Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 17, Number 4, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 17 July 1886 — Page 2

Page PDF (9.60 MB)

Back to issue view

he mail.

A PAPER

FOR THE

PEOPLE.

TERRK HAUTK JL'LY 17, 1886.

TIRED.

I am tired. Heart and feet Turn from busy mart and street: I am tired—Rest is sweet.

I have played in the shade,

I am tired. In the sun and I have seen the flower* fade.

I am tired. I have had What has made my spirit glad, What ha* made my spirit sad.

I am tired. I/ras and gain! Golden sheaves and scattcr'd gain! Day had iy»t been spent in vain.

I am tired. Eventide Bids me lay my cares aside, Hlds me in my hopes abide.

I am tired. God IK near. I*»t me sleep without a fear, l^t me die without a tear.

I am tired. I would rest AH the bird within its nest! I am tired. Home is best.

[Harper's Bazar.]

On Rose Day.

BY M. It. CATHKRWOOD.

"I do believe this is rose day," said Infant, standing on tho top step of the veranda in delight. "I know it'ssoap-boiling day,"asserted her twin sister, who had been baptised Marilia Victoria when she was baptised Infanta Isabella, nearly fifty years before. These tfvins entered the world at a period when flowery, daring names were the extreme of fashion, and previous to tho great rebound to plain and strong Ann, Elizabeth, Alary, iiannah, Jane, and thoir various combinations. Infant anno very near being labelled I/voy Lucilla, and she felt thankful for her escape, and even attached to her diminutive.

Hello would never have suited her (she was not a belle), while Infant did not shame her (she was more or loss an infant at any age). She was slender, blueoved, ami smooth-skinned, so smooth that wrinkles could scarcely make their indentation. And it never ceased to bo appropriate for her to wear her hair in a Itraid down her back, tied with ribbons the color of the dress she wore. Infant herself could not separate the gray hair from the blond, nor did she care whether was all blond or all gray. She scampered over a fence and swung in .the cherry-trees. Her long tranced girlhood never onded and the slow life of the farm, simple as grass and wholesome as new milk, kept up the illusion that timo was eternity. In their neighborhood these twins had been the Baldwin girls when they lirst toddled into meeting, when thev went oil" to be educated at an expensive school, when they camo back to paint and play on a grand piano, when their parents died and they took charge of the farm and tho Baldwin girls would probably bo their title when tliey should become contemporary with all living grandmothers.

Occasionally Infant felt shock from tho growing power of young children. was so astonishing to see a creature who was a baby but a short time ago, shooting aloft, long-anned and longloggetf, ami announcing itseii. in ^l^^Viie thow*.i%ta toons. Such phenomena did not aston-111S hereoff. Such si ish Hit la. however. Mho rosentod them. Though she had the same fair complexion and comely make as her sister, a deadly drop of acid had been added to her nature. Her shoulders were bent. She loved lo hoar people talked about, to lift the cortiors of her nose with

Jin. She felt abused by much that tatiJmppenod to heron this planet, and vet too insignificant in her own personality to take it out of the human race as she desired lo do. The freedom, easo, and scope of nature unmarried womanhood were in no wise appreciated by her, because she lived entirely under the little zenith and horizon of her own skull. These traits made Killa an uncomfortable housemate, especially in win tor, when the twins were snowed in with thoir books and trim /.iso-koeping. Still, Infant loved Rill.i's sourness along with Killa. There was strong diversion in being scolded, and she always felt such a 'delicious warmth around her heart when she made it up "Willi llilla ami gave her a handsome present, or took double turns at the cooking.

Killa was very parsimonious, and felt bound to distort herself with aged gowns and long-hoarded hats. But Infant felt unhappy in any color except that tint of grav whieh has the thought of wine in it. On this very rose day, though it was early in the morning, she wore a clinging grav dross of that light wool texture called slially by the dry-goods dealer in Jersey Centre/ And a good background it would make for all the roses Infant could hang upon it.

Nothing made Killa lift the corners of her nose higher than Infant's tlower days. But as Killa would be lifting her nose anyhow, and could really scent no harm iii these silent festivals, Infant continued to observe them year after vear, and to atForri her sister that triumphant sense of superiority whieh we all have upon beholding others'absurdities.

There was emeus day. when the first flowers broke the sod and made heavenly heautx in the dark spring. Infant decked herself with thein, ami put them on the dinner table. More abundantly satisfactory, however, was Ulac day. It took a critical eve to discern the exact date. If the lilacs browned about the edges, then, alas! lilac day had slipped past. They wore noi to be gat here*! too soon, either, if their full soul of fra-

fnfant

ranee was to le enjoyed. On lilae day walked under burdens of lavender bloom. The walls, the pictures, breathed lilacs. And at night she went to sleep crushing her face in a nest of bunches, so that she had lilac dreams, and drew the sweetness into herself, like an Kastorn woman alw »rbing roses.

But the Iwst day of all was rose day. Before it arrived she had always ready a posv of poem* from Keats. Wordsworth, Jean Ingelow, and Whit tier, aud rvad them in the morning while the dew was on the world. The llaldwin girls cultivated a great many roses. Killa could hrmllv tnU* from her rose-water and home'-nml^ attar ami ruse preserves the \apH whieh Infant cut for her nonsense.

There was not a nicer day in the year th-in n*se day. if Kill a would only abstain from Ivkiling soap on that date. The sisters had inherited soventv-Hvo thousand dollars apiece, but they made their own soap every spring of refuse fats and the lye of wood-ashea*. It could have Iwen made cold In Che cellar, if that wav had not been too wv for Killa. She" held it a movable festival, liker we day, and no one will ever cuape ihe degree of* satisfaction she felt in haling Wr tlower-wreatheU Mister up lo the vile-smelling caldron to keep the stirrer going while she set about other duties. Killa honored pioneer custom and her grandmother"* memory by performing tier wMp InoMitsUfem* In tl*e

ff ft -1

oldest, mouldiest, most completely shattered garment she possessed. This was a red wool delaue, so abased from its ruby tons that the drippings of the lye gourd could find little remaining space to burn or spot.

They boiled soap in a huge iron kettle in the chip vard. The blue wood smoke would envelop Rilla and her tarnished tatters as she ladled and tested, until she looked witch-like to passers along the road. Her unhappy victim, the slim woman in gray, with a rope of roses wound sparally around her from head to foot, burden of roses on her bosom, and i\,ses studded thickly along the band of her hat, sat on the corded wood as far as Rilla would allow from the soap, alternately inhaling their odor and rejecting the alkali steam. If infant had to stir the soap, she would have a long-handled stirrer. Tho hot sun, beating on the chip yard and her huge hat, smote also the roses, and amidst their dying fragrance she had sad thoughts on the disappointments of life. So there was nothing but the morning of rose day which Rilla did not spoil.

But the fiftieth anniversary Infant felt a sudden uplifting of courage within herself when her twin announced the soap orgy. "My soap-boiling will not come any more on rose day,'"she put forth, strongly. "And I think I will pay Enos Robb's wife to make up my share of the fat and lye after this, Rilla.'' "I would," said Rilla, sarcastically, "particularly as Knos Robb and his wife and children don't batten on us already. Give them the piano and the best parlor chairs and the solid coffee service while you are about it." "Win', Rilla, I didn't propose to give them my share of the soap. But it would be cheaply got rid of that way. Yes," exclaimed Infant, with sudden recklessness, "I would rather buysoap, and pay out money to have this dirty stuff carted off', than ever smell it again while I live. Let us make a new rule, and give our fat and ashes to the Robbs. Thev have farmed for us ever since father aied," Infant pleaded, "and whatever you say, Rilla, I know you have greatest confidence in them." "The poor-house wagon is never going to call for me," said Rilla, decidedly. "You can go and build a tiro under the kettle, while I carry some more water to pour on the ash hopper. That lye is strong enough to bear up a setting of eggs, but we may need some more a little weaker." "Rilla, I am as firm as the ash hopper itself. You can't shako mo any better than vou could our brick smoke-house. won't help make any more soap— especially on rose day," added Infant to herself. "I don't see any sense in it."

But yQU can see sense in spoiling do/ens of good roses to load yourself up with like a mad Ophelia. You feel above all tho associations of wash day, though the Princess Nausicaa didn't."

Oh, Rilla, I don't feel above anything. I merely feel undor that soap kettle, as if it would crush my soul out, as the shields crushed Tarpoia, if I didn't throw itofi'." "Well, I am going to make soap," said Rilla, whitening with intense disapproval of the liberty her twin proposed to grasp. "You are not a minor and if you were, I'm not your guardian. But if you pro]lose to go to yourself aud leave ino to myself, wo both know what belongs to use, and it is easily done/'

This time-worn hint, which in her girlhood used to startle and distress Infant so much, made but tho slightest impression on her hearing now, as she leaned over the veranda railing to look at tiiio roses. There were such aboundant stacks of them: she might cut and mid'almost as^tall smooth, sweet tea roses, such crimson velvot-petalled Jacqueminots, blush and white so fragrant vou would bcwilling toil row yourself In a sea of their scent yollow roses piercingly delightful, Prairio Queens creeping all over, the front of the houso, one hundred-leaved varieties, having always in thoir depths a reminder of grandmother's chests and long, long past days There were eighteen distinct families of roses, each family a mighty tribe, marshalled before Infant on lawn and dewy stretch of garden. Tt was rose day. She would not let herself think of anything else.

Rilla would not come to the embowered dinner table which Infant prepared carefully, and to whieh she ealleu her sister exactly as the clock struck twelve.

Rose day never interfered with Infant duties. Her conscience acquitted her of shrinking. Often in dead winter-time, when the snow piled up, and Enos Robbs family settled down to the en joymont of colds and rheumatism, sho foil all the stock herself.

Rilla turned her back on Infant's several approaches, and dipped lyo with a savagely noisy gourd to quench Infant's voice. Slugs and aunts in the roses, and even mildew, were no drawback at all to rose day compared to Rilla. Habits of endurance become proof armor to one's sensibilities in the course of life, however so Infant wandered off and absorbed the beauty of that day almost as completely as if she did so with Rilla's approval. There was tremulous heat over the meadows. The huge and strictly tended gardeu was a world by itself. Beyond that stretched their orchard, having a run of clear water winding through it, all thickly tufted along the margins with mint.

Infant stepped upon the spongy lichens of the fence and rested her arms on tho top rail, while she looked along the narrow country thoroughfare. The sweet green world was dear enough to bo pressed in her arms. Mingled mint and rose scents were satisfying. The noble strength of their Norman colts pasturing in tlie stock meadow was beautiful to the eve. Infant loved to hear the pounding of those tufted feet, and to note the brilliant blackness or gray dappling of tho young creatures' coats'glistening in the sun. She did not exject anything more unusual to happen on this rose day than her rebellion against Rilla and tho splendor of the weather.

But who should come suddenly riding along the road, as if he had an appointment wish Infant, and meant to keep it the moment she set her foot on the rail, but the Honorable Truman Condit, who many years before rode instantaneously out of sight? She knew him in a flash, although her hair showed gray around the ears, and much experience had added unspeakably to his personality. He was on a Condit horse, evidently riding around to look at his old neighborhood. There was a great tribe of the Condits, all well-to-do, high-headed people. The Honorable Truman had been the local smart young man of his generation. He was went to the State legislature before his thirtieth year, and afterward he went West,1 ere. Infant heard, he did tremendous

She was suddenly conscious that her rose-studded braid wa* not up a decent lamp a* she wore It h» class* of voting ladies In Sunday-aehool. She felt eonurntlhle and out of her place in the tn procession, although the Honorable Truman turned his !. se straight into the fence corner to iL^te hand* with her. "Pretty ne.irlv the same In' it Baldwin,** he remarked. "ButliLiMsorae lines on your face." 1 «e I've vege' 'ed *"feaT lived time vou to much," said Infant.

terre Haute Saturday evening mail.

"Oh, I haven't been doing so much." "We heard vou had." "We means*Rilla and you. And you didn marry?" "Xo," said Infant, feeling it a stinging indignity that he should mention it, after that courtship so long ago buried. He had married and raised a family out west. Rilla was probably right when she said one woman was the same as another to a man. "And how is Rilla? Is she as hard on you as she used to be?" "Oh, Rilla was never hard on me. She is quite well, thank you. You're coming up to the house to make us a call and take tea, aren't you?" "I thought I would."

Infant looked anxiously at the westering sun. She hoped Rilla would have the cold soap cut into cakes and boxed, and herself bathed, clothed, and in her right mind before the Honorable Truman Condit rode up to their door. "I want to have a talk with you first, though," ho added. "And my way is to go* right to the point. Why did you never marry?" "Come to that," retorted Infant, a sparkle breaking through her face, "why did you marry?" "In the first place, because you wouldn't have me, and in the second place, because I found a very good wife where I went. I've been a widower now several years and the boys are settled. I'm loose from business for almost the first time in my life, and back here to look at the old neighborhood before spending some years abroad. Your never marrying has revived certain things. Maybe you've forgotten."

Among her other thoughts, Infant was conscious of recollecting how often she had wished to go abroad if only some happv friend could go along as a cushion betwixt Rilla and her. She unfastened with a furtive hand the rose rope wound around about her, but, unwilling to let so many precious roses go, gathered it into loops on her arm. "Did you ever know," pursued the Honorable Truman, "that Rilla told me you were going to marry one of the Pierson boys?" "No!" Infant cried out so suddenly that the horse started. "Weren't you engaged to one of them "I never was engaged to anyone except you," she retorted, burning hotly in the face, "and I did not admire that experience when vou dropped me and went off. And I don't yet though you do lay the blame on poor Rillft."

Plenty of time had Rilla for all the domestic countermarching she wished to perform bofore that conference by the fence ended. Unsually stirring were her tactics too, for all tho Bobbs were haled up from the tenement house—Mrs. Robb to cook a supper, and the young Robbs not actually farming to run on errands. "It was six o'clock when Enos cftime riding his plough horses to the great barn. He had turned off early on pur pose to intercept Miss Infant and find out what changes were to be made. Infant hastened up the orchard, while the Honorable Truman hastened to the same destination by the road. She saw hitn leading his horse up the avenue, and felt impatient at Enos Robb's interruption. "Sudden doin's up to the house," said Enos, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Pears like Miss Ilili's made up her mind about Brothpr Sanderson at last." "Is Brother Sanderson at the house?" inquired Infan. "He is, for a fact, and the licenso and the preacher with him. Now what I want to know, and what I ought to been consulted, Miss Infant, seeing how long I been hero, is this—what's you and mo goirt^ptt) do dfterward? Is 1t an' inTer forenco?" "Enos," said Infant, with a gasp, "this is almost as sudden to me as it is to you. But considering Rilla's iirm character, do you think she would let any new person"interfere with her established pi ins?" "No, I don't," replied Enos, grinning.

Rilla was standing before the dresser in her room arrayed in her stiffest silk. She looked with composure upon her twin, who shut tho bedroom door, and hurrried up to embrace her. "It was the best boiling of soap I oyer had," said Rilla, warding the fading roses away from her silk.

Rilla dear, yon might liaVe tokl me what you meant to do this evening. But I am' so glad! I couldn't bear the thoughts of leaving you before, but now I can." "I saw Truman Condit come into the yard with you," said Rilla. "He's grown fat. It must have agreed with him to go west." "This has been a great rose day," said lier twin, undoing ail traces of the dav:s festival, and piling them carefully in the waste-basket where they could make no litter. "Won': you let me kiss you, Rilla?"

The acquiescent nip which Rilla gave Infant took up a world of forgiveness which Rilla never felt. "And do vou think, dear," Infantyentured, "we'll ever wish wo hadn't? We have lived so long with each other. Truman Condit and Brother Sanderson are really strangers to our ways." "I think," replied Rilla, with decision, "that Brother Sanderson will never have a rose day while he lives on my farm and when I sav it is soapboiling day it will be soap-boiling day, and Brother Sanderson will stir the soap."

"100 Doses One Dollar" is true only of Hood's Sarsaparilla, and it is and unanswerable argument as to strength and economy.

THE WIFE'S SHARE.

No class of men says the Home Farm, are more indebted to their wives for the success that comes to them, than are fanners. The wife and the mother who has the courage to go out with the husband of her choice and commence the struggle of life with him on the prairie, or on anew farm, with but little capital except that boundless capital of head and heart, is worthy to stand by the Spartan woman of whom poets have exhausted their won Is of praise. Upon her falls the brunt of the strife, no matter how hard the husband may toil his work closes with the dav, but hers continues long after, and with her children, and the small chores that many of the lK»ginner» look after, her lot is not one to be envied. And when, after years of struggle, success, with reluctant feet, comes to crown the husband with honor, the brightest wreath shonld adorn the brow of the noble wife, who has the stay and anchor, the comfort and the source of ail hope in the stormy days of trial. The wreath should crown her queen.

We hear much of the man. We bear that so-and-so is making money, and he ts the credit of being a forehanded nun. but it is quite as often that the noble little woman, who Ins toiled and complained not, who has pinched and saved and murmured not, is the one to whom the State and Nation is most great!- indebted. These are the women who i. ,»'i men up to that higher and .bier manhood, to that shrine where, iike nigh to of old. they bend the knee of homage, not to beauty, but to worth and royal manhood. «.

Yon will not Limp with painful Coras 'Pedacurm"—of Drufggista. aftysr using'

wmm

THE SUMMER GIRL.

Though her hair be black or her hair be red, Or her eyes be hazel or brown, She's fairer by far than the lillv or rose,

The girl with the muslin gown.

The haughty queen, in her royal robes, With her sceptre and golden crown, Is not so fair in the month of June

As the girl with the muslin gown.

On nothing fairer upon the earth The sun or the moon looks down She's as sweet and fresh as the morning breeze,

The girl in the muslin gown. "-i

One of the Family.

Farmer Kimball was in his strawberry patch, pulling up the weeds, when Lucy Keene came down the road that beautiful July morning, and he was just about to throw an armful of them over the fence as she came round the corner.

The sun-bonnet she wore was exactly like one he remembered to have seen her mother wear twenty-five years ago and he remembered, too, as he looked at this one, and the fresh, rosy face under it, how- that one bad made his heart flutter the first time he saw it, and how- he was so bewitched by it, or the face under it, that he had walked home with Hester Mason, and had had hard work to keep from proposing to her.

He wondered how, and he wondered many times in the twenty-five years that had gone by since then, why he never did propose to her.

He had meant to marry her some time, and he was sure she liked him in the old days but something had come between them, and she had married Robert Keene, and he had married his cousin Mary.

As he had looked at Hester's daughter this summer morning, the old fire stirred Under the dust and ashes of twenty-five years, and he felt a little flame spring up in his heart. "Good morning, Lucy," he said, leaning over the fence. "Oh!" exclaimed Lucy, with a little jump, "I didn't see you, and you came near scaring me. Isn't it pleasant?" "Yes, it is pleasant," answered the farmer, looking straight at her pretty face. "How's your mother?" "Pretty well," answered Lucy. "Your strawberries are doing splendidly, aren't they? We re so provolied about ours. The hens got into the garden, and mother says she don't think we'll have a pailful of berries in all." "I want to know!" exclaimed the farmer. "Now telf your mother that sho's welcome to all she wants out of my patch. She can have 'em just as well as not. There's going to be more'n we'll want, and I'd rather have 'em used than wasted." "I will tell her,'? answered Lucy "I know she'll bo delighted at the chance. You krfcw what a hand she is to make strawberry preserves." "Yes, I do," answered the farmer, thinking of old times. "I remember she beat all the old housekeepers at thi.it. They used to say she had a knack of making strawberry jam that nobody else could get hold of." "She hasn't lost it yet," said Lucy. "She'll be pleased to liavo you come to tea sometime and try some sho made last year. She had unusually good luck." "I'll do it," he replied. "Let me see— to-day's Wednesday. Tell her I'll come over on Saturday, if it's agreeable, and I reckon the berries '11 be ripo, so I can pick a pailful by that timo. If they be, I'll bring some over." "Thank you," said Lucy. "111 tell her to expect jthi to tea on Saturday, then." "YOi," (inswered the farmer, "I'll be houn'oFif nothing happens. Oh. I heard from Charley yesterday. He 11 be homo in a dav or two, to stay." "That'll bo pleasant for you," said Lucy, stooping down to pick up a daisy

He could not see how rosy tho face under the bewitching sun-bonnet grew all at once. If he had, it might have set him thinking. "Yes, it will," said the farmer. "Char ley's a good boy.' "I think I'll have to be going," said Lucy. "Wo shall oxpoct you to tea on Saturday, remember." "I won disappoint you," said the farmer, and then Lucy went on, and he went back to pulling weeds. "I s'pose it's foolish to think of such a thfng, he said to himself, "but I don't know as it's anybody's business but ours. Iflseofit'to marry Lucy, an' she's willin", I'm going to do it."

From which you will see that the farmer's old fancy for tho mother had suddenly been transferred to tho daughter.

Charley came home the next day. "I s'pose I'll have to tell him what I've been thinking about," thought the farm"I'd 'bout as soon take a horsewhip-

I declare. But there ain't any use reading it and puttin' it off, as I know of."

J)inF' in dr

Accordingly, when they were sitting the ijforeh,* began— "I've been thinking of getting anew housekeeper," he announced. "Won't Aunt Sarah stay?" asked Charley. "I—I mean a housekeeper of another kind,' he said, wiping his face vigorously.

in the jjprch, after supper, tho farmer

Charley gave a whistle of surprise, and stared hard at his father. "Who is it to be, if I may ask such a question," he said. "Down the road," said the farmer, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the Widow Keene's. He couldn't muster up courage to say it was Lucy. "Aha! that's tho way the wind blows, is it?" laughed Charley. "I'm glad to hear it. You couldn't do better." "I'm glad to hear you say so," said Mr. Kimball, much relieved. "I felt sure you'd like to have Lucy as—a member of the family.'' "I haven't any objections, if she hasn't." "So that's over," said the fanner, as Charley strolled down the road in the early evening. "I wonder he never took a fancy to her. I s'pose folks'll say I'm an old* fool, but I don't care."

While he sat there Charley was telling Lucy that his father had Keener eyes than he had given him credit for, for he seemed to understand how matters stood perfectly. And what he told her after that is hone of your business or mine, thongh I will say I feel sure that it had ng to do wi one of the family

nothing to do with Lucy's becoming

About four o'clock on Saturday' afternoon Mr. Kimball, in his best coat, and with a pail of strawberries, knocked at Mrs. Keene's door. "Good afternoon," said the widow, as she let him in, with a charming suspicion of a blush in her face. "Here's some berries," said he, awkwardly presenting his offering. "Lucy said tfie bens had played the mischief with vour», and as I have plenty, why, yon may just as well as not have as many of 'em as you need." "I'm a thousand times obliged to yon."

Bv that time the farmer had got to the sitting-room door. Who should he see thereout Charlcv, seemingly very much at home, as he held worsted for Lncy to wind. "I managed to get an invitation to tea, too," laughed Charley. "Yon kept it very sly, but wasn't to be cheated ont of my share of strawberry preserves."

C- ~-v •-,-V"x j,« '*?,.

«. tMC f~ K\ ''^i '-?v'

Then Charley and Lucy looked at each other and laughed, and'the farmer felt his face grow red. "Jest see what he's brought us," said the widow, displaying the berries. If vou will help pick em, Lucy, we'll have a shortcake for tea. I remember how fond you used to be of strawberry shortcake years ago," and the widow smiled at the farmer till there was a dimple in each cheek. Her words brought vividlv to him his happiest experience of a quarter of a century previous. '•I remember, too," he responded.""

Then Lucy and her mother went out. "I've spoken to her about being ono of the family, and she's willing," said Charley. "I don't understand," said the farmer, in great bewilderment, growing hot, then cold. "Why, you know what you said the other night, when you told me you thought of getting her mother for housekeeper," explained Charley. I believed you understood, from wliat you said, that Lucy and I intended to be* married. It's all settled."

Mr. Kimball sat speechless. What he thought of in the next five minutes could not be described. His brain jvorked with a speed and intensity to which it was quite unaccustomed. "I—I hope you'll be happy," lie stammered at last, feeling that something was expected of him, and amiably desirous of maintaining, as far as he could, the genial and happy spirit of the occasion. "I'm sure we will," said Charley. "1 hope you will, too."

Pretty soon the widow came in. "The shortcake's baking," she said.— "Lucy said slio'd pick the berries and sot the table, and sent me in to play lady, and ontertain tho company."

Charley watched his opportunity and slipped into the kitchen. The two more than middle-aged people were thus left to entertain each other. The sly boy Cupid never had a better opportunity given him!

The farmer had made up liis mind again. If lie couldn't have Lucy he'd have her mother, if he could got lier. •'Como to think it all over," he told himself, "that was tho best plan by all odds."

He wondered how he could have been foolish enough to think of having a girl of twenty-ono or two. Tho iitea was rediculous. "What's tho use of waiting?" thought he. "It might as well be settled now as any time." "Hester," he began, getting red again, "Charley and Luev are going to get married. Why shouldn't we?"

Mr. Kimball blurted out the question with startling emphasis. "Why, Mr. Kimball," cried the widow, blushing so rosily that he thought she was prettier than her daughter. "I came over on purpose to ask you," he said, telling a most outrageous fib. "I bono you haven't any objections."

When Lucy came iii, half an hour later, to say tea was ready, the farmer rose up, blushing like a girl, and jerking his thumb towards tho widow then said, in a voice that shook a little: "That's your mother, Lucy I mean she's Mrs. Kimball, or going to be. It's all settled." "I s'poso I may kiss my father, then," said Lucy, and "plumped a kiss on the father's iips, who said sho might give him another for her father-in-law while sho was about it, if she'd no objections. "Ono will answer for both," said Lucy.

Then the farmer gavo his arm to the woman he had meant to marry fivo-and-twenty years ago, and led her out to tea. Ho has never regretted that matters turned out as they djd. "Lucy can't be befit for a daughter," ho tolls' himself "but I don't want any better wife than her mother makes."

A.vcr's Sarsaparilla is tho mostoffective blood purifier ever devised. It is recommended by tho best physicians.

POR DYSPEPSIA,

Mental and Physical Exhaustion,

Nervousness, Weakened Energy,

INDIGESTION, Etc.

-s

ACID PHOSPHATE

A liquid preparation of the phosphates and phosphoric acid.

Recommended by physicians. It maKes a delicious drinK.

Invigorating and strengthening. Pamphlet free. For sale by all dealers.

Romford Chemical Works. Providence, R. I.

BEWARE OF IMITATIONS.

rr-

,V"

INAUGURATION OF THE NEW SERIES.

1886 THIRTEENTH

\j«p^

DYSPEPMi

Causes its victims to be miserable, hopeless, confused, and depressed in mind, very irritablej»langoid, and drowsy. It is a diseaso which does not get well of itself. It requires careful, persistent attention, and a remedy to throw off the causes and tone up tho digestive organs till they perform their duties willingly. Hood's Sarsaparilla has proven just the required remedy in hundreds of cases.

I have taken Hood's Sarsaparilla for dyspepsia, from which I have suffered two years. I tried many other medicines, but none proved so satisfactory as Hood's Sarsaparilla." THOMAS COOK, Brush Electric Light Co., New York City.

Sick Headache

For the past two years I have been afflicted with severe headaches and dyspepsia. I was Induced to try Hood's Sarsaparrilla, and have found great relief. I cheerfully recommend it to all AXXABLE, New Haven, Conn

Mrs. Mary C. Smith, Cambridgeport, Mass., was a sufferer from dyspepsia and sick Headache. Sho took Hood's Sarsaparilla and found it the best remedy she ever used.

Hood's Sarsaparilla

Sold by all druggists. $l six for $5. Made only by 0. HOOD & CO., Lowell, Mass.

IOO Doses One Dollar.

Professional Cards.

W. C. EICHELBERGER, OCULIST AND AURIST.

Room 18, Savings Bank Building. O

C\ 0. LINCOLN, VV. DENTIST.

J.RICHARDSON. R. W. VAN VALZAU.

RICHARDSON & VANVALZAH

IDEIsTTISTS.

Ofllce—Southwest corncr Fifth and Main Streets, over National State Bank (entrance on Fifth Street. Communication by Telephone.

Office, 19% south Oth St., opposite P. O. Substracting and artificial teeth .specialties. All work warranted.

PEO. W. LOOMIS.

VJ DENTIST. Over J. 11. Pi-lggx' store, n. e. cor. 4th «tncl Cherry. Teeth Extracted without pain by lie use of Mayo's Vapor or Nitrous Oxide (Jas. First class material used In plate work. Terre llaute,

I nd.

Dr. IIEN TOM LIN'ft

Medical & Surgical Institute

Corner of Oth and Ohio sts., Terre Haute, Ind. for A LI (.'II HONK' and HPKCIAL 1)IHEA.SKS, Male und Female, MEDICAL or SURGICAL. OJflce hoursIt to 12 1 to 5 and 7 to 8.

A TRIAL TREATMENT FREE in. tho following diseases, viz: OPIUM, morphine or laudanum HABIT, NEllVOl'H DISEASES of MEN and WOMEN, FITS or EPELEl'HY and SORE, WEAK orJDEFIC'IKNT EYES.

Tho following I will TREAT-NO CURE, NO PAY, with a written guarantee, viz, CANCERS, TUMORS, and OLD SORES, TAPE WORMS, FISTULA, PILES and ALL DISEASES of the RECTUM, without the KNIFE or CAUSTICS.

COMPOUND OXYGEN AND

KJ OZONE For Catarrh, Thront and Lung Diseases, and all Weakening, Wasting and Nervous Diseases, Sleeplessness, Debility, Asthma, Bronchitis and Hay I'evcr.

We Give 3 Days Trial, Free. DR. BEN TOM LIN, Gtli and Ohio street. Tern! Haute, Ind. Office hours: 9 to 12,2 to,5 and 7 to 8.

R. GAGG

DKAI.KH IN

ARTISTS' SUPPLIES,

Picture Frames, Mouldings, Picture Frames Made to Order.

MeKeen's Block. 646 Main st,, between Oth and 7th.

GRATEFUL-COMFORTING.

Epps's Cocoa

BKEAKFAAT.

"By a thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations of dlgi tlon and nutrition, and by a careful application of the tine properties of well-selected Cocoa, Mr. Epps has provided our breakfast tables with a delicately flavored beverage which may save us many heavy doctors' bills. It Is by the judicious use of such articles of diet that a constitution may be gradually built up until strong enough to resist every tendency to disease. Hundreds of subtle maladies are floating around us ready to attack wherever there Is a weak point. Wo may escape many a fatal shaft by keeping ourselves well fortified with pure blood and a nourished frame.''—(Civil Service asctte.

Made simply with boiling water or milk. Sold only in half pound tins by grocers, labeled thus: JAM Kg KPI'8 CO..

Honuitopathlc Chemists, London, Kng

INDUSTRIAL*

EXPOSITION

display—the First of the Xeto System—

•The ^preventative E^hibiton of Ma^n} and tyl.

ADMISSION, 85 Cents.

CHEAP EXCURSION RATES-CONSULT YOUR RAILROAD AGENT.

For fan pariieafcn, addrss L. H. McCAMHON, Secretary.

1886