Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 51, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 14 June 1884 — Page 7

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•'"u

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

THE TWILIGHT SONG.

Passing by an humble dwelling Hidden in the foliage deep, There I heard a mother singing As she rocked ber babe to sleep Soft and low the notes were blended, By an unseen cboir led: "fl-u-#-ta, m-y d-e-a-r, 1-i-e s-t-i-l-I a-n-d *-l-u-m-b-e-r, H-o-l-y a-n-g-e-l-s g-u-a-r-d t-h-y b-e-d!"

Soft the cooing baby answered, With the happy sighs of love. While adown the moonbeamsqolvered Watchers from the world above. Bat the mother sang unheeding, Lips pressed to the downy head: 'H u-fc-h ra-y d-e-"

B-l-u-ra-»-e-r,

d-e-a-r, 1-i-e R-t—1-1-1 a-n-d

H-o-l-y a-u-g-e-l-sg-u-a-r-d t-h-y b-e-d!

Closed ana dark the casement there. And above the humble threshold Hnng the black flag of despair. Bat In mniitc soft the mother tSang beside her baby dead: *'H-u-s-h ra-y e-a-r, 1-1-e s-t-l-l-1 a-n*d a-l-u-m-b-e-r, H-o-l-y a-n-g-e-l-s g-u-a-r-d t-h-y b-e-d!

Soon my restless footsteps wandered In a graveyard's tranquil space, There, in the dark garb of sorrow^

Saw I that familiar face, J~ And the tear-eboked voice was singing By a grave with roses spread: ... "H-u-n-h m-y d-€-a-r, 1-1*6 a-t-i-l-I a-n-o s-l-n-m b-e-r, a r* H-o-l-y a-n-g-e-l-s g-u-a-r-d t-h-y b-c-d I

Yesterday I walked By that home where grief had been, Bat the mo» her's voice was silent, And in death her face serene: Far away I heard the whisper •Of a song that Heavenward sped. '•H-u-s-h m-y d-e-a-r, 1-i-e s-t-i-1-1 a-n-d

H-o-l-y a-n-g-e-l-s g-u-a-r-d t-h-y b-e-d!" —Mrs. M. L. Rgyne, in Detroit Free Press.

Alice W. Hill in Harper's Weekly.

Thee Summer Days.

"H.—HE CAME.

"•I suppose Mrs. Howard is in state of delight at ber son's coming?" said Miss Barton. '•Yes, she is very happy," responded ^"Fbope he will be an acquisition. We do need men ao much here!

The place was a crowded sumuier hotel. The speaker was one of those VOUHK ladies to be found at such places —•uncertain as to years, skillful In crochet, energetic at tennis, active in charades, very obliging, very useful, not so pretty as they used to be, and very little esteemed by the lordly collegiaus who form the most part the scanty male population, and whom they treat with a consideration hardly to be expected from thirty to twentv. "Will he be. should you think? or will he be one of the sort to put on airs about charades aad things, and be poky "I Imagine he will 1~

Is he handsome?" I have never seen him, you know.' Clare might have answered more ex-

Eid

licltly if she had chosen, having studGeoffrey Howard's photograph with norne assiduity. "Why, I thought Mrs. Howard was your guardian, or something, and you were awfully intimate In the family." "It is funny, isn't it? It always •eems as If I knew him. Well, you see, this was the way of it. Mr. Howard only camo back from abroad a few weeks ago be had away two years, and during the year before that he was at Harvard, when I visited Mrs. Howard, and for four years before that we were in Kurore and of courso when I was a child it wasn't strange that we never •pet, as tbev lived in one place and we in another."*' "But you have always known the family, haven't you "Oh my! yes. Mrs. Howard was my mother's dearest friend. When I was a little girl she used to make flying visits very frequently, and she was with us all the tme during roy mother's last illness. And when my father took me abroad, Anuie—that was her daughter that died, you know—Annie went too, and we wore together at school for three years, «nd were like sisters. She died soon after that. It was awful sad. She was a lovely girl." '"should think you would be dying to see him." "I am rather curious, of course."

Nevertheless, when, three or four hours later, Clare heard the station omnibus rumbling up the road, she retired to her room lu a sudden fit of timidity. «ud watched the important arrival through the alats of her blinds.

She saw a tall, active figure swing itself down before the stage stopped, «nd a merry face that at this moment looked almost boyish. He snatched off his hat, as the blonde head bent over the gray one, and a moment after the mother and son, arm In arm, disappear* xi within the house.

A little later, when Geoffrey Howard, having refreshed himself, was sitting in his mother's room watting for his supper, he asked: "Well, designing little mother, how about this voung woman Which was she? I took 'em all in on the plana." "She wasn't there. I don't see where •he is. She was anxious to meet you." "But you haven't said anything to her of your deep purpose?" "Why of course not. And you know that I have no designs. 1 have found a girl whom I have rtudml, and I know if you cared for her she would make you good, loving wife that is all. Dear hoy, you know I should not think of my own wishes for a moment in such a matter, although I am so fond of Clare. But a mother can't help being anxious to secure her son's happiness/' "Is she pretty?" '•You have seen her picture." "I have forgotten what it looks like,"

WeJl, some people don trail her pretty: but she le a very good girl—solid gold," said this astute old lady. ought the young man: «*1 know

Jy the sort.1 I know last the kinB jrftl my mother would fancy a reIta*' *'nd girl, excellent to preside otu ho ibold of a sensible, middle aged old duffer. 'Good, but not beautiful!' I am afraid that I shall not be able to please you this time, mother mine.

Then he thoQtffct no sivat her, and talked a, u: northings. It was after sapper that he met her si last. There wa« a certain co*y parlor, a sd rt on mornings and myw when a tie fire was not bat deeert'd now benrwr .fhody f'-u:-1 1: on tJbe a. -.jf'.or •••*-.-v watching io\nur h'-* tar,!? «»p|wr, Mm. Uov K-Ottf?.: hornbn. nln-•'". I am *^pk t» brlsc. CI in Mti .u tier, ft w-1 'v T^"V"h !»iw •teiiafei#. tiniu before ft! .-

v* fT. ••I'1 ov. }-is

In tvi or mlantk •». be h^HI tba -rg :Ir«y ».• ternaoi. to o0er thi» -artesy and attention doe to hU molbci'a ward, but armed at all points ag^nst

being constrained to do more. A little willnil was this young fellow, b«ving had very much his own way In life far. But all his armor fell at the feet of the young girl his mother led by the hana into the lamp-light. Her white gammer dress came close up around her throat the dusky hair, curling a little, was bound in a low knot at the back. Perhaps the cheeks had a richer tint and the hazel eyes a brighter gleam than usual now.

Geoffrey's accustomed easy bearing for a single instant forsook him in his surprised In that instant Clare held out her hand in such a pretty way. half shy, half frank, saying, "We are old friends already, aren't we, Mr. Howard "Of course we are." His wits had speedily returned to him. "I've known you by your pictures and—a—letters" (the hypocrite "for ever ao long." "I'm not going to ask if you bad a pleasant journey, because there are fourteen other people to ask vou that when you go outeiae presently to be introduced." "Must I go through that do you think It seems to meits plett&nter in here." "Of course you will have to. Don pretend you won't like it, because you will." "Are there a nice lot of people here "Mixed, lik$ eveiytbing else in this world, you know, rretty good on the whole. Mrs. Howard, you must give the nicest people first, and then he will have somebody to fall back upon when the others prove too much for him." "I shall have that anyway." "Oh, you needn't expect to monopolize your mother," said Clare, though she blushed a little under bis glance. "She is in great demand, I' can assure you. Don't you think it will be cooler on the piazza, Mrs. Howard

So Geoffrey had to go and be preyed upon by the damsels who bad been on tiptoe with expectation ever since they bad seen a handsome young man drive up in the omnibus.

Some of them were pretty, but none had had the advantage of being first In the soft radiance of the shaded lamp In that cozy parlor. Oh, judicious Mrs. Howard!

When Clare said good-night, she added, "I did not hear whether or not you accepted Miss Wickbam's invitation to join our picnic to-morrow." "Are you going? "Oh yes, or course." "Then I'll go, on one condition—that you let me drive you." "Oh, you needn't make conditions. If you like to come, we shall be very happy to have you, that Is all."

Geoffrey colored up to bis hair. 'I didn't mean to imply that I supposed it made any dlffereuce to anybody whether I,went or not. I should Bke to go very much." "That is right. We all go together in a couple of bTg wagons." "I wonder what mother meant by saying she wasn't pretty?" said Geoffrey to himself when he went to bed. "Of course she hasn't one of those silly, simpering months, and I am not sure but her nose turns up a very little but It's a bewitching kind of a nose. Well, something awful sweet about her, anyway."

II.—HE8AW.

When the picnic wagons started off tbe next morning, Geoffrey had skillfully secured lor himself a seat next to

C1J3e

was decidedly the hero of tbe hour, for the only other representative of chivalry in the wagon was a freckled youth whose iucipient down could not for a moment compete with Mr. Howard's fine blonde mustache. And then his eyes were "just too perfectly lovely for anything." Clare was a little proud of him. She felt a kind of a proprietary right in him, being really almost one of the family. Not that she monopolized him the thought was far from her. She would have brought the other girls into notice if they had waited to give her the chance. But she was sweet and gracious to him. "What do you do at a picnic?" asked he. It is so'long since I have been to one that I really don't know." "When we arrive," said the vivacious Miss Wickbam, "you will gather sticks and build a fire, then draw water from a well, and hang the kettle. We shall unpack the baskets, and in time make the coffee. When we have repasled we shall disperse, and amuse ourselves ac cording to our various tastes for a short time. There Is a cave to visit iu one direction, a water-fall in another, and a very respective hill to climb, with a view from the top. Which aball you prefer. "I will stay with the remains of the banquet while the rest of you are gone."

The programme, except the last item, was carried out. After the mirthful lunch, Geoffrey induced Clare to go up the hill and show bim the view. As they were starting off, Mies Wickham joined them. "I thought you were going to stay with the feast," she said. "There did not seem to be enough left to make it any object to me."

Are you going up bill So aw I." But at this moment the freckled youth ran up. "Oh—a— Mlsa Wickbam, there's a party going to the cave. Don't you want to see it?"

Mi98 Wickham reflected rapidly. Which were better, a youth, immature but devoted, all to herself, or a desirable man shared with another girl, who would possibly absorb more than her proper half In the hurry of the moment she ra&hly decided in favor of the former. She regretted It afterward, and wished she had not lost this opportunity of showing Mr. Howard how fascinating she could be.

The forsaken pair tolled op the hillside, silently pleased with tbe freckled youth. It was not audi an easy climb. There were steep and rough places where a strong band waa a great help to one. "There 1" said Clare, when at last they stood upon the summit. "Isn't that nice?"

Beautiful!" be murmured, without taking his eyes from her half-averted fare. "Let ns test awhile." fie spread a thick shawls In tbe shadow of some shrubs, and she eat down upon it, and I beg yon to believe me wnen I say that she did it gracefully. It is a thing that can be done, but I own that it la rare.

Geoffrey threw hlroaeif down beside her, and, leaning on his elbow, Mir beat the ground with a little switch he broke trom the bushes.

Clare contemplated the prospect in s5' for a moment. yon realise," a*M ffirey, after «. iv: eraatlon apropos of his travels, ,v it is that we never met be-

"Ii Is rather singular, on tt» whole." "Still, we may be said to really have known ea other brfom." "Oh, intimately. Haven't I read all ur letters to Annie, and lefarned the v«ry semrt y-- eoul "Y©«*re very vcrfooe. Still, I don't fancy a i*ik»w~ia so very apt toponr oot wcrets of hit soul, on psjSr, to his v.»nger *i*ter at boarding-school. Poof lltUe Annie he went on, !n a graver

*4* ^3gSt'

voice "she would have been quite grown up now, like you." "Yes she would have been nineteen." "But she would not have been like you. She was light, and she would always have been small." "How she did adore you!" "It is always the worthless scamps whose sisters adore them. Isn't that considered the rule "Um—I don't know," reflectively. "Did you ever know an exception?" "If you are referring to the present instant, of course, as you say I do not know the becrets of your soul, I can judge of your worth." "It is a question that deserves study. I think yon ought to take it up." "I think we ought both to take up our line of march, if we don't wan't to Keep the rest waiting." "Time enough we needn't start for a few minutes met," said he, looking at his watch. "Do you know," returning to the pleasing subject, "I did see you once. I staid overnight with my mother at your house when I was in the region of eight or nine. I dimly remember on with a white frock and fluffy dark iair. I bad forgotten all about it until I saw you again." "How unkind of you! And how very rude to tell me so in such a point-blank 'manner! After that I certainly shall go."

He sprang up and held out both hands to assist her aa she started to rise. "I will make up for it by never forgetting yon again and he bent and kissed one of thellttle hsnds before he let it go.

She colored, and hurried so fast down the hill that he had some ado to keep up with ber. When they reached their wagon some were already seated, and bad so disposed themselves that Geoffrey was ODliged to take the place behind Clare.

The young lady next him exerted herself to be very entertaining, and Geoffrey "responcfed properly. But when they reached home ne could not have recalled a word she had said, while he knew every twist and turn of Clare's soft hair, and all about tbe bewitching little curls just over her collar.

When he bade her good-night at the foot of the stairs, he asked, "Will you go to drive with me to-morrow afternoon If you say no, I shall think you are afraid of my driving, after refusing to let me take you to the picnic. Please do I will talk about the East as much as you like if you will." "That Is an inducement. And I would not like to wound anybody in his most sensitive point, and horsemanship is every man's, I suppose, whether he has ever held a rein or not. Good-night."

Once in her room, Clare sat down and rested her cheeks between her two hand, and smiled, and smiled, and smiled. Her life was a very pleasant one, she thought. She ought to b3 very thankful everybody was so kind to ner. She was glad she knew Geoffrey Howard at last she was glad to have him for a friend It was pleasant to have a man friend. She did not fall asleep very early, and when she did, a pair of honest, manly blue eyes followed her into her dreams. ,,

As for Geoffrey, he frankly took himself into his own confidence and made no bones about It. "But I don't believe she would have me," he said, in a most unusual fit of humility. "StiU^I've the rest of the summer to try in. What an idiot I was not to come up here before I"

III.—HE CONQUERED.

The forenoon would have dragged to Geoffrey If the prospect of the afternoon had cot enlivened It. Clare sat all the morntng, with a group of other devotees sacrificing to the genius who demands that every woman Bhall get though a certain stint of unnecessary crochet and embroidery every summer while her lasts. He went and ordered his horse and buggy, and came back and sat on the edge of the veranda, swinging his foot, Idly chatting a little, and looking at her. Then, being a restless person, he got up, lighted a cigar, and

fireambulated

TEKRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MATL.

about the grounds, com-

ng back occasionally to look at her. At length, when the cigar was finished, it occurred to him that it would be pleasant in the house near the open window outsidft of which she was sitting. Why bad he not thought of that before? He established himself sideways on a chair, leaning his folded arms an the back. He was just opposite to Clare, but partly sheltered from the other laborers. "What is that you are making?" be tllkdd* "A tidy for your mother and it is going to be entirely beautiful. Don't tell her, mind." ,, "Don't you like to walk?" said he, in atone not intended to reach the others, though of course it did. "Sometimes I do, when It isn't too warm." "Well, It Isn't too warm now. Put away that thing, and come and show me the way to the old mill." "Oh, I couldn't possibly. I've got lo finish this poppy before dinner." "Fiddlesticks!" "Dont swear it's wicked." "Were you asking the way to the mill, Mr. Howard? I'd just as soon show you as not. I feel just like a walk," said Miss Wickham, tbe unabashed. "Do you sketch? It's an awfully picturesque old place." "The fiena!" thought Clare. She never had liked Miss wickham. "There, now! see what you've done." whispered Geoffrey, under his breath. "Oh. thanks you're very good," was wb& he said aloud.

He walked off with tbe interpid damsel and be walked fast. He was thoroughly polite, because be was a gentleman, but they made no long

farryat

the mill,

for fear Miss Wickham should fte late for dinner. Miss Wickham said she didn't care for that, once in a way but of course Mr. Howard could not permit anything of the kind to occur on nis account.

So the morning was got through with, and the dinner and after that Clare disappeared upstairs, and left him with no resourse but smoke and meditation for some hours to ceme, for they were not to take their drive nntll tbe neat of the day was over. There were those who would have helped him to while away tbe interval, but he wonld none of them. Tangbt by experience, he took himself ont of sight and sound of the sirens.

Bat at last the sun was well over in the west. Clare presented herself on tbe porch in a becoming dress of ecru woollen, and a black velvet turban. Thee a double vehicle and pair drew pp in front of the house.

What's this?" exclaimed Geoffrey, Ing down to the gate.

ttBntItWBferti»otfa«r.w

"Wa'al, ye

ordered a

jrse and buggy, »o* a carriage.** "Wa'al, thteai carry ye jest as wen, I

am,

these

••No,

waa the

Jtir

only

bosses I bed in this afternoon." "Well, can't yon harness them into a bogey

not unless oneo' yon «tayto

home. I dont let no man drive this pair o' colts bot myself: yon can bet your bottom dollar on that. 11st out one teem o' young bosses last year to a feller, and they h&nt ben jjjood for any

thing since. there!

"Do you mean to say you expect to go and drive us That isn't what I want I want to drive myself." "Wa'al, sir, sorry I can't accommodate you this afternoon. I'll let you off If yon Bay so: I won't ask ye anything for hltchin' up."

Geoffrey glanced back at the piazza Clare stood on the steps waiting several of the crochet-hook propellers were on tbe veranda, at this moment resting their hands and using their eyes. Well, at least he co*ld have Clare by his side. It was net quite the pleasure to which he had looked forward, but it was a long distance in advance of staying at home. So he helped Clare to mount, jumped in beside her, and off they went.

There could be none of that delightful talk that he had Intended, touching on sentiment, and growing personal and perhaps confidential. The most commonplace utterances were an effort, with old Andrews there, close in front, taking every word. They made a few artificial remarks about the weather, the scenery, and the houses. But after a little encouragement Mr. Andrews supplied conversation for the party. It began to be very enjoyable Indeed to draw him out, and then exchange confidential glances of appreciation behind his unsuspecting back. "About how fur was you calculatln* to go said' Mr. Andrews at length. "Oh, we den't care to go home until dark," replied Geoffrey. "Couldn't we get up somewhere where we can see the sunset asked Clare. "Wa'al, I 'most guess we can if you say se." said Mr. Andrews, who was by no means dead to Clare's pleasant manners. "They's a rud turns off f'm this, a piece further on, that goes up over Sand's Hill. I guess weean get a pooty good view f'm the top o' that."

And they did. Miles of rolling country lay before them, all stink In purple shadow the slanting sunbeams touched only the crests of the hills now. Heavy clouds with golden rims were gathered around the sun, and a few long bars of crimson crossed the pale yellow space in the midst of which he hung. "Isn't It glorious?" murmured Clare.

Little by little the sun was lost behind the hills. The yellow faded green the gold grew red, and the red purple, and in a few minutes more it as all over.

It grew rapidly dark as they descended the hill it had already been twilight for some time in tbe valley, and the thick overhanging clouds which closed in everywhere would shorten the final glimmer. "I hope your horses aren't afraid of the cars, Mr. Andrews,"said Geoffrey. "It's about time for the evening train." "These horses! Afraid! Why, sir, you couldn't scare these cattle with the Old Nick himself."

He bad barely spoken when the blaze of a head-light flashed in their faces, the train came tearing out from cavernous cutting in the opposite hill, and just as it passed them the engine gave a horrible shriek that would have tried the nerves of a woman, let alone a horse.

The colts reared, plunged, and ran. Clare gave one little smothered "Oh!" and clutched Geoffrey's sleeve in terror. In an Instant his arm was around her, holding her fast to his side. The carriage swayed and bounded, and each moment seemed barely to escape overturning. There was a time, long or short nobody knew, of Intense, breathless fear. But underneath, in Clare's heart, stirred an emotion that was not terror. As for Geoffrey, his fear was all for her.

But It was a strong and skillful pair of arms that held the reins, and at last they brought the horses to a stand. Instantly Mr. Andrews was at the heads of tbe panting beasts, and Clare was on the ground, leaning on Geoffrey's arm, and trembling in every nerve. They were in a wooded part of the road, aud tbe last vestige of dim twilight was growing every moment fainter. "They'll be all right in a minute," said Mr. Andrews, encouragingly. "You oan get in again now, miss they ain't no 'casion to be frightened." "Ob, I never can in the world," whlsperei Clare. "You sha'n't," said Geoffrey. "Why, they're perfect lambs. They was only a mite scared. I made a leetle mistake, but notbin' short o' the Old Nick would ha' done it."

He stroked their heads and patted their necks soothingly. "This ladv is rather afraid to try it again, Mr. Ai "Why, now ger. Ir they can ye do, anyhow?"

Geoffrey turned to Clare, though by this time he could not see her face at all. "What do you ssy Will you try it, or would you rather wait here a little while?" •Not—not alone"—timidly. •I should think not"—pressing her arm within his own. "I would rather anything than have to ride all the way back with those horses—If we ever get back." "Mr. Andrews have you any Idea how far the nearest village or settlement is "Wa'al, about three mile." "I'll tell you what you do: you drive on there, and send some kind of a thing to take ua home. Mind that the horse is sure and steady. We don't want to risk any more broken necks to-night." "All right, if you say so," said Mr. ndrews. resignedly, getting in and up the reins. "But I can tell

ye that this 'ere team is jest as safe as a bank vault." In another minute they were alone In the darkness. "We might walk on slowly, If yon aren't too tired," said Geoffrey. "I'm afraid you'll get chilled standing. Here's yonr shawl sha'n't I put it around you "No I'm warm enough, thank you. Do you think you oan see?"

I think I can msnage to keep In the road." Then, after a few moments* pause, "Are you frightened "No, not now: of course not."

They went on, slowly and carefully, feeling their way. Suddenly Clare itched forward with «little cry. Geof ray caught her in bis arms. "What is It? Did you stumble?" "Why, I stepped into a great hole." "We must be off tbe road. We'd better jnst wait and not try to go on.

Then somehow, from somewhere, an impressive kiss fell upon Clare's face. It wfs In every respect a reckless kiss. It lighted upon the ride of her nose, «id it had anything bot a soothing effect pon the yoangiady. She shrank away from him as tar as die dared, having.in mind the promimlty of the invisible dHe1*- ... "Oh, I didn't think pan would do a thing like that," she said in a low distressed voice—"just because I'm helpBoms "Oh, d0o*t—dont say that! Forgive me, Clan. Heaven and earth I Pi rather anything than to hnirt or oflfead

I conldnt help it. 1 just drf It: I dtdnt]

tHHt I lo*e yoa so, Clare. BMMB It." forget thatt Won't

Jon

say that you're not offended 1*11 anything.* He waitod a minute.

"Anyway, vou'd better take my arm, for lear you should fall. Timidly she put out her hand and found his arm. "Don't you think yoa can forgive me?" "Perhaps I can—if I try," in a voice that did not sound agrievea now. "Thank you"—effusively.

In a moment he went on: "Clare, I told you something just now, I couldnot take it back if I wanted to. Is there hope for me, do you think

I—dont—know." Don't you think you might come to love me, in time, a lltlte as Iloveyou "Perhaps—after—a—very—long—time —indeed." "In a month? "Oh! a month isn't long." "Yes, it is a great deal too long. Why put it off so long? Since you're going to love me in a month," ontinuea this careful young calculator, "why not make a tjeginning next week, or—or tomorrow

No answer. "Why not begin now, right away?" he asked, softly and tenderly.

Silence. "Won't you, Clare?" gently putting his arm around her again.

Still silence. But he was not dismayed, for she had hidden her face on his shoulder, though, to be sure, it was effectually hidden before. "Well, dear?" "I can't" she murmured at last. "Why not?"

Because—I—can't— go—back—an d— begin again V' The kiss that came down through tbe dark was more successfully directed this time.

Clare, In. "Hit* chtfckled the boy. "Wa'al, he ain't so mighty skittish."

He slapped the reins down on the old beast's back, and they jogged slowly on their way. It was a good while before they reached home and supper, but they did not appear to mind that.

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CARTERS

It was some time later teat the ap-

Eeard,

roach of a rattling vehicle made itself and soon a voice shouted, "Hullo!" "Well called Geoffrey.

The equipage came a little nearer still, and the light of a lantern suddenly shed abroad revealed a species of a rockaway of advanced years, and a horse, also well on in life, under the command of a grinning boy. "Where be ye Oh, there '—as Geoffrey and Clare came forward. "1 suppose you'se the folks Sam Andrews sent me after "Yes you're right." "I hope the horse is quite safe," said timidly, as Geoffrey helped her

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rrfic 1VER PILLS.

CURE

Blck Beadsche and relieve all the troubles taddent to a bilious state of the system, sach as Dfa» sinesB, Nausea, Drowsiness, Distress after eating, paiain tho Side, Ac. While their most cemsxfr able success has been shown in coring

SICK

Beadsehe,yct Carter'oLIttlo Liver Pills tie toaltiaklA 4*1 /VtnstlnstiAn an A nHnVAnlittff £11 UlSUtliVre ui UO EWUMVUF PIUUUIWO NW and regulate the bowels. Brca If they only Qare&

HEAD.

Ache thev wonld boalmoBtpriceless to those wne Buffer from this distressing complaint but fort*nately their goodness does not endhere, and those who once try thera will find theeelittle pillsv*ta» able In so many ways that they wjUnot be williaC to do without them. But after all sick head

ACHE

la the bane of ro make our great boast* Our pillfl euro It wn# others do not*

Carter's Little Liver Mis are very small an* Yery easy to take. One or two pills make too* They are strictly vegetable and do not gripe or purge, but by their gentle action please rllwbjg use them. JnvlalsatM cents live forftl. Bow by druggists everywhere, or sent by mail. CARTER MEDICINE CO., New Yoxfca

rJSr

Ayer's Pills.

After the bowels are regulated, one of thesa Fills, takefl each day after dinner, is usually all that is required to complete the cure, ,..

AVKR'S PILLS are sugar-coated and purely vegetable—a pleasant, entirely safe, and reliable) medicine for the cure of all disorder* of the stomach and bowels. They am the best of all purgatives for family use.

HUtmBED BY

Or.J.O.Ayer&Co.,Lowell,Mast. Sold by all Druggists. &

•F iT-norr •ur a sox 0f. iinntYE

nmems Aiomi. SeU by an VnaitU ao* D«aMr. DIIWWM la 11 Tbi CUrlM A.VogtUr Co. (5MMW1 to A. Twin kOa.)

SaltteM-a, S4, C.S.A.

TWELFTH.

TTMnTT«TPTAT.

1884.

lUPOR TMMT REDUCTION IN THE PfttCE OF

VASELINE

mnriMUMHI JMU.Y.)

RLTT&UB

IRON,

TONIC

Will irorlfy the BLI late the LIVER and and RBSToaa Tint

Mlf

cured. Bones, musolesana.

nerves reoeive newforc% Enlivens the mind sad supplies Brain Power* Buffering from complaint* peculiar to their sex wltt

to the popularity of the

or'JEj?ftl:aP0

not

ment—Ketthe owoniAtAjro BSST.

•*Pa*^

To Dyspeptics.

The most common signs of Dyspepsia, or Indigestion, are an oppression at the stomach, nausea, flatulency, water-brash, heart-bunj,"vomiting, loss of appetite, and oonstlpatlon. Dyspeptlo patients suffer on* tolil miseries, bodily and montal. They should stimulate the digestion, and secure regular daily action of the bowels, by the use of moderate doses of

::li®

TL*

,, *r» '£\i

:isisiii

f' hi?

Pettit's American COUCH CURE. cmsscMsnnpnoi-imii tin.

|t3f Fi**ST POOHDSD.

ill

locap Ctrns Co*In inerlt to

PETTir S

EYE

8iL*E.«-

[Large Mae ltoUlea,

#0 Cleats.

FOR SALS BY ALL DSALSRS.

Easy to use. A certain cure. Notexwnai vci. Three months' treatment In on* package. Good for Cold, la the Head, Headache, Dizziness, Hay ever, Ac.

Flftyc"*. ^^SSffi^Twkrrm.,^

1884.

CULMINATION OF THE SERIES.

TWELFTH.

CLOSES OCT. 4th.

-a wommtrci. otMtAV or—-raa—Art—T-w-rrantlana—7xod.UCtt.

OPEN TO WE COMPETITION OF THE WORLD.

-rv»jrrai«8rrg»*ar as oaaaafga.-

ExfclMtorf frost every State is the Uofett sad Foreign Covapies.

Owe owee esWtos redeem frwa 1B ewts to 10 ewtou. T«o Ooaee twtttes retoced r«a 25 ewtt tt 15 ceetw FI»eO«ncsfc®tti#si*4#csdfrooiMceatsto26i—-

{ItMkrHt* Kuilutirtig Ca., Ira Tut-,