Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 19, Number 32, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 2 February 1889 — Page 2

THE_MAIL.

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

A LIFE LESSON.

There tittle girl don't cry: They have broken your doll, I know Aiui your tea set blue,

And yoar play house, too. Are things of the long a^o But childish troubles will soon pass by, Therel little girl don't cry!

There! little girt don't cry! They have broken your slate, I know And the glad wild trays

Of your school girl days Are things of long ago But life and love will soon come by, There] little girl don't cry!

There! little girl don't cry! They have broken your heart, I know And the rainbow gleams

Of your ycfuthful dreams Are things of the long ago But heaven holds ail for which you sigh. There! little girt don't cry! —James Wbltcomb Riley.

The Carnival of Crime

By FBA2TK HOWABD HOWE and LAS0ELLE8 OHESTEE MAXWELL

Everybody knows Kitty Clyde. That is. all the fellows do. Her studio is on the top floor of the Wales, where she does not mind your smoking an occasional

cigar Kitti

irette if you are well acquainted, tty paints a very nice picture. Not great, you know, but just a pretty piece of genre work that hangs well in a drawing room, and is not a check to frivolous conversation. There isn't a better little woman in Gotham than Kitty herself. We all call her Kitty—the fellows do. She writes occasionally for the press about art, music and the higher education for women.

So much for Kitty. And myself? Well, hoping, like Paul Pry, I don't intrude, this I. A man about town, with a weakness for Bohemian life—a weakness -that may surprise you when I tell you that I'm a fellow of fashion, with some of the best cards of Gotham in my mirror. But I like cheerful company, and the jolly quilldrlver8 furnish it, without caring to follow me out of Bohemia into my own world. So I manage to let my associations there lie perdue, as it were. In truth, the beggars are not pushing. They have a dignity of their own. If they are at times a bit familiar they don't mean to », if I escort Mrs. Potip riage after the

For instance.

compromise one by it. "^otiphi he opera, ta dramatic man of The Orb, may favor me

Phipps to her carBob Jones, the

with a furtive wink from under his tile— the ancient, the weatherworn—but he never presumes to bew.

The ooys like me, or appear to. And so it has gradually come about that a good many of them make me the depositary of their hopes and cares. When Jack Mill" scores a failure with his play lie oomes to mo—and curses the critics. And when Fred Raeburne has another story refused it is into my tender bosom he pours his grief. Seme say that this foible of the scribes is owing to the fact that I keep a brand of particularly fine cigars and a lot of good old brandy in my rooms but then some peeple would say anything.

One day 1

day 1 had come up town rather

early, and was just stepping into our elevator, when I felt a great thwack on xny back, and a hearty voice exclaimed, "Hello! How's his nibrt" I turned around and recognised Etod Baebnrne. Now, I hate to be hit in the back and called "his nibs." It hurts both my spinal cord and my amour propre. So with some asperity I Informed Fred that xny health was as good as could be expectod under present circumstances. But Fred has tho skin of a rhinoceros. "Going up to see Kitty Clyde?" he continued, oblivious of my irony. "Same here." And he beamed at the elevator boy. "She is a dear little woman. Ehl old man?"

'Sam* Itens."

I don't fancy taking the elevator boy Into my confidence as a regular thing, so although I quite agreed with Fred about Miss Clyde's attractiveness I merely muttered something about "most estimable, I am sure." You cannot be too careful in a house with ladles—the elevator boy is their home journal. But notwithstanding my hints, both of manner and speech, Fred kept on Imperturbably asking me all persoi tiou&l

sorts of personal questions and comment ing faoetioualy on my private affairs until the elevator stopped at the door of Mian Clyde's apartment.

We found it open, but Kitty was not in sight. The studio was a place with whioh we were both familiar a long room, divided across the middle by a Japanese screen about four feet high. At the end next tho door was a carved oak mantel ece. having beneath it a deep fireplaee which burned a bright, soft coal fire. About the walls hung art studies—bits of china, curios, odd pieces of armor and bric-a-brac. Indeed it was a very pretty room, giving proof of Kitty's good taste, and that among other things she knew what a Japanese auction meant.

Finding no one in, Raeburne suggested that we'd best wait for Hi tty. So we sat down and lit dgarettea. BU11 smarting under FVed's recent salutation, and being In an ugly frame of mind anyway, I began the conversation with: "Well, and how does the coming novel-

"ffovelist be denly bla:" into

quoth Fred, sud-

into a man. tl

my words, 1 man. of thes©

fury. "Mark

vll be sorry one

days for the way they've treated

aote. It hain't mattered to me much until this year. But now things are different. Blow Fm going to remember all thoee that

give me a stofie when ast for bread. Fve got them on the list. When I am at the top of the ladder of fame and the publishers come to me, begging for stories then it will be my turn. The public cannot go on imbibing milk and water forever. They will grow up some day, and then they'll howl for meat. Then they must come to me. It is a long fight, old man, but I'm bound to win £n the end. They can't keep me down forever. See this parcel?" Producing one from his overcoat pocket, where I had observed it bulging. "This is a real story—no Aim flam. There's real pathos, real comedy, real tragedy here," went on the enthusiastic author, violently pounding on the arm of my chair his manuscript. "My characters do not merely breathe and talk they live and suffer. They are chastened in the fires of adversity, they lead the real commonplace life of this humdrum world, and yet I have thrown around them such a glamour of romance" "Have you tried it on the dog?" I

Sor

[ueried, cutting in as Raeburne stopped breath. Fred checked himself suddenly in mid flight and fell to earth. He looked at me for a moment, while a comical grin overspread his rather good looking face. "I've tried it on all the dogs lean think of." he admitted, looking ruefully at the parceL '"Never mind they'll have to accept something one of these days." "Why the mischief don't you give it up for the present. Fred?" said "You have a little money why not lie on your oars for a while and wait for the world to catch up with you." "Well, I'll tell you." said Fred, as sum'ug his confidential manner. "But mind, it's a secret. I spent last summer at the Isle of Wight, on the Long Island coast. There I met the loveliest girl"— Fred here threw his eyes and a kiss to the ceiling. "She was stopping with some people—the Rutledges—who had a cottage there. Well, Laura—her name is Laiira—Laura Windom is an orphan- I don't know that that has anything to do with the story, but then she is. Well, I met her, and then I met her once or twice more, and then it seems to me some way as if I didn't meet anybody but her. We used to play lawn tennis and bathe and drive together, and the result was that I got well—you know" "Never mind that skip it," said

You proposed and were rejected, I sup-

No accepted," said Fred, growing red under the influence of some tender reminiscence. "And yet people scoff at miracles," I murmured viciously. "But when I came to talk to Mrs. Rutledge," continued Fred, noticing my gibe, "I got it hot, and no mistake. She asked me whether it was acting like a gentleman to engage* a young girl's affections just because I knew she had a large fortune. By Jove, it just knocked me out. You know I have about three thousand a year. I saw this girl living with the Rutledges I knew she was an orphan, and I thought, if I thought about it at all, that in marrying her I was doing a bit of tho Cophetua business. I am blessed if the old woman did not row me for a fortune hunter. She said: 'Three thousand a year is nothing. 1 could not live on it myself.' (That's a fact.) Then she went on to denounce fortune hunters in general and my impudence in particular. She told me, among other things in tho course of her harangue, that I couldn't earn my salt. She's wrong there, though, old fellow," laughed Fred. "I think I could do that. I don't use a great deal. "Of course 1 was very much cut up about the whole thing, he went on.

Laura stuck to me like a brick, though (Fred has a nack of mixing his metaphors), and said she didn't care what Mrs. Rutledge said. She's deucedly fond of me, you know"—complacently caressing his mustache. "But I was not going to have that old cat saying that I had married Miss Windom for her money and couldn't support her. Would you?" "Not if Icould help myself," I admitted. "But I don't see quite how she could be muzzled." Fred looked at me for a moment dubiously and went on: "One day it occurred to Laura—I saw her sometimes" "Oh! You saw her sometimes?" I put in. "Yes, of course. There was a lane back of the Cedarhurst track that she liked to drive through. I used to meet here there. As I was saying when you interrupted me," with a severe glance in my direction, "it occurred to Laura that I might try and make some monev just to show that I was good for something. She, of course, never doubted my ability, but she wanted mo to convince other people Of it. Funny I had not thought of it myself, was it not?" queried Ffed pensively.

There seemed to me to be no reply to this. So I merely bowed my head in assent. "Yes, exactly," continued Raeburne with a repioachful look on his face, as if he had rather hoped to be contradicted. "So then wo talked over all the different sorts of business, Laura and I, and Laura concluded—she is very clever, you must know—that as it took eight or ten years to get a footing in any other business, ana as we could not afford to wait that long, I must start out and be an author in earnest. That, she said, was the only trade where fame and fortune were obtained at once. You know I have dabbled in verse more or less. I have written some really lovely stanzas about Laura, but of course she would not allow them to be published. So all this fall I have been trying all I knew to get something of mine accepted. And thats the reason Pre got to have something accepted," concluded Fred emphatically, adding anxiously, "Do you tnink I have a chance?"

Now, what should one say to a fellow like that? "Fred," said I, after considering a moment, "you have my best wishes, old fel

year or two for a writer in Gotham to make his mark." Sarcasm is simply thrown away on Fred. "That is just what Laura says," he rejoined cheerfully, ^o we have decided that whenever my fi^st story is accepted we will get married at once. "That is a very sensible determination!" cried Success to 'The Carnival of Crime!'"

I seized the package out of Fred's hand and waved it enthusiastically around my head, offering up a silent prayer the while that some editor might, in a moment of temporary mental eclipse, be induced to accept it.

Jr. at tliis moment I saw Raeburne sndc^Jy rise from his chair and stare open mouthed at the screen behind me with eyes at stuck out like ha: egs. I turned in chair and saw a that brought mo to my feet Instanter. Over the top of the screen appeared the head and shouli rs of a most

i. r.." lo

blonde

who. v.,th a provokiu^ ~_Jle on her stared at Fred. That gentleman seemed, on his part, to be smitten with a sudden attack of roseola.

turned in my chair. n.

"Who the ," I began. There I paused. Beside the blonde apparition rose another head that I knew welL It was Kitty, wearing her most exasperating expression of countenance. When I am with the utmost fairness of reasoning and the utmost mildness of expression explaining to Kitty how such a man of our acquaintance is greatly overrated, or how such another is a pretentious ass, and Kitty looks up at me from her painting, with a brush bit wise across her mouth and that expression on her mobile features, I always shut up. I don't know why it is. I hate to be put down by anybody But there's something in that look shuts me up like a jackknife.

The brush was in Kitty's month now. She removed it to remark sweetly /, "I trust we sha'n't disturb you, gentlemen. Make yourselves quite jftt. home We do not intrude, do we?

Raeburne commenced to stammer a reply. but there was evidently something in the situation that overcame him, for he stuck fast. I took advantage of his confusion to slide "The Carnival of Crime" under a neighboring sofa. Then I turned to Kitty ana said bluntly: "We didn't know you were at home. Why didn't you advise us?" "My dear," said Kitty, turning to the blonde maiden, without noticing my question, "let me introduce you to Mr. Malcolm, a gentleman who sometimes deigns to guide my faltering steps in search of the beautiful and the true. Mr. Malcolm, let me present to you the upper section of my mend, Miss Windom.

While Kitty was speaking I was bowing in my most faultless manner to the beautiful head that rose above the screen like a Raphael's cherub. But when she came to the name of the fair unknown I straightened up so suddenly that 1 fancied I could hear my backbone click like an open clasp knife. "Miss WindonrT I repeated. Then I looked at her and glanced at Fred. Both had turned a beautiful peony color. I transferred my gaze to Kitty's demure, face. There was a twinkle in the ctwror of one of her eyes that was irresistible—I threw myself into an armchair and burst into aloud guffaw. Kitty's demureness went all to pieces in a moment and she went off into nts of laughter. Fred and the girl hesitated a little, meanwhile going through those physico-mental processes familiarly known as "turning all colors of the rainbow" and "looking seven ways for Sunday." But Kitty's laugh was contagious, and presently they wette forced to join us, he looking rather sheepish, and sne with a most charming blush on her cheeks and a flutter of the down cast eyelids that added considerable to my admiration of her pretty face. "Well," said Kitty, after we haann a measure recovered our equanimity, "Mr. Malcolm, if you will fold back this screen we will come out, and then you can be presented to the rest of Miss Windom,'' "That reminds me of a story," said I, proceeding to remove the screen. The ladles came out and took seats. Fred ensconced himself on the sofa beside his fair inamorata, who indeed seemed nothing loath. "Are there any ladies in this sto asked Kitty. "You must know, Windom," she went on, turning her gray eyes pensively upon Fred, "that Mr. Malcolm, like Mr. Raeburne, is a person of whom our sex is apt to be 'deuoed fond.1 That is the phrase, eh, Mr. Raeburne?"

Fred clasped his hands entreatingly, and besought his tormentor in dumb show to have pity. "Oh, let up, Kitty, do," I put in, "or at least let up on me. I've done nothing to for any such sarcastic remark on your part." "All right," said Kitty, "I'm mute. Give us the story." "You all know Mr. Claverhouse?" I began "at least by reputation?"

They, of course, had all heard of that celebrated wit. "I met him on board the yacht of a Mutual friend, last summer," I went on. "At riinnar Mr. Claverhouse was very entertaining, as usual. By and by he got to telling us about his yacht, the Fearless. He became quite eloquent in describing the splendors of her cabin. 'You m—m—ust know,' said he, 'that she— o—'g very well done up inside. Wh—h—y, she o's got two pier glasses that are be—-be—auties. You Look in one and you see yo—yo—yo—yourself down to here,' indicating his knees. 'Then y—y—ou tack across and look in the o—o—other, and y—y—you see yourself up to here/ indicating his chest. 'Full view in t—t—two shots.' 'So,' concluded I, Tve gotten introduced to Miss Windom in two shots I*

The telling of this reminiscence had the one good effect of relieving the awkwardness of the situation, which three of us at least were willing to put behind us. After this we slid Into a general conversation. Fred was at first a trifle shy. But as it appeared that Kitty had concluded to "let up on us," aa I had suggested, Fred gradually came out of winter quarters and beamed on us again with his usual conversational warmth. "I didn't know," he said to Miss Windom, "that you and Ki—Miss Kittvwere acquainted. How long have you known each other?" "Let me see,"returned the girl, looking over at Kitty, "how long have we known each other. Miss Clyde?"

Then the two, for some inexplicable reason, went off into another fit. It is astonishing how much laughter that can't be accounted for is indulged in at times l^thesex. "Oh, I dare say It's very amusing," acclaimed Fred, in a fluster "but don't you •Mnlr it would convey sum information to us who are not in the secret if you'd answer my question?" "Come here, Fred," said Miss Windom, resuming her gravity and her perpendicular aft the same time. "Pve something to show you. May D" she asked of Kitty, aa she passed her.:

Kitty shrugged her shoulders, and the young girl evidently taking this aa a sign of assent, led her awain to__tha„ further -V .,x

iTCHEE HAIIZTE SATURDAY EVENING MATT.

*-r

end ofthe room, where Kitty's easel stood near a back window. There they leaned over a picture which stood upon the easel, but which was invisible to me from where I sat. Seeing them engaged together I turned to Kitty and demanded: "Will you please inform me now. Miss Clyde, how this 'School for Scandal' situation has come to be precipitated upon us two offensive mortals?" "Nothing easier," quoth Kitty. Then she relapsed for a moment into an amused chuckle. "Excuse me, Malcolm, but it was so funny. When you two men got out of your chairs you looked for all the world as if you had iust been carted around from the Eden Mtisee."

I tried to appear amused, and waited patiently for Kitty's explanation. "You see," she began, "I have been doing some more work for The Talltower. This time I have been writing up tho Gotham studios. Well, in my distribution of puffs I did not forget myself, you may be sure. I described elaborately those sketches I made on the Jersey coast last summer. The pen pictures were somehow a good deal nicer than the brush ones," commented Kitty pensively. "Well, it so happened that Miss Windom saw the article, and, being an amateur of painting and having sketched ou the Jersey coast herself, she came up to see my pictures. What's more, she bought some of them," added Kitty, looking over to where Miss Windom was just then picking a pretty picture of herself, bending over the ea 1 with the winter sunlight falling on her blonde head, turning the masses of her hair into gold. "What have you got on the easel over there?" I queried. "It's a portrait of her—Laura." Kitty replied. "She liked my method so well that she insisted on my painting her portrait. You know she's very rich, and she pays me quite handsomely for it. She is a dear, good girl, and I'm very fond of her," lowing affectionately at the subject of her encomiums. "She comes up nearly every day for a sitting. We were at it when you came in. I was just finishing one of nev eyes, and told her to keep quiet for a moment. Then the conversation out here became so personal that we couldnt announce ourselves." And Kitty relapsed into an amused giggle. tty," I said severely, "that joke is getting to be a chestnut.'

At this moment the other two loined us, and we drew up together around the cozy fireplace and prepared to spend a pleasant afternoon together.

Kitty made tea. I ordinarily hate tea, but as Kitty makes it (Russian fashion, she .says), and served with a slice of lemon, It is far from bad. By and by she got down her banjo and played ud two or three soft, plaintive melodies, which had the effect of steeping us in a sort of tender melancholy. Raeburne, indeed, became so maudlin that nothing would do him but that Miss Windom should sing. That is always the way. Whenever I see a lovely face which quite satisfies

Sweetheart of mine.

me,

some idiot insists on the statue opening its mouth to disenchant

me.

I settled

back in my chair and prepared to hear "White Wings," or "The Lost Chord," with what fortitude I might. Miss Windom took the banjo, struck a few soft notes, and then in a low, sweet voice, full of expression, sang the verses which follow. I got a copy of them afterward from Raeburne. ft seems he wrote them one moonlight night during an especially desperate crisis of the tender passion. Miss Windom composed the air. I was surprised on reading them to find so little of tne dreamy pathos that seemed to pervade them, when Miss Windom sang them. 'CT-1 Sweetheart of mine, lapped In the gloom I lie 'Mid bitter thoughts. Yet, dear, 1 will rejoice. If it be so, that I must make the choice, To take my love and let the world go by, 8weetheart of mine. Sweetheart of mine, far through the silent night My heart turns toward my darling where she lies, To breathe a kiss upon her fast shut eyes. And fill her sleep with happy dreams and bright,

Sweetheart of mine, whatever may befall Oome weal, come woe come pleasure or come pain: Sorrows shall beat upon my heart In vain Your perfect love is recompense for all-

Sweetheart of mine.

When the last notes had died away there was an eloquent silence. I mentally followed Goldsmith's example and handed the young lady my hat. But the irrepressible Raeburne could not long be muzzled. "Thanks awfully, Laura," he said. "I could sit here forever to listen to you. Could not you, Miss Clyde?" "Hardly forever, unless I was 'deucedly fond' of her," replied Kitty, merrily.

I joined Kitty's laugh this time, though in truth the joke was getting shop worn. But it's lust as well to have Fred squelched once in a while. If not he's apt to become so dreadfully universal.

Miss Windon, with a little sigh, put down the banjo, and, rising, said with an expressive glance at Raeburne: "I really must go. Thank you very muc" pleasant afternoon, Miss Clyde. may I say Kitty?"

much for my May I—

"That"you may," responded our little hostess heartily. "I shall be only too pleased to have you."

Miss Windom strolled over to the window and began drawing on her gloves. "How strangely a few simple notes can affect one," said I, assuming my favorite Colossus of Rhodes attitude before the fire. "1 remember in Paris once being awakened by a hand organ playing 'Home, Sweet Home' beneath my window, and do you know" "There is somebody going to play 'Home, Sweet Home,'beneath this window," cried Miss Windom, starting back from the casement, out of which sne had been pensively gazing as she buttoned her glove. "what's the matte/,-" cried Kitty, hastening toward the evidently disturbed dKmiial. "Mrs. Rutledge's carriage is at the door," exclaimed the latter. "She promised to call forme. Oh, dear, what shall I do? She will be simply furious if she finds Fred here." "Oh, never mind her," said Kitty reassuringly. "She wont come up. She'll send the footman." "Oh, yes, she win," said Miss Windom. "See," she exclaimed, peeping cautiously from the window, "there she is getting out—and—yes—she's coming right into the house.

There was no doubt about it. In a

moTKAnt

we heard the elevator boy out

side. "That door, ma'am, No. 6." "Thank you. Yes," a harsh voice responded, "I see the name on the door."

And then there came a loud, authoritative knock. Luckily the door was not as it had been when we came up. was a moment for deliberation. Booked around. "The screen!" I whispered toTQtty. ••The very thing," she murmured back. "But4 no^Jirs. Rutledge is a regular

ifift

mouser. Whenever she Comes here~with Laura she invariably prowls over the whole place and pokes into everything." "Rat—tat—tat!" came from theaoor insistently. "I have it," came all at once from Kitty in an exaggerated stage whisper. "Here, Laura. Take your chair at once. So. Now, then, Mr. Raeburne, stand here. Hurry, Malcolm, help me to roll the screen around him. On your knees, Mr. Raeburne. You can pray a little in the meanwhile, if you want to, for our escape. You might do something to assist the general effort."

With this, and having Raeburne fairly imprisoned, she proceeded to throw over the screen a heavy portiere, which was one of tho properties, so to speak, of her atelier. "Don't you dare even to breathe,' her parting injunction to poor Fred. "I'm not likely to," came in smothered tones from under the picture. "A—chool Whew! How dusty that curtain isl"

Rat-tat-tat-bangl came from the door. And then a hand rattled the knob impatiently. "What shall I do with you, Malcolm?" gasped Kitty. "Oh. I know. Here, hurry. Take this cloak," producing an immense, dingy, red affair. "Now, the hat," cramming a big. flapping Mexican arrangement over both eyes and ears. "Now, this dagger. There, stand in tlas dark corner, with your face to the wall, and try to look wooden—no, don't try just look natural and you'll do."

Having got me thus thoroughly disguised as a lay figure the little woman turned with an elaborate courtesy in the direction of the door. "Now, madam, "she said, "I am at your service."

She stuck a paint brush across her mouth in business like fashion, hung her rtte on her thumb and opened the

"Oh, Mrs. Rutledge—you—I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting." Unfeigned surprise was in every tone of Kitty's ftbeit speech.

Mrs. Rutledge bowed without saying anything in reply, and walked majestically into the room, amid a prodigous rustling of silks. She surveyed the apartment for moment (I could see her in a small mirror that hong on the wall directly in front of me), sniffed once or twice and then asked abruptly: "la there any one else here?" "Otaly Miss Windom, as you see madam," responded Kitty, innocently. "Who's been smoking?'' demanded Mrs. Rutledge, with another sniff. "Ei-—only me." Kitty was evidently taken aback by this question, which wasin the mature of a poser, but seeing there was but one way out of the dilemma shewalked Into it, like the little heroine she is. "Yott smoke?" queried the elder lady, severely. "Yes," said Kitty "You know we Bohemians will have our little dissipations. By the way, if you don't mind I'll have a cigarette now."

Suiting the action to the word, Kitty picked up my case where I had chanced to lay it on the mantel, selected a cigarette with the air of a connoisseur, lit it and began to puff. 1 could see a qualm pass over the poor little woman's face as she expelled-the first mouthful of smoke, but with the resolution of a martyr she stuck to her cigarette to the no small astonishment via disgust of her caller. "I owe you an apology for keeping yo® waiting, Mrs. Rutledge, explained Kitty. "But the fact is, I was at work on a very delicate part of the portrait when you knocked—one of your ward's beautiful eyes, and, not dreaming that it could be you, I thought it best to finish before going to the door." "Oh, Kitty, you little pocket edition of Sapphira, how glibly you did lie that winter afternoon!"

Mrs. Rutledge turned to her ward. "Are you almost ready to go home, Laura?" she asked., "Not quite, Mrs. Rutledge. But you needn't wait. I can walk quite as well. It will be tiresome for you up here with nothing to do." "I shall wait," interposed the matron abruptly. Then going up to the girl, she looked at her closely. "Laura," she aaid, "what is the matter with you? You are flushed and trembling. Laura (diapason), have you been seeing that man again?" "What man?" murmured poor Laura.

But here a suppressed sneeze from underneath the portiere interrupted her. Mrs. Rutledge turned hastily around. "What was that?" she demanded, looking suspiciously at the screen.

"What was thatf" ths demanded. "Oh, it was only the cuckoo clock," interposed Kitty, liastily, pointing to an aged specimen of that kind of furniture standing in the corner Just beyond the screen. "You see my clock is so old that the striking machinery is all worn out. When the hour comes round the old clock, instead of striking, just gives a big wheeze like that. It often startles me just ss it did you." ., "Brave Kitty, that was a pretty bold bluff," said I to myself, "seeing that the (dock's are pointing to twenty-three minutes past 4 precisely.'

The explanation seemed to satisfy Mrs. Rutledge, however, ss, after glancing severely from Kitty to the clock and back to the screen, she turned away with the remark that she "hoped it wouldn't occur again."

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jwlT

CHAS. H. LEWIS, Central village, ct.

Paine's

Celery Compound

"I have been greatly affile tod with acute rheumatism, and could find no relief until I used Fame's Celery Compound. After using six bottles of this medicine 1 am now cured of rheumatic troubles."

SAMUKL HUTCHINSON, 8A Cornish, N. H.

Effects Lasting Cures.

Patne's Celery Compound has performed many other cures as marvelous as these,—copies of letters sent to any address. Pleasant to take, does not disturb, but aids digestion, and entirely vegetable a child can take It. What's the use of suffering longer with rheumatism or neuralgia? $i.oo. Six for $5.OCX Druggists.

Mammoth testimonial paper

Wsus, RICHARDSON

tree.

co..Props.,BurllngtonIvt.

HIAuntin VCQ JFMer

Positive

«nd

Brighter

UlAaUHU UrtO colon Okan any other Syet. md/reviving upon Lactated Food are Healthy, BABIES Happy, Hearty. It it Unequaled.

Moore's

Pilules are a most certain and Bpeedy cure for all diseases that arise from Malaria, Chills and Fever, etc. The

fj®.thatthekillingofblood,producewholeIntholatlon,germgdirectlyactthe

act directly

fever, torpid liver, con

stipation, kidney troubles, sick heudache, rheumatism, neuralgia,etc. They are a

antidote for these comlalnts have never ailed for more than 16 years, 'they act like magic on all malarial

sickness, hence they are the only positive

for all Blood Impurities known. They will purify and dense the system, wnen everything else has failed and as

Cure For Chills I

and fever, there Is nothing (and never was anything produced, ever,) like them

for their wonderful effects. Many hundreds of thousands of old stubborn cases have been cured by Moore's Pilules, which all other remedies failed to touch. They are a most valuable medicine to have on band In the family they relieve Indigestion, clear the skin, act on the liver at once—hence there is no need 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 their bright appearance, elastic step, and the nealthfui glow upon their faces

Moore's Throat and Lung Losenges are a most excellent iemedy,—nothing better-for Coughs, Colds. Sore Throat, Bronchitis. Whooping Cough and all affections of the throat and chest. They are pleasant to the taste, and give Instant relief. Put up in large 10 cent and 26 cent tin boxes—for Irritation of the throat there Is no remedy that begins to compare with them. Both remedies sold by druggists.

GRATKJrUX—COMFORTING.

Epps's Cocoa

BBBAKV48T.

"By a thorough knowledge of the natural

properties

Oocoa, Mr. Epps has provided our breakfast tobies with a delicately flavored beverage which may save us many heavy doctors bills. It Is by the Judicious use of such article* of diet that a constlt utlon may be gradually built up until strong enough to resist every tendency to disease. Hundreds of rootle maladies are floating around u* ready to attack wherever there a weak point.

may escape many a fatal shaft by keeping ourselves well fortified with pare blood and a properly nourished frame."—{Civil Service Oasette.

Made simply with boiling water or milk Sold only in half pound tinsby groeers, labeled thus: JAMBS KPP8 CO-

Hoiacpopathfc Clwmlsts. Loadon, Kng