Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 19, Number 28, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 January 1889 — Page 2

•J&CHANET.

By J. W. DE FOBEST.

[Copyright.]

S

1

"TYliat a singular odor!" soliloquized \n»s Holcum, snuffing the air with slight tremor of disgust about nostrils.

a

her

She said odor instead of smell, because she was a tcacher of several years' standing in one of the con::^on schools of New York, and had learned in the exercise of her profession to express herself with elegance of the Johnsonian species. She was accustomed to remark to her scholars "Before yon speak, always consider not only your thoughts, but also the language in which you propose to {five them utter ance."

She was at this moment ascending the third staircase of the cheap, plain, and even seedy lodging house in which she had her parlor—bedroom—kitchen, or, in other words, her one room iu which she studied, slept and did such small cooking as was needed for her tea and breakfast. In this simple fashion she had lived for years, not merely because her earnings were small, and not at all because she was stingy, but mainly because she^ was a noble, unselfish woman, who had it at heart to educate a youthful orphan cousin. "It is burning charcoal,' she added after an instant. "Can it be th^t some poor mortal is seeking his death f"

School teaching alone had not given her the wisdom to reach this suspicion. She was a reader of novels she had an imagination and a native longing after the unusual she was capable of conceivings suicide and of conceiving herself as saving him. Where a practical, common sense man would merely have smelt fire, this fanciful, impulsive woman scented a tragedy of the heart. We shall see which of these two characters best suited the exigency that was now agonizing in this bare and musty old lodging house. The wildest imagination is sometimes the truest common sense. "It may be that young foreigner," thought Janet Holcum. She ran up another flight of stairs, hurried along a musty, dusty passage and stopped before a door marked by dirty fingers. Timorous and modest, she looked at it with hesitation as well as anxiety but the charcoal fumes were stronger here, and began to make her sick and faint she felt that sho could not hesitate long. After rap-

Eer

ing and receiving no answer, she put mouth to the keyhole and called, also without effect. "Oh dear! what shall I do?" she groaned, confident now that a tragedy was passing within, and looking about her vainly for help. Sho had already learned that this fifth story was unoccupied except by the pale, slovenly, hag gard young foreigner, whose step she had frequently heard, pacing to and fro for hours, over her head. As she remembored that he was a man, and that she had never been Introduced to him, she thought of running down stairs and summoning somo other man to save him. But the poisonous air demanded instant action she tried the lock unavailingly, and then flung herself desperately against the door the miserable bolt catch gave way, and she was within. Unable to breathe in tho mcphitic atmosphere of the room, she rushed across it, opened a window and thrust her head out. Looking back from this position, she saw something which made her shudder.

There was a painter's easel on the easel was a picture with its face turned Irgm hto} behind the eas^l, on the floor ©f one confer of the room, was a wretched bed, and on this, the chest and head oonoealed by the picture, lay the motionless form of a man. The moment Janet had drawn one long breath of the out of door air she hastened to this terrible corner. No time to look at the man no leisure to whether he were alive or dead she him by the shoulders, dragged him to tho window and seated him by it in a chair. Her onlv distinct consciousness as to his condition was that the temple which dropped against her cheek was not entirely cold.

But the appearance of the sukkle, as she held him up in the chair, wa6 alarming. His face ash colored, his lips blue and contracted, his heed drooping helplessly on one shouldor, he seexuea to be already In another world. She scarcely ncfticod that he did not look to be more than 25 years of age that his long, curling yellow hair, although neglected, was beautiful that his wasted and ghastly features were classic in outline. Two or three times she cried loudly for assistance: "Help I Murder I" But outside' thore was only a wilderness of roofs inside, the musty old lodging house seemed another desert. She was left alone with hor awful question of death or life.

Shs tea* left atone with her avcful question of death or life. Presently her enigma responded. The response was only a sigh, Dut it came ftom tho sidb of the tomb it was the triumph of nature over supernature, tho hail of a soul returning from the shades. The man was already breathing, and it was not long before he opened his eyes. Into these eyes Janet sent her sweetest and most pitiful smile, seeking thereby to encourage the sick and sorrowful spirit within. 3Sot a word was uttered, for the QUO was as yet too ill to speak, and the other felt that here was a misery too profound to bo questioned. After awhile, seeing that her ant could hold up his head, J&uet haste:- to the pan of charcoal, which was still burning, and deluging it with water from a r, extinguished its poisonous When she returned to the window the invalid looked in her face with so much intelligence that sho ventured to address him. "You will be better soon," she said. "The air of the room is becoming purified. It was that charcoal which made you QLW

"Yes, it was to sllarcoal." replied the young man, with a marked German ac cent. "I hope that you will be moro careful about it in future," she continued, believing that she was talking to a would be suicide, but not quite certain of it. "I subbose so," was the weak voiced, indifferent, non-committal answer.

She looked anxiously into the fine face which was now beginning to reassume somewhat of its natural color and beauty. "If you are suffering under any trouble." she said, "I trust and desire that you will tell jno of it. Perhaps I fan aid you." "I haf but ono drabble," he replied. "It is life."

Wicked as the sentiment seemed to her, the man who uttered it did not seem wicked, but only pitiable. In the quivering droop of his lip, and in the fixed but unseeing stare of his blue eyes, there was a profound anguish and a calm desperation which made her think of the unsounded. motionless waters of the Dead sea covering ruined cities. She had never before seen such sorrow at least she had never before seen sorrow expressed with such frankness and the spectacle impressed her the more terribly because of its novelty.

The youth now rose, steadied himself with difficulty, rubbed his forehead and his eyes, struck his hand repeatedly on the back of his neck, obviously confused, dizzy and in pain. Janet felt that feminine delicacy ordered her to leave him but she did not dare, lest he should rekindle his charcoal. Turning away in order to gain time for reflection, she found herself near the easel, and she examined the picture. It was a landscape representing a scene on the North river which she haa visited and which she instantly recognized. Although unfinished, sho was so little a judge of painting that she did not perceive that, as she thought it beautifully done. Of a sudden it occurred to her womanly wit and sensibility that hero was something whereby she might gain a hold upon this victim of despair, and draw him back to a willingness to live.

Did you do this?" she asked. "Are you a painter?" His face brightened the merest trifle as he caught her look of interest. "Yes, I am a bainter," he answered.

Let me turn it to the light for you," he added, with a courtesy of manner strangely at variance with his coarse and even dirty clothing. "You see it is not vinished yet," he went on, looking kindly at her, as if he detected her ignorance of art and pitied her for it.

I know the place," she said, forcing a smile of encouragement. "I have had the pleasure of visiting it. How well you have represented it!" "So you haf peen there?" he replied, with just the faintest possible smile of gratification. "It is a pewtiful spot." "Why don't you sell it?"

What! sell it so? It is not vinished." Then why don't you finish it?" she added, trembling. with anxiety to make him promise to do so.

I haf not time," he said, his gloom returning. "Oh, but you have time," she urged eagerly. "You shall have time."

He eyed her meditatively, earnestly and solemnly, as if querying whether he should tell her his miserable story. While he hesitated this excellent Janet Holcum was wouli safety.

praying in her heart that heaven la guide him toward goodness and

See here," he said at last, "I will dell you someting. You haf saved my life. I will dell you why I wanted to die. I had no money. I could notjret food. I could not bay for my room, inod had drabbles ievore—over in Chermany. Und now I ad not a cent in my bocket. So at last I tires out, und I gives It up. I lights my sharooal, und I lies down to sleep it out. That is my shtory."

In spite of his strong German aooent he was sublime and terrible and pitiable. The tears rushed into Janet's eyes, and stepping suddenly forward she oaught ith his hands, as if she would prevent him by force from again attempting his life. 1 t'ank yon," was the simple of a man whose sensibility and qu enabled him to understand sympathy which had not been uttered.

You must not do this urged as soon as she could e_ see that ypu have friends. have time to finish your picture. I will help you sell it. Have yotueaten today?" ••Ihaf no abbedide."

she

I will

You shall

She understood that he had not eaten, and tho tears shone in her oyes agaih. "Come down to my room," sne said.

You must! You can take somo tea, at any rate. Come down and sit with me, at least, while 1 eat." "I am opliged," he answered as he followed her. "But you must excuse my abbearance," he added, glancing at his ragged clothing, stained with grease and daubed with paint. "I am not fit for the gombany of a lady." "I am"only a poor school mistress," she smiled. "And in you I can respect the artist."

Ho bowed with a courteous grace which gavo him tho air of a gentleman, in spite of his wretched raiment.

Arrived in her little parlor bedroom with this strange companion, Janet Holcum's heart fluttered. It was the first time that a man had been with her there alone. If visitors should arrive, what would they think? Of course it would be impossible to explain that here was a gentleman whom she had caught trying to commit suicide, and whom she had undertaken to cure of his self destroying promsities by means of tea and sympathy, oreover, what would this man himself think of her? Sho was squeamish about situations (and here wo come to a fact which I have not hitherto dared to mention)—well, she was squeamish because she was an old maid.

It is curious, but tone the less true, that a woman of 88 is usually more fastidious about appearances, and even about realities, than a girl of 18. Enlightening meditations, perhaps some dangers avoided, perhaps some scandals innocently incurred, a habit of life which has become a governing motive, are the explanations of this singular phenomenon. Well, Janet Holcum, being 88 years of age, blushed and was troubled at the thought of being alone with this handsomp man of 25, although he might be looked upon as little more than a ghost returned from beyond the grave. Presently her natural good sense, strength* a perfect uprightness of heart, came to hor support.

Pshaw!" sho thought, "I am old

enough to be his aunt besides, I am sav him :n death- Let'

tog him me, I ua

death. Let who will blame ing my duti

tT'"

Having had lunch that day, she had

pre sod to go without dinner, and conseq.—atly she had slight provision for meal. See might have run out to make leave and, im.

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a?

twit

portant than plenty.r She lighted her gas stove, got her tea to drawing, and set oui" a store of graham crackers, butter an cheese. Then followed a moderate repast and a conversation which lasted well into the evening

Drawn out by sympathy, the guest told his whole story. His name, he stated, was Ernst Rodolf Hartmann, and he was the youngest son of an official in the civil service of Prussia. Carried away by the liberal ideas so common among European students, he had attached himself, after leaving the University of Berlin, to a secret club of republicans, whose object was to substitute democracy for the Hohenzollerns. The club had been fer reted out by the police Ernst and two or three other members had been condemned to a brief imprisonment moreover, ha had been disinherited and disowned by his father, a furious loyalist. Worst of all, a beautiful girl to whom he was betrothed hijd, during his confinement, been driven or'coaxed into a marriage with some old baron. This last sorrow, which he related with childlike candor and simplicity, made Janet Holcum blush to her ears, even while her heart throbbed with pity.

When ho rose to return to his room, he appeared to be at least temporarily reconciled to the struggle of life. "I will dry it a leetle longer, if you will gif me a hand," he said. "I will go to bainting again." "Oh! how can you talkof it so coolly!^ she exclaimed with heartfelt solemnity and even with horror. "Don't you know that what you have done today is very wicked? Forgive me!" she added instantly, remembering how miserable he had been, and looking with pity at his wasted face. By the way, she talked very little of her Johnsonese to this man for in the first place, she supposed that he, being a foreigner, might not understand it and secondly, she had to be so earnest with him that only the simplest words seemed suitable. "What could I do?" he asked. "A gentleman may not pe a peggar. Pesides, I was not a bainter at home. Mein faders were to make of me a panker. Bainting was merely my fancy. I had no hope of success in it. What could I do?" "Will you promise to come, to take breakfast with me?" "V"-?* "I bromise—upon my honor." "Remember, now—upon your honor! Good night."

He took her hand, and before she could guess what he meant to do, he kissed it. Notwithstanding the perfect simplicity of his manner, notwithstanding that the action was obviously a mere expression of civility and gratitude, Janet Holcum, who had never before had her hand kissed, blushed again until it seemed to her that her hair was turning scarlet. Without noticing her confusion, this ragged gentleman said sweetly "Good night," and bowed himself out of the room.

Prom this good night forward Janet was burdened and blessed with another labor of love. She had a suiciao to reform a, soul without hope to fill with hope a man without work to provide with work a lover of lager to satisfy with black tea a brand to snatch from all sorts of burnings. It was not only a heavy load to carry, but a delicate one to handle. Her orphan, as she soon began to call him, must not eat in her room for fear of Mrs. Grundy. She must content herself with letting him go to cheap restaurants for his dinner, and with occasionally carrying him a cup of tea to wash down the wry broad which she knew was his only supper. As for converse, she firmly invited him to see her every Sunday evening she sometime dropped into his den to look at his work and cheer him. on with it oftener still, she took a walk with him in the hall or an evening promsnade in the streets.

She was proud of herself, and jet ashamed of herself. It struck her aa almost indelicate that she should support a man, especially a young and handsome one. Moreover, her labor or love was a fearful expense, compared with her small income. She was soon obliged to draw on her savings bank deposit, and that had always been kept in a consumptive state by the needs of her girl cousin. At first she thought of getting up a subscription for her painter, or of Interesting some rich school committeeman in his behalf but very shortly she took such a fancy to him that she did not want any one else to earn a claim to his gratitude and so she went on paying out ner savings for his necessities. Wnen winter arrived and fuel must be had, she bought Jit for him, although he tried to do without. Next came an overcoat and a pair of mittens and some heavy underclothing, because she could not bear to see him walking the streets with a red nose and fingers. It was in vain for him to refuse she absolutely forced him to take.

Meantime small profits from his brush. The picture which she had thought perfect really "had but five or six days' work upon it, and needed a month more. And wnen it was done it brought oifly $25. It was of no use for her to scold the picture dealer for his sharpness, and to endeavor to move his pity by telling him the tale of the German's poverty. The man of art replied that it was not a known name that paintings sold in the American market mainly by force of reputation that he had his own living to make, and that she might take the money or leave it. "If he can do a figure picture, and do it first rate," said this rational monster, "I can be more liberal with him. There are mhny landscapes! Every American artist can make landscapes."

On this hint Ernst commenced a figure picture. It was his forte he had simply tried a landscape because he had judged that to be the favorite genre in America he had known that he could not hope to excel in it. A beautiful group was soon sketched, representing a scene from King Philip's war, the interior of a cabin, lighted by its own flames, a beautiful girl in the grasp of Wampanoag warriors, a father and brother struggling manfully against her captors, and in the near background, faintly seen through the shattered door, a coming relief of Puritan riders. Janet Holcum, the patriotic New Englander, was delighted with what she thought already a perfect success, and wanted to sell the group as it was. "No," judged Ernst. "I cannot aword io waste virst impressions. This is the most diwicult bart of the bainting, though the quickest. But it will need a long time tomake it goot enough. It will need all winter," he concluded, with a piteously apologetical glance at Janet. "Go on, she said, flushing with the noble heart beat of self sacrifice as she caught sight of this mute appeal. "This time I know you will triumph. We can live till it is done.* "Heaven plessryoaP be replied, taking her hand and kissing it by force. are the noplest woman

The kiss and the praise blush than one often sees on su&h a. •allow face aa that of Janet. FVir we must oome now to a weighty secret w^ .muat make an avowal which la almost

it"

(ut

with dowering this poor ^rith her worldly wealth, Janet ady begtm to give him the treashich she had received direct from in. All the love which lies hidden heart of a good and pure old maid,

9

vast "abyss of sensibility which exin a feminine nature that has fc£&nd no natural outlet, had in her cJLse been stirred to the prcfoundest depths by the penniless, friendless, handsome, clever youth whom she had saved from 'death. Useless to struggle against the infatuation it had commenced too insidiously, as mere humanity then it had crept on too slyly, in the guise of mere charity. Oh, how cunning it had been! All at once tiiere was a flaming transformation,. and"she found herself the victim of a first passion, as much in love as if she were a young girl.

Resistf-'She tried in vain to do so. Run away? She could not give up her position, lest she should thereby fail to complete her cousin's education, and leave him to starve. Once more, self sacrifice though all her life had been a self sacrifice, she must go on with it she must lovetmd suffer and be silent. And so the mif4wiicf proceeded at a terrible rate, for every day added to its magnitude. What made things worse was that Ernst was nobly conscioife of his obligations, and profuse in thanks, in praises, in the most dolicate and charming attentions. If he met her on the street he took his hat entirdly off his comely head and saluted her as school ma'ams are not always saluted. If he walked with her he had the air of escorting a duchess. He would leave his beautiful labor at any moment to greet her return to the house with a smile or to run on her errands. His whole deportment toward her was a continual burning of incense.

She had never before known such a finished gentleman more than that, she had neTOr met a sweeter and finer nature. She comprehended at last that even his attempted suicide was a proof of his high naif respect and sense of honor, inasmuch as it was an effort to escape from tho degradation of living by incurring debts which he could not discharge. That stoical declaration, "If I could haf baid my room rent I would haf gone on another month," seemed to her now something like a patent of nobility. Unaware of her own grandeur of character, she worshiped his grandeur of character. Finally, she worshiped his genius, which had begun to show her the universe of glory that there is in art, and which was able to seize ideas scarcely perceptible to her unpracticed (esthetic vision, and place them before her in the resurrection robes •f drawing and color.

Ah welll she was desperately in love with him, and she could not help admitting it to her accusing conscience, and could not put aside the scornful finger of her sense of womanly shame. But aid he know it? As yet she was sufficiently herself to hope that he did not. Although she could not meet him without feeling a blush run through her whole face, although his praises and the touch of his hand made her tremble from head to foot, she trusted that she was keeping her fiery secret. And so she was: a young man does not easily suspect that a woman thirteen years his senior has a passion for him and if Ernst noticed her tremors and changes of color, he imputed them to woman delicacy and Puritan shyness. While Janet, locked in her own room, was looking in the glass at her pole face, high cheek bones, square jaws, straight mouth, and incipient wrinkles, while she was wishing with both tears and shame that all that supportable plainness were beauty ttfld youth, he, steadily at work, did not tiartnk of her at all, or only thought of ,her as his 'goot vriend.' His uandsome countenance, now pink and white in color as well as classic in outline, was not shadowed by the slightest cloud from the fires of love, unless indeed he remembered now and thou his lost jungfrau in faderland.

About tho time that ''The Rescue" (as Joust christened the scane from Philip's war) reached its finishing point, Ernst encountered an American artist named Stanley. Stanley was a portrait painter in high fashion, who made $6,000 a year and spent it all on himself and some poor relations. Too generous and soft hearted to save money, ho wanted to study in the galleries of Europe without ever having tho first spare dollar for the voyage, and talked of launching Into genre pictures or "high art" without ever being able to give up his pot boiling labor in kit-kats. The result of t.hu existence, acting upon this kindly spirit, was that while Stanley envied the chances of mors famous artists, he honestly admired their productions.

Meeting Ernst at the Academy, be fell into chance conversation with him, liked his naive and badly pronounced but judicious criticisms, went with him to his lodgings and fell in love with "The Rescue." His florid face flushed crimson with enthusiasm as he exclaimed: "By Jovel you are on the road to fame. You needn't have apologized for your room. This picture furnishes it like a palace. I wish I was a poor devil. I wish I could live in this style and try to do something good. But I can't. I must dress in a certain way and go to certain parties and live in a certain quarter. If I didn't I should lose my run among certain people. And then," he added, as he thought of his mother and aunt, "then there would be trouble."

Thenceforward Stanley came often to Ernst's room to watch the progress of "The Rescue" and to tell him that it was sure of success. It was not long, either, before he gave the young German another startling piece of information. "That old girl downstairs is in love with yon„:' he said..

"That old gfti dovm dair* is in love with

"What old cnrlT* asked Ernst, staring with the calm innocence of a child. "Miss Holcum.'* "I hope you are misdaken," replied the German, gravely and almost solemnly, aa If he already perceived aa awful duty before "I should think jrou might see it,"

Stanley, "I saw it the first evenwe called on her. It was plain enough

iy when she traveled up here to look at the picture. She can't come near yon without coloring and shaking."

Ernst became still more solemn, and was evidently in profound thought. "You must be careful and not trifle with hey young affections," Stanley continued, with a rather hard hearted smile, such as we accord to the heart troubles of old maids. "I shall not'dryvle with theA,'* replied Ernst, with a seriousness which silenced the American.

During Stanley's next visit Ernst said to him: "I have peen seeing for myself, und I pelievo you are right. "Right? On. about the shadow?" "No. Apout Miss Chanet Holcum. I pelieve she is in love with me." "Well, what are you going to do?" laughed Stanley. "I haf put one thing to do. If she wish to marry me, I must marry her. I owe her my life. *1 owe her this picture, which you say is goot. I haf lived on her money. As a man of honor I must sacrifice myself to her that is, if she wishes it. What else can I do?" "Good Lord! don't be a fool," remonstrated Stanley. "You don't love her, of course." "I haf tho very highest resbect for her. She is an atmirable woman." "Yes. I know. I suppose so. But this is carrying respect and gratitude a little too far. She is twelve or fifteen years older than you. You could not be happy with her. Come now! don't be hasty." "I will not be hasty. It all debends on whether she lofes me a great teal. We will see."

When Ernst, convinced that Janet "lofed him a great teal," felt himself bound to declare an affection for her and ask her to be his wife, the poor, lonely, hitherto unloved girl was fairly broken down by the revelation. She burst into tears, threw herself on her old, hard sofa, buried her faco in the threadbare cushion, and sobbed out a spasm of mingled joy and terror. "Oh! can this be true?" she finally burst forth, when she becamo conscious of his hand in hers. "Is it true?" she demanded, sitting up and looking eagerly at him. "If it isn't, take it back. Don't tell it me any more. It would kill me— to find out it isn't true—oh, it would kill me." "It is endirely drue, my tear Chanet," was the adorable falsehood of the chivalrous German. "I owe all to you. jMy life will not pay the debt. But I do not insist upon marriage excebt when you wish it. You must chudge for yourself when.it will be brudent."

At this moment Janet caught a view of herself in her mirror. Flushed with joy and love, sho looked almost handsome, and it seemed to her for a moment that she was young and desirable. Drawn by Ernst's pitying embrace, she believed that it was the embrace of affection, and she let her head fall upon his shoulder with the words, "Oh, my darling!"

Henceforward they were engaged, though when they would be married neither of them could say, not even the old and wise (only half wise) Janet. With her, life was a delicious dream, forgetful altogether of the hard past and careless often of the doubtful future. With him, life was a point of honor and of duty, an obedience to self respect and a rendering of obligations. His ways were naturally so caressing, and he was so conscientiously assiduous in his attentions to her, that he thoroughly deceived even the suspiciousness of ner humble and shy nature. In the main she believed entirely in his affection, amazing as the acquisition seemed to her, and mudh as she doubted her worthiness of it. It is quite possible that there was not at that time in New York a happier woman than this almost penniless old maid, betrothed to a young artist who was encumbered with debts, and who did not love her. Such tire the joys of this world: half of them, at least, delusions the other half transitory.

At last "The Rescue" woe sold. Stanley went.with Ernst to the picture dealer's demanded, with much pomp of manner, a private audience exposed the canvas in the best light, and asked $500 for it. "It is worth it, "confessed Mr. Moineau. "Only there is no name. If you would put your name to it, Mr. Stanley?" "Minel I am only a portrait painter." "Yes. But you are known. It would sell the picture." "Gif him the name," interposed Ernst, with the eagerness of a beggar grasping at alms. "It's a downright swindle," said the generous American. "I couldn't do such a group to save my life. I won't take the credit of it." "Both names?" suggested the dealer in genius.

It was agreed to the picture went on the market as the joint production of Stanley and Hartmann. The latter, perfectly satisfied, and indeed overjoyed, pocketed the $500 the former, in spite of his private disclaimers, pocketed something considerable in the way of glory.

At Ernst's request Janet Holcum hod kept a strict account of her expenses in his behalf and although ho had used sharp economy, the balance against him amounted to $430. On reaching home, he went to her room, gave her a smllo of childlike joy in response to her smile of anxiety, and tossed the sum of his earnings into her lap. Instead of hailing his good fortune with gladness, she seemed to shrink from the money, laid it coldly on a table, rose to her feet with a pale face, and said in a strange voice, "Well— you are free." "No, my tear Chanet," he replied. "I am your slave." "That is not what I want," she stammered, trembling visibly. "I cannot submit to any such understanding. Mr. Hartmann, it is my duty to tender you your liberty." "My tarl'ng Chanet, what does this mean?" a*iuid Ernst, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her to him. "My self respect impels me to it," she said, beginning to cry. "I fear that yon proposed to me out of a sense of obligation. The obligation is now canceled. It was weak in me to accept you. I must make amends for it. Indeed, indeed I must—you are free."

The gentlest caresses, the sweetest protestations answered her and overwhelmed her fainting resolution. After a minute, and a very little minute it was, too, she could not help letting her head go on his shoulder and sobbing out: "Oh! can I believe you? You make me so perfectly happy that I must believe you. Oh, you aze my life, my alL I worship you." ^. Oontinufd on Seventh Page. -us Yf

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am

been troubled with

kidney complaint §nd lameness for many yoars could not ilresa myself for without help. Now I ajp free from all paia and soreness, and %Vle to do my own hovfsework. I owe|pay thanks to Electric Bitters for hiding renewed my youth, and removodlpompletely all disease and pain." Tria bottle, 50c. and $1 at Carl Krie tens tern's Drug Store, cor. 4th and Ohio. 3 (4)

YES, 149 Power's Block. Roch­

ester, N. Y. nov. 10-eow

1

COMPOUND EXTRACT

The Importance of purifying the blood cannot be overestimated, for without pure blood you cannot enjoy good health.

At this seasi good medicine the blood, an^' your confldduct strengthens and an appetite,i and It eradlcatefu?lseas

iearly every one needs a purify, vitalize, and enrich 1's Sarsaparllla is worthy

It is peculiar in that it lids up the system, crv&tes es the digestion, while

Give it a trial. is sold by all druggist*. & Co., Lowell, Mass.

Hood's 8&*aparl Prepared by 0.

IOO Dose

One Dollar

'ilulesare a most cerlin and speedy cure for 411 diseases that arise from Malaria, Chills Snd Fever, etc. The

aci directly in the blood, penneatlng the whole of the circulation, killing thet germs that produce fevir, torpid liver, con­

stipation kidney troubles, sick hcadachc rheumatism, neuralgia,etc They are a

aptidote for these coraaints have never led for more than 15 ydars. They act like mkglc on all malarial

sickness, fence they are tho only positive

for nil Blooi Impurities known. They will purify and clense the

system, wii has failed

,n everything else nd as

\jiiiiioS^,vnnojss(andthereproduced,tblngfever,eand|HthingIOil|I*"11l|l'/-Nf|

\\o Insd oln

ever,) like them

for their ^onderful effect#. Many huDdneds of thousands of old stubbofn ciutes have been cured by Moofre'sPilules, which all other remedies failed to touch. They sre a most valuable medicine to have on hand In the family 'they relieve Indigestion, clear the skin, act on the liver at once—hence there is no heed of the harmful cathartics. They are worth many times their cost to any family. Those who rely on Moore's Pilules are quickly distinguished by Ihelr bright appearance. elastic step, and the healthful glow upon their faces

Moore's Throat and Lung Lozenges are a most excellent lemedy,-nothing better—for Coughs, Colds. Hore Throat, Bronchitis..Whooping Cough and all affections of the throat and cheat. They are pleasant to the taste, and give instant relief. Put up In large 10 cent and 25 cent tin boxes—for Irritation of he throat there Is no remedy that begins to compare with them. Both remedies sold by druggists.

GRATKFUJ-—COMFORTING.

Epps's Cocoa

BRKAKFA8T.

"By thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations of digestion and nutrition, and by a careful application of the fine properties of welwjelect«a lion oi mc "v-r

VV

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 ijiiib, such articles of diet that a constitution may be gradually built up until strong en"' (h resist every tendency to disease. Hu reds of subtle maladies are floating around as ready to attack wherever there is a weak point, we ma^"e*cape"many a fatal shaft by keeping ourselves well fortified with pu« Woodanda nourished fnuzis. —[Civil Bervloe

Madlffsimply with boiling water or milk Sold only in half

pound

tins J^grocers, la­

beled thus: JAMES EPPS WHouoopsthlc CbMnWfc London, Kng

TP POBsfii

M.WlAVKK SO* our smhortwrt sgmUfc

mm®