozy must have put that on the day he took it away to have more added^ he said," remarked Uucle Jesse huskily. His good wife, who was all capriuiand beak, with a thin ueek and general air of scrawniness, sat with her claws crossed in silent sympathy. Jesse and his wife did not find Liudy a congenial sister. "Well," remarked Aunt Lindy, turn-

wliat I "in goin' to say. I'm a plain speaker, and tell my mind. Thiugs has turned out right. Sereny Heddin' leit her pap, and we stayed bv him. She's got her reward, and we've got our'n. I hope you don't take no exceptions to his will, Sereny?"

Serena replied in a low voice that hhe did not take any. "To show that I'm fair-minded and want to do right by you," said Aunt Lindy, raising her Voice to the tone she used In speaking-meeting when exhorting sinners, "I'll give you your mother's spinnin-wheel that stands in the smokehouse. You ought to have something to remember her by."

Little Jimmy Holmes' wife nudged the woman next to her, and whispered, with a curving mouth, "Just the idy! And all Sereny's mother's spoons, and her quilts and coverlids she had "wove! And the girl never having any settin'-out in the first place!"

Serena climbed the staircase, to take off her borrowed mourning, and put on her own shabby weeds for her ride back into the world. She passed presses stacked with household linen. The precious things of her childhood, seen and handled in this trying yisit, seemed so heart-breakingly precious because Hod Miller's future wife would throw them about as common. She would like to have the yellow, leather-bound copy of Alonzo and Melissa, the novel of the house always considered unwholesome by the elders, and as surely read with sly zest by the children. The coverlet with her mother's name woven into it had never been intended for anybody but the daughter of the house. It wus unendurable to go away this second time, and into perpetual exile. "Now I wisht they'd find a later will," said little Jimmy Holme's wife, tying on her bonnet in the best bedroom. The persons who had lingered to support the family through the ordeal of will-*1 reading were driving off, one after another. "Oh, but Aunt Lindy'll carry things before her Is she anywhere near? I don't want her to hear me." "Things don't turn out that way except in novel stories," said another woman, with her mouth full of pins. "They don't find wills hid around in •tockin's or Bibles. I declare, I'm real sorry for Sereny. I don't seo how old 'Mr. Jeffr's can lay easy in his grave, iia turnin' his own child out to give place to a big, hearty feller, with money in his own right." "I alwaj's thoughtso much of Serene," said little Jimmy Holme's wife. "We was taken into full church membership on the same day and we used to run together and swap dinners at the Gum College. Aunt Lindy was so hard on her. I've asked Serene to go home with mo and stay as long as she wanted to. But she has to take that horse and buggy back. And I don't think she could ^Htand it, so near the old home." "Now what do you think?" said Jesse

Jeffries' wife, coming, with her blackmitted hand:} pressed together. "Things is willed to Sereny, after all."

The bedroom resounded with ejaculations. "Howdo vou make that out?" inquired Jimmy Holme's wife. "I'd give all my vearlin1 calves to have it so." "There was another piece wrote on to the paper, that JGsse missed. 'Pears like Mozy cut her off, and then repented,and wen! right to another lawyer and had it fixed, for it's in two different handwrites. Things stand just as they did in the first." "I'm sorry Lindy gets her yearly portion," said Mrs. Holmes, in an irreverent aside- "Let me get out of this crowd I'm goin' to hug Serene." "I thought 'twas a jjreat pity," said the woman with pins in her

-..iouth

bo-

stowing them rapidly about her bonnet ribbons, "if Sereny could not have the homestead to bring up her boy in! "You said folks never found new wills!" observed a neighbor, triumphantly. "Well," retorted the woman, turning her face from side to side to get her chin set properly in the bonnet ribbons,"they didn't find any. Jesse Jeffr's only fooled around and didn't read all of the first one. They might 'a knowed Jesse Jeffr's'ud make mess of it. He don't know how to do a thing right."

This opinion was shielded from the car of Mrs. Jesse. She was busy nodding her leghorn bonnet and exchanging parting civilities with several old neighbors.

But little Jimmy Holmes's wife had flown up-stairs, and interfered with Jesse Jeffries and Sister McGafferty and a number of others. Serena lay upon a bed, and the air roeked with camphor. "She's overcome like," explained Uncle Jesse. "Let me get to her," said Mrs. Holmes. Having got to her, Mrs. Holmes raised Serena's nead on her arm, and began to laugh.

She's comin' out of it now,"observed Sister McGafferty. "All of you'd better go down stairs except Sister Holmes and me. Let her lie without disturbin' awhile. Well have plenty of other chances to enjoy Sister Heddin's company."

The neighbors and Jesse went submissively down stairs, but little Jimmy Holmes's wife kept on laughing with someeffort, as if she felt afraid of ending in a sob. "Ob, I'm so glad you'll be in the neighborhood again, Serene!" she S8id. "Things wouldn't never be right in this worldTf they'd turned out the other way. Don't look at me like you's thinkin'of the dead. But rouse up and feel better. There's your Aunt Lindy and Hod standin' at the gale I can see 'em through the winder. They're talk in' mighty serious, and she don't look so well satisfied as she did. But yon must do well by her, Sereny. Give her the old spinnfn' wheel that stands in the smokehouse!"

(»E!tTLE*r!*—Your Hop Bitter* have been of great value to me. I was laid up with typhoid fever for over two months and co'nld get no relief until I tried yonr Hop Bitters. To those suffering from debility or any one in feeble health, I cordially recommend them.

Why She never drank Wine.

"Of course we must have wine. Just think how perfectly shabby it would look!"

The remark was made by a beautiful girl as she danced out of the conservatory with a spray of pink blossoms in her hand. "It is* my first party, and I waut everything splendid. And, auntie,' turning to a sweet faced woman, with large, love-gleaming eyes and an almost alabaster purity of complexion, you must wear that rose-colored brocade. It is just the rage now, and your hair will trim beautifully. I am so glad we are to have plenty of flowers.'

Helen Bravton was just from school, where she had been since she was ten years old. Of course, she knew little of life out her father was a wealthy mau, and her dream of 'everything splendid was about to be realized. Aunt Agatha was her mother's sister, a scholarly woman of whom she knew little, save that she was a trifle eccentric, giviug away nearly all her income and never so much as touching wine.

Mrs. Brayton leaned back in her luxurious chair aud rested her eyes with a mother's delight on Helen's face. "If we have wine, Aunt Agatha cannot come,' she said slowly. 'Canunot! Why so?1 with a long shrug of her pretty shoulders. 'She will not be obliged to taste it.'

Mrs. Brayton beat her satin-slippered foot against the Persian carpet.. It was a question she could not decide. Mr. Brayton had given her carte blanche. He had no time to attend to it, he said. In calling in Agatha she had not thought of wine. With exquisite taste and wonderful tact in arrangement, her service would be invaluable. All the morning she had been trying to persuade Ihe really elegant woman to consider this an exceptional case. Not that she herself cared for it neither did Mr. Brayton. But what would peoplesay? Mrs. Brayton was not ono with the moral courage to oppose Madame Grundy. She could not endure to be called shabby, especially when the money in hand would enable her to be profuso.

All the while Helen stood at the back of Aunt Agatha chair talking of the pink and silver brocade. 'Nobody will know it was over worn. I am sure it never would show a seam.'

A servant entered bearing a silver waiter and on it a small card. Helen colored, and Mrs. Brayton excused herself and went down to tho parlor. 'Do say that you will not mind this time, Auntie,1 pleaded Helen. •And thus break my promise?' 'Did you promise, Auntie, never so much as to drink a drop 'I promised never so much as to drink a drop neither would I stand by and see another drink.' •That is going a little too far, auntie. If another drinks, it will not hurt us.' 'I am not so sure,' returned Aunt Agatha. 'Whose card was that Dick brought in?' 'Henrv Fargos,' answered Helen, with a vivid blush. 'If Henry Fargo should drink wine to excess, would it not hurt you 'O Auntie! he never could' with a face from which all color had fled. 'If I have been rightly informed, ono of his brothers died a drunkard,' persisted Agatha Fleming. 'That was Will. He was always a little wild. Went to San Francisco, spent a good deal, and drank to drown his trouble,' was Helen answer.

The Fargo's lived in the same square. In the vacations Helen had seen a good deal of Henry, and learned through him of Will's warnings. But sho did not connect it with wine the latter was a mere accident. He drank to drown his trouble.

The expression of Agatha Fleming's face grew tender: tears filled her eyes. It was a favorable moment to say to Helen all there was in her heart to say— why she should not touch wine? 'You have heard your mother speak of Herbert Weyburn Turning hor gaze full upon the young girl. 'Your old friend or flame, I don't know which?' returned Helen with all her usual vivacity. 'Yes.' •My friend, as Henry Fargo is yours. We lived in the same square, and we loved each other with a love that grew stronger as we grew older. Herbert went to college. He was grandly gifted. But he learned to take wine it made him brilliant. The head of his class, he was likewise the master of oratory. But he could not speak without his glass then it required more—one, two, three at a time. When he returned he brought thehabitwith him. His manner was no longer the same, at one time wild and capracious, at another gloomy and morose. I expostulated. He was angry and upbraided me. The next hour he was ready to l**g my pardon, and I forgave him. Of course, he would never again give way. Thus it went on until ho was ready to establish himself in business, anil I was looking forwar.1 to become a happy bride. One night there was a quarrel in which Herbert struck a brother lawyer, and himself received a fatal stab in return. They had been drinking to excess, but when I reached Herbert he was rational. Never shall I forget his face as he said. 'The doctor says I must die. If I had never tasted wine, Agatha, this would not have been.'

They had not told me that the wound was fatal. I buried my face in the pillow and sobbed outright. In that moment 1 would gladly have given my own life could I by that means save Herbert. My agony made him worse. They took me from him, and only permitted me to return when I promised to command myself. When I entered the room Her­

bert

was lying with his eyes shut. as I approached I saw that Ills lips moved. Was he praying? I tried to think so, for I bad been brought up to think it

was

J. c. STOETZBTL,

683 Fcxtox St.Chicago, HI.

a dreadful thing to die without an interest in Christ. As I kneeled by bis bedside he put out his hand. 'I have asked God to make it easy for you, Agatha. You warned ine against drink but I did not see the danger. Now I must die. But you will tnink of me sometimes, ^id, thinking of me, you will not fail to warn others against wine.' I bad promised to be calm, and to becalm I tried to point bim to Christ. I cannot tell just how it was, but in death there was a smile on his face, as though at last he had caught the gleam of celcstal wings. The thief on the cross received assurance, 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' 1 trust it was so with Herbert.'

Silence brooded over the room. Helen did not lift her head. Agatha was the flrat to speak. •Now you know the reason why I do not drink wine, the reason why I do not go where wine Is made a temptation to some poor soul who has not the strength to resist it. You will not now ask me to g* to yonr party.'

Slowly the brown head was lifted, while through her tears Helen answered: "I shall not have any wine at my party, Agatha. It's too dreadful I cannet think of it. Will Fargo drank wine,

Henrv takes a

and drank t« excess social glass. No,' with more emphasis, •I shall not have it. It shall never be naid

that I helped to make a young man a drunkard." When Mrs. Braytoa returned, Helen hastened to explain. "We will not havs wine, mother. I could never hold up my head again if I knew that one person was led to drink, to excess though, my offering him a social, glass." "What I have to say will be unnecessary in this case," smiled Mrs. Brayton.. "I have just seen Henry Fargo. Hehopes we will not lia\« wine. Since Will perished miserably as he did, he cannot go where wine is- used freely. A9thisis the liist party of the season, he trusts that we will set the example that many, very many, will gladly follow." "I could never have done it but for Aunt Agatha," Helen answered, with herold bright look. "Henry Fargo shall never have it to say that 1 tempted him with wine."

THE BEST IfVI V.

The best way to increase the appetite,.-, assist digestion,cause the food to assimilate properly, and the absorbents to takeup nourishment, induce full and regular evacuation, produce easy expectoration,, and stop decav of the lungs, heart, liver, urinary and digestive organs and purify the blood, is by using that (Jueen of health called Ir. Guysott's cllow Dock aud Sarsaparilla. Leading physicians recommend it as a true strengthen er, a sure reviver and perfect health renewer. It is composed of harmless yet effective vegetable tonics ami won't harm the most delicate, being es|eeially adapted to eufeebled constitutions and infants.

KISSES.

A father, talking to his careless daughter, said "I want to speak to you of your mother. It may bo that you have' noticed a careworn look upon hor face, lately. Of course it has not been brought there by any act of yours, still it is your duty to chase it away. I want you t®get up to-morrow morning and get breakfast, and when your mother comes, and begins to express her surprise, goright up to her and kiss her on the mouth. You can't imagine how it will brighten her dear face, liesides, you owe her a kiss or two. Away back when you were a little girl, sho kissed you when no one else was tempted by yonr fever-tainted breath and swollen face. You were not as attractive then as you are now. And through these years of childish sunshine and shadow she was always ready to cure, by the magic of a mother's kiss, the little, dirty, chubby hands whenever they were injured in. those first skirmishes with this rough, old world. And then the midnight kiss with which she routed so many bad dreams as she leaned above your restlesspillow, have all been on interest these long, long years. Of course she is not so pretty and kissable as you are, but if you had done your share of the work during the la.«t ton years the contiast would not be so marked. Her face has far more wrinkles than yours, and yet if you were sick, that face would appear more beautiful than an angel's as ft hovered over you, watching every opportunity to minister to yonr comfort, and every one of those wrinkles would seem to bo bright wavelets of sunshine chasing each other over the dear face. Sho will leave you one of these days. These burdens, if not lifted from her shoulders., will break her down. Those rough, hard hands that have done so many unnecessary things for you, will be crossed upon her lifeless breast. Those neglected lips^. that gave you your first baby kiss, will be closed, and tnose sad, tired eyes will have opened in eternity, and then you-, will appreciate your mother, but it will be too late."

A physician writes "For all diseases affecting tho blood, liver and kidneys, brain and nervous system, there is ho combination prepared for general use more beneficial than Dr. Guysott's Yellow Dock and Sarsaparilla. I recommend it frequently in my practice."

Why then remain a crabhy dyspeptic and nervous sufferer? Why not bo' strong, healthy and robust?

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Hnlnrin.

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Piles.

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Colir.

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