Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 19, Number 23, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 December 1888 — Page 2

*r*

THE_MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TERRK HAUTE, DEC. 1, 1888.

HER LIFE.

She lived and labored 'midst the kvrllest thing* Walked at my side and talked, and oft did flii Tbe gracious boars that friendly twilight brings

With toO. naught rae«tianing If Rood or ID Were hem soft tollable* uita crooned at ere, Like poppies' breath falling down tenderly On infant eyelid* that gay Sports would team

To nestie doae and sleep upon her knee. Her life wac colorless and commonplace Devoid of poetry—I thought it so For I waa blind, and could not see tbe grace

That grew through oomznoa duties now I know, Since she la gooe from me and all ber carta, I entertained an angel unawares. —ZiteUa Oocke to American Magasina

A Lesson to

Atrprc

I think from all I have read and I heard," said young Dr. Newberry,

od. "I perfectly agree with you, Joel

respond brightly.

ed Josie Chas, looking up ™J?] "And so thero will never be any danger

of our misunderstanding eac

other,

will there?" And then there was some little ectsatic demonstration, such as youthful lovers are privileged to indulgo In when alone.

They had been but three days engaged and had known each other not quite three months—only since the young doctor had come to Woodleigh to com xnence practice.

Josie was the belle of the town, and it had not been without a struggle that the young doctor had won her in a face of richer, and, as some people considered, more desirable suitors. handsome voungl

She was very pretty and clever, and {*er»

was to having her own way ''Seeing she'san only child," said Mrs. Larrluiar, who had five grown daughters of her own, "she's well nigh spoiled to death. Her ma lets her have ne way and though her pa sometimes worries about her odd doings, she generally manages to bring him around in the ond." "She's such a llirt!" said MIHS Blossom LarrimerJwho, though the eldest of five sisters,sttll languished uugathered upon the parent stem. "Why, I couldn't tell tho men she has led on to and

Ja« ltiploy, whom they turned out of

Rattlepan College for whitewashing the

yet \V«

thinking a littlo but ho was not to be frightened from his wooing, aud in his happiness as an accopted lover he forgot all the warnings and croaking of this Ijirrlmor family.

He knew that his Josie was a little coquettish—a littlo vain it might be—as what pretty woman is not? But that she was either heartloss or fickle he would not believe.

And it was not until further confidential revelations from tho indefatigable Mrs. Marrimar that an uneasy feeliug of doubt and perplexity began to take possession of his mind. "Ahoml" said that lady, as she handed him a second cup or tea, when one evening he had come in rather late from a professional call. "So Mr. Jack Ripley is back again in Woodleigh. What do

"1 havo not had the pleasure of meet-

in^No?n'l)ear

fnp

his a

As usual, when he was not profession ally engaged, he went after tea to see Josie, It was a warm moonlight sum mcr night the parlor wm unoccupied and close, and the doctor, while waiting for his bethrothed took his seat at aside window—a window which opened upon the prvttv garden, and through which

of u»i*r*

isiaisiisi

Jast then servants voice was beard "Miss Josie!" You're wanted In the parlor, miss."

Josie came in flushed, excited, and, despite her evident effort to appear as usual, shy and constrained.

The doctor did not remain long. He felt too shocked and wdunded to know what course to pursue in this sudden and unexpected state of things.

1 J"**

now

J—'OVCrS. I the next evening and find outsomething more definite by which to shape his

4tthe

n.ntV.yv.aa aJ} e®f°.r'.

No, the doctor had not heard anv one was enabled to elude her argus eye and mention Mr. Jack Ripley. And he get safely away with het lover. thought it rather strange that if that "Papa has always been in favor of the

came a soYt refreshing breeae, laden with I half inquiringly int perfume of roses. "No, darling—not now," he answered

In fact, just beneath this window was "although you have caused me the most what Josie called her rose arbor— a trel-1 miserable hours of my life," "Charlie," she said sotfly, as she allowed hltn to draw her gently towards him, "if you had practiced your own theory and sought an explanation of what appeared to you so suspicious, you would nave been spared those miserable hours," "Yee, darling, it was my fault. But this may serve us both for a lesson to begin with."

lis covered with a running rose bush, where only last night he bad sat with her in the moonlight and talked overj their plans of future happiness.

He nad noticed at the time that shel appeared a little alisent minded and disinclined to talk. Could it have been on account of this visit of Mr. Jack Ripley?l And now, as the thought oecured, he became aware of low voices in the arbor. I Before he could rise and move awayj theee words in Josie"* voice, slightly raised, came ais' ctly to his ear: "I tell you, Ji W:, no one suspects us. I But you come too often to the house. You must keep away, and this must be vour last visit befare—"

Her voice sank and the rest was inaudible. But a reply came in a man's tones —low and tender and pleading. "You are sure you will not fail me at the last—that I may trust implicitly to liable standby. your promise?"

Tt more mum ings only broken. sent oame to 1 ear of the uncon-1 sciously spellbound listener, 11

Whir, I think he will not exactly *P-1 ma 4M TiiutUtNi MIml I oame in Joaie laughing voice, married I hare a TOo long aalamnn light to consult my own inclination. As to papa, to will he angry with us, of course, but only for a time. Too will mm him with benevolent tecs glow, ing with a at of natUfaction, while he snrsada out his dear podgy hands and aays: 'Bkiiia you, my children.'"

And then they both laughed.

rERRE HAUTE

There was a endden rustling of the rosea as the girl sprang up. '-Remember, Jack, to-morrow evening at eight precisely. Can you see the dress I have on—brown over a striped underskirt? Well, it will be this dress and thick brown veiL And you must be standing exactly by that poplar tree I showed you. Gooa-bye! You had better leave by the garden gate instead of going into the house." Then the doctor regained sufficient presence of mind to move away and seat himself as far as possible from the open window.

He would go home and think it over. And the result of his thinking was that he concluded to say nothing to Josephine

but to watch her movements

I Jt was a little past *®v®° etoefc the

groat bane Jt the happiness of lovers, evening when, watching from his whether engaged or married, is a lack of perfect franknews and confidence be-1{^^tly (low the steps of her fathers Keen them. Should anything arise to Jon*, aUired I»^the brown and stripped excite doubt in the mind of either party, ^jess. which was an explanation should be at once sought "®^ft_rownven. k_#„„„i,a

and given, and thus fluently much .ge her 1*h® trAtimA oywI nnh&nnlnAM iriAV bo avoid- I tier V6il ClOSCj find 6V6D C&tt£Qt trouble and unhapplness may De avow

her

gUnce

ghe looked ghy

081110

full of warm-hoarted and generous im- apparently half fainting, in his pulses, and also, if the doctor's landlady

ar™8*

be credited Bomewhat fond of I At the same moment he made a sipnal

propose fully hi

less and cruol!" she added, with a sympathetic sigh. "Oh, you had better leave the doctor to find out ail that for himself!" giggled Miss Uay, tho youngest of the live. "Only, doctor, you mustn't blamo us for lottiug you be caught in a man trap. We've warned you. He, be!" "The last one," said Mrs. Larrimer, solemnly, "was that wild! young fellow, ltiploy, span President's horse and other lawless doings. Mo un©d to visit Miss Josephine whilo ho was at tho colloge about two ears ago, and just before you oame to lodlelgh ho was back again aud the two woro thicker than evor. Some folks thought it would be a match, but her pa interfered and sent him off. I must say Bho changes mighty easy from one to another. I'd 1M sorry to have one of my girls act like thayi .a6ot*uttfou nrst sot the doctor to

nvflr

to-

over to

rd« his office, as if fearful

wards his office, as if fearful of being seen by him. Then she walked on very fast, while he followed at a safe distance.

She went first to a house in which he knew a sister of her father resided—Miss Alraeria Chase—a well-to-do maiden ladv whose prink and severe aspect he hud never liked.

Here she remained about half an hour, then reappeared, walking hurriedly as before and taking her way, not homeward, but towards the suburbs of the town.

Entering a sort of lane or narrow road, with a thick hedge on one

Bide,

she came

in sight of a poplar treo at a turn of the lane. Here a man was standing—a tall, handsome young fellow—who, on seeing

nastily forward and receive

and a carriage, until now hidden by the turn of the lane, came up. The two hurriedly entered it, and they drove away at a rapid pace. They were clearly going to catch the north-bound train at the nearest Btation.

The doctor, although he now understood the plan, made no motion or attempt to oppose it. 'If she prefers him to me, let her go," he said, and, in forlorn wretchedness and bitterness of soul, returned to his office.

The Chase house opposite was shut up and the windows closed, as though its life and light had forever departed.

Did the parents know as yet what had happened? Should he break it to them more gently, perhaps, than others would do, and in their woe find some soothing for his own.

He walked Blowly up the front steps to the porch, and there lingered. He could not llud it in his heart to enter the house where her presence was no longer

'bat Kave

tho bell knob a pull which seemed like the wrenchings of his own heartstrings. The door was Instantly opened, and turning he beheld Josie standing sullenly before him. "I have been expecting you for more than an hour," she said. "But," catching sight of his pale and startling face, 'what is the matter? Are you ill?" "No but I—I don't understand. I did not expect to see you. I thought you had (fono away." "Gone away?" "Yes—with Jack Ripley," he said sternly.

And Joslo, to his surprise, broke into

a laugh. en, very grave and

Then, changing, she suddenly became grave and dignified. low could you have had such a

srv "H

thought of me, Charlie?" "Josie, was it you whom I saw leave the house about seven o'clock this evening, wearing a brown dress and veil?" "Yes, certainly!" "And you meta gentleman in the poplar lane—" "No, no!" she interrupted, again laughing. "That was my cousin, May Harding—Aunt Almeria's niece. We are of the same size and exchanged drosses in order to deceive aunt's watch-

igb. Whatdolful eyes. But come in and let me tell

you think of him, Dr. Newberry?" you all about it. I could not before, beI ing bound to secrecy." And then she told him how Jack and

mo, that seems stratsge I May had for years loved each other and

when—when vou are both so much at I been kept apart by Miss Chase, who had the Chases', lie was thero yesterday and I taken charge of May when a child and again this morning and this evening. I bad been toner a sort of domostic tyrant As thev live nearly opposite us, some of I Whenever Jack was in town, Miss us coufdn't help seeing him going in and I Chase kept a double watch upon the out. But of course you've heard Miss poor girl, and It was only by the scheme Josie mention hln»?M which had been so successful that May

Ottoman had really come again a-woo- match, but for^jveace's sake did not like

Miss Josephine Chase, she should to Interfere wit »a him to pay her the! inauced wife.

have permitted him to pay visits—she who WRS

his sister Almaria.

He will scold a little when he finds out my part in it," she said, "but will be delighted all the same that May is happy at last. No one could ever say a word against Jack, except that he was a little wild and mischievous at college, but he has sobered now and just settled down to the practice of law. And aa to whether Dr. Newberry will blame—'

She paused and looked up half archly, into his face.

Strains and external injuries are the chief causes of weak ankles and joints. By the free use of Salvation Oil a cure will be effected in a short time.

And there was a mask bait that night," yes. and they kept it up pretty lively until morning. You see ttqr weren't afraid of the early frost—knowing that all the druggists keep supplied ith Dr. Bull's Syrup, the old re-

(mr

™Ta uT, docw-r h. *».. «£,

«*arr*» for twelve

men

I tried various rem

bout benefit, when I saw

Ely** Cream Balm advertised In the Boston Badge*. I procured a bottle, and since the first day's nae hare had no more bleeding—the soreness la entirely e.—D. O. Davidson, with tbe Boston formerly with Boston Journal.

Dr. Elder's

telephone is

So, 1SS.

LOVE'S FIDELITY.

Besjnewfrartaa the son doth parch the Or wfcsse his beams do aot dtasotv* the la tampagate heat, where he to fait, and

In praenoe pnet ot people mad «r Set me in high, or yak low degree In longest night, or to the abcrte* day:

In dearest sky, or wharo clouds In lusty youth, or when my hairs Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in

In hill or dale, or in the foaming flood Thrall, or at large, atire whereso I droll. Sick or in health, in erQ fame or good,

Ben wfll be and only with this Content myself although my chance J» —From the Italian of

A Cold in the Head.

My landlady had been cleaning house, and that was the primary cause of that oold in my head, wnicb swelled my nose to twice its normal size, polished off my cheeks with crimson varnish and made my eyos look like boiled gooseberries. 1 am a bachelor 28, a respectable member of society, cashier in the firm of Sykes dfc Spend ington, on Wall street, and a native of New England by birth

I had just come to New York. I knew no other one in the great modern Babel, except Harry Spendington and when I came home one night and found my room all soapsuds below and all whitewash above, my heart sank forebodingly within me. "La, sir!" said Mrs. Chipfied, who 'did' for me,

4,it's

dry as a bone. There ain't

no occasion for a worry." But the next morning I wakened up with that indefinable oppression which is the sure precusor of the fiend called

»P

in mortal phraze "influenza!' Tuesday I sneezed my head nearly ofl and felt as if %Xorce pump were at work on my temples. Wednesday I contrived to drag myself to business, though I felt as if the bells were ringing in my head, and my nose swelling visibly, but on Thursday I succumed.

Mustard plaster," suggested the old bacbelor who had the room next to mine. Hop poultices," said Mrs. Chipfield.

Catnip tea," interposed a grizzly female, who poured tea, mended table linen, and was popularly supposed to have no other name than Rebecca.

At 9 o'clock that night, Harry Spendington, bursting into the room like a brisk April gale, found me sneezing and wheezing on the sofa. "Hello!" said Harry. "A cold in the head?" "I should rather think so" said I. "I thought something was up when you didn't show at the office to-aay," remarked Harry. "It isn't agreeable, eh?" 'Not especially so," said I. 'What nave yo tloned he.

you done about it?" ques-

Pretty much everything—mustard, hops, catnip, aconite." Stuff and nonsense!" said Harry. "Call in a regular physician. I'll send mine to-morrow." "All right," said I.

He sat and chatted about fifteen minutes longer and then took his leave. "Oh!" he called from the foot of the stairs, as, wrapped in my dressing-gowu, I stood in the door of my room, with a feeble attempt at the usual courtesies of life. "I forgot to tell you—"

I lost the termination of his speech In the banging of old Robinson's ac stairs, but I answered: "Oh, yes—of course!"

ioor up-

The next morning I was worse than ever. There I sat in my easy chair, my feet in a huge tin foot-tub, my form enveloped in a palm-leaf patterued chintz comforter, my eyes running, my nos* swollen to a curious, bulbous oence, my face flushed and a pocket handkerchiefs on the table me, when in walked—a young lady,

She was tall ap preUHj^dressed 1 dark green silk, with a basque of brown velvet sparkling all over with jet beads

Faucy my embarrassment! Fancy a bachelor of eight-and-twenty caught in such a fix as this!

I tried to get my feet out of the tin tub but remembering that that was probably the best place for them, splashed them back again in great confusion. "Pray don't disturb yourself!" said the young lady, as she sat down opposite me "No, ma'am, I won't," said I, "but I thiuk you have mistaken the room "Ob, no, I haven't!" said she. How do you find yourself?" "Very uncomfortable," I responded, with difficulty repressing a most soulrending sneese. "But pray excuse me— I havo not the pleasure of your acquaintance!" "Oh, that's all right!" said she. I'm Dr. Vincent." "You Dr. Vincent?" "Certainly," said she. "I have been Spendingtons' family physician for some time. Mr.

Harry sent me here. Allow our pulse." aha a

me to feel I "Fever high!

she said, with a little

nod of tbe head. "System unduly stimulated What have you been doing to yourself?"

I told her. "Wrong—all wrong!" said she. "We must begin on an entirely new system

And, drawing outs neat little memorandum book, she wrote off a perscrlp tion. "There!" said she, "I think this will set matters on sn entirely new footing.'

When she was gone I rang the bell with a jerk. "Mrs. Chipfield," said I, "fling this abominable not water outof thewindow. clothes. Let the bathtub

you ain't a-goin' to risk your

precious life with "I'm going to make a christian of myself, If lean," interrupted I, brusquely. "I won't be a spectacle to men and angels anyjonger."

Dr. Vincent's prescription worked like a charm. The next day when she oame, I was comparatively anew man. "Aha!" said she, with a pretty, con-

fratulatory

smile. "So you're better?

thought it would be so." •'I would give a good deal to blot terday out of your remembrance, tor," said I, gallantly. "Why?"

She looked at me ont of her velvety brown eyes with honest inquiry. "Because I must have looked very absurd." I answered, involuntarily, "On, that's nothing!" said she. "We doctors are used to all sorts of sights."

Well. I recovered—of course, I recovered with such a doctor I And then it occured to me how delightful It would be to have such a personage permanently In charge of me. In troth, and in fact, I was in love with Dr. Joeephlne Vincent—I who had always sneered at reforms, jeered at women assuming men's work and held that whoever stepped out of tbe beaten track of puddings and crochet-work unsexed herself.

I called there two or three times without making up my mind to tbe decisive proposal, and finally decided to write it.

So I spent tbe evening la composing a letter tost ahould say exactly what I meant and nothing more. ••Of course ahe will be giad to give up that wearing, dredging jpoeitkm of hers tor tbe borne I aan give her," thought

I was lust sealing tbe*envekpe when Biddy, toe housemaid, brought ap a note.

AT EVENING

"They feel like weddln' cards, sure!" •aid that penetrating young Milesian. And they were—tEe wedding cards Harry Spendington and Joeepnine Vlncent. "Hallo!" cried I, nearly jumping off my chair "the young scoundrel! He been beforehand with me!"

If I had been a girl I ahould have In dulged in a good crv. As it was, I gritted my teeth, used one or two strong expressions, and went for a prodigious long walk.

And so you see I am a bachelor yet. But if I ever fall sick again I'll send for Dr. Josephine. It's wonderful what knack these lady physicians have.

The' Doctors' Certificate.

Mrs. M. L. Rayne in Detroit Free Press. "Its dretful, dretful," groaned Farmer Lynn as the doctor left on his final visit "jes' when fall plowiu' 's got to be done an' there ain't nobody to do it. I never did see any thin' so onlucky. Its bad enuff to be stopped short in my career as 'twas, but to think I kin never do another stroke of work so long as 1 live it's jes' too bad." "Why, feyther, it ain't as bad as thet," said his wife, peering at him through her spectacles. "A broken arm ain't a goin' to invalidate you like that. S'posin' it hed been your neck."

Mought ea well hev been," said the farmer, shortly. "It's no use talkin', mother, I've paid the doctor for his 'pinion and there 'tis on black an' white, jes' as he writ it out himself. 'Taint a broken arm, eyether. It's a heap wuss. You kin see for yourself. There's the doctor's certificut."

Mrs. Lynn took the piece of paper and studied it carefully for some time. Then she laid it down.

I can't make head nor tail of it, Jeptha, but mebbe you can," she said, "It's tew bad that you should be so 'flicted, but you know the Lord loveth whom He chaseth, and it's only the wicked that go on and flourish like a bay rum tree. "Humph!" grumbled her husband, that's all very well, but who's to do the farm work, fodder the stock, and—oh— oh—oh, it's jes too bad! Me laid up like an old woman aud tied into a cheer!"

Dear, dear, it does seem untortnit," Mrs. Lynn said, with her usual ready sympathy, "but Jeptha, you must bear it like a Christian, if it isn't a relishiu' dose. It do seem queer that sech a affliction should happen to a man as active as you be. I reckon it's a speshial Providence,

Hev you writ to Rube, mother? asked the farmer shortly, moving distressfully in his arm chair.

"No, but I shouldn't te 'sprised, fayth er, if Hetty hed been writln'. I'll ask

her," and she stepped to the Btalr door, and called softly to some one above. "Here I am, Auntie," responded a cheery voice and the next moment light feet pattered down the stairs, and a pretty girl with cheeks as red as a June apple, and eyes like stars, stood in tu Kitcften.

This was niece Hetty, who was maka long visit to her father's brother, and had come from away up In Vermont. "Did you write to Rube 'bout your Uncle's affliction?" asked Mrs. Lynn. "No, Auntie Rube never asked me to write to him." "You've got to write now, Hetty,' said hor uncle, and tell him of my mis fortin, an' let nin know he's got to come home and set to work on the farm, whether it be to his likin' or not, an' tell him he moutht as well give up col-

excreH-J lege learnin', for oncet an' all." pile ofl "I—I thought he was studying to be a besiddj doctor," said Hetty timidly. 'So he wuz, but I've got to be a help-

Tf'SIJ pln "Tt Lord it's hard—for the rest of my days he got to work the farm to keep us from starving. There ain't nobody but him, and he hates farmin' like pizen. Taint to his likin'. but it is to mine, but I'll never do another stroke of work. An' me not turned 00 yet." "Is it so bad?" asked Hetty In a sym pathetic tone, "will your arm have to be taken off, Uncle Jeptha?" "Wuss than that, child, wuss than that," sighed the farmer. "Read that there certifieut and see what the doctor says, 'an he knows what he's talkin' about."

Hetty took up the piece of paper and studied it attentively, "I don't understand it," she said at last, "but it must be something dreadful. What does it mean?" "It means that I eiin never do another day's work again. Tho doctor ain'tcomin'any more—he ain't time to ride out nine miles to see me often. I asked him what it was, and he told me, and I got him to write it down in black and white. I don't want folks to think it's a ordinary sprain, an' Jeptha Lynn is too shiftless to work in his old age." "You'd better sit right down and write to Rube," suggested Hetty's aunt. "It'll be hard medicine, I'm main sure, for him to giv' up his learnin' an' come down from beln' a doctor, as he alius wanted to be but it can't be cured and must be endured, as the copy book used to say. You can write the letter and send it to-night."

So Hetty wrote a few words in a prim, neat hand, asking "Cousin Rube" to leave his studies and come home, for his father had fallen from the hay-mow and hurt his arm so severely that he would never be able to use it again.

The letter was a great surprise to Rube. He was both pleased and disappointed. He wanted to go home and see them all and become better acquainted with his pretty cousin, who was a new member in the household but to go in this way and relinquish his fond hopes of becoming a graduate at the next term of the medical college, that was very hard to do? He was very sorry for his father who had never been sick in his life, but he was not as bad as Hetty be-

i*n out from the city on the first train, but said nothing to his mates about leaving college, when he reached the farm Hetty was at the door—acei denUy, of course—end was shyly glad to 900 him*

How is father?" he asked after the

^'"i^eadfulfv low-spirited," Hetty answered, "And oh* Rube—I mm& cousin—he will never do another day* work in his life, and you know he just loves the fenn." "That's a funny thing to love," said Rube, with a saucy look, end then he went in, kiseed his mother end would here shaken bends with hie father, but Jeptha lust shrieked aloud"Don't tech me! It will kill m«! Pm all broken up an' crippled, en' ainjt goin' ever to be anything but a niin. There's tbe doctor's certificut reed it be knows." •Certificate?" said Rube,"what about? What did be give you a certificate fort I don't eee what he meant. Are you •ore yon under stood him?'* "Reed it," commanded his father, with woe-begone took, "bein'ee you're meet a doctor yotuiwlf, yoaTI eee it

Bube, •, it1* too bed." And Mr*. Lynn

fATtbWi wiped away teer, Rube's face was aleo very IP*T*' father, bundled In ahawls and comfort-

MATT.

His

era, did not much resemble the hearty, stalwart man he had left when he went away to college. He opened the paper with a perplexed look and read it aloud. As he proceeded his face brightened. When he had finished he broke into a merry laugh. This was what he read: "You have suffered a compound com* miduted fracture of the elbow. The olecranon process having been seperated from the nlna is displaced by the contraction of the triceps, and it is doubtful if recovery is not attended by auchylosis."

When Rube oould speak without laughinsr, he said: "That is nothing, father, but an attack of doctor's Latin. You have simply a fractured elbow—auchvlosis means only a stiffening of the joint. Why, you could go out to the barn and fodaer the cattle now, if you wanted to—it would be better than sitting around rolled up like a mummy. I'll have you all right in a week—I can stay that long"—and he glanced at Hetty, who looked at the ceiling. "Sakes alive!" exclaimed his father, admiringly, "it's a fine thing to knowLatin! I was that mixed up with them big words that I wuz as scared ez your mother wuz. I'm right glad I sent for you. Rube." "So am I, father," announced Rube, like a dutiful son, and if he looked at Hetty, who can blame him? We were all young once. When Rube returned to college his father had come out of the slough of despond and was almost well again. He took back with him that remarkably pompous piece of medical lit erature, tho "cirtificut," and something else—the loving heart of his cousin Het ty. But he left his own as a pledge that he would soon return.

POOR LITTLE MOTHER

[Frank Clarke Rose, in Chicago 8at» Herald.] "Is this the city prison, sir?" A sweet, trembling voice thus addressed me. I turned aud beheld a little woman in a shabby black dress and thread bare coat. A small rusty bonnet covered ahead of soft bro^r.n hair sprinkled with strands of gray. A pair of blue eyes like the heavens above, so timid and sorrowful, looked appealingly into my face. There was something so sweet and plaintive in the little woman's face that I paused for a moment .in spite of myself before I answered her. She could not have been more than 40, yet the lines on her face, and little pinchedup mouth denoted many a hard struggle with poverty and some deep-hidden sorrow. "The city prison? this way, I'll show you."

I led the way up a pair of stairs into the building. "Who do you want to see?" "Pardon me, I wish to go into the prison, that's all." A slight flush spread over the sad face. "Forgive me." I said: "here Is the officer in charge." But for my life I oould not withdraw.

She approached tho guardian of the prison and said: "Please, sir, I want to see my son. I was informed this morning tnat he is here. His name is Edward Scott,

Bir

can I see him?" "What, Scott," said the burly officer. "That young tough? yes, he is here and he's good for five years, and serves him right, too." "Oh! dear," came in trembling accents from her lips—but she was la very brave woman. This little mother—blest with the truest and noblest heroism—that which can ondure and suffer in silence.

The officer paused for a moment, then said: "Is ho your son, ma'am? he's in a bad tlx and deserves it, too? "Yes, sir," caino from the littlo mother, "he Is. O, I hope It is not

bad. I

know he's wild, poor boy, but if you only understood him, sir. He can't help it he takes his passion from his poor father who was killed at Antietam, but he's been a kind son to me,' sir, and— and—can't anything be done for him?'' The sweet blue eyes welled up with tears, but she was brave and choked back tho big lump that was In her throat. "You want to see him, do you?" "Yes, sir, please: you must know, sir, he is my only child, and ho takes care of me, and niccly, too but when he meets some of his wild friends and takes a drink, it aflects him, sir, but he's not BO

much to blame for that—It was his ioor father's weakness and he inherits it from him. Oh. my poor boy If you only knew him lie's so kind and handsome and—and." Here the poor little mother broke down and sobbed.

The big officer coughed and looked sort of queer for a moment, then said: Forgive me, ma'am, I didn't know he was vour son hope for the best. Come, I'lf show you in." "Thank vou, sir oh! thank you. I'm sure you have a mother and that iyou love her dearly and the little woman placed her hand on the big officer's arm softly.

He turned around and looked down on her, tbe hard lines on his face softened, and he answered hor in a voice as If speaking to a little child:

Yes, I nad a mother once, but she is an angel now such a one as you will ho some day. Come iu, poor littlo woman,

It seemed to me that a heavenly light on the little mother's fa was shlnnin as she walk down the Ion see ber foolish and waywai

sksiife

ace to

Oh! men, you who have

got a mother with hoops of Bask in her

to cherish, grasp her love steel while yet you may pure and unselfish love before she leaves you and passes over the dark river into the sunlight of futurity.

la Consumption Inewrabl.

Read the following: Mtff. H. Morris, Newark, Ark., says: down with 'riHd an

Abscess of Lungs," and friHds and physicians pronounced me an Incurable Consumptive. Began taking Dr. King's New Discovery for Consumption, am now on my third bottle, and able to oversee the work on my farm. It is the finest medicine ever made."

Jesse Middle, Decatur, Ohio: "Had it not been for Dr. Sling's New Discovery for Consumption I would have died from Lung Troubles. Was given up by doctors. Am now in best of health. Try it. Sample bottles free at Carl Krietenstien's Drug Store, s. w. corner 4th and Ohio streets. 5

Klectrlc Bitter*.

This remedy is becoming so well known and so popular as to need no special mention. All who have used Electric Bitters sing the same song of praise.—A purer medicine does not exist and it is guaranteed to do all that is claimed. Electrio Bitters will cure all diseases of the Liver and Kidnevs, will remove Pimples, Bolls, Salt Rheum and other affections caused by impure blood. Will drive Malaria from the system as well as cure all Malarial fevers. For cure of Headache, Constipation and Indigestion try Electric Bittets. Entire satisfaction guaranteed or money refunded. Price 50 cts. and $1.00 per bottle at Carl Krietenstein, s. w. corner4th and Ohio streets.

Rttcklen'a Arnica Salve,

The Beat Salve in the world forCuts, Bruises, Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corus, and ..... 1 Plies, give 25c. per box. For sale by Carl Krietensteln, a W Cor. 4th and Ohio.

HOW I SUFFERED

Seventeen years from a Skin Disease. Could notwnlk or dress myself. A mass of diseases l'rom head to foot. Cured iu eight weeks by the Cutlcura Remedies.

At the age of three months a raah (which afterwards proved to be ecsema or salt rheum) made It* appearance on my face. A physician \va» called. Ho Mild teething was the cruse he prescribed soiuo cooling medicine, but the sores spread to my ears and head. Another M. D. was called. He professed to know all about the case, called it "King's Evil," and prescribed gunpowder, brimstona and lard mixed Into a salve but the disease continued. They could not do anything with it. Another prescribed borax, water, and flour another, IlnBeed poultices. Nono of them did me any good at all. but made me worse. The disease continued unalmted It spread to my arms and legs, till I was laid up entirely, aDd from continually sitting on the floor on a pillow my limbs contracted so that I lost all control of them, aud was utterly helpless. My mother would havo to lift mo out and Into bed. I could get around the house on my hands and feet, aud had to wear a sort of a dressing gown. My hair had all matted down or fallen off, ana my head, face, and ears wore one scab, and I had to have a towel on my head all the time in tho summer to keep the flies olT. My parents consulted a prominent physician and surgeon here In Chicago (the other pliysiolans before mentioned were of lhiudus nnd Hamilton, Canada). He said he rould do nothing for me. Ha wanted to cut the sinews of my legs so that 1 could walk but I would not let him, for if I did get bettor 1 would have no control of them.

The disease continued In this manner until I was seventeen years old, and one day iu January, 1870,1 read an account of your Cutlcura Kemenlos. It described my case exactly that I thought, as a last resort, to give them a trial.

When I first applied them I was all raw and bleeding,from scratching myself, but I went asleep almost lmmedlntely, something I had not done for years, the el!Vct was so sooth Ing.

In about two weeks I could stand straight, but not walk, I was so weak, but my sores were nearly well. As near a* I can judge tho Cutlcura Remedies cured mo in about six or eight weeks, and up to date (I. e. from Januury, 1879, to January, 1W7) I havo not been sick in any way, or nave had the least signs of tbe disease reappearing on me. w. J. MCDONALD,' 8783 Dearborn St., Chicago, His., June 90, *87.

Cutlcura Remedies are sold everywhere. Price, Cutlcura, 60 cents Tlesolvent, 11.00 Soap, 26 cents. Prepared by the Potter Drug aud Chemical Co., Boston, Mass. Send for "How to Cure Skin Diseases." 04 pages, 60 Illustrations, and 100 testimonials.

PfAfPLKH, Blackheads, r*d. rough, ohapJ.i.U ped and oily skin prevented by Cutl-

Constitutional Catarrh.

No single disease has entailed more suffering or hastened the breaking up of the constitution than Catarrh. The sense of smell, of taste, of sight,of hearing, the human voice, the mind,—one or more, and sometimes all, yield to Its destructive influonce. The poison it distributes throughout the system attacks every vital force, and breaics up ths most robust of constitutions. Ignored, because but little understood, by most physicians, lmpoteutly assailed by quacks and charlatans, those suffering from It have little hone to be relieved of It this side of the grave. 11 Is time, then, that tho proper treatment of trils terrible disease by remedies within the reach of all passed into hands at once competent and trustworthy. Tho new and hitherto untried method adopted by Dr. Hanford in the preparation of his RADICAL CUJIK baa won the hearty approval of thousands. It Is Instantaneous In afTbrdlng relief in all head oolds, sneezing, snuffling and obstructed breathing, and rapidly removes the most oppressive sytnptons, clearing the head, sweetening the breath, restoring the senses of smell, taste aud hearing, and neutralizing the constitutional tenduncv of the disease towards the lungs, liver and kldneyn

San ford's Radical Cure consists of one bottle of the Radical Cure, one box Catarrhal Solvent,and one Improved Inhaler, neatly wrapped In one package, with full directions price, 91.00.

Potter Drug A Chemical Co., Boston,

KIDNEY PAINS,

Strains and Weaknesses,

Relieved In one minute by that marvelous Antidote to Pain. Inflammation and Weakness, the Cutlcura Antl-Paln Plasters. Tbe first and only pain-killing strengthening plaster. Especially adapted to in

stantly relieve and speedily cure Kidney and Uuerlne Pains and Weaknens. Warranted vastly superior to all other plaster*. At all druggists, 35 cents five for 11.00. or, poo tags free, of Potter Drug and Chemical Co., Boston, Mass.

"Where are you going my pretty maid "I'm going washing, sir," she said "What hold you in your hand so tight.

With a face so gay and a step so light?" "That which all prize their dearest treasure-

Makes washing and scrubbing only a pleasure, Keeps the clothes so clean and white iThe doors and windows a beautiful sight For your own household you'll get it,

I hope,

Fwe cents buys a bar of SANTA CLAUS SOAP." SOLD BY ALL GROCERS.

Na4s eeljr by

N. K. Fairbank ft Co. Chicago, 111.