Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 9, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 25 August 1883 — Page 3
E A I
A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.
A Song of the Out of Season. Tn valleys fraflrnnt with the brpnth of May J5Tbe heifer* scam jxr and the calfietK stray, /And loud-IuiiKcd frogs grunt evening rounds lay. From blonder sprays the tuneful thrush ia heard. The dappled meads with flowers are diapered, The soul of youth to summer suits Is stirred, The birds sing blither, skies wear fairer hues, But man, alas, no more sips oyster stews. The hills of heaven, the bights of morning bark, Trnnc»-1 by the carol nf the beaven-rolced lark The peeler won* the nursemaid in the park, The air IK full of ftutmner-slnglnjr motes, Tho Hnriein gleams with lightning-passing boats. And Khantyvillo bemoans her glut of goats. And sweet as young love is tho zephyr's flaw, But, wcll-a-day, where Is the oyster raw? Joy fills tho fibres of the budding tree, Wrapping Its limbs with vernal drapery, And Infant Summer ridos on Springtide's knee. The hf-rtrt of youth for cobblers inly yearns, When as the gracious season beats and burnt, The mwny Turean at his organ turns The fiilnt wind* sigh, a breath from Dreamland's coa# r. But mortal tooth devours not oyster roast. From bud and bough the bluebirds leap and call, Tho elm puts on Its leafy coronal. The New York's beat the Bostons at base ball. With love (ind longing earth and bky are great, 1 lie .«un smlies guyly from his shining state. Young lovers swing the beauty burdened gate, And breath soft whispers 'neatheve's gentle star: Butoyrtt/ rsshun mild May, the month without oo H.
WHEN FORTUNE FROWNED. But if you were to loose your fortune, Evelyn? There is nothing on earth more uncertain than riches, 'for they take to themselves wings and fly away and once bereft of fortune, do you believe that Arthur Darley would retain the hanie Hentimerits for you as now, when you are surrounded by all that wraith can furnish to make life pleasant?"
Evelyn Archer shrugged her graceful shoulders. "Hear me, Aunt Emma," she cried carelessly, "I do not pretend to say but 1 believe that Mr. Darley's regard for me is based upon something more substantial than my fortune." "1 trust so, Evie, returned Mrs. Harwood kindly. "Perhaps I am prejudiced ngaiust him, and besides, I do so wish that you could care for Lawrence I,yell."
Evelyn's f.-iir face grew crimson. She iient her head to remove a knot from the embroidery-silk with which she was assiduously embroidering searlet poppies upon a velvet cushion, and made no reply. ••lie is so noble and upright," continued her aunt, "and ••So poor!"' sneered Evelyn. "Yes. dear, ho is poor but with his talc '. in his profession, there is room for hn. to rise, and I believe he will.
There no doubt of his ultimate success. Evelyn, if Lawrence Lyell asks you to be his wife, are you going to refuse him?" "I have done so already. Aunt Emma." returned the girl coldly, "lie did me the honor to ask mo the momentous question last night at Mrs. Lee's reception, and I gavo him his con'/*•''
Mrs.
too
linrwood looked grave, but was
wise
to
strances.
venture any further remon
Just then the door-bell rang,
and Mr. Darley was announced. Evelyn, looking very pretty in her dress of grav silk, with pink roses in her golden hair, flitted downstairs to the drawing-room to receive him.
When
she
returned, a splendid dia
mond glittered upon tho forefinger of her left hand. "Yes. auntie," she cried iraily in response to her aunt's questioning glance "the die is east! I am betrotheclto Arthur Darley." "I pray (iod that you may never regret it,"'returned her aunt, as she kissed the girl tenderly.
Evelyn was an orphan, and Mrs. Ilarwood. her dead mother's only sister, was her truest friend.
They lived In the same ho i*"», And both were fortunate in possessing a large share of this world's goods and Mrs. llarwood, being childless widow, looked upou her niece as her own daughter.
Timo passed. Arthur Parley was ever at the side of his betrothed wifo but Lawrence Lyell, the handsome young lawyer, who had made an impression upon the hearts of one-half the youn ladies in the town, had disappears and no one seemed to know whither he had gone.
•I
One morning, when Evelvn came down to breakfast with her aunt in the cosy breakfast-room, she found Mrs. Ilarwood there before her, pale and anxious, with a telegram in her hand. She glanced up as Evelyn entered, and the piteous look on her white face went straight to the girl's heart. "Good Heavens, auntie!" she cried, springing forward, "what has happened?"
Mrs. Harwood pointed to the chair at her side. "Sit down, dear, and drink a little coffee," she said. "There, thatis right," as Evelyn obeyed her, and swallowed the contents of a tiny egg-shell cup. "Now listen. You are stronger, and can bear it better. Evie. we are ruined. Tho Bank has suspended, and you know the consequences to us."
Evelvn Archer's face grew slowlv pallid. Yes. she knew too well for all ner own fortune, as well as her aunt's was invested--in stocks and actual deposit —in thai institution. The house they lived in must be sold to pay debts whicn had carelessly allowed to accumulate, and nun stared them in the face.
We pass over the trying scenes which followed. Even jewels and wardrobe were sacrificed, and with the small sum of money left them after the catastrophe, Evelvn and Mrs. Harwood rented a •mall cottage, and applied for tnusio scholars for out of the general wreck Evelvn had managed to save her piano, that with it she might be able to earn enough to keep them from actual starvation.
All this time she had not bean! a word from her betrothed husband, though he was in town, and of coarse knew all that had occurred, and the fearful reverse which had come to the poor girl.
"v
So, stung by his nc^iwt. at last Evelyn wrote him a eoll note, and enclosing the en ragement-ring, told him that he was free.
He made no objection, offered Ub remonstrance. aud -••he knew him at last for the fortuae-huuter that he really was.
Did her thoughts ever revert to the man whom she hod rejected for the sake of Arthur Darley?
Yes, she thought of him constantly, and as the days went by she gradually grew to analyse her own
feelings,
and
to know at last that her heart had gone over into the keeping of Lawrence Lvell.
She knew not if he were living or dead. Time passed. Winter came—cruel, relentless winter—and Mrs. Harwood and her niece began to know the meaning of the dread word poverty.
One by one the music scholars dropped off, and one day the two women woke to the awful truth that they were destitute.
So Eyelyn sacrificed her grand piano, and on the proceeds they managed to struggle along for a time. Then Mrs. Harvood fell ill, and it seemed to Evelyn as though God had forgotten them.
She sought for work—any honest employment—sought early and late, heartsick, and almost longing to die.
One day she ascended the mafble steps of an elegant mansion, and ringing the bell, asked to see the mistress of the house. For she had determined to beg for assistance rather than see her aunt die.
The footman eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then, inviting her into the hall, went in quest of the lady.
A footfall on the marble floor made Evelyn glance up, and she saw coming towards her—could it be possible?— Lawrence Lyell.
All the blood forsook her face as he gazed upon her with incredulous wonder then he sprang forward and extended his hand. •'Miss Archer!" ho exclaimed, "this is indeed a surprise."
Before she could frame a reply the servant returned. "Mrs. Lyell says that she will see you," ho announced briefly. Evelyn's heart beat fast and furious, and then— sunk like a stone iti her breast.
Mrs. Lyell! Then of course he was married some heiress probably, for the house was superb. Married—and God help her! she loved him with all her heart. In that moment of suffering Evelyn Archer realised the meaning of the word retribution.
She stood unable to speak then. Mr. Lyell led her into a pretty rose-colored boudoir, he held her hands fast in his, and gazed tendeily into her face. "Evelyn!" he cried, "what is wrong? I have just returned from the country, where I have made mv home. I am with my brother and his wife, this is their house, and—oh, Evelyn, my darling!"
For she had burst into a flood of tears, with her head upon his shoulder. So it all came out ri^ht after all. Of course Fvelyn married Lawrence Lyell, and they took Mrs. Harwood to their elegant home for Lawrence had inheiited a large fortune, and was more wealthy now than Evelyn herself had ever been.
Among Storm Clouds.
The writer was one of a half dozen persons who took refuge one Sunday evening in a little observatory on Lookout ^lountain Point during a fearful storm. Entranced with the scenery east of tho mountain, and part of the timo shut off by the wooded summit from a glance at the west, a hideous storm cloud had gathered unobserved by us, and was rushing its frightful proportions toward our place of refuge. It was rolling on with awful rapidity. We could not retrace our footsteps and escape. Our only hope for shelter was in the observatory. We entered. Just think of it! Six porsons seeking safety from a storm in a small 16x20 frame house which stands right on the verge of a precipice 200 feet high. Oh, Heaven! how I shuddered and shrunk down with horror when I glanced at the coming tornado through one window, then crossed the room to another and looked down, down, through the tops of trees to the foot of that mighty precipice and contemplated being overturned by the raging elements.
Thunder pealed terrific blast after blast, until the hugh rocks beneath us seemed to quiver at the grating sound. In another moment the cloud swept over the mountain beyond and the valley beneath, then around the brow of Lookout, below our refuge, like a vast unpent ocean. The forests bowed before it. The rumbling, crashing, waring din sounded like an avalanche of worlds. For awhile we were literally above the storm, but the clouds at length gushed around the observatory, tilling our room full of dense vapors through' a broken window, and death to our entire party seemed inevitable. The wind howled alout us and lashed our frail refuge with brush, huge limbs, sticks and other things which it hurled up from the west stde of the mountain. Gale after gale struck the building-, and harder and harder each dashed, until the creaking timbers seemed to portend our early pl unging, house and all, two thousand feet down through the mighty, convulsed ocean of cloud and air.
The fierce, raging storm gradually ceased, and just at sunset, though the rain still poured, we started down to the city. For a half mile along the mountain top we drove through clouds which seemed to us to be fairly melting into sheets of water.—A Woman
A young lady in St Louis became dissatisfied with her beautiful natural teeth because they were not just accor ding to the latest fancy in teeth. She had a dentist take the upper ones oat and make her a set Her sweetheart was getting a set also, and the dentist gave him the natural ones he had taken from the Jaws of his lady-lovp. They both thought it was an awfully cute thing. Swell people usually order their teeth made with some defect or a gold plog or two In them.
A Boy Who Would Stutter if he did not Whistle, A recent addition to the Newsboys' Home, Philadelphia, is a bright-looking lad who hails from Syracuse, N. Y., and glories in the name of ael Connelly. Michael is probably amor she most remarkable whistlers of t..e "ge. He whistles every time he open .-as mouth to speak, and frequently is compelled to whistle after every word he utters. "It just seems like Id bust if I don't whistle," he remarked to a reporter yesterday afternoon, and he whistled no less than fonr times in saying it. The lad is a professional itinerant bootblack. He was taught to whistle as a cure for a most aggravating case of stuttering. So violent were the attacks that Michael would be thrown into convulsions when he attempted to speak and he declared that several times he was nearly stran-
gine
led to death in making efforts to talk, day two years ago a friendly customer suggested that he should whistle before he attempted to speak and see how far that would relieve him. The boy tried the whistling cure, and the effect was so gratifying and afforded such relief that he adopted the practice and continued it until it became a habit. His stuttering has almost entirely disappeared, but the result has been that he cannot begin to frame a sentence until he eas Relieved himself by a soft, low whistle, which is repeated every few seconds. If he says "Thank you sir," ho whistles three times, once before, once in the middle and once at the end of the sentence.—Philadelphia Record*
Yankee Enterprise.
Some very singular advertisements appear from time to time in the newsOne of the most curious has
lately been observed in a Paris paper, where a certain "Yankee Engineer" thus addressed all "whom it may concern": "Having visited the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy, I am fully convinced that the architectural grandeur and beauty of this ancient ana colossal relic of past ages can be wonderfully improved. I hereby offer to contract to put this immense structure in a perpendicular position and raise it to a level of the ground for the sum of $600,000, the terms of payment and time of completion to be agreed upon, the time not to exceed ninety days." There is something truly American in the matter-of-fact way in which this audacious proposition is advanced. If now, as might readily happen if the idea occurred to him, some Yankee patent-medicine manufacturer should come forward and offer to defray the expenses of this gigantic work on condition that he be permitted to paint advertisements of his particular panacea all over the outside and interior of this tower, the glory of the great American eagle would be enhanced. In fact, if the Europeans were only in any degree "up to snuff" they might have all their scandalouslyneglected ruins put into complete repair on similar easy terms.
Cost of the Channel Tunnel. The probable cost of a Channel tunnel has always been a very obscure question, and Sir Edward Watkin has hitherto been very silent about it Yesterday he felt hiirtself in a position to give some figures on this particularly important point. He is makitig a tunnel, somewhere or other, through one of the hardest stratified rocks ne knew. This cost £88 a }Tard, and that means roughly £65,000 a mile. The channel tunnel would be about twenty-four miles. Instead of taking the cost at £65,000 a mile, let them assume that it would be £100,000 a mile,-and that would represent a cost of £2,400,000 for the tunnel under the sea. That is his estimate of the cost of the actual tun-, nel. Next, he believed the estimate of £350,000 for the tunnel to connect the Chatham and Dover and the Southeastern railways would not be exceeded. The entire cost of the work, therefore, came to only £8,000,000. With an original outlay of this modest kind Sir Edward was no doubt justified in describing the project as likely to be one of the most profitable ever undertaken —if profitableness were the only thing to be considered. But then, this modest estimate nothing is included for the cost of fortifications at the English end of the tunnel, every penny of wliich should fall upon those wno have made them necessary.—Pall Mall Gazette.
Making those Things We Strike at and Don't Hit The iron is received from the rolling mills in sheets from three inches to twelve inches wide, and from three feet to nine feet in length, the thickness varying, according to the kind of work into which it is to be made, from oneeighth to one-thirty-second of an inch. These sheets are ail cut in about thirty inch pieces, and by immersion in acid cleaned off the hard outside flinty scale. They are then chopped into strips of a width corresponding to the length of the nail or tack Required. Supposing the tack to be cut is an eight-ounce carpet tack, the strip of iron, as chopped and ready for the machine, would be almost eleven-sixteenths of an inch wide and thirty inches long. This piece is placed firmly in the feeling apparatus, and by this arrangement carried between the knives of the machine.
At each revolution of the balance wheel the knives cut off a small piece from the end of this plate. The piece out off is pointed at one end, and square for forming the bead atthe other. It is then carried between two dies by the action of the knives, and the dies, coming together, form the body of the tack under the head. Enough of the iron rojects beyond the face of the dies to rm the head, and while held firmly by them, a lever strikes this projecting
Eare
iece into a round bead. This, as we said before, is all done during one revolution of the wheel, and the knives, as soon as the tack drops from the machine, are ready to cut off another piece.
These machines are run at the rate of about 250 revolutions per urinate. Hie shoe nail machines, for cotting headless shoe nails, are ran at about 600 revolutions per minute, and cat from three to five nails at each revolution.—Mechanical Engineer.:^
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$•£* J* S'^L.IZa&X. a t*» »*!#*-, ij^M' ••',*
TEKRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL ^Ssr?syi tit -Sfr
1
V- 'A,I
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A WONDERFUL DREAM,
An Incident in Real Life Discounts Fiction, "J tsif '•One of the most remarkable occurrences I ever heard of was related to me this morning," remarked a State street broker yesterday. "I have heard of a good many wonderful dreams, but this has some features abont it. which border on the marvelous." "What is the story?" queried another Droker, whose business was apparently dull enough to allow plenty of time to study the miraculous, since he had almost forgotten how to buy and sell. "Well,
replied the first speaker, "I
was told to-day by a leading City Hall official, whose trustworthiness is undoubted, that a daughter of the late Harvey Jewell (who was so well and favorably known in Boston in legal and business circles, and was a brother of the late Marshall Jewell) had recently a very queer and unusual experience, and one calculated to make a deep impression upon the strongest mind. Some weeks ago she had a dream in which she distinctly saw an undertaker drive up to her residence with a hearse. He was a peculiar looking man. His queerly shaped nose, which looked as if it had been broken and was twisted to one side, gave his countenance an expression which would have made identification easy and certain. He came directly towards her, and, as he said: 'Are you all ready?1 she suddenly awoke. "The dream seemed a peculiar one, but did not attract very much attention in the household until, a few days or a week later, it was repeated with exactly the same characteristics, down to the 'Are you all ready P' and the awakening. "And now comes the strangest part of the story. Some little time afterwards the young lady was visiting in Cincinnati, and went to an apartment hotel to call upon a friend. She stepped into an elevator with others, and was startled to hear: 'Are you all ready from the man in charge. She was still more startled on looking around and beholding the exact picture of the man of the dream, even to the misshapen nose. It made sueh an impression upon her mind that she requested to be let out of the elevator at the first landing. She stepped out, and the other occupants went out at the next landing, and the man remained. The elevator machinery gave out, suddenly the car went up, and then down, and the man was instantly killed. "You have all heard of the warnings of dreams. All I can say is this is the first well-authenticated case I have ever known, and if it does not border on the supernatural I do not know what does. It was a good way to restore one's peace ot mind, but a most remarkable sequel." "Send it to the Globe," said a listener "it may bring out many somewhat similar cases from among the thousands who read that popular paper."—Boston Globe.
How a Woman Usss a Hammer. The Boston Herald is responsible for the following description of the way a woman wields a hammer:
She wants to hang a picture on the wall. She gets a nail, a hammer, and a tall chair to stand upon, and calmly surveys the situation.
Then she measures distance and scratches a spot, always an inch too high or too low, and paepares for action.
She takes the nail in the left hand and the hammer in the right, and gently taps, like the drum accompaniment of a musical box.
Then she lays herself out for a big blow, raises her arm and strikes, and yells like a captured Comanche maiden on the boundless prairie.
She goes about the rest of the morning with her thumb done up in a breadpoultice. Yet she never learns from experience.
The next time she wants to drive a nail in anything she will hit it exactly In the sameplacs.^ *'5
The Use and Abtuse of Bathing, Dr. Dudley A. Sargent, medical director of the Union gymnasium, gave the fourth in his talks on physical training at the Union hall last week, taking for his subject, "Bathing Its Uses ana Abuses." He gave general rales for bathing as follows: "A warm bath with liberal use of castile soap, is beet for cleanliness, and night the best time. Twice a week is often enough. Too fre[uent warm baths debilitate the system. cool sponge or wet cloth bath should be taken daily for its tonic effect and always in a warm room. If strong and vigorous, the best time is in the morning if not strong, the cold bath had better be omitted, and the tepid substituted. After exercise, if greatly fatigued, take no bath, bnt rub down vigorously with a dry towel. If thoroughly warmed up, but not tired, take a tepid sponge bath standing. Never take a tub bath except when bathing for cleanliness. A warm shower bath followed by a cool sprinkling is preferable to a cold bath after igoj uo those sh&uld be reserved for medical cases. Skin disorders are frequently caused by excessive bathing and the use of too much soap. Although general rules for bathing could be given, every man must be guided by his own physical condition and his occupation."—Boston Advertiser.
exercise. Vigorous exercise renders Turkish and hot baths unnecessary
Tacks are made at the rate of 1,000 a minute. That's the reason there are so many of them around on the floor of a bedroom when a married man gets np to
hunt for the paragoric bottle,,
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