Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 38, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 17 March 1883 — Page 3

I1) ••*i "V

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

Kitty's Prayer.

•^'Tbe la threw is dyin', the doctors have said so. Ocb, who'd be a docthor, to bring as our deaths? .o sit by our beds, with a band on the bead so.

A feelin' the pulses, an' countin' the broths! To drive to our doors In a vehicle stately, OutBtretchin' a band for a fee on the sljr, [CTo settle our death? for us very complately.

An" very contintediy lave us to die!-

The mlitbresfl is dyin'—it is such a pfty— Tbo master just worships the ground 'neath her tread, Bbe's such a swate cratbur, so emilin' and pretty-

IS there no cross ould woman could go in her stead? fibe trates us so kindly, we think it an honor

To larn from herself her own illegant ways. I lov'd her the minute I set my eyes on her. An' what will I do wbic she's dead, if you plase?

"I hate our line doctor! be ought to be cryin* But smiled as be ran to bis carriage and book, •Jist aftber be tould us the darlint was djrin'—

Sbure, if sbo recover*d, bow quare be would look! know he's a Janius—tbe best in the city— But God's above all—even docthors—who knows I am but a poor sarvint," says Kitty, "But even a sarvint can pray, I suppose. 1"

So, down on her knees In a whirl of emotion, with anger and grief in a terrible swing, Her Irish tongue praying with utter devotion.

In faith that but few to their praying can bring.

The poor little servant—her tears flowing overImplored with a force tbat.my verse cannot ive, tbi lover,

With tbo zeal of a saint and tho glow of a

That, in spite of the doctor, tbe mistress migbt live.

!pic master sat close by bis darling, despair in His stupefied sorrow—just holding ber bandHe prayed, to be sure, but no hope bad his prayer In

In fact, he was dazed, and could scarce underetand.

Ser delicate lips bad a painful contraction, Her sensitive eyes seemed sunken and irlazed Ho know In bis heart there could be no reaction,

He just sat and ^saw her—in fact be was dazed.

A pallor less ghastly—the Life springs to tho face In a

prise—

Leaps up In his heart while be watches bis wifeIs It life before death? is it fanoy's sweet error?

Or is it—or can it be—verily LIFE!

Ob, send for tbo doctor—death bangs on each minute— They wait for bis flat as that of a god— Who sagely remarks that there is something

In it,

Grnntlng leases of life with an autocrat's nod. Joy rings through the house tba was silent in sadness

The muster bellevos that ho ne'er felt despair, And Itty, tho servant, laughs out, 'mid her gladness,

To think that they none of them know of ber prayer. —Good Words.

MISCONSTRUED.

••And you really mean to say that Ida Ixion is to be married at last?" said Mrs. Dr. Darrington. "Keally— at last," said Mrs. Judge VanDuyn, and not a little maliciously. "Nearer thirty than anything, isn't she?11 Mrs. Darrington asked. "Thirty-one last September. I declare I am surprised to near she has at last decided to marry." "And they say Lennox Beaconswold is a very groat catch, I'm told—handsome, popular, and all that." "Undoubtedly," Mrs. VanDuyn condescended. "But, you know, what astonishes mo is that Ida should consent to nmrrv anybody. Sho has such a horror of being married for money, and is so very particular, and "Well," said Mrs. Darrington, rising, •Til beliovo it when I see Ida Ixion at tho altar, anil not beforo," with a venomous little relish in horthin voico. "It is surprising what little things ofteu break an engagement—and somo such grille would be sure to intluenco Ida, oven at the last minute." "Especially that she is so jealous and suspicious."

And while these two dear frionds of Miss Ixloti wero traveling over the bride-elect rough-shod, that lovely little dark-eyed lady was thinking, as she drove down to Frisolet's to see about a parti re. of pearls, that it was rather strange that after all her rosolvos to remain single, handsomo Lennox Beaconswold had in short order sent her vows of ten years' duration to the four winds of heaven. "1 do believe Lennox loves me truly and sincerelv, and yet I dare say every love-sick girl thinks the samfr of her lover! I wish I know positively! I believe in Lennox so unhesitatingly when I am with him, bat when ho leaves me thero comes a chilling doubt over me. But how could I ever—ever give him up?"

And on this very day the bridal dress was Iving on the spare bed in the Ixion mansion, the wreath of orange-blossoms and the point d'Alencon veil in their

Kught,

rfumed boxes, tho wedding-ring the festivities ordered. While Ida ocgan to realise that her inevitable happiness or misery was very near at hand! "My pearls, please," she said to the clerk as she went up to the plate-glass-shielded counter. "You will have to wait ft few minutes, tua'ann Just sit down, please," he'said, rushing to wheel forward a luxurious cushioned chair from the wall where it stood.

And so Miss Ixion sat down and waited, and not a second had elapsed before she heard the voice of Lennox Beaconsvrold—from the private office of the firm—a walnut and plate-glass railedoff little space not a yard from her.

Her tirst impulse was to call to him. She half started up, then desisted. •Til wait until he comes out^ He is on some business or other."

And then Mr. Frisolet's voice, deliberate. full-toned, musical "You don't mean to say you want to back out of your engagement, Mr. Beaconswold?" "I mean just exactly thai since you put it so plainly. I would back out in one minute if I excuse.

'•-r^Qtg&Saigg, rii.

f-t

julver—

sudden sur

Grim Death retrogrades with a sad little shlvor— She smiles at tho master, ber soul in her eyes I A wonderful bono—Is It hope? Is It terror?

?JAnd then Ida felt a swift chill, something utterably sickening, thrill all over her. "Why, it's too bad, too bad!" Mr.

Frisolet said. "Why, let me see, the wedding is to come off only next week!"

"Yes, it is," Lennox said calmly "Oh, but you can't back out of it now!" "I don't know about that." and Ida knew just the expression of face that accompanied her faithif*- lover's words. "I really think I shall. M? "Frisolet man is bound to do the he can for himself." "But, my dear fellow, what will Miss Ixion say?"

Then Mr. Beaconswold laughed—and that cut Ida to the very inmost soul. "Oh, she won't care—I'll answer for her." "And she'll tell him so," Miss Ixion decided, feeling she could endure it no longer. Her cheeks were burning, her eyes blazing, as she rose and went towards the door of the private office— not so private as it might have been, it seems—just as the clerk came towards her with a black velvet tray in his hand. "Here is the pearl cross, ma'am." "The pearl cross?"

Ida looked at him in a vague sort of way. Pearls! What were^peaffl^ to her now?

"Never mind it," she contrived to say somehow. "I am going—there." "I beg your pardon, ma'am"—in tones of absolute amazement—"but nobody goes in there.except on business. It is Mr. Frisolet's private office." "1 have business, most important business," she said imperiouslV, and swept past the wondering-visaged clerk, still holding the tray in his hand whereupon lay the pure gleaming pearls and into the office where Mr. Frisolet lounged on a sofa-arm, and Mr. Lennox Beaconasvold leaned against the man tel. "Miss Ixion!" Mr. Frisolet ejaculated, spriuglng off the sofa-arm in astonishment. "Ida!" Mr. Beaconswold exclaimed, not a whit less amazed. "I hope I don't intrude," Ida said with a strained little laugh. "But it so happened I overheard the matter you were just discussing, and I believe I am somewhat interested?"

Sho would,have annihilated Lennox, if a look had been capable of such terrible destruction, but instead of any such catastrophe happening, that gentleman brokq into an amused little laugh. "Somewhat interested? Of course you are."

Ida drew her figure to its haughtkst height "Do not troublo yourself on my account, I beg. I release you here and now." "You release me! From what, Ida?" "Miss Ixion, if you please. From your engagement to me."

And then a stern look came over his face—a sterner, graver look than she had ever thought to see dyrected to her. "For what roasoqi *^,#44 "Can you ask what you have said—what heasd you say?- she Hashed indignantly. "Ida! You talk in absolute riddles. What do you mean? What have I said to warrant all this? I demand an ex planation."

It was evident he was not to be trilled with—nevor had she seen him look so handsome, never had her heart and soul gone out in such wild longing for him as at this moment—the last she would ever be with him. "What did you say? I think I can refresh your memory. You said it yourself, Mr. Beaconswold—I heard you—tht\t you desired to 'back out of your engagement,' that you 'could do better.'"

Her heart was throbbing very undisciplinedly as she stood there, so lovely, and flushed, and agonized, beneath all her chilling sarcastic hauteur—and then Mr. Frisolet stepped forward, suddenly smiling and delighted. "My dear Miss Ixio^, it wasn't* you he was talking about at all! It was a carriage and pair which he had partly agreed to buy of my brother!"

Ida turned*suddenly pale. "Lennox! Was it?" "You have heard what Mr. Frisolet says, Ida. A man doesn't like to be doubted—or—suspected."

With her sweet eyes full of penitent tears Ida ventured up to him. "Oh, Lennox! I am so sorry, so i^hamed! Oh, but I am so glad! Can you forgive me. will you?" "My darling!"

So they were dearer than ever afterwards. "Only, Ida, vou must have more confidence in me in the future," he said laughinglv. "Indeed I will never distrust you again!"

And of all contented happy people, Mrs. Lennox Beaconswold is the most contented, the happiest, and Mesdames Darrington and VanDuyn like it!

-don't quite

In an article on cheap reading matter in this era of paper mills and lightning printing presses, the St. Louis Republican observes: "When books which were once reserved for the rich may now be owned bv news-boys, and when everv well-comfucted daily journal is in itself a small library of good reading, there is no excuse for empty brains—and the number of empty brains must of necessity constantly diminish."

Italian wines are too good, abundant and cheap this year.

Diamond Dree are ao perfect'and so beautiful that It Is a pleasure to use them. Equally good lor dark or light colon. 10 cento.

Well Rewarded.

A liberal reward will be paid to any party who will {Kodooe a case of Liver, Kidney or Stomach com pfeint* that Electric Bitters will not spwuilly can. Bring then ft kmc. it will cost you nothing for the medicine if it fails r*, and vou will be well rewarded foe oeskk

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TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

An Anarchist's Senaa.

Tht Wonderful Weight of a BOOM and Lot aa a /, Factor in th« Social Problem.

Saying this, the stalwart man swallowed his whisky at a gulp and stalked out, leaving the"anarchists dumbfounded at his impudence and ignorance.— N. T. Journal.

Singeing the Hair.

A correspondent writes: "London barber shops are queer in conveniences. I went into one the other day and nearly broke my back trying to pose for a hair-cut ami shave in an ordinary wooden chair. (Oh! for an Archer chair.) The barber is proverbially loquacious everywhere and very much concerned about the absolute needs of your head and hair. Mine informed me that my hair was very thin and needed singeing. I demurred. Just as I was about to rise, however, he said, 'You won't be satisfied unless you have that hair singed.' Determined to get as much experience as I could in a short time and for a little money, I resumed my backaching attitude and the phagos lighted his taper, grasped the comb, applied his torch and in an instant my head was covered, like little lulus', with a lambent flame. You should have heard that unfortunate barber squeal! You see he had spread the bay rum and tonic pretty thickly beforo I made up my mind to undergo the singeing, without washing his hands, and hair and t\ands* were victims of a grand pyrotechnic display. I rose with some haste and great indignation, and trusted that the young man was satisfied. Hereafter I shall have my own way in that shop, and that young man won't be so profuse with his recommendations.—Rochester Chronicle.

M. Hartig estimates the specific volume of green wood constituents as follows: Hard green wood, fiber stuff, 441 water, '247 and air, 312. Soft green wood, fiber stuff, 270 water, 335, and air, 395. A certain amount of' water, varying from 7 to 8 per cent in all, is included in the fiber stuff, showing that about one-third only of the mass of tbe timber is really solid woody fiber, and that the remainder is filled either with water or air contained in the cells.

Unless Mary Wilde, of Canton, Ohio, be in her second childhood—and her eighty years would indicate as much— she is deserving of no sympathy. She might have known, when Charles May, aged forty, asked her hand in marriage, that nothing but mercenary motives would induce a man to wed a woman old enough to be his grandmother. She now repents her folly, for her darling Charles has stolen her $1,500 of hard-earned money and gone bade to "Vaterland."

TOT Publlabem of tBe Hichmond. Fa. Ewqwrcr heartily recommend Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup and say: "It has been well tried in our office and composing room, and has cured our dty editor of a very bad case of Bronchitis. v?

They were drinking and talking very loud in the famed beer saloon of Justus Schwab recently. Tbe loudest man was Herr Most. Whenever he said anything he said it veiy loudly and pounded his red fist on the table and made the mugs dance again. But there was one man jn the crowd who did not join the chorus. He was a big, broad-shouldered man with red side-whiskers and a heavy jaw, and he carried a big leathern whip in one hand that he now and then put under his arm and patted affectionately.

In the midst of the applause, and ta-ble-pounding, and chorus of admiring ejaculations that accompanied Herr Most this brawny visitor remarked stolidly that he didn't believe a word

°fForrWife..{ Herr Most glanced around on the beerdrinkers and struck his fist upon the table threateningly, with a dangerous look in his eye that asked, "Have we a bloated aristocrat among us?"

The brawny man looked round calmly and said: "This 'ere sort o' chin-music about the people goin' in for a division o' property justshows that you don't know anything about the kind of people you've droppeu into." "The workingmen all over the world are brothers, said Herr Most. "They believe in liberty and fraternity. They are the rulers and masters of the globe. All they want is to be consolidated!" "Pickles!" said the stalwart man. "The time has come when they have

fespots,

ot to assert their rights and remove all out of their path, whether they are political, or social, or commercial tyrants. Death to all who oppose!" said Herr Most "Gas," said the brawny man. "We've heard that sort o' stuff too often. I'm a workin' man myself. What do I want? I'll tell you. i" want a house and lot o' my own for my wife and children, an' I've got it. How did I get it? By workin' hard for it. "Now, you just listen to me a minute. When I first come to this country I had your notions. I went in for mass-meet-ings and secret societies, and 1 b'leeved we ought to take what we couldn't earn. I b'leeved the laws was made for the rich, and the poor man had no show.— That was what I b'leeved I got it on the other side. "Well, what took it out me? Why, that house an' lot. Thars what shut me up. 1 don't want no law breakin'. I want more law, 'cause I want my property protected. That's what's the matter with mo, :x 1 that's what's the matter with one-half the workin'-men in this country. If you want to work your circus you'll have to go among the emigrants. If you wait till they've been here five years they'll cut your throat if you talk about llisturbin' the property interest. Why, you don't know the a of this country, old man. You don't understand the climate. I do. All the howling killers that I used4 fco ruq. with ten years ago have got bou£e&And lots up in Morrisania. Why, you can't stretch out your hand to feel for one o' them steerage pals o' mine without touchin' a Deputy Sheriff or a railroad man. You'd better talk that business to them now, you had. The American workin'man's all right for your scheme till he gets a shanty of his own up."

An Age of Monologue.

"There is no comfort in talking nowadays." sighed a nice old lady recently: ••even the best-bred people interrupt so that one can never finish anything.Everybody wants to talk, but nobody is willing to listen." Perhaps the inattention of her hearers to some pet stoir had ruffled the speaker's usually placid humor, and undoubtedly she stated the case somewhat strongly, but there is unfortunately far too much truth in her remark that in these days everybody wants to talk and nobody to listen.

It is partly because it is an age of prolific, if not always profound thought and the simplest of our Acquaintances are seething with ideas that jostle each other in their eagerness to come to utterance. For the most part these ideas, like Dr. Holmes' moral, run at large, and are caught from the air, but none the less do they compel speech, and the result is that conversation has well nigh become a lost art, and we live in an age of monologue

Two or more people sit down together, and .each utters his monologue, more or less brilliant, as the case may be, paying no especial heed to the words of his companion, and only in the faintest degree modified by them. Epigram, anecdote, simile and. wise observations are poured out to unheeding ears, not for the sake of being heard, but for the sake of utterance. We have become like so many Cassandras, and bear about the burden of prophecy with an inward necessity of declaring it which is mightier than we. We read, we talk, but how seldom do we listen.

Evidently something must be done, for we are losing the art of conveying ideas by word, and unless listening is cultivated as a duty we may become as unable to converse as we now are unwilling. And he who consents to become a hearer instead of a speaker will not only have the consciousness of merit but he may also congratulate himself upon having adopted tho surest road to popularity.—Boston Courier.

How American Girls Talk. We are told that talking is only a variety of singing, and in listening to the talk of American ladies, that doctrine becomes easily acceptable. At first the pitch sounds somewhat shrill, though not disagreeably, only unaccustomed!) so. By and .by you begin to like it as presumably we should like any keynote coming from pretty lips. There always seems a nottf of "interrogation at the end of the spoken sentences 'of American ladies, and a sort of cosyquerulousness.vnot so much "plaintive as sympathetic, a splinter peradventure of the pity which is said to be dangerously near to love. Nevertheless, over the rows of lonnging chairs on deck, there seemed to brood a sort of cooing sound as of well-contented doves. The young American ladies take the talking reins in their hands very early in life. At fifteen the}' ease their mammas considerably in that respect, and singularly enough, with their mamma's consent. The English mammas, at that age, would! prefer conversationally sleeping r& this early American talk there no gaSble. These young women rising sixteen speak as deliberately and naturally as Mr. Henry Irving, and without the mocking twinkle ofnaving something in reserve which renders the talk of that eminent actor not unpleasantly irritating. English girls at the same age talk as it were with their hands behind them,, as if to conceal a skipping rope. The Yankee girl looks you straightly and serenely in the face —we never ourselves shirked the ordeal —and screels off an easy bobbin of conversation you may act as "piecer" if you please, but generally she does the "piecing" herself you have sat down to talk to your companion as a child, and before the talk is over an interval of three years is supposed to have elapsed, and you say good afternoon to a self-possessed woman. Should anyone run away with the idea that all this is unnatural or precocious, he should be undeceived. For us it was one of the pleasantest pastimes on the ship—and when the sun was shining and tbe waves were dancing, there could be no more agreeable accompaniment than the unaccustomed chant of the New England dialect, with its note of interrogation at the end.—An Englishman in the Manchester E?"miner.

Dr. Tanners Strange Experiments. The wife of fasting Dr. Tauner has lately taken up her abode in France, having obtained a divorce from her eccentric husband under tho following circumstances: Dr. Tanner, it appears, is peculiarly addicted to extraordinary fancies, and some time since he thought he had found out that the human character becomes modified according to the food taken by the individual, and especially in relation to -the vegetables consumed. Carrots, he avers, make people fidgety and sly turnips produce extreme amiability, while a prolonged diet of French beans induces great irritability. The carrying out of this theory has brought great trouble into Dr. Tanner's home. He made a heavy wager on the question with some friends and experimented on Mrs. Tanner with French beans, giving her to eat about three pounds of the vegetable daily. It is not altogether to be wondered at if, after such a regime, Mrs. Tanner became rather more irritable than was perhaps contemplated, and threw a jug at Dr. Tanner's head. The doctor, however, gained his bet and. more thoroughly convinced than ever of the truth of his theoiy, put his wife on tbe turnip diet, so as to make her as amiable as she was before the French bean men. This time, however, tbe rewas not so strictly in accordance with the theoir. Mrs. Tanner objected to being any longer a subject for these vegetarian experiments, sued for a divorce, and what is more singular, obtained it

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A DISORDKRKD LIVER IS THS BANE the prsssnt feneration. It is for the Qnr* of thia dlaease and its attendant^

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t, l"WS.

EXCMMOR.WM^writes: "1

had Typhoid Fevor In 1883. followed hry a Hnckut Owjh. I tried everything I could hear of that- might do mo any good, but grew worse from day to dny until tho doctors said I had incurable Cmuttmption. Then I tried DB.WISIIAKT'« Punt THICK TAB CDBDIAL. Klglit bottlar restored my health entirely."

LTDIA A. BAKKR, ADAMS

R«V. C. 8. HAWMAN, RKADW PA., says: w». afflicted with a very Son Throat, great pain irhil# $ptaking,and cMnrbrng mu tUep. 1 tried different remedies without relief, until the testimonial of Rev. J. P. Leib induced me to use DR/WISHAKT'S P:NE Twer T*a CORDIAL. Ono bottle completely cured my complaint."

VILLI,

MICH., sayn: "I had

the Atlhrnn for thirty ytart. Not able to Ho down prior to taking Da. WWHART'S PIKE TBKR TAR COBDUL. Havo had no trouble since then."

D. B. GBIM, SIIABPSBUBO, MD., says: "WISHAR-" PINK TBKK TAB OOBDIAL hat entirely cured me 0/1 Kidney DUenteJ"

OR. WISH ART'S PINE TREE TAR CORDIAL has b« •old throughout tbe country for tbe last thirty yeaU and Is recognised as one of the moet r$UaMs BKiloB dealt ia by Druggists.

for ALL. CJLI-

J||BS.

A11IA. AA Cll

W «kM»viitl Ml

I^brafry :7We.tM«,.Iew York City. DrtWUi.mmii It. FOB COI'IMU Spring• AAlaKrafArl IbI Dr. Clark JohnSon? I had asevere Cold and a abort trial of your B1XM1 »Y RAP cared cured me.

dlM

ftaT 'hlf^^EARS

the ME CHANT ddktMT FAMILY

0CCf\CiFor tho PRIVATE FAMILY SEcOo'crowB by ourselves siLffiiLaaaLEacaa 1 TlAirUtMi Vtl

SEEDS SEEDS

comMnatton of of Iron, Peruvian Bark andrho*phoru*i» a palatable fomu For DAUUy, Lof* °fAgPr% tUepFrottratIon of Vital Power* it isimdiipeneabl*.

BJEV. J.

PURIFIES

It.

TOWHBB,

Indostzy. Hl-t W:~ ... "I oonaidar it a most excellent remedy tor the debilitated vital forces.