Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 52, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 June 1883 — Page 6

v.

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6 'im :t

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TO LATE.

Fold tbe sheet back softly, Throw the shatter wide Doea she Dot look lovely? 8tatiling so, the died

At the sunset boar, At the death of day: And we thoaght her dreaming

When she pawed away. No she did not sufferOnly faded so, As the flowers wither,

Patiently and slow.

And each morning found her Frai er and more weak, Beadier to leave us,

More divinely meek.

Only one great longing Filled her breast alone, Jost to see your features,

Just to hear your tone.

For fche had forgiven All the years so long Darkened by suspicion,*

Jealousy and wrong. Some things did look badly, People talked, I know, But you'd sworn to cherish—

And she loved you so.

And it had been nobler, Manlier, to my mind. Had you been more patient—

Just a little kind.

If you had not listened To fay

IIOU UUI IWU3UCM quite all they said

Nay,

I

won't reproach you,

Now she's lying dead'

Now you see as I doKnow lier pure and trueDo you think she knows it?—

That you love her, too?

Had you written sooner! Ah, 'twas cruel fate That the word she longed for

Came a day too late.—

ABA L. SUTTON.

SWEPT AWAY.

A STORY OF THE SANGAMON. BY WIJLLIAM O. SFODDART.

"Bob, tny boy, can you swim?" The tall, somber-looking man on the gray horse was evidently speaking to the only other living being withiu hearing out Bob made no reply other than a forward pricking of his ears. "What uo you hear, Bob? Whoa! hai It almost seems to me I can hear something. Is it the river, old fellow? What if we should find the bridge down when we get there?''

That queation explained the first and gave some point to it, since nothing then in sight offered an occasion for swimming oy either horse or man. To

beHUte.

the road under them had a wet

and miry look, but it was not at all bad for a man on horseback, whatever it might have been for anything on wheels. A succession of heavy "out-of-season rains had ceased ouly the night before, but they had fallen with so sudden a hammering of ponderous waters that they seemed but to have beaten the black soil harder. Thus they had drained of instead of soaking in, and the watercourses had received the greater part of the flood. As a natural consequence, all the smaller chanuels of the prairie country were brimming full, from grttsa to ras«. while the rivers were swollen to oatiilng wrath in their furious incompetence to do thoir appointed work as "common carriers." At this hour every "slough" and "run" and "fork" was discharging Its excess of burdens upon the main street to which it belonged, and it wan a little of the turmoil and upaoar so created that reacbead the ears of Dr. Dalrimple's gray horse. With every rod of rldiug forward, after that brief pause, the muffled sound grew louder, in its sullen expression of watery discontent, until the doctor drew his rein at the eastern end of the long, uncanny-looKlns wooden bridge acrotts the Saugamon ri\

iver.

What do

"Flood? I should say so! you think of It, Bob?" The whinney which answered him was full of anxiety, for the turbid torrent was already rising to a level dangerously near the floor of the bridge, what was worse amass of drift-wood had already gathered in a growing "raft" against the slender supports in midstream, and around and over this bridle of its own making the Sangamon was roaring angrily. "Awful pressure just there," said the doctor, but as calmly as if he were feeling the pulse of a sick man. "Unless that fever goes down, the bridge can't last till sunset. It isn|t safe now not for a minute,"

Bob was clearly of the same opinion, for his ears were moving uneaallvaud he pawed the mud as if the river before him were having an effect upon his nerves. His rider was still a young man, and he was well and powerfully framed. His rolce was tirin and brave, and even cheerful. and It was just the sort of a voice which sick and weakly peojple are sure to like in the man the ask fretful questions of. Still, his features were too strong and too deeply marked for beauty, and there was a cloudy sadness in their expression with which the Sangamon flood bad nothing to do, for it evidently belonged to ttiem. Some other ana deeper cause had given Ha right to settle and remain. Moreover, in the pleasant brown eyes there was a far-away look, as if they were'habitually seeking for •omething which they could not just now see.

The doctor was considering the ease of the wooden bridge, and he was not sure he understood the symptoms. It was groaning and complaining, indeed, and there Were even signs of tremor ana unsteadiness but these might not be toKens of approaching dissolution. The bridge might stand it through after all and get well. "Is it worth the risk? If I thought she were waiting for me. it would be. I remember the time. 1 do. I'd have swum it then. Weil, no I donl think It would pa* to swim it now, and itisnt nir fault either. I won't say whose it is,"

He was not looking at the river just then, bot as if at something beyond it on the further bank. Suddenly he straightened in his saddle, as if he had been sharply stung, And the words fell hard and quickly through his nut-brown beard and mustache: "Yes. just as If she did I 1 will. Go 'long, Bob!"

The gray mare uttered somewhat di»* maved out submissive nelgb. and be hesitated a little when his feet oegan to sound upon the planks of the bridge sod the roar of the waters arose all around as well as before kins*

MI

re crossed it often enough/' soliloquised bis rider, "bot I never saw tikis bridge look so long In my Ufc. Seems a* If the other end of It were half a mile away."

The die was somehow cast, however, and there was a gloomy, determined expression even In the mere questioning tones of his now deep and mallow voice. It was evsrso mu«b deeper, and it want

ed to come from further inside of him than when be asked Bob if he could swim. The gray

horse

I'll be a little militarv.'' There was 1688 of hesitation in the stepping of the gray after bis master began to walk In front of him, but he manifested an affectionate disposition to thrust bis long bead over she doctors shoulder. "This bridge is very sick indeed. Just hear it creak. I declare, it'll be a perfect battering-ram!"

He was glancing excitedly up-stream when be saw that and he and Bob were nearing the middle of the bridge. So and much more swiftly was a long and narrow raft of heavy timbers careering down the Sangamon, head foremost, as if the river were about to use the spoils of its other victories in a desperate effort to bre^k away this barrrier also. "Bob, my boy, I'm sorry I've led you

into

such a scrape as this. You'll have to take care of yourself. There it comes.

I wonder

what Sophie will say. She'll

be well enough provided for, any how. Poor little Harry!" At that instant the solid head of the raft struck heavily upon the logs which had been gathered for it, against the frail pile work of the central piers of the bridge. A loud cracking sound answered the blow, followed oy a moaning and groaning, as if of a long wooden bridge in great distress. The timbers of the "battering-ram" swung swiftl around, to add their flood-pushed sbou. dersto the Sangamon's last, heaving lift. Dr. Dalrympie bad already dropped the bridle ana was bounding vigorously forward. It seemed as if a minute or so went but the seconds were very few before a dull craSh followed the groan. The Sangamon had succeeded perfectly in its push for freedom, and the bridge went suddenly down, almost from end to end. Even in going, however, its timbers held together for a moment, and that was a good thing fcr Bob. His terrified, bounding plunge, wbeu he found

the

planks tilting under

him, carried him into good, deep, easy water to swim in, and it was at once quite evident that he could swim. He went under for an instant, and then his head arose above the surface, and be tried to look around, as if he were seeking for somebody. There was nobody to De seen. Only a surging rush of turbid water, sown thickly with the wrecks of the bridge and with driftwood from the upper waters of the Sangamon. The good gray horse was hurried away down stream, as if it were intended to use him against Some other bridge but he swam vigorously, and, if bis master could have seen him, he would, surely, have said of him "There is nothing very alarming in his case. The danger is over. I wish all my patients were doing as well. There is really no

further

treatment required."

CHAPTER II.

That same day, at the very hour when the doctor first paused to listen to the voice of many waters,* an uncommonly merry little social gathering was breaking up between the piazze and gate of a prosperous looking farmhouse, only a tew miles from the western end of the long bridge over the Sangamon. There were four ladies and two gentlemen. Of the former the younger three did not resemble each other but they Fairly'clivided among them enough of likeness to the portly dame who presioed over the group to add an emphasis to her occasional and reproving: "My daugher!"

That her restraining presence was in some demand may, in part, have been due to the fact that,of the two fine-look ing .yeung gentlemen before her, one wasTotn Brownlow, as much the bro-ther-in-law of all three of the daughters as he was of Maggie, his own brother's wife, and the other a gentleman best known on that bank of the Sangamon as "Handsome Jack Foreman." "Addle! Addle Belden! my daughter!" "Now, Mother, it was all Sophies lault. She told me I must never get married, and I said "Yes, mother," said Tom Brownlow, merrily "and she said nobody had ever asked her. And I did it on the spot, and here I stand rejected right before a crowd."

wt

"Go and drown yourself in the Sangamon," exclaimed Jack. "It's up now good and high. It's deep enough to drown auytblng." "Margaret,"' groaned Tom, "speak to Adelina for me. Tell "her what a good husband Carr makes, and you know I abetter fellow than be is."

Addle can say what she pleases," began the taller and by all odds the prettier of Mrs. Belden's trio but she was interrupted by a smiling, but firmly spoken •'Sophie,my daughter! Where did you say the doctor went this morning Was it beyond the river "Th

Jhen she's a widow,"said Jack. "I've heard 'em sing about It." Sophie all but carelessly replied to her mother's question "Yea, ever so far. There's no telling when he'll get home. That's one reason I came over here." "You needn't say anything, Sophie," remarked Mrs. Brownlow. "You've more liberty now than you had before you were married."

There was a troubled tone now in Mrs. Belden's, Maggie, my daughter!" but Mrs. Sophie 1 Mirympie turued toward a a "I must go home now, and look out for little Harry. You ought to see how that child does grow." "So I ought," said Jack Foreman, a little suddenly. "I'll go right along with you now. It's worth walking hair a mile to see a really first-rate baby. You'll show him to me "Yea, I'll let you see him. When are you coming over, Mother?" "To-morrow, perhaps, unless your father comes home. He may want me here, if he does. Mr. Brownlow is coming with him you know." "Then Adeline will be happy," said Tom. "She will have me all to herself. Jack, you beat me by just one second on that baby question. I meant to see Sophie homw. I did."

It's too bad, then," remarked Addle. ••I'd have been rid of you for all the rest of the day. Mother, cant you and Maggie send him somewhere after something? "Walt till Oarr comes fcome," chirruped Tom, ssudiy Mben I won't have Maggie too on my bands and I can give you my satire time. Pll sin* for you that i*~ weil,if I canH sing, 111 whistle."

They were "wurying on a htUe,"as the phrase goes, and these was no barm In it whatever, and they were all young and happy, and the world was made to be bappv infand Mrs. Sophie Dalrympie did not know that her husband had decided to try the bridge over the Sangamon at about that time.

A few moments later, she and handsome Jack Foreman were aaantariog along the grassy path at the roadside, and utere was nothing in the akles above or on the earth beneath that could account for the shadow which lurked under all the smiles on the faos of the doc­

TBRRE HAUTE

seemed to be

feeling his was as he put down his hcofB. •'They say that when cavalry have shaky bridi mount an

to cross they always dislead their horses. I guess

v?.

tor's wife. It had been there all the while and it had deepened a little at the moment when she was giving to her sister Adeline that remarkable hit of advice as to not getting married.

Jack bad seen it then, and he saw it now but it could have bad nothing to do with what be said to her, a few rods further on, with a sbsde of sobriety flitting across his own features. "Wonder if Tom and Addle are really engaged? Nobody could tell by the way they talk." "Tbey havent told me. If they are, I hope they'll stay so." "What,and not get married? Well, now! By the way, what a popular man Dr. Dalrympie Is getting to be. Everybody wants him they say," "They send for him all the time. I don't see much of him." "Then you shouldn't have married a doctor."

There was a deep, quick flush on his face, and another on that of the young married lady he was walking with, for there was a good deal hidden under Jacks very simple-seeming remark. It Had been said of Sophie Belden, before ber marriage, that she bad had a larger list to pick from than any other girl between the Sangamon River Bridge and the North Fork. She and Jack Foreman both knew the name of at least one who had been passed over for Dr. Dalrympie, and she walked a little more stately for a moment. Then she said: "Carr Brownlow and Maggie get along splendidly. Tbey were just made for one another." "Perfect match. You couldn't make either of them jealous, if you tried." "I don't know about that. Addie may have got beyond it but I don't believe Carr has. His eyes are not so black for nothing."

The talk ran on but it had to be kept up, and a conversation that requires continual nursing ought not to be more than half a mile long. They were both glad at the end of the half mile, when tbey saw Harry's nurse at the gate of Dr. Dalrymplers house, with the young

Eis

benomenon in her arms, waiting for mother's arrival. Jack could hardly say enough in the way of admiration. "Two years old I should say he was three. What an arm that is! And what a bead! Are you going to make a doctor of him??" "So bis father says." "By the way, did you hear what they said about the river?" "Is it very high "Perfect flood! Hasn't been so high before in years. At least, not at this season. If the bridge is washed away, you won't see Dr. Dalrympie till tomorrow, for all the boats are floated off down stream." "It isn't easy to stop him. He'd find some way of crossing."

Hope he wont try then. It would be bad for all the sick people if he should manage to drown himself."

Once more handsome Jack Foseman had managed to say something that made conversation flowjkilong less readily afterward. There wap so little of an overflow of talk, now the baby was exhausted as a topic, that even an invitation to tea was parried by an excuse, and Mrs. Dalrympie was left alone with Harry and the nurse. Then the latter went into the kitchen, and Harry went into his crib, and his mother ate her supper by herself. After that she strolled out through the front door, and took a look at the setting sun, and another at the roses, and more than one down the road that lead to the Sangamon Bridge, four long miles to the southward.

Everything around her seemed more than ordinarily hushed and still, and yet she several times turned her finely molded head toward the east and seemed to be listening. "Seems almost as if I had a ringing in my ears," she murmured. "It's like the sound you hear when you put a conch shell up to hear the sea. Strange! I never heard it before. It can't te the river. Why, it's at least a quarter of a mile to the nearest point of the bend." "It was all of that, and yet it may have been the river, even without any bridge to roar against for the soft, low, faint murmur was very much like that made by rushing water.

Sophie ceased listening and bent again above her flowers. "There, I've pricked my fingers. There are thorns on all roses. I didn't put them there I did not dream they were there, either. Did he make the mistake, or did I Or did we both make one? I wish he wouldn't be so gloomy about it anyhow. I'm going to just make the best I can of it."

She looked again down the road, dreamily pulling to pieces the rose upon whose thorns she had pricked her fingers. "Kindly? He could not be more so, if I were one of his patients. I suppose he thinks we have got to live together. It's too late

She ceased at that word, for ber eyes bad caught something at a little distance somebody was coming up the road. "Not him, and yet it's time. He has no need to be in any hurry all that sort of thing

Perhaps the rest of it was of a nature she did not care to utter but she dropped what was left of the rose and walked quickly towards tbe gate. "It looks like Bob!'

A few moments later a half grown boy, on a sorrel pony, halted in front of the gate, and pointed to tbe horse he was leading by the halter, and said to her: "You're Mrs. Dalrympie. Is this 'ere tbe Doctor's boas He swum ashore nigh our place." "Swam ashore!" fit w* I "Out of tbe river. Mam she said it was the Doctor's hoss and Pop be told me to fetch him home, and ak if be wasn't your'n and 1 rid by tbe bridge as I come up." "The bridge?" huskily sprang from Sophie's whitening lips but ber young informant went stolidly on: "It's all washed away,and Bill Anderson, he said be was tbar when it give *way and tbar was a feller right into tbe middle of it when it went, and be was leadin' a gray boas, and tbey didn't see ao more of him. Not a hair!*'

She did not answer him. She was staring at the water-soaked saddle as if her stony eyes were straining after tbe form she had seen in it that morning. "I'll bitch him for ye, Miss Dalrympie. I'd stay and put him up: but I've got to hurry right on up to Garter's Corners and git back to-night, and I can't bot jest make it with this 'ere pony."

Tbe sun was already down and tbe lingering light seemed only to last while tbe meaunger tied tbe gray horse to tbe hitching post. to be in any part of hung bfa bead dfl$ed» with only a half the words that burst as tbe sorrel pen tbe bearer of ev

Bob did not him hurt bot edly. and he a audible wbmr from Sophie's lipa. cantered away with tidings. "His boras? Tbe bridge? Tbe river Henry!"

The boy on the pony mint have beard avehto bea bar, for be be

beaet a sharp cut,

remark 'Feels bad. Reckon she doea. He's down stream, sore's you live, and never find hide nor Mir of him."

1 1

SATOHDA.Y 'EVXiiSl&tir

And yet, after all, he was not the one who carried tbe message to Sophie Dalrympie. It had been brought by the good gray horse, who came to his master's gate without a rider.

1

CHAPTER III.

Half an hour later Bob was yet standing at the roadside, more like a gray statute than a living horse, when two singularly unlike persons met face to face almost beside him,

Handsome Jack Foreman paused in tbe easy swing of his homeward walk to remark: "Got back, has he? Ah? Saddle soaked? Wonder how he happened te

Enews."

st in. I must stop snd hear the

"Mister!" exclaimed the harsh, creaking, but still feminine voice of the arrival from the opposite direction "Mister,do you know Miss Dalrympie, the Doctor's wife? I do, and I met her hereaway down the road, 'bout two mile, and I spoke to her, and she never said ary word. She hadn't any bonnet on, and she went by me as if she was sent for and her face w'n't right. Does she ever use likker? Or has there somethin' happened It kind o' come to me afterward as how she might be took in her head." "Mrs. Dalrympie Did you say you met her!" were the first syllables Jack could wedge into the voluble flood of talk of tbe gaunt, hard, rough-looking old woman, who was thrusting her face so'nearly into bis own, in the eagerness of having something so to say.

J*.remarkable

j-Jfe I

"I know 'twas her." "Oh! Mr. Foreman," exclaimed at that moment the voice of little Harry's nurse, on the other side of the gate, "something dreadful's happened. I know there has. The Doctor hasn't come home and there's his horse, and Mrs. Dalrymple's gone, I don't know where." "I can guess where. I'm going after her," almost shouted Jack, as he strode away. Tbe nurse and tbe bony old woman were left to exchange their budget of news, for he vanishea in the growing darkness. "Afoot he muttered at the end of the first hundred yards. "How'd I bring her back? No, I must go to Belden's for Tom's buggy. Stii 'em all up, too."

He made that half mile a wonderfully short one, and as he swung open the gate, the merry voice of Addle Belden rang

out upon the piazza, "Here's Jack Foreman again Mother what do you say "Tom!"

Now,

There was an intensity of ominous meaning in that one word, which made every soul on the piazza spring forward. "Tom Get out your Duggy. Get a horse for me. We've got to go and hunt for Sophie." "For Sophie?'' almost Bcreamed Mrs. Brownlow, and ber mother's voice added mornfully y'"Oh my daughter." "The bride is down. The Doctor's horse came home without him, and Sophie's off down the river bank, nobody knows where. Quick, now No time to lose!"

Tom was already bounding away toward tbe stable, and Jack followed him, and tbe only hope of the ladies for further news of the disaster lay in hurrying after them both. Addie alone lingered for bonnet and shawl, and she said to herself: "I'll go. I might be needed. I'll take another shawl, too."

That was thoughtful and it was but a minuteor so before she was seated in the buggy, beside Tom Brownlow, while he urged his fast trotter behind the rapid galloping of Jack Foreman. "He's got your father's bay thoroughbred," grumbled Tom to Addie, "and there's no use trying to get ahead of him."

VO,

Tom, this is dreadful!" "Ofcourse.it is but you ain't tell yet. Maybe nothing's happened worse than having to put up a new bridge. The old one wasn fit to Btand a flood."

It was not a very good time for conversation, and more had been consumed than at all suited the needs of the occasion, if they were to catch up with Sophie Balrymple before she should reach tbe bridge. The place where the bridge bad been, and where a few shattered and twisted timbers and half-submerged piles formed now a ragged and balf-tragic seeming terminus for the black line of the road.

The gaunt and bony old woman was the only human being who had spoken to Sophie, as she pushed on through the deepening shadows of the trees that lined tbe path she hardly knew she was treading. One or two more had turned for an instant to look after ber but, as one of tbem said to himself: "She* g'wine right stret along and midin' her own business, and I reckon I know enough to mind mine," and she was not interrupted.

Tbe four miles went by her like a nightmare, and then tbe nightmare stood with her in the shadow of the deserted little "toll house" at tbe broken bridge-bead. At five yards distance no eyes could have discerned either it or ber, bot ber own eyes seemed to have received a mysterious power to search tbe blackly gleaming surface of that angry water*

They were searching, first, for something which could have carried a man across tbe Sangamon—a man on a gray horse. She held Jior breath for a few moments, and then she gasped, hoarsely: "It is gone. Yes, it is gone."

After ihat, as he.» swift vision wandered among tbe scattered flecks of ghastly foam, it was searching ror a face it could not find and all tbe while tbe dingy white satcbes were whirled away down tbe pitiless torrent, "Swept away!" she said again. "He was swept away."

It was a gloomy spot, and it was a weirdly gloomy watching, and that seemed to laat for years. It seemed to watch through all tbe years since first sbe bad looked in tbe strong, manly, loving fare of Dr. Dalrympie. Thus it was reaching on, atrangely, into the years that were to come, when sbe grew dimly conscious of human voices. Tbey were not far away and they were coming nearer, and the first words that she almost understood were: "Wall, you've bed a narrer eacape of it, sure's my name's Bill Anderson. I was on tbe bank when she busted, and I seed ye go over but I didn't see ye come op again." "I did come up, though, right between two timbers. I was caught and cornered and I couldn't see over tbem. They helped me keep up but I was swept away down stream like a bobble." "Got stranded at tbe old Peter's place, did ye say? Why, that's milea and miles by tbe river, and it's a good bit by tbe road. Yer boas, be took the bank nigh Stle Williama'a a»d his boy (the little possum don know roore'n two cents' wutb), he kem by bore jest afore sundown a-leaden' of him home." "Home? My horse? That's too bad! Now Sophie '11 think *-Heory! Husband!"

Ob! what a voles was that which ao suddenly deft the darknew. And the

^iHsreT^You My blessed wife!"

"Beckon

in git oat of tida,"mnttered

MATT*

Bee to read by." He was hnrdJy up the bank, in the middle of the load, be tore a sound of galloping hoofs came hurrying near, and behind it was a whir of rapid wheels.

A

horseman drew rein

suddenly and sprang to tbe ground. "Haveyou seen anything of a woman? All slone Bareheaded ?,r "If you mean Doc Dalrymple's wife, she's bareheaded yit but she isn't alone. He and she are right down tbar, and I reckon they don't want any help list now. Can you bear how sne's kind o' sobbing She's jest found him, and he ain't drowned. I reckoned be was but be wasn't. He was kerried down to the old Peter's place afore he could tech grass, though." "Tom Addie! They're both there!" shouted Jack Foreman for the buggy, too, was there now. It's occupants were quickly out of it, and Tom Brownlow, at last got a chance to say "Put her in the buggy, Doctor. Addie and I will walk home." "I was just going to offer you my horse," said Jack. "Too late this time but I'm just as much obliged. Addie's broOght a shawl for her, doctor. Get right in. The mare will take you borne inno time."

Dr. Dalrympie had hardly said a word and Sophie had clung to him in a silence that all the rest somehow thought they could feel, it was so intense. Tbey were both in the buggy before they exactly knew how they got there and the fast trotter's head was turned homeward. Jack Foreman remounted with a half dissatisfied air, as if there might be something disagreeable in such a ride but be did not try to catoh up with the buggy. Neither could he have restrained Mr.belden's thoroughbred to a pace which would have kept him very near to Tom and Addie. To tell the truth, they were not walking very fast, and Bill Anderson remarked, looking after them "Wall, no. They ain't in no kind of a hurry to git thar."

Half a mile or so further on, if he had been near euough, he might have heard Tom Brownlow say,with a queer tremor in his voice: "Tbe fact is, Addle, that did it. The next time I'm drowned I want somebody to be as glad I'm saved as Sophie was, to-nlglit, over the Doctor." "Ob, Tom!" "Do you think you could? I'm uotso good a doctor as he is." "Don't, Tom. Plehse, don t. I'm so glad she hasn't lost him." "Tell me, Addie, if I had been in his place?" "Tom! Tom! I'd have been down here bareheaded."

And no listener would have had a right to hear more than thak It was hardly later, so fast the trotter used up those four miles,

wfcen

The gate seemed to burst open, as the wheels passed in front of it. "It isn't Tom—it isn't Jack, mother it's the Doctor himself "Here I am, safe and sound. Sophie, too. Why mother, have you brought out little Harry?" "I couldn't let him out of my arms, somehow," sobbed good Mrs. Belden. "Thank tbe Lord, Sophie! Why don't you thank the Lord? Was the bridge swept away?"

Dr. Dalrympie was standing at ber side now, for he had helped Sophie out while they were speaking, and the nurse ran to hold the trotter. For some reason, 3ophieand her husband tried to kiss little Harry at tbe

Bame

time, and the

latter replied to his mother-in-law: "Swept away? I should say it was. So area host of other thing. Swept away forever. "It's Ixen a terrible flood," said Mrs. Brownlow, vaguely and Mrs. Dalrymple's comment was even more vague, for sbe murmured: "Splendid! Wonderful! Yes, it's all swept away. I'm so glad I can't be thankful enough." "Come on into the house, all of you," exclaimed the Doctor. "1 can't bugthat baby till I've changed my clothes. They are all mud, and they're damp yet."

The universe is full of paradoxes, and here was one for bridges are built to bring people nearer, and floods and torrents rise to keep tbem apart, and yet there were hearts on the banks of the Sangamon that night more closely united' than they might ever have been if tbe sudden flood had not risen against tbe bridge and swept it away.

There are wonderful uses in floods, and handsome Jack Foreman may have discovered one of them, while all alone, he

VIM

leading Mr. Belden's thorough­

bred back to the stable be had taken him from. "I saw ho#it was. It's been looking that way for some time. I don't want to see 'em come home. Last chance gone. Just swept away, like tbe old bridge." it

GBWTI,BMAI*

A

from Orwell, Pa.,

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Dr. Benton's Skin Cure eradicated my pimples. They wed to break out continually." Steve T. Harrison, Rochester, N. Y. $1. at druggists.

Ttoe Bad ssd Wartkless

are never imitated or counterfeited. This Is especially true of a family medidne, and It is positive proof that tbe remedy imitated is of tbe highest value. As noon as it bad been tested and proved by tbe whole world that Hop Bitters was tbe purest, beat and most valuable family medicine on earth, many imitations sprung up and began to steal tbe notices in which the press and peopie of tbe country bad expressed the merit* of H. B., and in every way trying to induce suffering invalids to use their stuff instead expecting to make money on tbe credit and good name of H. B. Many others started nostrums put up la similar style of H. B.. with variously devised namea in which tbe word "Hop or "Hope" were used In a way to Induce people to believe tbey. were tbe same aa Hop Bitten. All such pikended remedlea or ctuea, no matter what their style ot name la, and especially those with tbe word "Hop" or ^Hope" in their name or in any wey connected with tbem or their name, are imitations or counterfeits. Beware of tbem. Touch none of tbem. Uae nothing but gennlne Hop Bitter*, with a boncb or duster of green Hope on tbe white label. Trust nothing else. Druggists and dealers are warned inst dealing in imitations or counter* again fSta.

'ar^s. tfb 1

a little

group at tbe Doctor's own gate caught the approaching sound of wheels. "They re coming, mother." "Oh! Maggie, my daughter, if we only knew who were coming.' "It's Tom's horse and buggy. I'm sure of it." "Then they've found her." "But the Doctor? Can they have found him so soon? O dear!"

St

That's a common expression and has a world of meaning. How much suffering is summed up in it

The singular thing about it is, that pain in the back is occasioned by so many things. May be caused by kidney* disease, liver complairft, consumption, cold, rheumatism,dyspepsia,overwork, nervous debility, &c.

Whatever the cause, don't neglect it Something is Wrong and needs prompt attention. No medicine has yet been discovered that will so quickly and surely cure such diseases as BROWN'S IRON BITTERS, and it does this by commencing at the foundation, and making the blood pure and rich.

Wm. P. Marshall, of Logansport, Indiana,writesMy wife has for many years been troubled from pain in her back and general debility incident to her sex. She has taken one bottle of Brown's Iron Bitters, and I can truthfully say that she has been so much benefited that she pronounces it the only remedy of many medicines she has tried."

Leading physicians and clergymen use and recommend BROWN'S IRON BITTERS. It has cured others suffering as you are, and it will curc you.

»J*HE SATURDAY EVENING

MAIL,

TERKEHAUTE.INI).

A Paper for the People.

A MODEL HOME JOURNAL.

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BHIGIIT, CLEAN AND PUWK.

THE THIRTEENTH YEAR

The Mall hau a record of HucceHH Held attained by a WeHteru weekly paper. Twelve yeara of Increasing popularity proves Its worth. Encouraged by the extraordinary Buceem whicli ha« attended lUt publication the publisher ban perfected amuigonicntsby which for theoomlng year The Mnil will be more than ever welcome In the home circle# In thin day of'ranhy and impure lltemture It should be a pli-axure to all good people to help in extending the circulation of NUCIJ a paper aa the

8ATURDAY EVENING MAIL

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Publisher Haltirdny Evening Mail, TERKK HAUTE, IND.

MILLERS HOTEL,

No*. 87,89, A 41, West Twenty-Sixth Htreet,

SEW YOltK 111,

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A quiet, healthy location, convenient by stages, horse cars, a *'1 the elevated roads to all parts of the ci(y.

In thecenter of reiail w*4e,p1ac»sofamusementu, and the principal i.otelsand churches

PERMANENT OR TRANSIENT GUK8T8 RATJBK-HSQ

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to

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per week, according to *ixe and location of rooms. Special rates for famliea or by the year.

Tarkl«b,F/ectri«,snil Hom®n Hatha Connected with the hotel at rEduced rates to tr. E. F. nil KK, Proprietor.

C. H. HAYNEH. HNNLUEIW

Manager.

!RAM SIBLEY & CO.

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