Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 26, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 December 1882 — Page 4
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THE MAIL:
A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.
fKRRE HAUTE, DEC. 23, 1882
Under The Snow.
A Story ia Bbym.
BY ROBERT COLLYER.
It was Cbristmas eve in the year fourteen. And as ancient dalesmen used to telL n»e wildest winter tbey ever bad leen.
With the enow lying1 deep on moor and fell.
When Wagoner John got out hi* team {trailer and Wbitefooc, Duke aad Gray, With tbe light in his eye* of a youn* man's dream
As be thought of his wedding on New Year's Day.
ro
Ruth, tbe maJd with tbe bonniebrown hair. And eye« of tbe deepest. canniest blue, tfodeat and winsome and wondrous fair.
And true to her troth, for her heart wai true.
Thon's furcly not goinf," shouted mine boat. "Tbon'li be loai in tbe drift born.
rby
aa sure aa thou's
lass winnot want to wed wl' a gbost. And that's what tbou'il
be
morn.
on a Christmas
'It's eleren Ion* mile* fra Bklpton toon. To Blueberg booses and Washburn dale, rbou bad better turn back and sit tbee doon.
And comfort ttoy heart wi' a drop o' good ale."
furn tbe swallows flying South. Turn tbe vines ajrainst tbe sun. Herds from rivers in tbe drouth.
Men must dare or nothing's done.
So what cares tbe lover for storm or drift, Or peril of death on tbe haggard war. He sings to himself like a lark in the lift.
to
And tbe Joy in bis heart turned December May. Out tbe wind from tbe north brings a deadly cbtll,
Creeping into bis heart, and tbe drifts are
deeo,
7here tbe thick of tbe storm strike* Blueberg hill. He is weary and falls on a pleasant sleep.
And dreams be is walking by Washburn side, Walking with Rutb on a summer's day, ringing that nong to bis bonnic bride,
His own wife now forever and aye.
Now read me this riddle, bow Rutb should bear That song of a heart, in tbe clutch of doom, (t stole on nor ear, distinct and clear.
As if her lover was in tbe room.
And read me this riddle, bow Rutb should know, As she bounds to throw open tbe beavydoor. That her lover is lost In the drifting snow,
Dying or dead on tbe great wild moor.
'Help! help!" "Lost lost 11" Kings through the night as she rushed away, 4tnmbllng, blinded and tempeat tossed.
Straight to the drift where hor lover lay.
And swift tbey leap after her into tbe night. Into the drifts by Rluebcrg hill. Pullan, Ward, Robinson, each with his light
To find her there, holding him, white and still.
'He wasdrad in the drift, then," I hear them say. A* I llntcn In wonder,
Fifty years syno come Christmas Day.
•Nay.nay,they were wed," the dalesman cried, By Parson Onrmalt of New Year's Day. 'Bonnie Uuth were me great-great grandsire's bride, And Maistcr Frank land gave her away."
'Rut how did she And him under the snow?" Tbey cried with a laughter touched with tear*. •'Nay. latls," be said softly, "we never can know.
No, not If wo live a hundred years."
There's a slffht 0' things gan. To the mnklng o' man, Then I rushed to my play With a whoop and away. Fifty years syne come Christmas Day.
CHRISTMAS SURPRISE OR, The Pranks of a Mysterious Santa Claus.
BY INEZ IRVING.
"Oh, mother!" Josie Woodward exclaimed, bursting into the kitehen, her hands full of mail matter. "There's the greatest excitement down in the village!" "What about?" asked Mrs. Woodward. stopping short over the pies she was
putting
into tho oven, when she
saw ,IOkie's Ihifhed faec. "Why. a great box came to Prof. I.rirry iv t\press this morning full of piTsc: t.« put on tho Christmas tree to-niunvu Vti-ht, and nobody knows who so:
it.
thvrv."
Thev are just crazy talk
ing it ovi down at the post. otHicc. I should
think
hut' the village was
••Santa CUm« sent it. of course," re» marked Mrs. Woodward, promptly. She :i liU'Uu'Hy matron of 45. "Ye*. bt:t Santa i'lau* i* a real live person nowadays," laughed Josie. "Bert. Csrr let out the secret. It was to baro been kept until to-morrow evening and even* one was to be surprised. 1 guess Prof* Larry is In tho secret, but of conrso no one can get a word out of hitn. Edith Larry got a peep into tbe box when they opened it, and you know she ean't keep Anything, so she told Carrie Goss, and now it** all around." "I am afraid it is some kind of a 11." said her mother. •*Oh, no indeed. They've got {mother Christmas tree, a great big one. just for the mysterious present*. I met Fred Briggs with his oxen drawing it down from the woods. I should think it was large and long enough to hold a too of presents. So we're going to have two urea. 1 declare I wisB to-morrow night had come,"
The December dusk was falling. Through it* shadow? the door opened and a girt stepped inside in a familiar wav.
Josie sprang towards her. "You. Delia! I am so glad to see you! Come over to the fire and warm your t:os*e and your little cold fingers. *T ve just come* from the village aad know tiow ftwty it is." "Merry Christmas! Mr*. Woodward," c,tiled lieua. "I guess you are doing vvur part towards making one for oihr*. your g\*wli*s smell so «we«t." \lother has enough cake aad pies -d doughnuts baked to last two u. nuhs." intrm«ed J«s»e, •A worry hrSstmaa to you Miss IVU.V said*Mn. Woodward. ***rmhalf to have yon cajch me with my t'-akisg around latev but Mr*. Nor* !»»n's bor :**»k tMs morning r.r.1 .cat
far me.
v.
That
p«i
me
-ti* my work." ire awvgwng to have a bang luv-rry by' all wteOBtt," *at4
Jttnk "At least #om«bodv fefe.v
-•What do von n»*acr* a*ke*f LMla. •Oh, haven't ws heard? H*t«a'ty«i Iztz
:e
ius
and Josie proceeded td give the details aWa liait mthenMl ironnnff' Delia's Miri»
you have got
your things and you shall stop to supper," Josie said, commencing to unbutton her cloak. Delia demurred and said she only run in for afew moments, and her folks would expect her home to supper. But Josie carried her point.
A heavy tread outside and a sound of some on®scraping snow from his feet, then Bert Woodward entered. He was the widow Woodward's eldest son, and carried on the farm, which was situated nearly a mile from the village.
He looked a tall, stalwart, rather handsome fellow as he strode up to the kitchen fir? to warm his hands. "Merry vliristmas!" Delia called oat from tbe snug corner behind the stove oven. "Why, Delia, yon so near?" he exclaimed. "I wish you a very merry Christmas, and that you may hare lots of presents fnm both Christmas trees." ••Then yot have heard the news, Bert?" Josie called out, catching his words, as she came out of the pantry with a plate of tarts and a huge sauash pie, which she placed upon the table she was spreading in the roomy, homelike kitchen.
Yes, Seth Blake told me." "Who do you suppose sent it?" asked Delia. "Hard to guess. Perhaps the mystery will come out to-morrow night."
The matter was thoroughly discussed by tbe quartette, when a little later tbey gathered cosily around the table, the bright wood fire snapping and crackling cheerily. All seemed bright and prosperous with them, and yet a dark shadow lay on Mrs. Woodward's heart, as she thought o? the past Before she laid her head on ter pillow that night she prayed "Father in Heaven, care for my poor wandering boy, if he be yet alive, and bring him back to his home," tbe petition that had gone up nightly for seven long years.
Tho brilliantly lighted church on the bill wm crowded. The warm, bright air was impregnated with tLe odorous breath
of
the woods, exhaling from the
wreaths'of evergreen gracefully festooned -tli around, and from the two Christmas trees, one towering loftily above the other as they stood nearly side by side, each laden with a- richer fruitage than they had ever dreamed of in tbeir forost home. The tall one was the central point of attraction. The bright, expectant eyes of old and young were turned toward it. There was sucb a delightful mystery surroundinr it and all had vague hopes they might be parti ipators. Professor Larrv, the principal of the high school in Weston, ha/" Been as non-ODmmittal as a post, an much annoyed at Burt Carr's prema ture disclosure. The most important part, however, still remajned unsolved. "There's Deacon Stebbins and his wife, I dcclarc," Josio whispered to Delia. "He's too feeble to get out to ovening prayer meetings," said Delia. "Yes, but that tree fetched him," retwrned Josie, who, though one of the pupils of tho hi^h school, was not always particular in her choice of terms.
Her mother gave her a half reproving look. Not only Deacon Stebbins. Poor overworked Mrs. Lovctt, who hadn't seen the inside of the church for years, was there with half a dozen youthful Lovetts in queer costumes, grouped around her, looking upon the gay scene with hungry, shining eyes, lliram Kimball, a misanthropic old man, with whom the world had gone so hard that tho milk of human kindness in his nature seemed all dried up, had como out—"to growl over tho tomfoolery," one of the youngsters in the crowd averred. Jamie Adams, too, sat in a pew beside his mother, his crutches at his elbow, his palo face and large, sad blue eyes, now luminous with anticipation, bespeaking patient euduranco. All of theso anu more were there in addition to those who usually monopolized public gatherings in Weston, and a faint glimmer of the light that shone around the angels on that Judean night so long ago, shone into their weary hearts.
There was a literary entertainment first upon tbe tapis. The excited, expectant crowd wero with difficulty called to order. After tnusid* select readings and tableaux—all of which passed off creditably—the important ousiness of the evening came on.
The master of ceremonies. Squire Frost, stepped to the front of the platform and announced that the mysterious Santa Claus would distribute the
faden,with
rifts which the two trees were commencing with the smallest one.
A murmur ran around the church. The suspense was prolonged, expectancy was heightened. "There he is! there be Is!" was repeated from one to another, as Santa Claus, in old-time flowing white beard and quaint, picturesque costume stepped from behina a curtain. The antiquated attire conld not disguise the outlines of the well-formed, manly figure, and conjecture was rife.
He stepped to tiie front of the platform, flourishing a wand decorated with red. white and Que ribbon, aad delivered a short address, in gruff, good-na-tured tones, eliciting peals of laughter, then stepped back ana began to despoil the tree that was now shorn of much of its interest by tbe tall mysterious one beside it "Dear, dear, I shall be glad when ha gets through with this one. I'm so impatient to know who are to have all those lovely things on tbe other one," said Josie.
At last the tree was dismantled, and r.n id lar zVing and chatting, Santa L..»« tur^. to the other one. "Sow then!" said Bert Chase. "I tell von Bock and Bright had a good palf to bring *V*U out of the woods vesteroay." Fred ggs whispered to bert shaking bisheaaTwiUi pardonable pride in the part he aad his oxen 11 Wen calked to play In Ute excit^ 4rasca.
Stebfcitttf* Santa Clans OKI ia »^al tones. SteL^Jiw has a €$t*t*tfna*
pmt«r' "I knew be expected or.'-, that** whv be came oatr* "He's eldest
wfey a inbabi
ttstj Santa Claus £&**>*'
respect to •gt!"' were some of the exclamations heard on all sides. ••Go, deacon," said his wife, as he hesitated and he arose and hobbled up the aisle as fast as his rheumatic joints would admit.
Santa Claus put a box in his hand, mattering something about "coals of fire on his bead," which the deacon did not quite understand. He hobbled back and seating himself beside his spouse, opened tbe box. It was found to contain a meershaum.pipe and a handsome tobacco box filled with tbe finest quality of the fragrant weed. "Some one who knows the deacon well," remarked Charlie Rowell, glancing over his shoulder. "His devotion to the weed is touching to behold." "I should like a whiff at that pipe after it is filled," said Harry Hobbs, a precocious youth of fourteen, "but as I haven't been a favorite with the deacon since I tied a tin pan to the tail of the old gray mare, I don't suppose it is any use to ask him for the loan of it" "Mrs. Mary Lovett!" Santa Claus called out
The name came distinctly to her ears where she bat in a back pew, and her face flushed almost painfully. Who had remembered her? In all these years of struggle with poverty, and a worthless drunken husband, she had never had a present that she could remember. "Go, Mrs. Lovett," whispered a sympathizing neighbor in the pew behind her, as sne hesitated and fidgeted diffidently. There, he's calling you again."
She walked up the aisle slowly, feeling a painful sense of contrast between her poor, shabby garments and those of the comfortably dressed matrons around her.
Santa Clans eyed her a moment as she stood before bim. "Go back and bring all the children," he commanded.
Half dazed, she obeyed him, and headed tbe procession back again up the aisle—Tommy, Jamie, Nellie, and the rest little Peter, named after her brother, bringing up the rear. They came with wide open eyes and halfshamed faces. The observed of all observers was a new role for them to play in.
There was a lively interest a stretching of necks, and half of the crowd rose in their seats as SantaClaus took a dark, heavy shawl that had been hidden away in the recesses of the boughs, and shaking out its folds, threw it over Mrs. Lovet?s shoulders. Then taking down a rich scarlet and white cloud, which had made a fine contrast to the dark, green branches, be flung it half playfully over her head. Before she had ceasod wondering if the bright church, tho beautiful tree and Santa Claus were not all a part of a happy dream, he slipped a Kussia leather portemonnaie into her hand which contained a crisp ten dollar note.
Then this most curious Santa Claus began pelting tbe row of little Lovetts with all sorts of presents bright, warm ngs, mittens and caps. Tbe little girls held out their hands ea-
socks and stockings, mittens and caps. Tbe little girls held out their hands eagerly for tnc great wax dolls in blue and pink silk, white lace and spangles, and nugged tbe often longed-for ^treasures close to their hearts. Tbe boys bad as much as they could do to catch the tops and balls and marbles that he rained upon them, and Tommy fairly forgot himself and clapped his hands in an ecstacy of delight, when Santa drew a little painted sled from behind the tree aqd placed it before them.
They hardly knew what to do with all their things, and when Mrs. Lovett collected her scattered senses and led tbe way back to their seat the little girls, radiant over their dolls, Tommy orag-
fing
bis sled, looking so wondrously appy, tears glistened in more than one pair of merry laughing eyes, it was all such contrast to their hard, bare lives. "Jamie Adams!" was next called.
Whoever Santa Claus might be, he was evidently bent on looking out for the less favored ones first.
Amid a burst of applause, for his patience and sweetness had won all hearts in Weston, Jamie went upon his crutches. And he was heaped with presents. A warm crimson comforter, a fur cap, books and papers and last but not least, a great hanusome easv chair which would fold up was displayed by Santa Claus before his eyes. Jamie's face was almost transfigured as- he went back to his seat beside his mother, one end of the long comforter dangling after him along the carpeted aisle.
And so it went on. Name after name was called and the tree was getting dismantled pretty fast Tbe more prosperous ones had fewer presents but nearly every one was remembered. "Miss Delia Stone."
Delia sat with Mrs. Woodward and Josie. Her heart fluttered a little |as she arose and made her way to the tree. Santa Clau« placed in her hands*a handsome work-box inlaid with ivory, muttering something about former days that she did not catch distinctly. "Oh let me see! Oh, isn't it lovely!" were Josie's exclamations, as Delia came back to her seat "What a lovely gold thimble, and bodkin and needle-case, and its all lined with rose-colored satin. "Who do yon think Santa Clans is, Della?" "I cannot guess," Delia said, her pretty face all aglow. "Miss Josie Woodward," sounded out through tbe happy tnmnlt "Oh, he's calling me. I'm all in a flutter." Josie said.as she edged her way out past her mother.
She extended her hands to receive a heavy volume bound in rich (crimson morocco and gold, which she had been eyeing longingly all the evening, as its
flit
edges shone out from the dark ranches. "It's some one who knows I am fond of reading, anyway," die said, as she harried back to'her plact beside Delia.
Oh." as she owned its creamy-tinted pages, "it's Will OHton's 'Farm Ballad? See what kn '.y illustrations! I just love Santa Claui whoever lie is," press!- the safT: page against her soft, jawing ehv-^
The tree was about empty. One more name was called: "'Mrs. John Woodward.** "Sow it's mother's tarn," said Josie.
Mrs. Woodward, te-ilf less excited ii .: ad
%#,
lltl|M
TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MA IT.
HHianf
shawl. The laughing, and talking, and universal merriment was at its height when Sqnire Frost stepped to the front of the platform again and announced that Santa Clans would appear in his own
proper person before them. Thi sensatiop for a moment ^Then there was a hush in the clamor. One might have almost heard a pin drop as a rather handsome young man of about 21 stepped out confronted the audience ana made a low bow. "I am happy to meet you all once again my friends," he began.
rhis announcement heightened the
A blank pause. No one seemed to recognize the man who addressed them so familiarly. "You have forgotten the poor, awkward, blundering boy, who never had any gumption."
There was a stir in one of the side pews, and before half of the dumbstruck audience knew what was taking place, Mrs. Woodward had mounted the steps of the platform, and with a joyful cry was clasping her arms about the neck of the stranger, crying: "Tom! Tom! mv son, my son! Restored to me at last*'
Before the electrified audience could recover breath, Josie bad dropped her treasured book and fiown after her mother. He clasped them both iu bis arms in an ecstacy of gladness. "Tom Woodward! Why it's Tom Woodward," went around the church. "Who would have thought that goodlooking man was Tom Woodward,"said Mrs. Baker, wonderingly. "He looks just like his father did at his age," said Dame Goodhue. "I noticed the likeness the minute be stepped out" "Yes, it's Tom Woodward, can't you sec bow be favors bis mother's side, the Perkinses," Mrs. Stebbins said to the deacon in aloud whisper. He, groping back through the dim past remembered how be had often snubbed and scolded the boy, and half understood tbe allusion to "coals of fire."
Tom Woodward! Poor, despised Tom who was always making blunders, forgetting errands, and forever loitering around Walker's saw and grist mills.— Tom who, when sent to school would play truant and go off alone and whittle out little wheels and other nonsense with bis jack-knife and set them in motion in the brook. Tom who conld never learn to read and spell and who made pictures on his slate half of the time instead of working his addition sums.
As he grew older he became dogged and sullen. Even his mother failed to understand him, and sometimes treated him harshly. One morning he was missing. He had taken a few things and stole away silently in the dead of night. Search and inquiry were instituted, advertisements inserted in city and county papers, and they had almost given him up for dead. "They don't understand me. They think I'm dull and stupid. I shall be if I remain in this dead and alive place much longer. I'll go out in the world where I can have fair play, and see if I cannot be something, he thought as he paused on the top of tbe hill and looked down upon the sleeping village.
And he had done something. He had wonderful mechanical genius, little guessed by those who scolded him for idling his time away among the mills, and ne had invented and patented a wonderful piece of machinery that had already brought him a large sum of money, was likely to make bis fortune.
He was eighteen when be went away, he was now a handsome, vigorous man of twenty-five. Elated withbis success, in the fullness of his heart be had taken this novel way of surprising his old neighbors. Squire Frost once more made bis voicc heard from the platform. In a few moments the proccssion began passing up one aisle to the platform to shake hands with, and welcome bim
Rffiflf ,,.
thoughts.
"Welcome home and a merry Christmas, Mr. Woodward," was Delia's salution as her little hand lay in bis strong palm. "Thank you. Your's is tho sweetest welcome of all," he said in a low tone, adding, "I haven't forgotten how you used to help me with my sums when I was in disgrace." "Nor I now you used to draw me on your little blue sled," laughed Delia.
So everybody went home that ni^ht with light happy hearts, and family groups sat until a late hour around glowing fires talking over the wonderful event
At tbe Woodward farm-house a great wood fire was roaring and crackling in the fire-place in the big old-fasbioned parlor, and around it sat a happy family group. Delia Stone was with them siie had always been like one of tbe family, and they listened while Tom recounted his struggles and final success. "This is your Christmas present old fellow." Tom said to Bert as he banded him a handsome silver watch reposing in a satin-lined morocco case. "I was afraid of letting the cat out of the bag too soon up there if I gave too much to the Woodward family.
Bert thanked bim, but in the midst of all the brightness a shadow was looming over bim. He had hoped to win Delia some day. He knew be should find a rival in bis clever brother who had acquired gifts and graces from contact with the great world which rendered bim attractive to girlish eyes. Already Bert could see tiiat there was an understanding between them, and recalled Delia's fondness for Tom in their school days, though she was five years
^AmTprof. Larry had known all about it long before the box came, for Tom had written him for particulars of his family and tbe old residents, enjoining secresy for a time.
Tax King of Denmark is trnly a paternal monarch. Finding that during the recent aerere weather toe royal foot gr.irds were suffering greatly from
Coughs, the good *»?d
'le® onlerea a supply oflr. r'.'s O &rrfor «,«•» and now tbe series are i-*ppy.
lis.
HiSfS!
'"A -i
Wm. Pawett,farmer.
St. ph't .. used Brown's If Bitten »accewi~~ly for inflamed eyes.
*:-T
Christmas Ohoer.
Famished by th* Beat Ambon.
Numerous, indeed, are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief of happiness and enjoyments How many old recollections, and bow many dormant sympathies does Christinas time awaken? We write these words now, many miles distant from the spot at which, year after year, we met on that day a merry and joyous circle. Many of the hearts that tnrobbed so gaily then have ceased to beat many of tbe looks that have shone so brightly then have ceased to glow the hands we grasped have grown cold, the eves we sought have hid their luster in the grave and yet the old house, the room, Uie merry voices and smiling faces, the jest the laugh, the most minute and trivial circumstances connected with those happy meetings crowd upon our mind at each recurrence of the season, as if the last assemblage had been but yesterday. Happy, happy Christmas, that wins us back to tbe delusion of our childish days that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth that can transport the sailor anil the traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet home.—{Charles Dickens.
This is the season when the world is gayest and gladdest—not that external nature's smile is brightest, but that the very air we breathe is bearing to us on its wings the grand old Message that unto all tbe world a child is born. Oh. wondrous Message, that can so enthral the ages! I acknowledge thy power. I salute thy source, for surely good must have been begotten of good. A strain that has preserved its purity through eighteen centuries of time, had been tne glory and inspiration of humanity while dynasties and generations have crumbled to nothingness, asks more than Reason's gauge of me. The bird sings in my heart to-day, while cant and bigotry slink mute away. How poor and mean must that soul be which cannot expand beyond the narrow region of sectarianism when it knows tbe earthwide reach of this compassionate Christmas message. I pity all such souls. To them the season brings little grace, I fear, and if there be children waiting on their love with what anguish ana disappointment must they see only tbe cruel stone where they had asked* for bread! Unhappy is tbe child across whose Christmas sky rolls a cloud so dark.—[St'^nor Max. "Llffht on thy hills, Jerusalem!
Tho Savior now is born 1 And bright on Bcthlchem'a joyous plain Breaks the first Christmas morn." —E. H. Sears. "With gentle deeds, and kindly thoughts
And loving words, withal. Welcome the merry Christmas in. And hear a brother's call." —F. Lawrence. "Christmas comes but onco a year." —Thomas Tusscr. "The poor will many a care forget,
The debtor think not of his debts. But as they cach enjoy their cheer, Wish It wero Christmas all the year," —Thomas Miller. "Immortal Babe, who this dear day,
Didst change Thine Heaven for our clay, And didst with tlenh Tby good head veil. Eternal Bon of God, all bail."
Bishop Hall.
"The belfries of all Christendom Now roll nlong The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men." —H. W. Longfellow. "But tbe star that shines in Bethlehem
Bblnee still, and shall not cease, And we listen still to the tidings Of glory and of peace." —Adelaide Proctor. "This happy day, whose risen sun
Shall set not through eternity: This holy day when Christ, tbe Lord, Took on Him our bumiiniiy." —Phoebe Carey.
This day
Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love. —Shakspeare. As fit* the holy Christmas birt h,
Be this, good friends, our enrol stillBe peace on earth, be pencc on earth, To men of gentlo will." —Tbnekcray. There's a song in the air, there's a star in tho sky, There's a mother's deep prayer, and a baby a low cry: And tbe star rains its fire whilo the beautiful sing. And the monger of Ilcthlehem cradles a king. —J. (i. Holland. 'Twos Christmas broached the mightiest ale 'Twas hristmns fold the merriest tale
A Christmas gambol oft could brer Tbe poor man's heart through half the year. —Sir ,Walter Beott.
'Tis the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, tho genial flame of charity in the heart.—Irving. Wko taught mankind on that first Christmas day. What 'twas to be a man: to give, not take, To serve, not rule to nourish, not devour To help, not crush if need, todie, not live? —Charles Kingsley.
Rise, happy morn! rise, holy morn 1 Draw forth tbe cheerful day from nfgbt. Ob Father, touch tbe east, and light
The light that shone when Hope waa born. —Tennyson.
Capacity of tbe Chicago Stocking. "Papa," said a gushing young damsel of CbicagoJfeTwant vou to give me this CbrtonJHl sealskin sack and muff, a ^pir^TC diamond earrings, that beautiful writing desk we were looking at tbe other day, and busbels and bushels of French candy. Will you, papa?" and the dear thing's eyes danoed in glowing anticipation, while her feet beat a tattoo on tbe velvet carpet that sounded like muffled thunder. "Ah, my dear child," replied tbe proud father, as be gazed at his daughter with a pensive, up ward-tendency-in-pork look, "indeed I wilL Just bang your stocking np in tbe back yard and I will fill it for you. darling, if I have to chuck in a bouse and lot—RochrMer Express.
"Merry Christmas, motherf cheerfully exclaimed liule Charlie Miggs, as be bounded into his parent's presence with a face beaming like a new brass kettle. "O, don't merry Christmas me!" growled the old lady. "Yesterday afternoon there were six mince-pies upon the
«frMii..»BS
of
Diamond Dyes ha single complaint, tbe favorite Dyes.
So i* Br-r
^s.
S^*-»4
-iij
.Ait L„rf
Professional Cards.
DR
A. H. DEPUY.
11? north Sixth Street,
R. B. F. TOM LIN'8,
4
TEHRE HAUTE.
EYE*AND EAR A SPECIALTY. hours to 12 A. M. HOURS to & p. M.
R. AXGELINE L. WILSON
Offers her services
To the Ladies
riiU
childreu of
Terre Haute.
Office and Residence—234 south Seventh Street.
Office hours from 1 to 3 p. at. J. RICHAJUDSOX. R. W. VAN' VAULAH RICHARDSON & VAN ALZAH
DENTISTS.
Oftick—Southwe6t corner Fifth and Main, streets, over National State Bank (entrance* on Fifth street. Communication by Talephone.
OAL ©I
THOMAS,
Optician aad Watchmaker hor the trade, No. 515 Maiu street, algn of big man with watch.
Blapenaary and ritnle IJO. •115*4 Ohio Htrcet, TERRE HAUTE, INDIANA. Will devote his entirv attention to hia »pedallies. Send !or paper coutaiulug certlflcwies of cure*.
O. LINCOLN, DENTIST
Office, 19K S S'.nh, opposite P. O. l£xtraotlng and artiflctaJ teeth apeolalUe*. All worlt warranted.
W. BALLEW,
DENTIST,
Vflra, MS^ Mailt ItrMl, orer Nine's •Id confectionerj atand. TKKRK HAUTE, IND.
Oan be roond in office night aad day
(iEO.T. ~BC)NVYEli VETERINARY SVR6ESIK. Lute of Winchester, Kentucky, OFFICE—llerdick stable*, cor. 8rd and Walnut ft reels. 00ll«3m TERRE HAUTE, IND
BAYLBSS W. I1ANNA WM. H. HP KNOCK, (Late of Illinois) ANNA & SPENCER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW. OFFICE: Southwest corner of Third and Ohio street* up sUiire, Terre Haute, Ind.
Will practice In all the court* of thin and adjoining counties, and in the federal courts of Indiana and IltlnoiK. Will give Btrict attention to collect ton*, examination ot titles and oettleraent of rotatea.
Business Cards.
RANK PRATT, Im|M»rier and Dealer In ITALIAN MARBLE AND ORAllTB
MONUMENTS,
Statuary, Vases, &c., 4?., COR. FIFTH AND WALNUT BTS
E E A E IN
AGNER & RIPLEY,
1 no porter* and worker* ot
Ncotrh (Jranlte and Italian Marbl«
MONUMENTS,
8 A I A 1 N N A No. 418 Cherry *n''
5,,,•
TKWWK HAU't K. INP
COAL.
WM. LOVEZE,
linn sunk new *U«ft In Btultunmi Hill, on thel'nria road and tui nowMippiy the BEST OVER THE ltlVKU COAL at the inoM n'nnonnlilo pticcx.
GAGG,
R.
dkai.FB JK
ARTISTS" SUPPLIES,
PICTURES, FRAMKM. MOULDINGS. Picture Frame* Made to Order. McKeen'a Blork, No. M0 Main strsot between 6tb snd 7th.
W. 8. Chirr. H. WtLUA*», J. M.Curr
CLIFT,WILLIAMS & CO,
MAJ»CFACTCK*SII Or
Sash, Doors, Blinds. &c AKt
DSALSRS
and
gtl&A
of tbe
packages msoldi
been sold without a Everywhere tbey are
IW
LUMBER, LATH. 8HINULE8. GLASS, PAINT8, 0IL8
BOLDER#' HARDWARE* Jfoiterry Htreet, Corner Ninth, TKRRE HAfTTK, IJ»D
One Dollar! One Tear!
The Weekly Plain Dealer. Cleveland, O. fil.&O for a year'* •nlwrlnUon. A leadlnc Democratic journal an'l valuable Family jsewnpaper. Send dollar forthe beat paper in the Wcat for the price. Pum VtAUat Pi'BLiSHixo Co., Cleveland Ohio, Ham pie copy free. lAfHTC are reaping a bs»» .AbtfllO™*
well
This morning
top shelf of the pantry, there are only five. Noi
ow, where is that
other pte?"" "Mother," solemnly answered the boy, "as true as I live, I don't kiiow, but brother Bill has been it Hug round the bed ail night, sick enough to d!e."~~/»'«* Eagle.
Belling our
I KHcfeta Q*w Safety L«pc
land other bou*hoM
•I 'cLIPPIR CO. No, 288 Walnut St.. Cincinnati, O.
weefc.madayatb^eewrtlymads os O it re A
$d to
•kk
drcm
ucn*«a. Maine.
sottd Co., PcrtJ#-. •. Maine.
JUS
True A On