Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 17, Number 39, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 19 March 1887 — Page 2

-N'

•iVfl??

CHAPTER IX.—Continued.

The sorrowful winter crept by with leaden feet, It required all Bliirley's time and faculties to get the tangled thread of the Carstone fortunes straightened ort. A new trouble faced her, one that she had least of all expected. Her mother gradually sank into a confirmed invalid. It was worse than that. It was about as bad as it could be, in fact Sho bccame a hypochondriac. Shirley's mother was not one of the Carstono sort. She was of the million and one members of the female sex who are put in to fill up, of whom we say she is a good, sweet woman, and dismiss them. She was one of tho amiable creatures for whose ladylike ailments the doctors prescribe goat's whey and gentle exercise. Thoir ailments are always ladylike. In brief, she was one of the women who stay where they are put They are amiable. Yes. But how very uninteresting. During her husband's lifetime, his strong character and high spirit* had borne Mrs. Carstone beyond herself. Like the moon, she had shone by reflected light. Doubtless that is quite the proper thing for wires to do. But it is rather inconvenient when the light is withdrawn. Then they are merely a dark body in the way.

Her husband dead, she sank to her level His death and tho manner of it were a frightful shock to her. A strong character would have rallied. She never tried to do so, but simply hung upon Shirley in a querulous way. She weighted Shirley down and irritated her at tho same time.

She was fair to see, this pretty invalid mamma. "Land sake," said little Mis' Simpkins, "she don't look no older than Shirley, layin' around there on sofys in hor white cashmere gowns trimmed with blue silk that has to be ripped off every time the gown is washed. Her skin is as soft and white as a baby's, that it is! and them rod cheeks of hern is the picture of hoalth. She ain't no more sick nor I am. She's as fat as a hen on acorn pile. Sho could get right up ofTn that there sofy and go and do a chumin' this minit, or I'm a liar! But there she lays, and it's Shirley this and Shirley that and Shirley 'tother, tLJ you'd think her tongue'd wear out"

THE GOSSIPS.

"What's she

Ray's

Mis' Simpkins shut her jaws with a snap like a steel trap and ceased. Katy Tringle took up tho narnrtive. "The neighbors says she got nigh onto a bai o' doctor books, and sho roods ton all day, studyin' out what she calls hor symptina. She'd tw'.Utr be readin' bar bible and rnakin'

her peace with her God and her neighbors, if she% goin' to dio so fast* Katy Tringle stretched out her neck and gave a hiss not tnlike a defiant goose. Indeed. both in appearance and mental qualifications, Miss Tnngte resembled somewhat that invaluable domestic bird. The his set Mis' Simpkins gning again.

UY*,

ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED STORY.

«1 Shirley Carstone.

By ELIZA AECHARD.

ICopyrigbted by the American Press Association.]

the matter with herf

asked Katy Tringle, Mis' Simpkins' gossip. Katy stretched out her long neck to htfbr. "Hush! Sometimes she conceit1? sho's got a needle in her foot and it's runnin' all over over hor. Then she howls with shootin' pains up the spine of her back. Sometimes she conceits she senses a man under her bed. Then she raises the house In the middle of the night"' "They say she's got four kinds of sickness to wunsfc," remarked Katy. "Tee, everybody that sets foot in the house has got to go and hear about her lungs. It's going to carry her off with tho gallopin' consumption beforo spring, she tells folks. Then she coughs a couch like she w/is holler from her heels up. But old Madame Fronchy who tends her says she never coughs none at night Her hands is as plump as a baby's and she weighs moro than Shirley." "l'vo heerd she can't walk, or feed herself without help," continued Katy. "That's another of her notions," scornfully retorted Mis' Simpkins. "She senses she cant turn herself over. Every time she wants to be moved, she screeches for soma of Vim to come and lift her. But she can turn herself over fastonough if sho thinks nobody's lookin'. It takes her half a rninnit to put every bite o' victuals into hor mouth. She pretends to think sho'a got chalk in her jinta, and they've got brittlo and'll break if they're moved onoxiwctod. She crooks her fingers that slow when anybody's lookin', till you'd think it 'twas a funeral waitin' for the corpse's cousins to take their leave. But wheu Madame Prenchy tells .her what a purty white hand she's got, and what slim knuckle"*—sho does it o' purpose to try her, old Mis' Prenchy docs (she's smart enough, I war'nt ye)—then •he forgets herself tee-total, sho docs, and lifts her hand and limbers her fingers out an' out like pianna playin'. Tou can say what you please, but them kind o' rheumatic Pre got my opinions of."

she says the doctor* don't understand

her cam at all, says she. "Dr. Plumpkins they've rowsted out a dosen times in the night to go out there \»u» Mis* Carstone wouldn't livo till morning5. Last night they sent for him be jist naturally up and wouldn't go. I heerd every word they said myaetf, right next door to the doctor's shop. He told Vtn ho was too tired to go anywhere, and be wouldn't go to see his own mother-in-law that night"

Again this little Mis* Slmpkim shut her mouth with a snap tike a steel trap. Again the old maid prompted ber, and again ret her going. "Mis* Carstone aint no more the same woman she was when he wtts a livin" than if she'd turned into porkypiae. She's as cross aspiseo. they go agin her the least moasel sho threatens the children sbe^s again' to 11% and tolls taa they'll be sorry after she* dead. But shell be alivin' after yoa and met laid out on our cooiiu' boards, you nark.*

Which was quite true. Mis' Simpkins summed up in a final gush of emphatic opinion: "She goes a nag, nag, naggin' from morafn'

if®®

till night, and nobody's got a minit's peace in the houij. Lord! Lord! if I had her, Pd the kinks out of her!"

Then she shut her jaws with

snap which

was plainly to close out. The village gossips' diagnosis was only too correct To this hopeless state pretty, gentle Mrs. Carstone had brought herself, simply by giving way to her amotions, and coddling her little ailments. The process is not a difficult one for anybody.

Shirleyto way was not a path of roses, turn which way she would. The question of money bringing work bad beset her sorely, but a beginning bad been made toward settling that The ever present Mis' Simpkins opened her mouth and decided the matter. She said to the squire: "What's the use of makin' sich a to-do about a schoolmaster, when there's one right under your nosos! Give tie school

Shirley Car

stone. She can write and indite and cipher as good as the Presbyterian minister hisself, if she is a female. She ain't no great shakes in years, but she'll come o' that, if she's let alone. Most of us does."

So it came about that Shirley found herself in the place the master had filled. She had taken the work that lay nearest A dreary, distressed life she led at first In her disappointment and inexperience, death would Lave been easier—far easier, indeed.

On this sullen, rainy autumn evening she had gone home from her school and summoned up all her courage, all her philosophy, to meet tho situation. Harry, the youngest little boy, was dangerously ill. That afternoon was a question of his life or death.« Her mother was so overcome that she went from one fainting fit into-another. Between her ratlin for hot water and cold water and raspberry viuegor and smelling salts, and her being constantly moved, she bad kept the household on tho trot for hours. The sound of her peevish groanings was still in Shirley's ears as she passed into the room whye baby Harry lay. A look of joy lighted his white little face as he saw the strong, tall sister. He lifted his wasted arms feebly alout her neck and moaned: •j? "Help Hairy, Shirley."

She lifted the mite of a body in her arms, and walked back and forth, soothing the child. "You better let him die, Mademoiselle," said old Madam Frenchy. "He vill bo better off. If he die now ho vill go to de heaven,. If he live you know not vare be vill go."

But Harry did not die. After he came'to be a man he remembered that illness. He always said Shirley saved him. She was so strong and cheery and gentle that he said from the minute he saw her face that day it put new life into him.

All night she held the child in her arms. All that night, while she rocked him and soothed him and gave him his drink, she looked her future steadily in the face.

She saw that her hands wore to be full for years to coma The work that lay before her was the most distasteful, dispiriting task to which her hands could havo been set. Sho must put tho poem aside. Perhaps now it would be three years before she could begin it What then? Her range of knowledge and feeling would be all the wider, the richer and deeper, for this melancholy experience that was to bo hers. So tho bravo spirit reasoned. But sbo nover thought of giving up the poem. Not once.

Down the vista of yetu-s Shirley saw poverty, disappointment, toil that was hateful to her, and bitter self denial.

She saw all this and she did not shrink.

CHAPTER X. QUIET ANNALS.

In the history of Shirley's life it is necessary to note various minor influences that shaped her destiny. In these minor influences there will be much that is uneventful. Events enough will come, however.

Shirley had been t§u~ht to think. She learned that from her father and her teacher. She was of this nature too: If she saw a wrong or a mistake, she thought first of all, Cannot this wrong and this mistake be righted?

If she set about any work she considered within herself, How could it be done in the best way? Having thus considered, she spared no labor or trouble to accomplish it in that way. She had learned this also from the two wise friends who walked with her no more.

A genius is one who can do all tilings well. Whatever Shirley undertook, though it were no more than the planting out of arose tree, she did it better than tho common run.

So it was with her school. From pfifihts on one side to pupils on the other sho found frouting her a jungle of self complacent ignorance. To turn the jungle into a garden of civilization—this was the task that lay before her.

Her work in the school was so remarkable that its solid results remain to this day, long after—well, long after what was to happen did happen. To this day her old pupils tell, with tears gathering in their eyes, how much they owe to Shirley Carstone.

Her school was like her life, light and shadow. At first she roused ill will sometimes. But by degrees the little mudheads were warmed and tbrilled by her overpowering enthusiasm. The great mudheads at home felt the glow, till the whole mass was melted and molded under her hand.

She recognised that book conning was a small part of education. To train and equip tho child at every point where his after Ufo will touch that of bis fellow man, this was to educate him. The pure, sweet home life of the stone house in the days that were vanished was like a guiding star to the girl in her work. She sought to teach the rude boys in ber charge to be gentle and knightly, as her father had taught her brothers.

The singing of the Carstone children had been the marvel of Lin wood in the old happy days Their mother bad taught them singing. and had taken the greatest pains with them. It bad been ber daiigbt to simbls

them in the evening for what she caEed a family concert faults she pounced upon with a would-be iron like severity that nutdo the children laugh at their gentle mother, while they obeyed ber. Did they sound a harsh or false note* She rapped them to stop, with an awful frown. "There, now!* she said. "Whine through your coses, do! Ift so musical."

Mrs. Carstone had been an enthosiast about her child ren\* singing. Under bo- watchful, loving training, their music became grateful to the ear and melodious a* bird songs.

She taught them to read aloud, too. "A goal reader is rarer in America than a good president," CoL Carstoae had been accustomed to tell his children. There might be soou presidents araoo~ thek*, perhaps, but at any rate he meant there should be several good reader*. So. the pretty mother, with

TERRS TTAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MATT.

bsr sweet, dear voice and correct intonations started rsading school among the young orna. Hero, too, she was quite critical, as with their «hfnf With Tom sbe had the meal trail* Ida. Sbe him unmercifully. "Your voice sounds like the rattling of beans in a pod. Here you go! Listen!*

All this came indelibly back to Shirley, whon sbe became a teacher on her own account She smiled to herself sadly as she found herself repeating the very expressions she had heard from ber mother's lips. Shirley Carstone never gave up Anything sbe undertook. In time her pupils learned. Their young voices took on clear cut, refined tones, which distinguished them from the ordinary country side children as though they had beeu of a different race. Stranger^ flfter a while came from far and near to hear the singing and reading in Shirley's school. It was nature's own melody.

Another point of especial concern with CoL Carstono had been that his children should learn to speak correctly. Himself and wife, both highly cultivated persons, had had their lot in life cast in the crude, unlettered community of. Lin wood. It ha they could not change it But at least that his children's Vj gMdc into the flat, odious age uncultured American. many hours were devoted guage lessons. Col. charge of these. speedl were carefully noted and corrected. The regular language lesson brought much merriment among the young ones and their papa.

not

•ad to Iantook

'liis children's

The father adhered rigidly to his plan ns long as he lived. The daughter unconsciously adopted it in her school andchmg to it

There was yet one morl^lniijtkr on which this accomplished gentleman laflvbat stress. That was homo politeness. He oeclared that home was exactly the place to practice the highest politeness one knew. "It's the place where politeness is most needed," he told his family. "If you wish to be at easo and graceful, you must learn to be at ease and graceful at home. Practice the best manner you know constantly, so as to make it your own manner. Then you will never know anything else."

He was as good as bis word, too. He was as chivalrous and deferential to his wifo down to the last of bis life as if she had been one of her own pretty lady friends.

So notable was this in the rustic neighborhood in which they lived that Jim Sweet was moved to remark to Mis' Simpkins: "Be goll dinged if I ever see a man liko Carstono! He's mannerdly to bis own wife. He's as perlite to her as if he wuzn't married to ber!" "He is, is her retorted the peppery grocer wife. "Well, all Pvogot to say is that he's a show in these parts, He ought to be locked up in a glass case and toted around the country with the circus, ten cents a sight!"

Shirley's father had been gracious and courtly to all the world. He was a man who was polite to his own children. Ho saw ahend of his generation. Tho new and better educational theories which are only now slowly making their way among thoughtful men and women he perceived long before, and put into practice. His children's harmonious development was so blended with their plays that they scarcely knew which was instruction and which was play.

These wise, sweet methods wero infallibly reflected afterward in the work of his daughter, as face answereth to face in a glass.

Her pupils learned to use their eyes and their thoughts to see the beauty that lay all about them. They were taught that each was a block of living clay, hiding in its heart a statue of perfect nobleness and beauty. To chisel away the obstructing ignorance, solilshness, awkwardness and unworthiness, lfeaving only the statue in it splendid grace—this was their education.

The girl succeeded with them to a degree thut would not havo seemed possible. But Rome was not built in a day. Her task was the work of tiring yearn. Yet it was its exceeding great reward. The Linwood school children came to look on life from a loftier plane than their ancestors had done. A stranger coming among them uf ter they became men and women would have catalogued among their virtues and graces abroad intelligence, a delicate senso of honor, an easo and polish pf manner socially, a kindliness that in some wise neared them to the ideal community.

Thus bravely Shirley wrought She was forced to the deferment of her own brightest, sweetest hopes. Sho toiled year by year at a labor that was hateful to hor. Yet, working through the children committed to her care, it was her happy privilege to quicken Linwood into a higher, finer life. Was not that something? It was much.

Outsido of the blessed home-life in the stone house, Shirley had known little of the world socially. When she became the village school mistress, the faithful Mis' Simpkins had advised her that she must make herself acquainted with the families of her pupils. That was to gain the general good will. The good dame gave the young teacher much advice. Mis' Simpkins was always ready to give away anything that cost nothing.

Shirley attended some of the neighborhood festivities. They grated on her painfully. She shrank apart from the company. The women's clack, the harsh guffaw of the men, the idiotic snickering of the older girls, only repelled her.

In the conversation of the Linwood women, the most petty incident, tho most contemptible fault or mistake of those who were absent were taken up and discussed with on intensity and made as much of it as if tho fate of a kingdom had hung OQ them.

Shirley sat in silenco. She ligtnied and meditated. The thought %er poem was seldom long absent from her mind. It ran like an undermotive through her every day deeds—the only bright theme in ber life then. Above all, the dream of & kfggiy woman haunted bar Imagination still. She had laid the people in her grand «pic that was to be should be women. Sbe eould create the kingly woman from tbe visRm hi her imagination, but Ae had thought the minor characters were to come from life. Wi women in tbe world like these TheKpbenoe were the women in comet

Another thought chased this one. pupils—would they be like that, too, when they came to be women? •They shall not,* said Shirley.

Sbe went no more to the Linwood Sewing society. But from that day die was drawn nearer to hor giris, to work more earnestly with them. She answered now to them tbs ... fuestJon die bad asked her fathsr in childhood, and the answer was this: "A girl basas much seme as a boy if sbe will make use of itf

She impressed on tbem intensely that their intellectual powers were given them for use, and tbey would be guilty of nothing loss »mii a dn if they neglected tbem* "You leant your lessons as

iiD

as the

boys do," she told the larger girls. "Why should you get stupid later? Doat let me hear offer

With a sweet insistence she protested from day today that thsy should not allow their mwrtal horiaon to narrow till it inclosed only ribbons and gossip. They must not follow the millions of their kind, who live and make no mors impression on their worid than

upon an elephant, When they died it was recorded on their tombstones that they were the wife of Smith, That was all. 8hirley read and studied with ber girls. Sbe interested them permanently in science, in literature and in the large affaire of life. Cannot a genius do all things? Yet with all this work, this intense concentration of energies elsewhere, tbe poem had again to be put off.

So more years moved on. And still no news of the master.

CHAPTER XL BOYS.

The wings that would have plumed their flight skyward were overweighted earthward. It was Shirley's fate.

Here were tbe boys, her brothers. They tried her faculties to the utmost In the flower of her beautiful youth she was relegated to the position of the middle aged. p, the boy tramp, seemed in some way inextricably entangled with the forthe Carstone family. He had been out" from the county house, at the propsr age. But not ropes or chain cables oocOd have bound hiip in any place to stay. He was a vagabond in%be blood.

Rip bad made overtures of alliance offensive and defensive to the Carstono boys early in his career. Though jrounger than both Tom and Percy, he fascinated them and led them. He was in a wajr the incarnation of the spirit of evil fighting against Shirley for the souls.of herjjoys. She had said within Wself: $f||jjSr "I mean to make my boys so refined in tgste that tbey will sicken at gross dissipations when they come to be men."

So she did at last She was gifted with the radiant will and strength of him who overcomes. All things were under her.

But there were hostile elements in her camp which she little foreknew. Annoyances the meanest and most petty beset her, constantly.

Rip, the boy tramp, had sought first to include Brownie among his good comrades. The girl of 13 repelled his friendly advances with an inborn haughtiness which angered his soul to fury. "Here's something for you," said he, sidling up to her timidly. "It's as pretty as a red wagon. I got it purpose for you, and 'twant no fool of a job, neither."

He held out a soft lined gray bird's nest It contained three beautiful pale, green eggs, speckled with brown.

"PUT IT BACK!"

"How dare you steal a bird's nest," said Brownie indignantly* "Go and put it back where you got it Take away your dirty hand!"

Rip's eyes glowed with rage. He dashed the nest to the ground. "Never you mind, Miss," he said. "You think you are so very fine, but you're nothing but a girl anyhow. You'll get your

come-up-ance.

You'll get

your hair pulled when you won't know who does it Some feller'll pounce out on you in tbe dark and scare you into fits, and you'll never find out who it is When you've got your best clothes on, somebody '11 splash your white dress all over. "Boys'll yell out,'snub nose! snub nose!'at you when you come to town. Somebody'll unpin your pink ribbon sash unbeknownst, and pitch it into a mud puddle. And it'll be this same feller, every time. You mind that!" "Get out!" said Browniejangrily. "Yes, an' the same feller's got a bumblebee in jail in a hollyhock, and he'll let it loose in your hair this minute. Wow-w-w!"

He gave a big soprano screech to mimic a girl. At the same time he unprisor.ed a great fat bumblebee against Brownie's black, curly hair. She screamed in earnest A laugh, a wild Indian warwhoop, a twinkling of bare heels in a double somersault and the boy vanished. Ho was as good as his word. From that day he tormented Brownie till he mftilft life a burden to her at times.

Every manner of deviltry that head of boy could devise was set going by Rip, aided and abetted by Tom and Percy Carstone. Tom was a great lumbering boy with a strong but slow brain, which was behind his size and his years. He knew better tbau to follow tbo lead of Rip, nevertheless he did so. Because we know leaders to be reckless and bad, therefore we follow them sometimes.

Petty thefts began to be noted about Linwood to an extent never before known. Who committed them was a mystery. «Sam, what becomes of all the eggs?" said Brownie. "We can't get an egg for a custard, any more." "Miss Brownie," said Sam, solemnly, "it's th«™ boys. There's pickins and stealins agoin' on about yer (hit's a disgrace to a 'spectable neighborhood. It's things to eat that's most gin'ally always stole. A man wid ahead fur Aggers would know from dat or fac twus boys done it," said Sam with a modest pride. "Them derned boys!" "I wonder where the boys are," said Mrs. Orrtonft one evening. "You ought to look after tbem better, Shirley, I don't know what you are about evenings. Tom and Percy are OOt every night There's Pet gone, too. We culled him Pet when he was little, because be was so and pretty, and looked like a gfri He was that Cowardly that he would scream with fright if your father so much as set him up on a gate posC It seems as if be ftlwaya would be afraid o? tbe dark. I think he's getting over it lately?" gtJflay might have told her mother what f^M» was about evwoings. But sbe did not •I know where the boys go nights, mamaaid litus 8-year-old Harry. "They're

Cave." said Shirley.

are in Robber's Cave, that's where

they an Shirley. Tbey won't tell me, but I followed them oos night 1 glimpsed at them tiirrmgh the curtain. I'm not afraid of the dark.*

Harry was a brave little man, and belligerent "They steal corn, and eggs, and chickens, and roast them in tbe asbes, and eat tbem," continued the child. "Tbo smoke gets into their eyes, and they get cold and muddy, but tbey say the grub tastes ever «o much better than the cooking at home. They call it grub." "Where's Robbers' Cave?" "Get the lantern, 8hiiley, and IH take you there. Tbe enemy surpriss ton. Rip Is tbe robber chief, though he's the little#, They've all learned to smoke, and they've got whisky there. They've lots of other things, too, snd when they get enough, they're going to ran away, and Rip^s going to sell tbem and they're going to start a robber band in the a

Why dkTnt you tell ma this before, Harryr "I only heard ton talk last night. I found their cave long aga Itfi dug in the hillside, and covered with leaves and weeds and limbs of trees. Nobody would ever know *twas Robbers' Cave. They crawl in underground, and they lay a flat rock over the hole. They've a curtain to shut out the light. When thqy hear a noise they say Mouss yer glim.' That means put out toe light They think it's the awfukst fun." J?

All this time Shirley and the child were walking rapidly over stones, undergrowth and mud to an out-of-the-road little ravine a quarter of a mile away. Harry stopped with mathematical exactness at a large flat rock. It looked extremely innocent They moved it and made a little noise. "Douse yer glim I" they heard a voice say. "Stand here, sis, right by the curtain," whispered Harry. "O hoi fellers the enemy is upon you!" he shouted aloud.

There was a stumble and a push against the curtain. But in the blind darkness the amateur robbers could not get out "Now we've got you where Moees was when the light went out," said the tantalizing child. "Guess that conundrum. Say, boys, where was Moses when the light went out?"

No answer. Shirley lifted the curtain suddenly and let light into the proceedings. As she did so half a dozen boys dodged back into the recesses of an underground hole deep enough to stand upright in. Among them were Tom, jPercy and Pet Carstone. The rest quickly made their escape. They slunk in silence before a glance of command which they knew too well to disobey. The cave looked like a junk shop.

Shirley picked up and threw down in rapid succession, respectively, a meat knife, a rusty pistol, a jewsharp and a coil of rope. "And here, as I live, you've got father's sword in this dirt hole! Now tell me who did this? You, Pet—the boy father used to sing to sleep in his arms tiU you were 5 years old because you were afraid of the dark? Nice boy you are, aren't you?"

He hung his heiuL e»f The Carstone boys surrendered unconditionally to General Shirley. Three fallen heroes marched sullenly and silently in front of the enemy to tho house. They vanished ignobly to their dungeon cells, otherwise their beds.

And Shirley—well, when Shirley had disposed of them, sho went to the room mutually occupied by herself and the youngest Carstone, and sat down and laughed as she had not done in yeaiu It was the youth in her that laughed—the daring, fun loving eternal youth.

But there was no more Robbers' Ca ve. The boys had a deep grudgo at tho

terian

Presby

minister. How they paid it off remains to be recorded. This dovout and learned man was extremely dignified. He was also particular in his personal appearance. What could bo more proper in a teacher of that gospel which proclaims that cleanliness is next to godliness? Nothing.

From much delving in lore and much profound thought, the good man had lost his haii* prematurely. The sisters in the church had it that their pastor had studied the hair off his head. In truth, he was as bald as an onion.

He may be easily pardoned for seeking to remedy his misfortune as best he might The good man wore a wig. But it was not vanity that led him to wear a wig. It was to keep him from taking cold. He himself said it Getting an influenza in tbe head was bad for the effectiveness of religious oratory. He had to be particular on this point. Thereoro, no living creature in Linwood had ever seen the minister without his wig, unless it was the cat Being a widower may or may not have emphasized the liability to influenza. At any rate, though, nothing could be more dignified and decorous and spotless than the reverend gentleman's appearance, wig and all. The ladies of the church took pride in it 'Twas prayer meeting night. In the back of the church was a door, long unused. II was directly in the rear of the platform whereon tho minister sat

The people were assembled for the beginning of the service. The minister was in his pifr™» Near the platform, likewise in his proper place, sat Deacon Durham, most rigid and dovout of all.

It was the impressive moment when tho exercises were about beginning. Tho minister had already said "ahem" to clear his throat

Suddenly there came three loud and hollow raps at tho long unused door behind the minister. The congregation started. Tbe like had never been known before.

The three hollow raps were repeated, like a greeting from the spirit world. Being next

the

door the preacher himself unfastenecUt The minister was a man of action. He pulled the door open hastilj. A terrible white figure stood there, ghastly and gigantic. It looked as tall as the meeting house steeple. An awful spirit arm waved in the air an instant, a ghostly hand swooped down and clutched the minister's sacred wig and bore it gently away to realms of air. The

door

was closed silently and suddenly by invisible spirits. The minister was left standing there in sight of all the folk, bald and shiny.

Consternation seized all. Deacon Durham recovered himself first He made a dash for the door. The spirit hands held it closed on the outside. It was impossible to open it The Deacon made a dash for the front door. He ran around the outside of tbe church. All was darkness and silence. Sinful hands bad profaned tbe church back door, and affixed a bolt to the outside.

Over tbe scene inside the sanctuary meantime the curtain falls. There was no preaching next Sabbath. The minister was not well, it was said. But it was said, again, by tbe godless that be had gone to the city to get anew wig.

Yet afresh profanation of tbe sanctuary froze with horror the marrow of the devout in Linwood. The children assembled for Babhilh school as usual Tbe key of the sacred edifice could not bo found. Suddenly, when the whole school was waiting, tbe key was produced, the door was opened, and the teacher and children were admitted. On the pulpit desk—yea, perched upon the very Bible itself—was a sheep's bead. Upon tbe sheep's bead, alas tbe day! was the identical wig clutched from tbe minister's bead by the spirit hand, prayer meeting night

But to this day the perpetrators of the gcandalous outrage are unknown. Its origin remains a matter of mystery. That, too, Is where Moses was whon tbe light went out—in the dark.

[TO BK COSTOfTZD.]

you ne_

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Itch and scratches of every kind cared in 30 minutes by Woolford'a Sanitary Lotion. Use no other. This never falls. Sold by W. C. BunUn, Druggist, Terre Haute, £nd.

Dost Kxrlaepent.

You cannot afford to waste time in perimenting when your lungs are danger. Consumption always seems first, only a

"i*

cold. Do not permit an

dealer to impose upon you with som' cheap imitation of Dr. King's New Di covery for Consumption, Coughs an Colds, but be sure you get the genuiu Because he can make more profit may tell you he has something just good, or just the same. Don't be decei ed, but insist upon getting Dr. Kin New Discovery, which is guaranteed give relief in all Throat, Lung and Che affections. Trial bottles free at Coo" Bell A Loury Drug Store. (6

Saved JBla Life.

Mr. D. I. WDcoeon, of Horse Cave, Ky., say he was, for many years, badly afflicted wit Phthisic, also Diabetes tho pning were most unendurable and would sometimes a most throw him Into convulsions. He tr. Electric Bitters and got relief from first tie and after taking six bottles, was enti cured and had gained in flesh elgh pounds. Says he positively believes he woul ha^ ave died, had it not been for the relief a rorded by Electric Bitters. Sold a bottle by Cook, Bell Jk Iowry.

Bnoklen's Arnica Salve. 1

The Best Salve in the world for Cuts, Bruise Sores. Ulcere, Salt Rheum. Fever Sores, Te ter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, a all skin eruptions, and positively cures Pil or no pay required. It is guaranteed to g* perfect satisfaction, or money refunded, per box. For sale by Cook & Bell.

0H1 MY BACK

•very strata or coM attacks that weak back ui nearly prostrates yoa.

TSE

BEST TONIC

Strengthens the Muscles, Hteadles the Nerves* Enriches the Blood, ives New Vigor.

Da J. L.

MTKBS.

Fairfield. Iowa, wys:

Brown'» Iron Bitten is the best Iron medicine I have known in my 80 years' praotioe. I have found It

Ma. W. F. BBOWH, 587 Main St., Oovinjjton. Ky.. save: "I was completely broken down in health and troubled with pains in my back. Browu'u Iron Bitten entirely restored me to health." Oennlne has abore

Trade Mark and croemd red lines

on wrapper. Tnke no other. Made only by

IKOWH CIIEMIUAL CO,, BALTlUOltE, Mft

-A T.1-4^

A man who has practiced mcdicln for 40 years ought to know salt from sugar read what he says:

Toledo, O., Jan. 10,1887.

Messrs. F. J. Cheney & Co.—Gentlemen:—I have been In tho gen.era! practice

medicine

tormoat

40 yoare, and would say that in all my practice and experience, have never seen a prescription that I could prescribe with as much confldenco of success as I can Hall's Catarrh Cure, manufactured by you. Have prescribed it a great many times and its effect Is wonderful, and would say In conclusion that I havo yet to And case of Catarrh that it would not cure, i. If they would take It according to directions. Yours truly,

ijL. L. OORSUCfl, M. D.

g|£ Olllce, 215 Summit 8t. We will give 8100 for any case of S "Catarrh that can not bo cured with

Hall's Catarrh Cure. Taken lnternally. F. J. CHENEY A CO.. Props.,

Toledo, O.

•arHold by Druggists, 7/ cts.

PI8CS

RKMBOY

roB

CATARRH

gives immediate relief. Catarrhal virus is soon expelled from the system, and the diseased action of the mucous membrane is replaced by healthy secretions.

The dose is small. One package contains a sufficient quantity for a long treatment.

ATARRH

A cold in tbe Head is relieved by an application of Piso's Remedy

for

Catarrh. The comfort to be got

from

it in this way is worth many times its cost Easy and pleasant to use.

Price. SO cents. Sold by druggists or sent by mail.

T.<p></p>Ms

HAznrtMX, Warren, Fa.<p></p>Pi

Ih an invalwiblc remedy ft ?1CK HEADACHE, T0RP' ./ F.R, DYSPEPSIA, PILE MALARIA, C0CTIVENES AND ALL BILIOUS DISEASE

Sold Zvorywlmro.

eid

ore

tried ia rain erary tops ampte self-cure, which

ia win'

OUR

185#

GHTALpO

TELLS THE WHOLE ST0R

FOR THE GARDENER :1HE FARMER-AND THC5 WHO LOVE PLANTS* AND-FLOWERS.

JCVAUQHAN-42 3AIU n-:CH!CAGt

Manhood

RESTORED. Sasn Free. A vtcttmnf youth* imprudence oanslaff Pre* tare Dray, Nervmts Iiebi

•,iself-cnre, W iuhi u. «m mu ui a jr. HAHOlt,FttMUfflos Bozsm VewTorkOU

I CURE FITS

ftai I on

•inly to Map Hun1 *c*m. 1 man a

a MJM aa4 UM flMn i«Uu» W twft I bar* Slew ef JOTS, LSTSr er PAlXISO SICCMHS a IH* loaf Mmdj wamat

mf t«a*4r

to wit u» worn mil.

etken ten MM to to

imm

tor

no* raertvfa

for irwU** nod Trr* Sattl* *f 0tv« lym u4 FortOSn. It **M* trtal,mM I *#lmm imsw

B. a. sour,

r*«rl

St., Xnr Tort