Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 15, Number 33, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 7 February 1885 — Page 6
friii-:
ff| A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.
{Commenced in The Mai' Dec. 0th. Back snmb«n can be bad on application at publication office or of news agents.]<p></p>DATS
T)ARK
O O O W A
A*V»raf "CalUd
CHAPTER XVL
^Vim ABB THB SHOWS THAT WELL UUU TMABf pi Although, while engaged in the laoar of 'Wilting this story, I have many times regretted that I am nothing more than a plain Barrator of facts and incidents, not a master
Action, I think 1 have not felt the regret SB strongly as at the moment when I begin tbris chapter. The sombre acts of the life 4nuna in which Philippa and I played parts •D painful, so full of grief, and even if brightened by a ray of joy, of joy fallacious and of uncertain tenure—these acts I fcave found little difficulty in describing I had simply to throw my mind back to tb» pictures of the past and reproduce them in «on* The task, whether well or ill dons, Was not a hard ona.
But now, when in one moment and as if "by magic, everything changed when sorrow •seined to be simply swept out of our HTM when that poor wretch's abject confession guilt, forced from him income mysterious way, not only left our whole future bright and cloudless, but consigned to rest all the ghosts of the past, whose shadowy forms kad hitherto dogged our steps and denied us Hie happiness rightly due to those who lore as we loved cow I feel my shortcomings acutely, and wish my pen was more powerful than it is.
Andf yet a word will describe the state of say own mind as, when the last solemn irords were spoken by the judge—spoken in A voice which showed emotion and distress •ft being compelled to condemn a fellow creature to death—I carried my fainting Wife rom the crowded, reeking court. The momentary sense of rapture passed away bewilderment, sheer bewilderment, is the word for what was left I could not think. All my reasoning faculties had left me. In fact, I believ* that had Philippa not swooned, and so needed my mechanically given care, 1 myself should have fallen senseless on that threshold which an hour before we crossed, thinking we were going to endless misery.
I remember tliis much. As I laid Philippa on one of the hard wooden benches in the stone corridor I kept repeating to my"Innocent, my love is innocent that
man is guilty." 1 suppose this continual re- the fool insisted."
Iteration was an endeavor impress the tremendous fact upon my brain, which for a time wus incredulous, and refused to entertain it 1 threw up my wife's veil and bathed her face with water, which was brought me by a kindly policeman. Presently her eyes opened and consciousness, returned she strove to speak.
My presence of mind was fast returning. "Dearest," I whispered, "'as you love, me not word in this place. In a minute we will leave it"
She was obedient but I know from the wild look of joy in her eyes that obedience tasked her to the utmost. She was soon able to rise, and then we walked from the court, pushed our way through the crowd who waited in the street busily discussing the
"selves into a cab and in another moment were alternately weeping and laughing in each other's arms.
It was, however, but for a moment The inn to which we drove was close at hand. There we wore shown into a room, and were at last free to give the fullest vent to our pent up feelings.
It would be absurd for me to attempt to reproduce our words, our disjointed exclamations. It would be sacrilege for mo to describe the tears that we shed, the embraces, the loving caresses we lavished on each other. Think of us an hour, one short hour ago! Think of us now) This curse laid upon us by that awful night removed forever! Our secret kept, or secrecy, if still advisable, no longer absolutely needful. Philippa, in spite of all I had seen, in spite of all she had told me on that night when I found her, a wild, distracted woman, in a storm the wildest that years have known, guiltless of her husband's death! Innocent, not only as she had in my eyes always been, but also, what was far more, innocent in her own eyes!
Small wonder that for nearly an hour we sat with our arms twined around each other, and used few words whioh were more than rapturous exclamations of love and joy.
There] 1 cannot, will not describe the soene more fully. I will say no more, except this when at last we grew calmer, Philippa turned to me, and once more I saw terror gathering in her eyes, "Basil," she said, "is it true—it must be truef'
She threw her arms around me. "Basil, my husband," she whispered, "you have done much for me, do one thing more find out the whole truth—find out why this man killed him, bow he killed him find out, satisfy me that his confession Was a true one then, Basil, such happiness as I have never even dreamed of will be mine!" "And miner 1 echoed. 1 promised to do as die wished. Indeed, the moment 1 bad recovered my senses I re* nived learn everything that could be karned. On«M ind for all I would clear away every cloud of doubt, although that d»vid might bo no bigger than a man's hand.
Hot Philippa nvat no* stop in Tewnham. Her strange eou tact during the trial, bar fainting fit after it, were bound to have a* tructed the attention of those present No doubt she was looked ppm as a Mend of the prisoner, who wrs overpowered by the sodden and awfal CM ling to the oas* Still, she most not stay at ftwabam. -r
We went to L»aden by an afternoon train. The next morning I again ran down to the place at which tie trial was held. I learned the name of the coovictfi SQ&itor. and as
sudden termination to the trial,, threw our- for the prosecution had been allowed to en te? the court I am assured they were all kepi in waiting outside."
4
1,'"^
"True! of course it is." "That man, the prisoner, could not have pleaded guilty when he was innocent" "Why should het It meant death to him, poor wretch." "But why did he confessf "Who can tellf Remorse may have urged him to do so."
Philippa. rosa and her next words were spoken quickly and with excitement "No, I did not do it The thought* the dream haunted me, but I did not believe it oh,bow changed everything was! Yet not an til I heard these men talk of the way he I more changed than our own lives! It was a died. Then it all came back to me. The glorious afternoon in September. The rain to ad a I even then I don't think I actually belie red it It was when you told me how you foun 1 me that I lost all hope." "Dearest, forgive mo. I should have believed in the impossibility of the aot even in yoor delirium, evon if I had seen it dona. Philippa, say you forgive ma."
soon as I found him at leisure requested the favor of an interview. I found him apparently a worthy, respeotable man, but of a nature inclined to be choleric. I told him I called on him because I was much interested in the case of the convict William Evans. Mr. Crisp, that was bis name, frowned and fidgeted about with loma ps pen which were in front of him. **otti heir nos talk aeons tne cas%f ha said sharply. "Nothing for many yea* has so much annoyed ma* "Way? Your client only met with bis Asserts." "True—true. But I am a lawyer, sir. Our province is not to think so much of deserts as of what we oan do for a client. It is hard to try and serve a fool." "No doubt bat I scarcely understand your meaning." "Meaning I I could have saved that man. There was no evidence to speak of sgaLnft him. What did it amount tof A pistol of ft peculiar make found in a field half a mile away from the scene of the murder one man who could swear that the pistol was my client's property—a pawnbroker, to whom hi wanted to sell it. Positively, sir, that was the whole case for the Crown. Never so disgusted in my life—never I"
The excitable little man's looks showed that his disgust was not assumed. So the pistol which I had thoughtlessly hurled away had, after all, furnished the clew and brought the criminal to justice. Although I was now quite satisfied that the right person was to suffer for the dark crime, I resolved to get all the additional information 1 could.
But whv did ho plead guilty!" I asked.
1
"But why did he plead guilty f' asked. ''Because he was a foot," rapped out Mr. Crisp
Because he was a fool," rapped out Mr. Crisp. It was like committing suicide. I ion't care a button for the man himself but I confess I was annoyed at seeing my case all knocked to pieces by his obstinacy. I went to him if you were- in court you no (taubt saw me. I begged him to withdraw his plea. I told him I could save him. Yet
"Did penitence or remorse urge him?" "I don't know. He could have had more time for penitence and remorse if he had let me save him from the gallows. No he says, 'It's no good—not a bit of good. You don't know all I know. There's some one in court who knows all about it—saw it all done. She's come to bang me.' I have no idva what he meant"
I started. I knew what the man meant. He, in common with every one else in that court, had turned and looked at Philippa as she rose from her seat and addressed the judge. It was the sight of Philippa that had taken away the wretch's last hope of escape. "I wash my hands of the fellow, 02 course," continued Mr. Crisp "but I did take the trouble to inquire if any witnesses
I sat for some moments in deep thought The solicitor looked at me as if he fancied I had already taken up as much of his valuable time as he could spare. "Is there any way of gaining access to the condemned manf' I said. "Could you, for instance, get an order to see him!" "No doubt I could but I have no object in seeing him." ,, "I will give you ah object," I said. "#,I want you to see that man, and if possible get a written, or at least dictated, confession from him—not of the bald fact that he is guilty, but of all particulars connected with the murder."
Mr. Crisp looked surprised, and expressed his opinion that it was all but impossible to obtain what I wanted.
I bad taken rather a fancy to the briskspoken, sharp little man. He seemed to me trustworthy so that, after consideration, 1 determined to confide to him my reasons for making this request Under the assurance of professional secrecy, I told htm briefly so much as I thought fit of Philippa's and mf own connection with the events of that night He listened with an interest which augured well for the reoeption which awaits the sombre tale I now give to the world. His curiosity seemed excited, and he promised to see the convict, and if possible learn all I wanted to know. I left my address and. bade him good day. did not care to linger at Tewnham so 1 w&lked down to the rail way station, intending to return to town by the next train. As I waited on the platform a down train came in. A sudden impulse seised me. The day was still young. I had time to spare. I crossed the bridge, entered the train, and in a quarter of an hour was at Roding. I went there because I was impelled by a degiro to once more visit the actual scene of the beginning of all these troubles.
I walked that road which Sir Mervyn Ferrand had walked that dark night But
of the preceding day had left the earth moist and fresh. The fields, on either side of the road, were gleaming with that bright pure emerald which they wear after the ruthless scythe has swept away the ripe grass and the marguerites and other flowers whioh grew among it or else they were filled from hedge to hedge with a golden sea of waving oern, or sheaves waiting! to be garnerer, for the harvest that! year was not early. The wild roees were long over, bat fragrant honeysuckle and other wild flw*rs still made gay the hedgerows and brtiks. The birds had awakened from their August silence and were singing onoe more The great sleepy oow* lay undex the shade of the trees. The large mows of new bay stood side by side with their dingylooking but tnon valuable elder brothers. The whole land seemed wrapped in happy autumnal repose. The scene was calm, peaceful and thoroughly typical of England. 8a beautiful ft was, so full I now felt of love for my native land that had thoee pages been then written I shook! upon my return homa have erased all my glowing description oi Seville.
A breath of soft but fresh air cams blow, ing from the faraway downs. I drew in d«rp draught I threw back my shoulders and stood erect I laughed aloud in my gnat happiness as a domical picture, familiar to my childhood, of Christian losing his burden, roes before my mind, and seemed to be the exact thing wanted to illustrate my own, east Yea, the burden I bad boras had taDen' from my back forsvsrl
Ah! here is the spot—the very spot where Sir Mervyn ML It was here, just under that cluster of ragged-robbins, I must have }ave placed his oorpse, little thinking that I the Unit whits snow would hide it and save my love and me. Oh. how I prayed in those days that the bitter weather might last that Its iron grip would hold the world fast until Philippa's health and strength returned! I did so, and saved us! '•Where are the snows that fell last year/' Ah! should 1 no* rather sing, "Where is the grief of yesterdavf Gone like the snow. Other snow may Call, other grief may come, bat last year's snow and yesterday's grief are gon» forever!
Nevertheless, that spot was too suggestive sf horrible reminiscences for me to linger long over itl I turned away, and in my great happiness could whisper to myself that I forgave the dead man for the ill he bad wrought May his bones rest in peace I I walked along the road, right on until I came to the oottage in which, like a coward who could not face his troubles, I hag spent those aimless, miserable months. It was untenanted. Half defaced auction bills were in the windows and on the doorposts for some''months ago the furniture had been sold. I paused and looked at the window by which Philippa had entered, and felt that since that night I had passed, through more grief, passion, Tear, hope and joy than would fill an ordinary liietime. Tha I turned and Bhook the dust off my feet Never again would I come within twenty miles of this place.
On the road back, to my annoyance, I encountered Mm Wilson. I tried to pass without sign o* recognition, but she was too quick for me. She stood in front of one, and I was bound to stop.
She was more haggard, more drawn, more aquiline looking than ever. Her eyes alone looked young. They at least had spirit and vitality in them. They positively blazed upon me. "She did not do it, after all!" she said fiercely.
At first I thought of affecting surprise and asking her what she meant, but 1 felt that any attempt ut equivoque would be but vain.
She did not," I answered shortly. "Fool that 1 was 1" she cried. "Pool, to be led away by an impu Why did I tell her? I swear to you. Dr. North, that had I qot felt sure it was her act, she should never have known. She should have gone to her grave a shamed woman, as I shall gol"
Her look was venom itself." •, Remember," I said sternly, Lady Ferrand is now iny wife. I will not hear her name coupled with yours."
She laughed scornfully. "Your wife! She aoqn forgot her first lov& Why did I speak) I wish my hand had withered before 1 wrote that letter. Do you know why I wrote it?"
No nor do I care." "1 wrote it for vengeance." She had, I thought, served that man as I ought to have served him but I hated her for it, for I loved him still. So I thought it would be so sweet for her to know that she had killed her husband, and for youfr her lover—I knew you were her lover—to know that I could at any moment give her up to justice! I was a fool* Why did that man plead guilty? When I saw your wife rise in court I laughed. I knew what was coming. Now, instead of harming her, I have done her good." "You have," I said curtly, and turned upon my heel. The malignity of this woman was so intense that I felt thankful she could in no way work Philippa harm.
A quarter of a mile up the road I turned. Mrs. Wilson, a black spot on a fair scene, was standing gazing after me. I hurried on until a bend in the path hid her from my sight I hurried on back to Philippa and happiness.
CHAPTER XVIL CLEAR SKIES.
Although England was now to me and to my wife a land very different from the one we quitted some eight months ago, we were anxious to get back to Seville, if only to set at rest ray mother's fears. She, poor woman, as a letter showed, was much exorcised as to what manner of business could have made us leave her in so unceremonious a way. The moment the glad truth had become known to me, I had telegraphed, saying that all was well with us, and that we should join her. Two things only detained us.
The first was that we wanted the convict's confession. Although Philippa said little on the subject, 1 knew that until it arrived she would not be quite happy. There was with her a haunting dread that the man, in the hop9 of mitigating his sentence, had pleaded guilty to a crime of which he was innocent Even the accurate account which I gave her of the interview with the solicitor did not quite satisfy her. So we waited impatiently for the full explanation, which might or might not come.
The second thing which kept us in London was this. I determined that before I left 1 would have the fact that when I married Philippa I married Lady Ferrand fully ac knowledged. I found my way to the
tlemen who were winding up the man's affairs, and stated my case to their incredulous ears. At first they treated me as an impostor.
But not for long. Indeed, my task was half done. They had already, without any assurance from Mrs. Wilson, ferreted out the date and particulars of the death of the first Lady Ferrand. They had but to assure themselves that the marriage certificate which I laid before them was no forgery, and surrender at discretion.
It was a poor estate, the administrators told me. Sir Mervyn had died intestate. He had during his lifetime made away with nearly all he could alienate. Still, there was some personal property, of which my wife could claim a share, and a certain amount of real property, on which she was entitled to dower. Bat it was a very poor estate.
I cut them very short I told them that, let the deceased's wealth be great or little, not one peony-piece of it should soil my wife's fingers. If Sir Mervyn Ferrand's heir was in want of the money, it should, provided he was a different stamp of man from his immediate predecessor, be given to him a free
Sted
ift If not, some hospital should be beneby it All I wanted was that it should be clearly understood that 8ir Mervyn Ferrand left a widow.
The administrators, one of whom was, by the by, the heir, evidently looked upon me as a most eccentric personage. Perhaps it vras for this reason, or—as I do not wish to cast unmerited blame—perhaps it was because tbe estate wound up to nothing—well, any way, even to this day we have received no oomnrnniostion, much leas remittance, from tbe administrators nor, to tell the truth, have I troubled them again. Philippa's marriage admitted, I washed my hands of all the Ferrand brood.
The oon essioa did not arrive but I persuaded Philippa to leave England. Mr. Crisp coold send whatever he had to send to Seville jost as well as to London. So once more, and this time in ail bat perfect happiness, we took the long journey which was mr now quite familiar to as.
The joy, the wild joy, with which Philippa threw herself into my mother's arms checked ail the upbraidings and reproach which we apparently merited. Our return was like the return of a prodigal son and daughter. Laughter, tears and happiness!
Although I tola my mother nothing as to the object of our mysterious journey although she asked me nothing although no wonf evidencing her knowledge of what had
Kallhas
id ever crossed her lips, I know has been revealed to her that Philippa has sobbed oat the whole strange tab on her breast I know it by this. thaS since tbe day of oar return my mother's deep love for my wife has shown ftaslf even tenggftgC YSP, I.W*
TERMS HAUTE SATtfivDAY MAIL
spared the telling of the sale. My mother's eyes the next day showed me that Philippa had given her the history, as I have given it here irom beginning to and.
No, not quits the end. Sit by me once more, as I asked you at the beginning of my story to sit by me but this time, not by the side of a smoldering fire, but ont in the fair, gay patio of our AndaJusian home. Philippa and I are side by side. The post has just come in and brought me a bulky |acket, on which, in a clerkly hand, is written my and address. I tear the wrapper open with eagerness. I know what it contains Philippa knows. I wish to read it first alone, lot the appealing look in her eyes turns ma from my purpose. After all there is nothing to fear, there can be nothing which she sh"Uld not know. So, with our cheeks all but touching, ws read together. Sit by us, lean over my shoulder, and read with us.
So with our cheeks all but touching, we read together. "The confession of W iliiam Evans, now lying in Tewnham jail under sentence ot death:
On the fifth of January, this year, I returned from New Zealand. I worked my passage home. When I reached London I had but a few shillings my pocke\ I had no articles of value wmcfc 1 could sell. All I owned, except my clothes and the little bit of money, was a pistol which a man on board the ship had given me. It was a pistol of his own invention. He had several with him. and said he. wanted to get tue sort known. Why he gave it to me (Jod knows but he did, and a couple cartridges.
I spent my money—all but a shilling or two. 1 tried to get work, but none was to be had. Then I rememuer^d thab I once had a friend who lived near Roling. I went there by train. I had just enough money to pay mv fare. I lound that tne man I knew had left the place two years ago I walked back to the town penniless and desperate. "The first thing I did was to go to the pawnbroker's and try and sell the pistol. The man wouldn't buy it at any price, he said his shop was full of pistols. I wont away and walked to tho railway station to try and earn a few pence somehow. I was in despair —all but starving. "About seven o'clock the train from London came in. A tall gentleman came out of the door of the station. I asked him it' he had any luggage I could carry for him. He told me tb be otf. Ttien I asked him, lor )ity's sake, to give me a shilling to buy some
pi. food, him. "He stood under the gas lamp, and drew out a great gold watch and looked at the time. Then Ue asked a man near which road he must take to get to a village named Cherwell, The man told him. I saw him walb waV, and I knew where he tfas going. "Ishall be hanged next week there is nc hope tor me. But I tell the truth when 1 say that, bad fellow as I am, I had nevei committed such a crime as tue one which at that moment entered my head. That tall man had money, jewelry and good clothing 1 had nothing. 1 was starving. So I ran on, got before him, went miles up the road, and sat down in the bitter cold on a heap oi stones, waiting for him to come, and making up my mind to kill and rob him. I knew must kill him, because he was so muck stronger and bigger than I was. My pistol was loaded. "He came. I saw him in the moonlight. I stood up as he came near and, God forgive me, pulled the trigger, and shot him through the heart He fell like a stone, and I knew I was a murderer. "Oh, if I could I would have undone th« deed! I s*ood lor along time before I dared to go to the body and steal the things fo which I had committed the crime. Then 1 nerved myself and went to take the price for which, unless God is merciful, I had sold my soul. "I never took a farthing. Just as I wat about to begin I heard the sound of feet 1 looked up, and saw a woman or a spirit coming to me. I dropped the pistol in terror. I felt sure she saw me. I looked at hei under the moon. Her face was white, her lips were moving, her hair was all flying about She came straight to where th dead man lay, then stopped and wrung hei hands. I fled away in deadly fear. Iran across several fields. I dared not stop. 1 thought that spirit or ghost was foliowing'mr "I ran on until the snow began. I mus have died in that snow storm if I had not found a half roofed cowshed. I crept into this, and lay all the night and part of the next day. I was the most wretched being ic the world. "Hunger at last drove me out I gol through the snow somehow, and reached 8 house, where tho people saved me from starvation. But nothing could make me gi to the spot where I had done the murder. My life since then has been one of agony. Even now that I am going to be hanged am happier than I have felt for months. May God forgive my crime! "I pleaded guilty at the trial because turned round in the dock and saw the woman who I thought was a spirit standing up and ready to denounce rno to the judge. I knew that she saw me that night, and was bound to be found guilty. "I have confessed all. Every word of this is truth. As I hope for mercy, it is all true!
He cursed me, and I began to haie
We read the letter the paper fluttered down from our hands we turned to each other. Tears of deep thankfulness were in my wife's sweet eyes. Down to tbe smalles detail the wretched man's confession mad* everything clear. Nothing was left un -x plained, except psrhaps, the motive whic' induced Philippa to go that night t» meet her would-be betrayer once more. This we shall never know, but her temporary madness may amply account for it We need seek no further the faintest doubt as to her own perfect innocence is removed from my wife's mind. Hand in hand, heart to heart, lip to lip, we can stand and feel that our troubles are at last over.
Our troubles over! Shall thoee words be the last 1 write! No, one scene more—tbe tcene that lies before me even now.
An Kn?g'M» home. Outside, green shaven lawns, trim paths, and fins old trees. In sffla, the comfort and the peace which make an English home the sweetest in the world. For when was for us the one safe
a
W ILLIAM E VANS."
"P. SL—I took the above confession dowr from the prisoner's dictation. It should be all you want The man seems thoroughly penitent but I do not trouble you with hi expressions of remorse and regret "I remain, dear sir, yours faithfully, "STEPHEN CRISP."
the need was gone when sunny
Spain no longer was for us the one safe land, its charms diminished, and we pined to England's fair fields and ruddy honest faces, oo back we came, and made
onoe mors
ourselves a home, far, far away from every Sjpot the sijK* which might wake sad
»»L """J A* VIM A
it of which night wake
looghts. And here we live, and shall live till that boor when one of us most kiss His other's clay-ooki brow, and know that death has parted those whom nanght bat death
LoJcout loot: throaghthis shaded win. dow. Tbare she sits, my wife a tali son at bar ikh, fair daughter nsar her. Yean, years have vmm 1 bat left no ttafe
upon her trow brought no white threads to streak that raven hair. The rich, bright beauty of the girl is still her own. To me,
now as of yore, the sweetest, fairest woman
in the world!
HUGH CONWAY'S GREAT STORY, "CALLED BACK."
This week we give th« dosing chapter of "Dark Days," by Hugh Conway, a story of the most absorbing interest. Next week we will commence the publicatioh of Mr. Conway's stoiy, "Called Back," the story which first called him into notice. In style it is similar to "Dark Days." Somber and distressing, it is singular pleasing and fascinating. It is only plain, unvarnished, straightforward story-telling, without the least effort at the writing, and without any care, apparently, except to set forth certain deeply tragic and sensational incidents as simply as possible. Bat it is art all the same, rnd art of a very accurate and triumphant quality. The very simplicity of the work, its directness and unswerving candor, gives it an irresistible strength and makes its burden of sadness, terror and suffering so vivid that it seems a literal transcript of personal experience.
In he matter of smooth, exact, effetv, tive writing, "Called Back" has not been surpassed in many a day. Suoh stories are printed every, week in the blood and thunder publications of tbe period, but they are to)d in a style that satisfies only tbe crudest intelligence. Mr. Conway has demonstrated the possibility of so constructing a tale of this class, at once engaging in a popular sense and admirable for its rare" and delicate art, that people of taste, of culture, should be lead to read it.
Mr. E. 0. Palmer, North Monroeville, Huron County, Ohio, writes: "Permit me to add my unsolicited testimonial to your list, ftiy little boy, two years old, fell from a step and struck his forehead. A large, black and blue bunch raised and swelled rapidly. We immediately apI'l ed St. Jacobs Oil and theswelling and disappeared. We would not be without it and have used it often with like effect."
i. i, Griggs' Glycerine Salve. Tbe great wonder bealer has no equal for cuts, bruises, scalds, burns, wounds and all other sores) will positively cure piles, frost bites, tetter and all skin eruptions. Satisfaction or money refutdea. 25cents. Get the best of Gu lick & Co. tf.
once my fate to read) S iame, sorrow, dread, Bitters. Irregularities and obstructions of despair and love. All these, save love, have your syt-tem, are relieved at onee while the vanished long ago and ai I turn to pen special cause of periodical pain are ner* these lines—the last—that look of calm, assural, unclouded joy keeps with me, telling me that from her lire has passed even the very memory of those dark, dark days! [THB BITS.]
NEXT WEEK.
THE
BEST TONIC.
This medicine, combining Iron with pure vegetable tonics, quickly and completely Cares Dyspepsia, Indigestion, Weakness, Impure Blood, .Tlolar^CUtlls and Fevers*
IHs wim?S!iling remedy for Diseases of the Kidaeys and UVCT. It is invaluable for Diseases peculiar to Women, and all who lead sedentary lives.
It does not injure the teeth, Cause headache,or produce constipation—othrr Iron medicine* do. It enriches and purifies the blood, stimulates the appetite, aids tbe assimilation of food, relieves Heartburn and Belching, and strengthhe us an
For Intermittent Fevers, Lassitude, Lack of Energy, &c>, it has no equal. 49* The genuine has above trade mark and crossed red lines on wrapper. Take no other. lid* by SHOWS CHEMICAL CO, BALTISOBS,
OTHER
Used herbs in doctoring the family^and her simple remedies Din CURE in most cases. Without the use of herbs, medical science would be powerless and yet the tendency of the times is to neglect the best of all remedies for those powerful medicines that seriously in-* jure the system.
ISH LEU'S
BITTERS*
is a combination of valuable herbs, carefully compounded from the formula of a regular Physician, who used this prescription largely in his private practice witn great success. It is not a drink,but a medicine used by many physicians.,,
It is invaluable for JiYHpEPSlA,1 KIDNEY and LIVER COMPLAINTS, NERVOUS EXHAUSTION, WEAEr NESS, INDIGESTION, 4te. and white coring will not hurt the system.
Kr. C. J. Rhodes, a well-known iron [man of Safe Harbor, Pa., writes: "My mm w*« comnletelr pro«trstod by ferer tsd agree. Qntnine sod bans did him no sood, I tS« sent far Herb Bitter* sad lnaihort thns the boy was quite welL" "B. A. SeheUentaragar, Druggist, TIT •t. Clair Street, Cleveland, O., writes
Yoar Bitters. I can say, sad do say. ate pfsserlbed by some or the oidestaed most proBtnest ptajrafeiaasia oar etty." lnSHTiHSB HEBB BITTSB8 CO., fc25 Commerce St^ Philadelphia. Parker*! PleaiaBtWorn fyrsp Vmr
Woman's Suffering and Relief. Those languid, tiresome sensations, causing\
that
The children see me as I gam with thought*! ystem all its formei elasticity driven the ful, happy eyes upon that group beneath bloom Irom your cheeks that #ontinua the trees. They call and beckon me. My strain upon your vital forces, lenderins voa wife looks up: her eyes meet mine, just trrituhi* nni fmtfni nan «.n. kraised from tkose sad pages. Ahf love, I
sweet love, in tb me dear eyes what was it
1
Baby Saved
(Ml
BITTERS
KNOW THYSELF.
fails
A Ureal Medical Work on lMaa* hooa. Exhausted Vitality, Nervous and Physicial Debility, Premature Decline in man Errors of Youth, and the unto.d miseries resulting from indiscretions or excesses. A book for every man, young, middle-aged and old. It contal ns 126 prescriptions fer all acute and chronic diseases, each one of whioh is invaluable. So found by the author, whose experience for 28 years is such as probably never before fell to the lot of any physician. 800 pages, bound in beautiful French mnUth embossea covers, full gilt, guaranteed to toe a finer work in every sense—mechanical, literary and professional—than any other wevk sold in this country fer S2.60, or the money will he refunded in every instance. Piioe only SI.00 by mail, postpaid. Illustrative 8am pie 0 cents, bend now. Gold medal awarded the author by the National ModkJrtl Association, to the officers of which he re» fers.
TheSclcnce of Lile should be read by theyoung for instruction, and by the afflicted far relief It will benefit all.—London Lancet.
There is no member of Bociety to whom tWs book will not be useful, whether yootU* parent, guardian, Instructor or clergyman.Argonaut.
Address the Peabody Medical Institute, or Dr. W. II. Parker, No. 4 Bulllnch Street, Boston, Mam., who may be consulted on all diseases requiring skill and experience. Cbrente and obstinate diseases that 111? A 1 bav* baffled the skill of all other" physicians a i-pecialty. SuchfPfJYUTJ'l treated successfully with- A oJ!'J-iJ: out an instance of failure. Mention this pePT-
CONSUMPTION.
I hare a potlttn rsm«4r for tbe rtw dU®"* br is in thousand* ofeMei of the worwt kind »ndof Unfy •Mndlnir hava bean curad. I nije»d, «t rotig I» mrjr«l»a *"lU«fflC»CT. thnt 1 wl 1 Mttd WO BOTTLES /RSS, wttna V*I.0A0I.BTREATIBBOO Ibl. to ajBT iufforer. 01*ee*pre«»«nd O. »4ar to
A
is
116 on yoar
W-
eoustant drain that is taking from your
removed
tbat marvelous remedy, Hop-
manently removed. None reoeive so rauoh benefit, and none are so profoundly grateful, and show such an interest in recomm*niin«
Hop Bitters as women. mM
A Peetal Card fitoiy.
I was affected with kidney and urlnasy Trouble— "For twelve years!" After trying all the doctors and patent medicines could hear of, I used two bottles
Hep .« fi. "Bitters '4? And I am perfectly cured, I keep 1 "All the time!" respectfully, B. F. Booth, Ba«lsbury,Tsn.—May 4,1883, .v f:-v.
BRADFORD, PA., May's, 18*5.
It has cured me of several diteases, sneh aa nervousness, sickness at the stomach, monthly troubles, ete. 1 have not seen a siek day la a year, since I took Hop Bitters. All mg neighbors asp them. MRS. FAXSTIXGHUBX. $3,000 Lost, "A tour to Europe that cost me f8,000, done "me less good than one bottle of Hop Bitters "they also cured my wife of fifteen years' "nervous weakness, sleeplessness and dyspepsia," R. M., Auburn, N. Y.
V'~
y"5
.sis*
80. BJOOIIINGVIL:L*, 0., May 1, giHS—I have beei suffering ten years, and 1 i, tried yoar Hop Bitters, and it done me more good than all the doctors. f, 'X
Miss 8.S. BeoKS.
We are so thankful to say that our nursing 1 baby WHS permanently cured of a dangerous and protracted constipation and irregularity of the bowels by the use of Hop Bitters by its mother, which at the same time restored her to perfect health and strength. i?
of Hop Bitters by 1
Rochester,
—The Parents,
None gennlne wltliout a buneh of grecfk
Hops on tbe white label. Shun all the vile, poisonous stuff with "Hop" or "Hops" in their name.
Why call Cal'en.dar's Liver Bitten ,the Left Liver. Bitters? Because the human liver Is our •trade mark and our left liver,seeU on each bottle, none genuine without It.
Why use the hitman liver as trade mark? Because
Patented April 14, lS7*.liver bitters is a specialty for Liver Comp aints in all their forms. Being compounded from pure root herbs, and old peach, the great appetizer of of the age, a fiivorite family tonic and a warranted medicine. Liver bitters get at the seat of all diseases by the direct action, opening digestive organs of the liver at the same time acts directly on the kidneys, cleanses the lungs, cures brlghts of the kidneys, purifies the blood and beautifies the skin. Ask your drupgists for them. Manufactured by Barbero & Cnllendar, Peoria, Ills. 8oldin Terre Haute by the following druggists Adamson & Krltenstlne, 641 M«in *t.,Cook di Bell, SOI Main St., J. J. Baur A Son, 70S Mala C. F. Zimmerman, 1241 Main, C. C. Leek, Poplar, J. A. Willlson, 001 4th, Allen A Hnvens, 600 13th. J. E. 8omes, N. E. Cor. 6th and Ohio.
Science of Life.
Only $1. f.,
W BY MAIL POST-PA IT1.
34'
Wabash Scratch aud Itch cured in minutes by Woulfordi Saujtary- Lotion. Use no other this never falls. Bold by Boatin A Armstrong, druggists, Terre Haute
itss
Stfc
vh«
gixxJtm, ui r«sri s»., *«w r«a.
I
5
F" THB0HLYTRUB
IRON
TONIC
0 I VC Tan EHZOUM, TITS Of YOUTH. fcestion. and Tired aMolnte
ite){
__ I SB#
nerves receive new forces £DHT(M the mind ana
Ladies
speedy cure. Gives a clear. heaUhT,f»?Ei1**25i Frequent attempts at conntcrfeltlng onlr a«a to the popularity of the original. Do aot expert* a he O O I W A A W S yoar ttoTtoPr-Hytacj ,tor oar "B**AJC.
W«n| Mil I
Manhood Restored
Fxzx.—A victim ofjroathfal imprna«noe
victim of/outhfnl imprnd«ioe
1
Premature
MMiD| Premature Dstf. Henrooa Debility, I/wt Manhood. *«., bavins tried In vaht er^toowB nMdr,haediaooven^aarf|aii Wfctoh 4e will send Aidnm. J.7
IMFAI
HKS WIKRf All
O N S I O N