Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 9, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 26 August 1882 — Page 6
6
THE MAILlSsK
A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.
THE SWEET COUNTRY COUSINS.
How dear to the heart are the sweet country cousins. When dog days of summer begin to draw near, When bricks have grown hot and when sunstrokes by the dozen
Fill body with anguish and bosom with fear! "The green waving fie! da and the sweet smel lug brez*.
The 'imping from turnmoll to quiet and ealro, The rich, creamy milk which the ready hand.
An e'en* the brown cousin* who live oh the farm The plain county cooslm, the uncultured
COU'ttlS,
The sweet country couslnx who live on the farm.
The mreot country cousins! oh, aren't they a treasure How handy to have at the vacation time And paying ones board Is a too costly j}«eaa ure,
When all can be had without mending a dime. How pleasant to live on rich cream and ripe a
Fresh golden-hued butter and cakes light and warm, free use of the horses, the carta, and the wherries
Of sweet country cousins who live on the farm! "The plain countiy cousins, the uncultured cousin*,
The sweet country cousin* who live on the furml flow dear are the Kweet countrj* cousin* in summer!
How fragrant the meadow, romantic the down: But straightway your faces begin to'grow glummer
At ilioggiitx of their visit next Winter to town. Tho theatre, the concert, the lecture, the money Kxpendtm in ticket*! the thought gives a ijimlin Thft«ejut'l of Hummer Is not rjulto so funny-
Why don't the sweet cousins remain on their farm? Xli! hrown-vwuged cousins, the great awk tuueu want cousins,
The clodhoppor their farm.
cousins should stay
—[Boston Trauscript.
Harper f»r September.
Love Will Find Out The Way.
ELIZABETH D. B. STODDARD.
In August, last year, fifty people were assembled within Mrs. Bassett's walls, at Sahara, a village in the White Moun tains her. house was, in fact, a hotel, without a sign, a bar, barber, bootblack, or bells. I was among tho fifty, with my niece Lucy. We were all in search of something we lacked at home Changing, tho air and situation, wn might meet it. Thofjequel of the month proved that most of otir pilgrims roturnod ns they c«nie. Dr. Chandoti's rheumatism was about tho same Miss Ann, ids elder daughter, repackod her drunk with tho old sense of responsibility and wdarlntfaa. It was Kllen only ttvho^e destiny had boon changed. Fat Mr*. Hangs hadollmbod the mountains iu vain evtiry ounce of llesh that she had brought from home she was compelled carry back, and her |arty of three young women added but tan and freckles to their store. Ntill.it was something to be hnugryall the time, and wear Qito'n company manners froni morn to dovvy evo. For people to smile and saluUMach other iu the early morning is oxcolicut discipline. Tho pall of silence generally wraps the mind when it first o**pes from sleep ouly children sing when they wake up. 1K man and wife overbold sweet converse when dressing for ureakfaat?
Wnen I arrived with my niece, Lucy, tho company wore tolerably fused that Is, the choice and genteel part of it—we, you know. Nobody couUi remain a day Ht Mrs. Harnett's with her antecedent* unknown, liirth, projwrty, «nd position wore defined by that remarkable little bird that does the whlsqmring gossip for clood Society, always hovering over it hikI Uwide It. an the xlk-sak and the Mword-lUh accompany the crocodile and the whale.
There were soven or eight of na friendly old wemen—wives, widows, and old maids—some quiet husbands, a flock of Hil ls, noisy, »auoyt and chattering as -Nparrovv.*, *l»ul with very gay plumage, liitcy ami 1 got in late of a Saturday owning, ami wo had but dusky view ot the sot wo were about to join. Hut tho next day what a charming spectacle wo unw iu the garden, tho cio|ttot ground, on the veranda, ami alioul the itu«c! As many as tiftoen handsome l^irt ", dreiwnl in white, covered with embroidery. flounces, and tlutiugs, story iifnin sinry wide Hashes of every color, eiiormoM!* chignons, the jewelry oi the |hm iod. and fantastic hats, most tempting to organ grinders owning monkeys. I mw my heroine then in a rocking-chair on :lie"veranda—Kden Chandon, the younger daughter of !r. Chandon, a hand wme, refined girl, wide-browed, with sensitive blue eyes, a fair complexion, lleced with a bright color which spread and paled constaiiMy, a slender figure, with fairy hands and feet. Her *txpro*«ion was loveliness Itself smiles rippled in her sweet eyes and about her *w«««'ter rosy Hps. It was as much as I could do to pr»«vent my hands from rest.ing on her tlonde hair ami giving her thank* for being so beautiful. She rose from her chair at my approach, and offertxl it to mo* We entered into conversation at omv, 1 saw th*t the winds of lioaven had never been allowed to visit her check roughly—that alio was as inuocfiil as a y-'uiig rttUin retarding the «rays of our wicked world, but that she h*d a strong will and de«*td«*1 opinions.
Wtiiie wo wen? talking, a young man, turning the corner of .he house, passed us. *"«.uxl morning. Mr. Bas^etl," said .Klleo. wiUioiii looking at him.
Ji, r«'t«imisj lu-r violation with an not! and af ni »u»iie, displaying »wt»iarkai»!y tin«- twth and a toieiably wid-« moutii. ••One of tho lKMirder?" I asked. ••*h. n« Mrs. l!a»»eu'* brother. I barxiiy know wltat we should do without bun. Ik) you think you shall like Sahara, ma'airi?"
A pink cloud rose In her cheek, that matched tho sunset flush abov« a mountain tango, She twbtwl the Vrac*lot on her wrbt. and then tamed fe*»r he«tl towan! the road, down which Mr.
BmscU
was now rapidly walking, and vigorously lashing th?" wayside weeds with a «tugh stick. "i am sure 1 shall like Sahara very mneh." I *i!»*fml. "Mrs. lUs^tt told it* yon were coming, and we may fwl acquainted alntdy. Tleatwonx of ceremony Is very pleasant here. At home we tuust precit, t»f Cisurso but I hate it. I often contra'JM f-*tl»or and sister Ann about conventionality, though I wee that It must be."
She «4j({bed. gave a «pi«»r little laugh, and burricdiv walked away. 1 was a»-
my lines had fallen into a a, and took out my Bible with the serenest satisfac
tion. My niece Lucy was a good girl, irreproachable in style and behavior— just the one to be called upon for the fourth hand in whist, or the last member in any play she gave me, therefore, little or no trouble. Single gentlemen were at a discount with ns. Mr. Yale, a student with a meerschaum, Mr. Brown, a city clerk, Mr. Bangs, son of Mrs. Bangs, and Colonel Jones, with a eork foot, were at our disposal. George Sand has said that the impunity of life in a French chateau is incredible. In the op|Krtunities of love, she meant. Lifeat Sahara might have been put to the same proof Had there have been lovers, but not one of our young gentlemen had a thought of establishing a flirtation even. They came to the mountains to have a good, selfish time, catch trout, ride over the country daytimes, and go from hop to hop in the evenings at the various hotels among the mountains. No serious hope nor regret did they intend to return hom% with so poor John Bassett was alone in his lover's glory. Mrs. Bassett was a widow—an energetic, livelady, determined to make her nouse pleasant, and to make money also. She was a Yankee, and possessed the distinguishing traits of an apparent frankness, a confiding simplicity, which ap pealed to one's sympathy and generos ity. We all felt that she must be sus tained and encouraged. When her help fled to their mountain homes, tired of chamber-work and waiting upon folks, how we tried to please her by helping ourselves, and bow kindly she took our money, in spite of any small short-com-ingson her part! John Bassett was her brother, and younger by ten years. My acquaintance with him began over a box I was in the hall waiting to have it taken into my room. "Where can my brother be?" ex claimed Mrs. Bassett. "I have been looking for him along time. Anyhow it shall go up stairs in no time, Miss Green.
I stepped into the parlor, where some ladies were with work, and in a full tide of chat.J "How Mrs. Bassett depends upon her brothor!" said one. "Jiow good he is to her! He is my ideal of a Christian, and comes as near to the primitive apostles as any man can in these civilized days, t\
hen our first-class saints preach in full dress." •'HeIs not ashamed to engage in any menial occupation. He sawed wood one day for somebody that had trouble in getting it done. He said he couldn't see
'K1
A little of the New England element cropping out," remarked a lady from Massachusetts. The second speaker, Mrs. Castle, frowned upon her, and con tinued: "Ho has determined to be a minister, and It is a hard struggle with him to obtain an education. The New England element crops out in his father, who would not sell an acre of his farm to fur ther his boy's intellectual advancement To bo sure, he is allowed to remain at home his father's doors are not closed upon him, although he had passed tho legal age for pareuiial support. He who wrestles with our unrelenting soil and defying climate for sixty or seventy years, and whose finest, most subtile transactions are connected with the raising and selling of cattle, can not have sympathy with a sllont, obscure endeavor which'holds In view only spiritual welfare. No one knows iu now maoy ways that young man takes up his cross. 1 presume he is called moan-splrlted and a Betty. Whenever Mrs. Bassett is out of help or out of sorts, she sends for him. Heleavos his books or work, walks over from his father's farm, a few miles from here, and goes on with any immediate occupation as if he had never done anything else, nor expected to. There he is now."
Mrs. Castle turned to me. There was a flush in her face her eyes sparkled. She was a fine lady, with an enormous higuon.and wore a pinked striped dress trimmed with Cluny lace, and pink morning slippers but she was very much in earnest about the farmer's son, and I liked her for it. Afterward, when there was danger of broken caste through him, she spoke differently. I looked into the hall Mr. Bassett was going upstairs in his shirt sleeves, my box was on his back. I follower! him.
Thank von, Mr. Bassett," I said, as ho put the box down. "I am sorry it is so heavy."
It does match in weight with some of young ladie.s' trunks—the Saratoga afl'rirs, for instance. I have had the pleasure ot taking several up and down staiA this summer. Can 1 do anything more for you
I wished to talk with him, and did not know how* to begin. Apostle or not, genuine Now England character stood before mo unabashed as Do Foe in the pillory. Easy, smiling, self-contaii ed, but not self-conscious nothing presuming nor familiar OH the contrary, I felt that he had an extraordinarily reticent nature, ami that it would lie no light matter to break into its depths. He was no beauty certainly, but manly-looking cheerfulness, amiability, and a constitution at peace with itself were evident in his expression. Shirt sleeves became him very well, also his blue silk cravat very carefully tied. He wore side whiskers, clerical fashion, and there was a sort of pulpit style about his chestnutcolored hair. "How nicely a poor man can look was my thought, which I might have spoken if Lucy had not rushed into my room at this moment with her hands full of ferns and mosses. V'Oh, aunt, look I must take these home,anil how can I?" '•Mr. Hassett, Lucy. He may suggest a plan."
She had neither seen nor heard of him,
and though surprised to find a stranger there, she saluted him as if he wasn't one. lie shot a queer glance at said "Good morning, which stood afterward, lie had neve
lance at me as he I undernever been in
troduced to any visitor in the bouse before, not being* entitled to in trod notions any more than the servants, of the other drivers of Mrs. Bassett teams. He said he should be very glad to oblige my niece, and would get korne wood mould to set the ferns in. "What priggish veuth is that?" asked Lucy "Somebody attached to the premise* t'f
Yes, and a hero at that." •'Why, aunt, have you found him so toon I was for giving you a week to develop one in. This one looks very safe and mild. Is he selling wares, photographs, Vwsketa, history of all religions, reripes?"
I told her what I had heard of him^nd she langl but then Lucy alwavs laughed at me and my enthusiasms. She too changed ber tune, and, I am 1 py to say, came out In so womanly a oner that I could not help giving her anewdrwsa.
Dr. Chandon was an indulgent father. His two daughters, Ann and Kllen,went tbeir own way pretty tn bat then their way had never dif!_:d from his, and apparently tbe girt* were agreed in a non-interference with each oil. r. Miss Aon was proud, and never drea- that
.... m*fet«***
Chandon took it fofc granted that the on would was petted ootn, suii consioerea something of a child, to be-humored or managed, as the case might be. Before either noticed it, an indefinable acquaintance commenced between John and Ellen. Ann first detected any, doubtful inquiring glances, which astounded her and then the doctor declared that the young man was oulrageously officious, if he was studying for the ministry. But rbajonatism was hot in the doctor's foot when be said so, and the remark went tot nothing. Ellen was silent, even with herself. Her pride, too, was on the alertr ftnd could make no humiliating admisnioii. Why, on the very last Sunday, the Qne before Lucy and I came, John Bassett had waited at dinner! The coolness with which he handed Mrs. Bangs a glass of spring water, sweetly remarking that it was better than Croton, made her cheeks burn with anger. He appeared to be devoid of a sense of propriety. A man with his sense and taste waiting at a boarding-house table Till the last plate of dessert he staid, but took good care to let some other waiter attena ,to the wants of the Chandon party. It was as much of a puzzle to him why he avoided duty there as Ellen's feeling wer^to herself. He called himself a BmaU, pitiful creature for shirking ignoble work, but he could not carry plates for the Chan dons. As they passed out of the dining room, somehow he forgot hfis place. stood against the wall with his teetii set, his hands thrust into depths of hiapockets. A curieus watery feeling rtiahed into his eyes he saw only a niist. Then he sat down to his own dinner/ »Mrs. Bassett had her eye on him, while he swallowed his food with a quickness. "John, it is too bad. You shall not wait at my
table again. It is no# the
•thing. But what could I do Jane Betts went last night, and Sarah Holmes is sick." "It is all right, sister—all
Fie
('riglit.
don't like it, though neither do Jane and Sarah, I surmise." "Xot with the purse-prouds mupd. But it is the last time." S
And it was. Mrs. Bassett, liowevpr, could not spare his general attendance consequently he ana Ellen were coh^uijjj ually thrown together. In all the ways devised for passing the time they met, John drove our parties to the various points of interest in the mountains. Jf we stopped to lunch or dine, of course he lunched and dined with us. Tlie young ladies preferred bis open wagon in which a dozen could be comfortably packed, whilo we elders went in covered carriages. It happened that John and Ellon sat side by side during these drives. No comment was made on this circumstance. It never occurred to one of the girls at this time that any relation could arise between them. Going down a steep mountain road one evening when it had come on to rain, and the girls were all tucked under their water-proofs, one of the horses slid on a rolling stone and came down on bis haunches. The heavy wagon lurched forward enough to jerk John from his seat for he had instinctively put out his loft arm before Ellen, and tugged at the reins with his right hand.
was back on his seat instantly,
but his cheek was cut by the dasher,and bled. What's the matter screamed the girls. Are we upsetting "All right," he replied.
Ellen caught him with both hands, and gave a little scream.
hearyc„. "I know yon are hurt you are wiping your cheek this minute. Ob!"
She put her hand up to his face. Human nature can not stand every thing, and John was human. He wrenched otf his buckskin glove and imprisoned her hand tightly presently his arm crept round her waist ier head drooped agaiast his breast. If foolish they were the darkness hid their foolishness—their happiness. Would that they might jog aloug that mountain path forever, Innocence, Joy, and Faith their angelic guides! When the moon pushed her silver arm above the dark mountain peaks, and the woods grew heavv with pungent dew, John whispered, not words of love, but words of adoration for nature. Had she been older and experienced, she might have felt an emotion of anger at his passiveacknowlcdgment of the situation as it was. she felt strangely submissive. Indeed, his gentle spirit could teach and lead hers in such moments. "Our hereafter," ho said, "how much more beautiful it may lie! So fixed then not tho vision of a night, the splendor of a day. for us poor mortal not one tempest of emotion for us to be tossed in like a helpless atom, and thrown away upon some solitary shore crushed but a steadfast current flowing on forever, all its changes, light and shade, oolor and motion, within itself
Poor John no nearer than heaven did he dare approach Ellen—by words and what will lovers not avail themselves of? ...
As submissive as sheappeared through this little crises, John did not succeed in meeting her eyes for two days afterward. Sister Ann asked her that night, after they had gone tip to their room, what she was looking at her band so rigidly for. Was she moon-struck "Perhaps so."
And her sash, liow could she crush that so? Ellen looked at it, and was compelled to own that it was much tumbled. "The wagon jogglesso, Ann. "Ithink Mr. Bassett joggles too. I heard him muttering. Whvdont be take up preaching at once 1 "am tired of his everlasting attendance, shawl-car-rying, basket-holding, driving, touring explanations. He seems to have very little enterprise. One would not give him a thought if he were not so continually in one's eyeaight^nd so irreproachable too."
Ellen's blue eyes blazed, the rose in her cheek deepened to the red Jof a royal velvet, ther blonde bair seemed to sparkle, her white throat swelled like a dove's, and Ann quailed she saw that Ellen was in a rare rage, as blue-eyed, amiable persons are sometimes. "Well, well, sissy, come to bed. I don't can? for the sa«h, if you don't and I don't care for Mr. Bassett: do you "bo*
I Where i* your pride when such suggestions creep into your mind? For shame, Ann Mr. Basset is a good man. I trust him. Isn't everybody friendly with him
The poor child punished her secret heart cruelly the effort was too much. Sbe laughed and cried, pulled ber beautiful bair, and refused to go to bed. Ann was obliged to give ber red lavender, and coax ber to quietness, wishing all the time that Sahara bad never been heard of.
Neither by word ncr act did John and Ellen learn that they loved each other, but at last they knew the fcct. Tberewas no sense, nor reason, nor hope, in the fact, but so it was. There is such a capacity for pain in love—arefinement which adds to it an anguish of sweetness. John was tortured with tbe knowledge that Ellen loved him. He prayed that
ber pride might be assailed, and Dr. would laugh at ber love as the illusion
Ui'1
TERRE HAtJTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL
JiM?r.?irr
of an idle day and although he nearly shed tears of self-pity at tbe idea of being forgotten by her, he was sincere in his prayer. And Kllen, woman-like, shivered at the prc^ect beyond these short days at SaharS, and 'feould not contemplate it. How important, how doubtful, how fascinating, grew these short days Each one rounded so much. When I say much, I mean in the vocabulary of lovers meeting each other on tbe dusty road between the house and the croquet ground, finding one or the other on a bench under tbe old appletrees gracing tbe same, tbe bringing of a letter from the post-office, and the exchange of a few words on tbe momentous subject of a clear or cloudy day for mountain views. John was both hero and martyr, never permitting himself tbe Indulgence of voluntarily seeking Ellen, and she too only did not kee£ herself out of his way.
Well, the cloud unawares gathered over us, and at last was seen by every body. We went up Strawberry Hill oue late afternoon, after being in the house all (day because it threatened rain a band of yellow cloud appeared in the west, and some of us thought it safe to venture out. Strawberry Hill was near the house. A clean path led to its summit, which was covered with birches and firs rocks answering for seats were scattered about lovely lerns grew in dark crevices there patches of graw moss like minute leafless tree boughs pale beds of rose-shaped everlasting— the ghost among the wild flowers—and all the weeds which color and adorn a graceless soil. Only six or seven of us started, Ellen Chandon and my«elf among the number. We soon climbed to the top, and found places to suit us. Ellen chffflft to remain with me, while the rest wandered elsewhere to gather moss and birch bark "What have you been doing to-day, Miss Ellen asked. "I have not seen you till now." "I have kept my room, amusing myself with embroidering on papa's slippers against Christmas. Oh dear! autumn is at hand. Are you sory, Miss Green The fall of the year, the fall of the year," she repeated, absently. 'The woods decay, tho woods decay and fall.'" '••But not yet, my dear. You speak as if you were sad about it. •Thou wilt reuew thy beauty mora by
Willie I am 'A white-haired shadow roaming like a dWtim' •Wt I am not sorry. I am past the point or the over-growing crop of sorrows wnich spring up before the young "I .read 'Tithonus,' Miss Green. Could h^bein earnest about forgetting Aurora, when he had loved her so "It is only a poem you know."
IWhy shouldn things be as really beautiful outside of poems and novels as in them ••What things?" #Living, life, love, events, circumstance, fortune, fate, destiny—anything vou chose to give a name to the whole world." •'Mercy! you takeaway my breath! The things written of must have begun as truth is somebody's life, of course. Nothing can be created without the back-ground of actual experience." ••Good."
The creature crept close to me, and laid her prettv head against my shoulder. She was pale*and sad, but very sweet—a pure, delicate Ijud longing to burst into lldwer, to be opei* to dew and sunshine.
••Hush r, jar you. IV is nothing. JvTV blossoms Dre-
wiingle with all splendid blossoms pre paring for fruition. I think you are very kind, Miss Green. Does not Lucy love you so very, very much?"
She will, when she falls in love with some young man. Then she will aggravate me, if possible. I shall have the selvedge and crumbs, and a pbotagraph of her feeiitigs." "Why, how funny 3*011 are I do not love Ann any better, *nor papa. On the contrary—'
Happily we were interrupted by the return otaone of the party, who went away again, finding us glum and silent. 1 was thinning how to escape from ber confidence, and possibly she was thinking how**to give it to me. Again we were interupted—this time by the growl of distant thunder.
I really believe it will rain, after all," I said, starting up. "We must hurry back. How dark it grows!"
We heard laughter and cries from our partv, who hurried to the spot where we were. It grew very dark instantly a violent gust was predicted, which came upon us once. Presently we heard a shout down the hill.
Mr. Bassett is coming!" all cried, with a sense of relief. "Wo woutrtlove till he gets here." "Hut it Ml rain. I feel the splash of big drops already," I said. "We must run."
In an install 1 he appeared loaded with cloaks and several umbrellas. Tho force of tbe gust made him stagger under their weight, and he was nearly out of bieath as he threw over my shoulders a shawl.
We must go into the hollow for a few minutes," fie said, handing the wraps. "Here is vours," I heard him say to Ellen "I do not know the rest." He led us down tho hill a little way, and turned aside into a hollow, where there was a thick clump of birch-trees and a group of grani.e bowlders. "It is of no use to attempt the path just now, tbe wind blows so," he remarked besides, wesball have the thunder upon us soon."
Tne tempest rose all round as. I never saw such terrific lightning, blue and ghastly. Tbe crest of the mountal range behind Strawberry Hill stood out in tbe glare, black and threatening, like formless approaching monsters the wind hnrtled round ns, and outside among unsheltered trees we heard the crashing of bougbs. Now and then tbe rain trickled upon us, but we were tolerably well protected. We huddled near each other, and were still. Some of us were frightened, some awed, some absorbed with tbe idea of getting wet and taking cold. One prolonged flash of lightning, which ringed and illuminated the entire horizon, revealed to us a strange picture. John and Ellen stood against a tree. He beld ber shawl, over her bead: their faces, pale and serene, were turned toward each other in hers was a rapt expression not to be mistaken ber eyes, brilliant and burning, devoured his, asking him for his heart, his life, and b« gave them to ber with a wonderful peace. He bent over ber and kissed her lips ber hands were clasped about bis arm. Then pitchdark ess fell again but we all saw tbe kiss, and felt ft, or was it tbe electric chain of the lightning which boupd us in a spell? Wben I reached Mrs. Hassett's I was glad to go to bed and have a hot cup of tea. ••Such a time, Lacy
rT
"Aunt, if yon will go up hills at sunset, of course such a time most come off, especially when a thunder-storm is coming on. Whom do you see, tbe Old Man of tbe Mountain?" "A vonngman of the mountain. "I see, or ratber saw. I swelled 4 rat wben I beheld Mr. Bassett banting
•3V*H
wraps. Ingenuous youth! How attentive he is to you nowadays "Lucy, your language is not pleasant. Good-night."
Dr. Chandon was driving the widow Bangs Mount Washington way when the storm happened. Ihey took refuge in a hotel, and did not get home till everybody had retired, consequently our adventure did not reach them, and the doctor's growl was postponed. Ellen could not come to breakfast the next morning she had a cold, sister Ann said, ana must keep her bed a few hours. She eyed usseverly as she took her seat, and ate her breakfast with silent dignity. There were plenty of of significant smiles and covert speeches about her had she chosen to perceive them. Mrs. Castle was very busy all the morning. She could not believe her senses, she said she never was so disappointed in her life in a man. He had been led away, that was the long and short of it, and Ellen Chandon was a sly, selfish little puss she hoped her father would see into things, and take his daughters home before anything further happened. Mr. Bassett was a poor young man, whose whole future depended upon his present behavior. There was considerable uprooting of the Chandon antecedent also. The Chandons were the first people in Salem, that old town of witches, camel's hair shawls, and crooked Chinese crockery. Sir John Chandon had sent his younger brother to Salem in earlv times from England, aud the younger brother had founded a fortune, the remains of which exist to this day. Mrs. Chandon the mother of Ann and Ellen, had left the small fortune in her own right to them they could not be cut ott' with a shilling if they should go against their father's wishes.
Mrs Bangs though immensely astontonlshed at what she called eclarirsismmg declared that she had expected|some thing of the kind all along. Ministers invariably tried to appropnate the prettiest girls the attempt Deingunfortunate their affections were properly alienated from the world,'and tne gloom of their Calvinistic views deepeued. Iu short mere}*, but much curiosity, was shown in regard to the unhappy pair. The day wore on. Ellen did not appear below stairs Ann remained with her. Dr. Chandon meditatively smoked cigar after cigar, his fingers 011 the leaves of an unread book ne was evidently perplexed. Mrs. Basset flitted about the premises with moro activity than usual, wearing a frown between her eyebrows. Troubled with the troublesomeness of this weary world, I walked out "alone, "my thoughts to render," and took my way to the old orchard below the house —a'delapidated place, lonely and silent when the croqutt players were absent. Oil a bench John Bassett was seated, his head drooping, his hat pulled over bis forehead. He brightened when ho saw me coming, and reaching out bis hand, speaking abruptly: "You were kind enough to have a friendly feeling for lire, Miss Green, when you first came. Can you continue it I am in great trouble indeed, I atu tried too much. Why have I come to that pass when my ideas of duty are confused and obscure? I never thought one could come to such dark andignorant terms with one's self as I exist 011. Must I be punished for simplicity Mv theories have been constructed according to my light now thej' are knocked from under my feet, and I stand upon nothing. A single, abstract, involuntary feeling has taken entiqs possession of me, so far as my desire and hope are concerned, they are centered in Elleu. Yes, I really want to throw up every plan and purpose for the sake of belonging to hei, for lean make her happy. She may resist me, as she is very proud and willful, but I know that if I should go this minute to tbe door of her chamber, sbe would ily to open It at the sound of my voice, though a dozen sister Anns were beside her. Neither to her door 1101* to her shall I go with any avowal."
His gentle eyes were moist with tears, which he was not ashamed to wipe away boldly. "I can not help you," I said. "I know how you feel, and will listen to you. Only your own and Ellen's words can be of comforting avail." "Thankyou I must speak to some one. My sister is angry with 1110. Her foolish pride is in arms. She calls me a stupid, childish, green boy, and says MhsChandon amuses herself with nie, sending me this way and that to try her jK)wer. What shall 1 do?—run away or stay? speak or be silent? Last night, impious as it was, I was willing to die out in the storm. Fibre by fibre has tho beautiful girl drawn me to her, and she finished the work last night. I kissed her, she clung to me so. I heard her heart beat with love for me." "Foolish children Let me tell you that these emotions are short-lived very unimportant in the long drama of actual life, if you could be made to think so." "I shall act that way I shall not depend 011 these emotions enough to induce me to ask her to join her fortunes with mine. Did you ever go bv, in the course of your rides, the little lopsided church where I have hoped to preach my Master's precepts while following His example. Did you look over the sterile country and the pool abodes of our hard-fisted, thick-sk'nned population Could Ellen, even with love enduring, pass a happy life among su^h Where is sbe? Could you see her My poor girl, why mnst ber heart le broken? Can't you comfort her? Silence may crush her, as it does me. Go to her—do.
He grasped my hand, and looker! at me with appealing eyes. I thought him 111 too, burning with fever. A terrible inroad was this into bis pearefnl life—the life be bad so simply and unselfishly arranged. What was the meaning of that fate which had thrown him into tbesea of pas»ion, to struggle with its roaring, turbulent wax es, or to be cast a wreck on itsshores, dim with mists and as solitary as an unpeopled world "It is a dreadfnl mess. But we do outlive messes even. Patience, patience. Now, having been of no *ervice, I will leave you."
He rose, shook bands with me, and si..iled with a sadness which brought tears to my eves. It seemed to me as if be were taking a farewell of all that gave life, beauty and pleasure, and that tbe operation was very painful. I could have scolded him too. Where was a lover's energy and enterprise? How tamely he submitted to tbe situation
He
turned
away, and I left him. Like
sister Ann, for a moment I wished that Sahara bad never been beard of. Marriage was almost impossible between tbem, I owned, and I did not believe that marriage would bring tbem permanent happiness, tbey were so unlike in circumstance, education and position to remove either into the fther sphere would destroy tbe individuality 01 both, and however easy self-sacrifice might appeat for love's sake, the result would not bring union. Dr. Chandon was still smoking on tbe veranda. I stopped and'looked "at bim more intently than I was aware.
Concluded on &rventA Pdgc*
A Gentle Voice. •prising
t'ae agency tor the sale of Dr. Big elow's Positive Cure, which has no superior for coughs, colds, consumption, wboopiug cough, and all throat and lung diseases. To prove to you it has no equal, call at Moflatt A Gulick's drug store aud get a bottle frte.
A World wants proof. "The proof of the pudding is the eating thereof," and not in chewing the string which tied the bag. Therefore take Dr. Jones' Red Clover Tonic. It cures all blood disorders,, tornid liver, sick headache, costiveness and all diseases of the urinary organs. The best appetizer and tonic known. Sold by Moffatt it Guliek. Fifty cents per I Kittle. U) Blood Poisoning an ularming
Discovery.
Half the people are suffering and many die from this fatal complaint. Diseases of the kidnej'S and liver are the principal causes. As a cure we can only recommend the German Hop Bitters.— Journal otHealth.
91000 per year can be easily made at h*»me working for E. G. Hideout A Co., 10 Barclay Str^t, New York. Send for their catalogue and full particulars.
HHHE SATURDAY EVENING
MAIL,
TERKE HAUTE, 1ND.
A Paper for the People.
A MODEL HOME JOURNAL.
ENTERTAINING, INSTRUCTIVE AND NEWSY.
BRIGHT, CLEAN AND PURE.
THE THIRTEENTH YEAR.
The Mail has a record of success seldom attained by a Western weekly paper. Ten years of increasing popularity proves its worth. Eucouraged by the extraordinary success which has attended Its publication the publisher has perfected arrangements by which for the coming year Tito Mall will be more than ever welcome In tlie home circle. In this day of trashy and impure literature It should be a pleasure to «H good people to help In extending the circulation of Midi a paper as the
SATURDAY EVENING MAIL
TERMS:
One year 8* 0® Six
1
Three mouths Mail and office subscriptions will, Invariably, bo discontinued at expiration of time.
Address P. 8. WKSTFAI.L, Publisher Saturday Evening Mall, TERRE HAUTE, IND.
CONQUEROR
OF ALL KIDNEY DISEASES:
n^lX-I£S
TsiTMrn
KIDNEY and LIVER MEDICINE
NEVKBT KNOWN TO FAIL. THE* WHEN* ALL.OTHKII MKDK INEH KAIL, as It nets tiicrf/.i/ mi the A'Uln-i/x, /,1'i'crand towel*, restoring thfinot once healthy action. lll'NT'rt HKMEI\ if-n wife, sure aiid s|»eedy cure •'•ml hundreds have Icstilled to having been cured by it, when physicians und friends have given them ujto die. IV)not delay, but try at once HI NTH REMEDY.
ri
W'XT'X llb'.MEl)Y currn nil J)t*eoarK of the h'I'Inri/s, Criitar}/ Oman*, J''!*!/, ('i fn rl, JHnhete*, and Jiieonllneiire and Ketenlioii of
Hl'XVS HKMKIfY rurr* Vninn tn he Bark, or ImIh*, (i'-neral Debility, Female /i*ernet, DMurbed filrep, Lots of ApprtUe, Hriyht,x Disease*, and oil Complaint), of the f'rirw-t/rnjfrtl O/w/n*. lif.WH ItEMEDY (juickly Induces tho Lvrr to healthy action, rfinorv* the cutinea that produces Itiliov* Headache, Dytprprta, Hour Ntomueh, Coshretiem. 1' It*. 'fr.
By the use of JU STS UKMhh), the Stomach and .Bowel* will *iM'''lily legaln their strength,and the Blood will lie perfectly purified.
If fS T'M REM ED in pronounced bv the )x-«t doctors to be the only cure for all kindx of kldmy disease*.
Ut'STH 11EM ED) Is purely r'(/-lablc, and is mire cure for Heart lilcMMHiid Rheumatism when all other medicine fails. nvyrn ItEMEUY prepared e*pirf»*lv f,rr the above di»eaJtf»fliul ha* nerer been knovm
1/1
One trial ronrinee. For tnle by ol! (lrnrjairt*. Keli'l for prunpleUt to
HUM'S REMEDY CO., Providence, H. I.
Pricea, "5 cento and 11.25.
MILLERS HOTEL,
No* 37,A 4l, West Twenty-Si xtli Street,
HEW YORK CITY,
Between Broadway and sixth Avenue, near Madison Park.
A quiet, healthy location, convenient by Ktngp*, horse cars, and the elevated roads to all part* of the city.
In thecenter of retail trade.placi sof amusement*, and the principal hotel* and churche*
PERMANENT OR TRANSIENT GUESTS Ratwb—«L50 to MjOO per day to 125.00 per week, according to size aud location ot rooms. Special rote* for tamliea or by th® year.
Tarki»b,Kleetri*«*"! Roman Bath*
Connected wi|h the hotel at reduced rates to trie*!*.
Dr.
E. P, MILLEB, Proprietor.
C. H. 1J AYNES, Manager.