Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 10, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 September 1883 — Page 8

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THE MAIL

v^|,

PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE

Her Mother's Sin

___ &

8hould

and

Continued front Sixth Page. "There is nothing wrong, dear children he said, kissing first one fair young face, then the other. "I am not t| ill but I have something to say which distresses me, because it causes me to 1 notice more distinctly than ever the fact that my sons are dead. Will you givo me your attention for a few moments

Lady Ryeford, take this chair. Daphne, stand by me—Irene, too, dear child. I •hall feel stronger and better with one of you on either side of me. 1 have something very important to say to you," he went on. "Perhaps it would have been better had it been said before but 1 have been something of a coward and have ahruuk from it. Has it ever occurred to either of you why I asked you here "Because you wanted to befriend us," replied Irene. "Because you wanted to know more of «s," answered Daphne. "Both reasons are quite correct," said the earl, smiling "but there was another, an all-important one. Can you not guess what It was

Be did not notice how deathly pale Lady Ryeford's face had grown. "I am most stupid at guessing," sad Irene. ... "When I am asked to guess anything, my head is in a whirl," confessed

^tJfjeaven

bJeM

bem both thought

the earl. I was a source of genuine delight to him to think that no mercenary idea had entered the mind of either.

The one thing that shoud be dear to The one thing that shoud be dear to „rew.

nthnrwUe. As vou well

know, my sous—whom

"Had my sons lived,

earl, "the elder

same time Earl of Cradoc and Baron

Hyde. At first I was too stunned to grasp what the death of ray boys enwiled but Mr. Rigbv broug senses, and I realized that I must look out for a successor. It is strange, yet true, that, so far as we can ascertaiu, I have no male relatives. Our family, which was once a numerous one. has for many generations diminished. The only relatives I have in the world are your46lV68«^

The earl paused again from emotion, while the girls were well-nigh awestricken and Lady Ryeford's suspense beoame almost intolerable. "The honor of the name and of the family rests entirely In your hands," pursued the earl. "The*® areyet one or «Wo matters which I have omitted to explain —first, that when the succession falls to a woman, neither a wiUow nor atnarried woman can succeed, and, secondly, that when (he heiress marries, her husband must, by letters patent, adopt her name, I have looked carefully through the family annals, and am quite sure of my facta. You assembled here with me are the only living relatives that I possess."

Lady Ryeford drew a long breath. How would it all end "I ueed scarcely add, therofore," continued the earl, "that from you I must thoose my successor."

The two young girls gazed In amazement at their host. "I may tell you the whole truth now," he went ou. "Mr. Rigby helped me iudeed it was he who found out where you lived and all about you. Then I finallv asked you both here, that I might, with the help of others, decide as to the sue session to Poole."

The girls gazed blankly at each other Lord Cradoc turned to LdSy Ryeford. "You, Lady Ry^fyfd," he said, "had you remained KtenofHyde,1 would have undoubtedly been Count&s of Cradoc. As a widow you are not eligible. There remain only these two young girls, of whom one must'succeed to the title and estates. Having state tinned, "that I asked you Irene, to visit me in order that myfrianar

frinkly," he con you, Daphne, and in order that my

self, my sister-in-law, and my friends might have the opportunity of judging which we considered would make the better mistress for Poole, I think it only right to tell vouH-r-wlth a slight on his grave face—'Uhat we have not come to any decisaion. As regards personal charms aud attractions, it would be impossible to award the palm to either. Of those, however, there is no question. In the choice we have to make, beauty, grace, amiability must not influence us. We must obooae her who will make the best mistress for Poole, who appears to have the greatest capacity for managing «n estate."'

There was a murmur of assent. "I have no fear," pursued the earl, •"that there will be any jealousy, and bitterness of spirit between my two dear •children here. Hie interest of the race, the honor of the family' must be considered everything else Is secondary to that. Which of you will succeed me I •cannot yet say. but I pray Heaven to guide us all right." "And I," said Daphne fervently. "I have no fear,'* said Irene. "I do not know," added the earl, "that I have much more to say but I should like It to be clearly understood that there can be no division of the property. My sister-in-law, Lady Marcla Hyde, fcas a pretty little estate called Islam which have

"Now go, my dear ladies," said the earl. "Leave me quite alone. This is as much as I can bear."

So they obeyed him. The girls walked away together. They were loving friends by now, and exchanged ideas freely. Daphne was the first to speak. "This is strange news," she said. "I never dreamed of it did you "No it is the last thing I should have thought of," Irene replied, "the very last." "How some girls would hate each other in your place!" laughed Daphne. "What rivals we are! You ought to be Countess of Cradoc, Irene you are 'to the manner born.' I am at home only among flowers and pictures." "You would make quite as good a mistress for Poole as I should," declared Irene.

After a time, Daphne placed her arm around her companion's neck. "Irene," she said, would you like to be Countess of Cradoc

The elder girl was silent for a brief space. then she answeied promptly: "Yes. Ithink I should. It would give me such splendid scope." "Yes, but grave responsibility," said Daphne. "Should you like to be a great lady, DapLne asked Miss Ryeford and the dark beautiful face smiled In the fair one. "Yes, indeed I should. It would seem as If some good fairy had Interposed in my behalf." "Well, we shall never quarrel, whichever way it is," said Miss Ryeford. "No, we will be loyal to each other," responded Daphne. "The choice rests entirely with others, and we cannot help what others think of us. One thing I am convinced of you have more com-mon-sense, greater business capacity than I have. If you are chosen, there will be not one bitter thought in my heart against you and, if I am chosen, I feel you will love me just the same." "I am sure I shall," said Irene. "How strange it all seems!" she mused.

the head of a house is its honor, the pre- fover what would Arran say when he •ervation of its glory-

And the girl's beautiful passionate face j.. —l»u kto har^iatant

tender with thoughts of her distant

thought, heard of this Would It widen the dis-

blindness, that with J™*1tance between them, or would it bridge be well but it has pleased Heaven that

over

That to her was the all im-

°V

As you well

nuMt

ion.

her mother approached the scene.

ly—"I must obooae a J™ She smTled'sweeVly at Daphne. know perhaps the rule of succession in what a strange experience!" she said. the Cradoc family in any 1 ««we were hardly prepared for it. Irene, plain it. If there are no male heirs,both

waQt

title and estates can descend to a worn- room.'*^ an—always provided that that woman is ^nj0

Lady Ryeford grew even paler and My darling child," She began, more anxious.

gpeak to you at once come to

iQ her mot

near of kin." how extreme was her state of nervous Lord Cradoc paused for a few moments.

want to

ll?®

one,

Lord Hyde, would _t

of course have succeeded me, and Bertie Trene did as she was told. would have had West

Ijynn«

*jad

faa(

but one son, he would have been at the

ber'8 room, Irene saw

take counsel with you. Close

the door lock it that we may not be in-

gUeased it, Irene!" Lady Rye-

j«*&n a tone of Dassionate excue-

in atone of passionate ex

Ioru

ment. "I never said one word to anybody but I had guessed it and you will be choseu. I am sure of It." "I do not see how you can be sure, mamma. The earl himself has evidently made no choice." "The matter lies in your own hands, Irene I am certain of it. When you spoke as you did about the cottages, I was bitterly grieved now I see that it was the best thing you could have done." "Bat mamma,'' cried the girl indignantly, "you know perfectly well that wheh'l spoke about the cottages I had no Idea of the prefeeut state of affairs." "It was all for the best, my dear," said her ladyship hurriedly. "It was a great risk but you could nave done nothing better. Mr. Rigby and the earl was very much struck. If you will only play your cards well, yon will win. I am sure yoii will win—and the bare idea drives me almost frantic. What would your father have said had he known that you would one day be Countess of Cradoc?"

ppf

No light came into the dark eyes.

|fgf

"Mamma," said the girl, "you must understand me. Our natures are widely different, but you must understand me. I have no cards to play, as you phrase it. The earl shall not be blasted In his decision by me. If by the raising of my finger I could influence him in his choice, I would not raise it." "Blind and foolish girl!" cried Lady Ryeford. "The world lies at your feet a fortune is thrown to you, and you will not extend those proud hands of yours to take it. Ah, foolish girl, how you will repent this!" •'But of "playing her cards well" Lady Ryeford never spoke to her daughter again. [TO BR CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.]

Weighed in the Balance

Solomon Speed was a builder by occupation, a hard-working, calculating, saving man, who had come to Belmont when the town was new, attracted thither by promise of much occupation in the line of his calling. He was a good tuechaulc, a very fair architect, competent to superintend the erection of any ordinary building, and able to do much of the better class of work with his own hands. He was also a shrewd man. When he had thoroughly inspected the town and its surroundings, he saw that its possibilities were great, and all the money he could raise and all the credit he cared to ask were invested in land. And he did not mistake. He tived to see land that be had bought at the rate of $50 per acre sold for fl per square foot. He built fo- himself a large and comfortable dwelling in the new town, feeling well assured that he was settled down for the remainder of his life.

Solomon Speed had three childrenthree sons—Nathan, Thomas, and Peter, aged respectively 18, 10, and 4. This four-year-old son was the child of a second wife, married after Mr. Speed had built bis sew house in Belmont: and we may say here that the two elder sons were never quite reconciled to their father's secoud marriage. They had inherited all his ahrewdness.and, having seen that wealth was likely to flow In upon their father, they did not take kindly to the idea of an increase in the number of his heirs. The step-mother dared nor

NBwiuNiw. nuxnoer ox ois ueiro* lwvwpiuii a pretty little estate called Islam, yey

:h. nad my son Bertie lived, would

nave been his. What her intentions

never

not

this estate of Poole—which la a very and kneee, and anon to stand large one, embracing half the town of

Abbey Dale—Aldburv Hall, and a man-

ready money and quite a fortune in the fiunily jewels." like a story from the 'Arabian ^fights,' remarked Daphne.

ray of 1 "It Is

But Irene could find no words. "Now our council Is (aided," said the earl, with a grave smile. "It is rather a

tbtobowaotM.

ill-treated—that they di

upon

After

jo—but they never liked her,

were

now are with regard to that I cannot utile Peter had become large enough and MV. The Cradoc Inheritance comprises

they heartily kind to her. Alter

atroDg

enough to creep around on bis

h}s feet, the two brothers, large

an(

hi on in town called Aldbury House. him, jtnd would pick him up when he There are also a large accumulation of feut they never kissed him tbey never gave him brotherly love.

strong, sodtetimes spoke pleasantly

But the child waa not without a playmate of his own sex. In the family, adopted by Solomon Speed, was a boy named Robert Ash worth, a son and only child of hto—StoeedV-only sister. His father had died when Robert was an Inhis mother had survived her but a few years. On her deathbed she had called her brother to her

nea u» oe wouiu uu w/. iwm

een hitherto." that time & vears old, just the age of The girls steed at each OUMT, each on® Thomas, and from that urae he had been wondering in be* heart which would be

Sr.-

ae of the family, enjoying all the ad-

ones who loved him and contributed to his happpiness. At the age of 16 Robert concluded that he had been a burden upon his nncle long enough, and he suggested that it might be well for him to go out into the world and seek his own fortune. Uncle Solomon thought the same: and Nathan and Thomas Doth coincided and the uncle, stipulating that the boy should never trouble him more—should never appeal to him for money—offered to give him flOO in monev. The lad had thought his uncle would give him something, put this conditon aroused his indlgnau&n, and he would not take a penny. He had 10 saved In two years, and he would make that answer. Mrs. Speed, who was becoming thin and pale and weak, wept with bitter grief as she held his hand for the last time, and from little Peter he was forced to tear himself away.

Time passed on. Mrs. Speed received two letters from Robert—one written at Louis and the other away out toward the Rocky Mountains. She answered them both. In the last she confessed that she was very weak, with little hope of life remaining. At the end of a year and a half he wrote his third letter, from the Pacific coast, bidding her that she should direct her answer to San Francisco. He was going away to the mountains beyond Sonora, but a friend in San Francisco would forward it to him. Another year passed, at the end of which time his last letter to Mrs. Speed was returned to him. She was dead, and tl\e wanderer wrote no more letters to his old home.

And still the years sped on, Robert Ashworth, in tne way of money-making was fortunate. A strong, healthful, honorable man, dealing justly with all, and respecting the rights of all he came In contact, he made frleuds wherever he went, and made no enemies. Early in his mountain experience he struck a prolific mine, and bought it. When he erected his shanty on his land there was not another human habitation within fifteen miles of him. At the end of

twenty years,

could

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

vantages of life and education that his Arrived at Belmont—and the steamtwo cousins enjoyed. But with the cars took him to the very center of the dawning of better times—as the pros- town—he found the place wonderfully pect of wealth opened upon the family— grown. Where he had left green fields the aspect of Robert's situation changed and tangled hedges, were now broad somewhat. As Solomon Speed began to streets, flanked with stores and dwellgaln more money than he could spend, ings* In short, the place had grown to he became more and more inclined to full six times its size five-and-thirty save and he came, in time, to look upon years before. At the smallest and his sister's child as a burden which he est public house be stopped and oi ought not to bear. And the same feel- supper and, while it was being pre ings found life in the bosoms of Nathan pared, he asked after the Speeds. Did and Thomas. As their prospects grew any one present know them? Yes, a brighter and brighter they began to man was sitting there in the bar-room cherish the fear that they would be who had formerly worked for them, called upon, in some way, to share with Saidhe: Robert, tbeir "pauper cousinas they

Ten years more had passed when Robert Ashwortn—now a strong, rugged, brown-face, full-bearded man of 28—met a man who had come from Belmont within a year. From this man he learned that Solomon Speed was dead, and that the two older sons were carrying on the business. They were both married, and had families, and were looked upon as being very wealthy. At all events, they were proud and ansto-

Five years more, Robert again heard from the old home—this time meeting with a man whom he had known in the days of his boyhood. 5?athan and Thomas Speed were still flourishing, their business being simply the looking after their real estate and personal property, and in spreading the glitter of their wealth before the world. Their half-brother, Peter, had grown to be a mati of one-and-twenty, and was hard at work in one of the miliar belonging to them. By some sort of hocus pocus he bad been left poor at his father's death dependent entirely upon his elder brothers. Robert's informant could not fully explain but he believed that old Solomon, by his will, had left everything to Nathan and Thomas, making them joint guardians to Peter, the boy at that time having only been nine years of ago.

spei Hie is heart

ciety in which be calm evening of his days. turned longingly baok upon the old home. In Si the years of his wander

Government bonds had then come Into the market, and had already reached a premium. His first movement, on reaching San Francisco, was to lock fS,000,000 safely up in registered bonds. The money was deposited with the SubTreasurer there, with orders that the bonds should be sent to his address at New York. After paying for the bonds he had left between |100,000 and $200,000 In gold, of which be reserved sufficient to pay his expenses on the road, placing the rest in banks, and taking a draft on New York in change, which draft for security's sake be gave into the hands of a reliable express company. And it was well that be did so, for between the

Great

Salt Lake and Cheyenne his pockets were picked cf every dollar he had with him. Arriving in New York, Robert first looked after hisJ»nds and his draft. The bonds were safe and waiting his call, while the draft arrived on the very day of his own arrival, having come on the same train.

And now for his visit to Belmont. If he could not find a loving heart there, then be knew not where to look. But if he was to find true love it must not be known that he waa wealthy. No, the love his heart yearned for was a pure, loyal love for poor Bobby Ashworth, just as he was when he set forth to seek his fortuns, So he went to aclcthing More where secood-Mnd garments were sold and purchased a full salt as sadly worn aud farfed as he could feel comfortable in, clad in wi trial trip.

Well, stranger, it would be ve

had called him more than once. difficult to tell you just how tboy stan_. Robert Ashworth loved the bright- If you could take 'em for what they eved, flaxen-haired child, and never think of themselves, they'd be two of tired of carrying him in his arms and the biggest men In oreatlon. That's with him in all sorts of ways. Nathan and Thomas. About a score of pi&vinit witn mm iii on oviw wajo, In factT the time came—it had come at years ago they got to feelin' above work the time at which we open the story— and took to playin'the big bug entirely. iuti. kin mnihtir noM Thfiv lftt (int. f.ho mills ann wnnt to livin' when little Peter and his mother w"ere They let out the mills, an the poor cousin's only friends—the only on the interest of their

went to livin money and its

uu vuo iui«rwii UL tuur uivuujr auu iu my opinion 'at they've come to dinpin pretty deep into their prinaipal. Howsum ever they're proud enougn." "And Peter Speed—what has become of him "O, he is here, the same working', unfort'nit man

hard-

poor,, he always

was. He did, one spell, drink a leetle too much but he finally married a woman that made a saved man of him." "But didn't his father leave him anything?" "Not outright. The old man, somehow, got set against the boy—thought he was wild ana frolicsome, and unsafe to be trusted with money so he left him in care of his two elder brothers." "Well," pursued Robert, "and what have they done for him "Really, stranger, I don't like to sa "Really, stranger, I don't like to say anything against them two men but if the truth wus told I think it would come out 'at they mea to have the whole pro

come out 'at they meant, from the first, property in their own bands. For a time tney refused to let the poor fellow have money on the plea that he would drink it all up, and then, when be fell in love with Kitty Moore, they told him if he married ner they

would cast him off forever. You see, Kitty, bless her sweet face! aye, and bless her noble heart, too! Kitty was a poor girl—an orphan—workln' in one of the mills and the blg-feelln' men thought It would be a stain upon them If their brother should marry her. Howsumever, Peter took his own way. He married the dear girl, and he's the father of five as pretty children as yon ever set eyes on, ana as happy as can be, notwithstandin' he has to dig pretty hard to keep the wolf from the door."

It was just In the edge of the evening —a chill autumnal evening—that the door-bell was rung at the aristocratic residence of the Hon. Nathan Speed, and shortly afterward a servant announced that a man wished to speak to the master.

Nathan Speed had grown to be a man of four-ana-fifty, red faced and obese, dressed in a satin house-robe, pride 8tamped in every feature. His wife sit ting near by was the same. Her face betrayed the use of the wine-cup, while the sparkle of many diamonds told where much of her husband's money had gone.

What a sight for the proud man to meet in his own front ball! A stout, broad-shouldered man, brown-visaged and full-bearded, habited in a povertystriken garb, and evidently very poor. "Nathan don't you know me?—your cousin Robert? Ah, I've had hard lutik on the road. Bevoud Choyenne I was robbed of every dollar I had with me, and-r— "Hifldon!" The proud manralaed his hand? He wanted to hear nfo more. He knew of no claims which his cousin could have on him. And further: "You promised your uncle you would taver again apply for help." ..... "Have I asked for help?"

"No but it was coming." "No. Nathan, you mist ask a friend." "Then you'd better go and hunt up your cousin Peter. He would make a boon companion for you. I doubt not."

ls take. I only

Robert got away as quick as possible, resolved next to call upon his cousin Thomas.

He found Thomas at home, and Clearly under the influence of wine—not intoxi-

still living upon the same cated, but his blood unduly heated

soot where he had first erected his sim- thereby. ale cabin of logs and clay and birch- And Thomas was even more harsh oark thatchiug, he was father of a town and unkind than Nathan

of 4,000 inhabitants—its mayor and its h«, too, tauntingly advised 'the poor chief man in every way. wanderer to go and seek his cousin Five-and-thirty years had now elapsed Peter, as one who would be fitting since Robert Ashworth left the Eastern companion for him. home to seek his fortune, and the fickle And to Peter Speeds poor cottage damelhad never in all that time, played Robert made his way. Not even a poor him false. Only, he had found no so- roof to cover his head had the wealthy t-_.ii ~t— to their halt brother.

chad

been, and

brothers given The cottage, really belonging to Nathan, was hired of an agent and more than once the poor man bad come very near

Dome. 4 .11 UU VUC jrwiio VI UIO VUW VMV fvva ings he had seen no woman whom he being turned out for non-payment of

love well enough to make her his rent. wife and he prayed that he might yet find "What!" cried Peter, when thewava faithful bosom upon-which he could farer had made, himself known.. Is it rest his weary head in trustful confideDce Bobby? Don't deceive me. Come in and love. So be offered all his Dorado where it is light." And he led the neworonertv for sale and though people were comer into the little kitchen, where the 1 t_2 «*Af annnap fithlfl with tt)6 r6Ql&iD8 Of upon It. By the lamp-

When "all his business had been settled light Robert saw a womanr-tnesweetest-and the balance-sheet brought to him by faced woman, he thought, he had ever bis private secretary for inspection, he seen—standing near the tablet and near was truly surprised. At first he could by—two of them at the table, two sitting not believe It. He had known that bis by the stove, while one »nng to its oronertv was extensive and valuable 1 mother's dress—were five children, toe

and bad| known also that his bank account was large, seeing that he owned the bulk of the bank himself but when he looked at the foot ot the column of totals, and saw the sum total of all—saw it running away into the millions—over three millions—when he was assured that he read aright, and that the figure* did not lie, he was astonished.

W" oldest not more than twelve. "Ah! 1 know you I Yes, I can .see the dear old face, notwithstanding the years, and the brown tan, and the beard.

Robert, old fellow 1 bless your dear, true heart! how are you

Tbey shook hands, a few more words, and then Peter exclaimed: "O Kitty! in all the days of my early childhood, saving only my sainted mother, this was the only true and loving friend I had—my cousin Robert. I was but a wee bit of an urchin when he went away, but I can remember hqw mv arms frojto his

mother had to tear neck, as though it had

R&tty

A few more words, and then Peter bethought himself that bis cousin might be hungry. Bnt no. He had eaten a hearty supper just before dark. "I eat at the little tavern at the lower end of the village, and shall spend the night there." "Spend—the night—them! Yon will, eh? How's that, Kitty?" "I think we can make him comfortable," the wife said. "Well, I think so, too, Robert."

By and by, after three of the children —the youngest—bad been kissed all arouiad and put" the little fouraf*»r th#" elder when they toft?

Obert"

forth Mibia- after this, said I Ijearty, e«-handed w»^t V...* JL.

and, by

"Say, old fellow, I suppose you have come home somewhat under the weather, eh

Robert told him that be had left San Francisco with between $200 and $300 in his pocket, but he had been robbed between Great Salt Lake and Cheyenne of every dollar of it. "I went to sleep in the car," he explained, "at night, and must have been chloroformed on top of that." "Well, well," cried Peter, giving him a friendly pat on the knee, and speaking from the heart, "don't you worry. Thank God, you have health and strength. We'll fix you up a good comfortable shake-down here, old fellow, and we'll look around and see what can be done. I wish you could find work here and live with us. You shan't pay a penny more than it costs us. Anyhow, here's your home for now, Robert."

Robert said he would think of it. And he told the story of his visit to the mansions of Nathan and Thomas. Peter's brow contracted and his face grew dark. He said but little. "For my Kitty's sake," he whispered, "I never peak the names of those men when I can avoid it."

It was very near the hour of midnight when the trio began to think of bed. As they arose from their seats Robert took a hand of Peter's and one of Kitty's, and so held them while he spoke. His voice was tremulous, and his eyes were brimming. "Peter!—Kitty!—True hearts— I don't

would put my three cousins into the balance and weigh tbem. I have done it, and you know the result. I told you I was robbed on the road. So I was but I bad taken the precaution to send my fortune on ahead of me so I only lost the trifle I had reserved for expenses on my journey. "Dear hearts! When I came to reckon up my possessions, six months ago, and found myself the owner of more money than I could ever spend, I felt the need of the one thing that was not mine—a true heart to love—a heart to love me in return—and somebody to help me enjoy my wealth. There! Now to bed, and On the morrow we will consider. One thing my dear Peter—your days of digging and delving are past and gone. Kitty-"

He drew her gently toward him, and she kissed him—a sweet, sisterly kiss, warmed with dewy eyes, and a loving Smile, but she could not speak.

On the following morning Robert learned for the first time that the graad residences of Nathan and Thomas Speed were for sale. They had reached the end of their financial^means, and wished to •ell out and leave the place.

Then Robert sat down, with Peter and Kitty, and frankly gave them a statement of his wealth. At first Peter could hardly believe that he had heard aright: while, as for Kitty, she could not comprehend the vastness of the sum but they finally knew this: They were to

Robert's chosen companions then eebe forth to fear the wolf—they and their little ones—no more forever.

Robert went to New York, where he engaged an agent—who was to work In his own name—to come to Belmont and purchase every piece of property that the Speed Brothers had to sell.

There was great wonderment when It was known that a stranger had purchased all the Speed property and that wonderment was Increased tenfold when a week later it became known that- Robert Ashworth was the purchaser, and that the palatial reslden'ce of Nathan Speed haa been deeded to his halfbrother, Peter.

Aye, and more still to Peter Speed and to Peter's wife and children, had been duly maue over all the mills, and houses, and lands, clear of all incumberance, formerly belonging to the brothers aforesaid.

But who shall tell the feelings of Nathan and Thomas when It came to them that the poor way farer—the brownfaced cousin—whom they had so harshly turned from their doors, was the "power behind the throne" that furnished all the money? O! the torture of their vain regret and deep chagrin was terrible. But that was not the worst. The worst came when Nathan's wife was brought to the need of applying to cousin Robert for help.

The crowning joy was yet to come—a joy of which Robert Ashworth had often dreamed, but which he had never dared to promise himself. After Peter and Kitty bad moved into the great house, Kitty's sister Mary came to visit them. Polly was the name by which she was always called. She was two years older than her sister, possessing the same sweet face, and loving honest heart. Robert fell desperately In love at sight, and she very soon loved him in return. When she came to wind her arms around his neck, and nestle fondly and confidingly upon his bosom, he knew that it was himself she loved and his cup of joy wfts full to the brim.

J08H BILLINGS HEARD FROM. Newport, R. L, Aug. 11,1880. Dear Bitters—I am here trying to breathe in all the salt air of the ocean, and having been a sufferer for more than a year with a refractory liver, I was induced to mix Hop BitteFS with the sea rale, and have found the tincture a glorious result. I have been greatjy helped by the Bitters, and am not afraid to Bay'so. Yours without a struggle. JOSH BILLINGS.

JACOB JOHNSON,

farmer, near Indiana

polis, was cured of Dyspepsia and Bill* ousnesa by the use of Brown's Iron Bitters.

DB. BENSON'S

but yester-

greeted the man cordially,

though at nret inclined to be shy. At length she said, with a smile that captured Cousin Bob forever: "Really, Cousin Robert, I ought not to feel that yon are a stranger. Peter has talked of yon so much and so often, and with such warmth in his heart, that 1 have regarded you more in the character of a true brother than anything else."

away' frotn "Unfcle

to be uncle to tbem— •, ip hia^rank,

Skin Cure consists of

internal and external treatment at same time and it makes the skin white, eoft and smooth. It contains no poisonous drugs. 11. at druggists.

A Ran «m Drag (More. Never was such a rush made for any Drag Stores as is now at Oook A Bell's and Oullck A 06% for a Trial Bottle of Dr. King's New Discovery for Ooraampticm.Ooaghsand pnMr All persons affected with Asthma, Bronchitis. Hoaraenes, Severe Oougbs or any affection of the Tnroat and Lann, »n geta Trial Bottle of this peat remedy for 10 eta by inning at the above Drug Stores. Regular staM^OO- W-

EIGHT YEARS' SCROFULA CURED. A valued correspondent, Albert Simpson Esq., writing from Peoria, 111., says: "Samarium Nervine cored me of scrofula, after having suffered for 8 years with the disease." Mr. Simpsor fives in Peoria. Ask him. Your drug gist keeps it.

Ask him.

fl^O.

Griggs? Cttjr«erlM Salve. Hie best on earth can truly be said of Griggs' Glycerine Salve, which is a sure cure for cuts, bruises, scalcto, burns, wonnds, *nd all other sores. Will positively cure pUes. tetter and all skin eruptions. Satisfaction guaranteed or money refundod. Only S& centa. For •It by Goltek St Qo. (tf.)

lCUTd

Tskin.

-leasi se th* Soalp anff.

Blood of Itching,Scaly Pimply, Scrofulous,! Inherited, and Gontagljua Humore, Blood Poisons, Utcers,

scesses, and Infantile Skin Tortures, the CUTICTTRA REMKDIBS are infallible. OUTI-

inituuuie. V'UTi.RESOLVENT,the Blood Purifier/^fjfs^.-WtjfJ 3tic and Aperient

.Diuretic and Aperient*v expels disease germs

from the blood and perspiration, and thus 'MiJ removes the cause. CTTTICITRA. the great

Price of CUTICTTKA, small boxes, 50 cts. large boxes, $1. COTIOTTKA RKSOLVKNT^I. per bottle. CUTICTTHA SOAP, 26 eta. CUTICURA SHAVING SOAP, 15 cts. Sold by all druggists. Potter llrns and ChemicalC*., Boatan.

Send tor "Mow to Onre Skin Diseases."

CVRA SOAP. Absolutely pure, a in uy meaioai, muonwu 1 tred by the

physicians, and 1882, 1,

elite.<p></p>CATARRH

For the Immediate relief and Permanent •re of every form of Catarrh, from a Simle Head Cold or Influenza of the Low of

tnell, Taste, and Hearing, Cough Bronchitis, _nd Incipient Consumption. Relief in five minutes of any and every case. Nbthing *1. like it. Grateful, fragrant, wholesome. Cure 1 begins from first application, and is rapid, radical, permanent, and never falling.

One bottle Radical Cure, one box Catarrhal Solvent and one Dr.Sanford's Inhaler, in one ackage, of all druggiBts, for $1. Ask for JANFOHD'S RADICAL CURB. POTTBR DRUG and CHBMiOAii Co., Boston.

A| I Ilia For the relief and prevenCUULI AfS* tion, the Instant it is applied W ilAl TAlA

w^\

IT LEADS ALL

Arm's

Ulcerous Sores i&aassi1was

'SyyWwif

Skin Cure, instantly allays Itching and Inflammation, clear the Skin and Scalp, heals Ulcere and Sores, restores the Complexion. CTTTICITRA SOAP, an exquisite Skin Beautifier and Toilet Requisite, is indispensable in treating skin diseases, and for rough, chap- *,1Aid or greasy skin, blackheads, blotches, and ^*by humors. CUTICURA RKMKBIKS are the

fc*

only infallible blood purifier and skin beautifiers.

Cbas. Houghton, Esq., lawyer, 28 State street, Boston, reports a case of Bait Rheum under his observation for ten years, which covered the 1 atients body and limbs, and to 1 "V® which all known methods of treatment had been applied without benefit, which was completely cured sole-'y by the COTICURA REMEDIES, leaving a clean and healthy skin.

Mr. and Mrs. Everett Stebblns, Belchertown, Mass., write: Our little boy waa terribly afflicted with Salt Rhum and Erysi 10111111 nuuiiini IT1U1 .mm. *j, elas ever since he was born, and nothing we could we give him helped him until we tried RNTINIRA RKIOCDIES. which gradually cuied CUTICURA RKMKDIES which t, him, until he is now as fair as any cl

Hon. Wm. fay lor, Health Commissioner, Boston, says: After three months' use of the CUTICURA RKKBDIKS, and twelve yeais of as constant suffering from scrofulous Humor of the face, neck and scalp as It waa endured, I can say that I am cured, and pronounce my case the most remarkable on record.

ouied

lid.

H. JE. Carpenter, Henderson, N. Y., cured of Psoriasis or Leprosy, of twenty CUTICURA REMKDIKB. •, most wonderful oure on record. A dust-

years' standini Tbe most wont pan full of scales fell from him dally. Phy mclans and friends thought he must die. Cure sworn to before a justice of the peaoe and Henderson's most prominent oitlzens. fc VV u.

Sales, IS

Sold everywhere.

Sanford's Radical Cure,

The Great Balstnln Dl«t!llatlon of Witch Haael, American Fine, T1 Can ad 1 an Fur, Marigold, h" 14 Clover Blossom, etc.,

j§

.-I

"V:

W7#

Vvtjj

-"ft

St!

*o,

., i"-l v, u'y v,* A

UOu, me lusiaiii it in of Rheumatism, Neuralgia,

////y Sciatica,Coughs,Colds, Weak Back, Stomach and Bowels, Shooting Pains, Numbness, *v Hysteria, Female Pains,Pal [Vs nitat)on. Dyspepsia, Liver

Complaint, Bullous Fever,

/T\r CTR c\ Malarla.and Epidemics, use

7 Collins' Plasters (an Electrlo Battery combined with a Porous Plaster) and laugh at pain. 26c, everywhere.

Wabash Scratches and Itrh

Bold by Druggists. Moore's (Lers Shaped-) Sutrar \S Coated

Core for Chilli 50.50.|

The Great Malarial Antidote, Sold by DruggtoU, Dr.

Moore,

ilortlandt St. New York.

Invaluable to every family*

LYON&HEALY

Stale ft Monroe St .Chicago

1 of iMtnnm 8«lu. C*p, 8»l&» •Pompom, Cup-Umf* Sua*. Drum *J«or'. Euffv .HMJ,

Susdrt OothU,

K*T»»J»«

MiurhH IbtIWMo IIMI ImtrwiMii and bxJwclM* lor Amateur fkiodt. an» •fCMco Band Mati*

Lady AgtntsSUSm and Nd aafanr MUtng

(MM

(Mr

SkiA^St*Wtegjgtamgg ,Clactta2)5

No other blood-purifying medicine is made.

pletely meets the the general pubiie as

Ayer's Sarsaparilla.

SABSAPABILUA

eTt and expel It from your system. For constitutional or scrofulous Catarrh, AYKB'S SASSATABFLBA FS th« has cured numberless eases

a«u.mn» stop the naaseoa catarrhal disehatges. and remove the «ckenlag odor of the breath, which are Indiestiona or scrofulous origin.

"At the age of two year* one of children terribly afflicted sores on Its

running 1

iaee aad neck. At the same time its eye* were swollen, much inflamed, and rery sore. rUPo Physicians told as that a powojjRP tYFS erful alterative medicine mast be employed/ Tbey united in recommending AYKB SARSAPARILLA. A few doses produced a perceptible improvement, which, by an adherence to your directions, wss continued to a complete aad permanent euro. No evidence has slnee appeared of the existence at aay scrofulous tendencies and no trea«^ ment of any disorder wss ever attended by more prompt or effectual results. *Ya£.tn»ly, B. F. JOHKSO*. -T. PBBPABED BT Dr.J. C.Ayer&Co., Lowell, Maw.

Sold bj all. l)niggi»ts #1, si* bottles for »&.