Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 29, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 January 1894 — Page 2

-AND

A naineless girl waif on the .London wharves overhears a plot betweeu Putty, the landlord of Mariner's Joy, a confederate named Drigo and a stranger known as Taras, to help some deserters escape from a ship. CHAPTER II—The deserters arrive, a scuffle ensues In the barroom of the Joy, and Taras disappears. Ill and IV—Alter a vain hunt for Taras the waif Is led byastrange sound toa cellar beneath the bar. Following the olew, she finds Taras imprisoned and releases

him

through means of an old robber tunnel from the cellar to the wharf. V—Putty and Drigo discover the escape and cut off the waif in the tunnel, but she takes terrible reventre on them and is befriended by Taras VI, VII, VIIT—The waif runs away and attempts suicide. Taras finds her In a police cell and takes her to his own home under tbccare of Mere Lucas, his housekeeper. There she begins a new life as Aura. IX, and XI—Aura is dressed for her new station in Taras' household and makes theacquaint ance of Major Kavanagh, a bosom friend of Taras, who is a Russian nihilist. XII, XIII and XIV—Taras is an artist making plaster groups to portray thetyiunny of the czar. Aura develops by dint of bard study intola Companion of the artist refugee. XV, XVI and XVII—Love emotions are awakened in Aura for Taras. A cast representing downtrodden Russia is mysteriously destroyed In Taras' workshop. At a hint from Kavanagh Mere Lucas is suspected, and Aura becomes a zealous watchdog over the person of her benefactor. XVIIX, XIX and XX—While shadowing Taras to protect him Aura is shadowed "by Drigo. Bhe gives him the slip and rcseups Taras from abducMon br Kav amigh. XXI, XXII and XXIII—Kavanagh explains that be is engaged in a deep scheme to save Taras from assassination by minions of the czijtr. By helpof Auraa mutual friend of all concerned, George Gordon, who Is Taras' dounle, is to bcubduct.ed and delivered to the czar's agents. XYIV and XXV-Ru-dersdorf of the Russian secret pot ice reaches Loudon to silence Taras. Gordon is a constant caller at Tara's house, and his trysts with Aura have the color of a love attachment. The remaining chapters tell how Gordon and Aura are carried to Russia and started on the read to Siberia. Aura escapes, returns to London, secures Gordon's escape and unmasks Kavanagh, who loves Gordon's afllanced and is in the pay of the czar. He meets a terrible fate, and Aura marries Taras, otherwise Prince Borgensky.

CIIA: TER XLUI.

I MAKE MYSELF KNOWN TO Alt AS.

I returned to the Grange that evening. Mere Lucas, though she could not conceal the change in her sentiments toward me, did her best to make me feel at home in her sitting room and supply all my phys ical requirements. For the Grst time she permitted herself to sit down to table with me, and we shared the same dish that had come from her master's table. There was significance in this. In her opinion 1 ranked no longer in social distinction with Taras and Mile. Judith. "Fill your glass again, my dear," said she. "The master begrudges me nothing, as you know, and when I told him I expected Mine. Leroy he bade me fete you."

Presently she left mo to answer the dintog room bell. She returned with the cof fee service, her under lip raised and rueful misgiving in her fac^.

He vftants to. see you," she whispered. J&i)ae. eroy,' says he, 'that it will eat pleasure if Bhe will come in me.' I begged him to excuse you^Tjau have a headache and are not fit for society tonight, but I do not see how you are to get out of it tomorrow. We ought to have thought of this beforehand." "I have thought of it. I want to speak to him." "Mon Dieul 1 didn't think you had grown so hardy. Look you, you will have to mumble your words finely, or he will know you by your voice, and then what Will happen?" "If he cannot forgive me. I must bear it," •aid 1. "But whether he l'orgive moor not I am sure he will never tell any one of my disgrace, and that is all I fear." "No, that is certain. You can count upon his saying nothing about you to any one as surely as yon can rely upon my silence. Nevertheless it's as good as confess ing everything to make yourself known to him. However," she added, with a sigh of satisfaction, "thank God, there's your clothes, that I brought away from Lam bctli, up stairs in the press, and all your linen as sweet aud clean as hands can make tliem."

Clean linen and neat appearauce were •ery much more in accordance with her views of true repentance than sackcloth and ashes, and 1 doubt if she could have felt genuine respect for anyone in such a wayworn and bedraggled condition as mine

Soon after breakfast, the next nmrnincr •he led me into the tuning room where .Taras was aittiug, and having hastily introduced me as her cousin, Mine. LeVoy, she as speedily withdrew, leaving me to take the couKeiiueucw* upon my own •houldor*.

After begging me to be seated Taras •aid: "We would have sent a trap to the station if we had known you were coming last night. It is a long way from the sta»ioa. I hope you feel better this morning, madame."

I had intended to disguise my voice, but my heart revolted against deceiviug my dear, stricken friend, and, after a moment's hesitation, in my natural voice I answered "Yes."

At that one word, faint as it was, he started, and turning his head slowly toward

me—for

BARRET

Out of the Jaws of Death by Frank Barrett COPYRIGHT. 1893 BY CASSELL & Co. PUBLlSHED BY SPeClAL ARRANGEMENT SYNOPSIS.

he had mistaken my position in

the room—he faced me. For a full minute he was silent, his closed eyelids quivering as If in conflict with the Instinctive effort to penetrate the eternal shroud that hid me from him. "Mine. Leroy?" he said interrupt!rely, with emotion in his voioo. "Yea"

He bent ir- head to catch my response, and there was another pause* "You have come alone, Mme. Leroyf" he asked. "Yes." "There was no friend you cared to bring?" "No."

These faltering monosyllables must hare betrayed me, even if he doubted the evidence of my voice, but the belief that I wished to remain unrecognized was sufficient to withhold him from discovering his knowledge. "You are yoing to stay with us, Mme. Leroy?" he asked. "No I think of tearing this afternoon." I stammered^

He mafie no reply, but a look of pain came into his face, and I was silent, too, not having the courage to tell him whyl had come. But he must have concluded that I was in trouble and in need of help, for presently, drawing some unopened letters from the Inner pocket of his coat, he said: "The*e letters came last night. Will you

mmsm

open them am! tell me who they are from?" They were from sympathizing friends in London. I read the names and addresses to him. 0 "Have you opened tnem all?" he asked. "Yes." "I hoped there was one from a friend—a dear friend of bygone days—from whom I have been hoping and expecting to hear by every post. Do you mind looking through them a^ain?"

I understood his motive in giving me the letters now, and seizing the opportunity I asked him if it was from a poor woman in distress that he expected to hear —a nameless creature who dared not show her face. "It cannot be my little friend," he said sadly. "She would not fear me. We were comrades, she and I, and should be still— companions in adversity. To think that I could judge her harshly is to judge me yet more harshly." "She does not fear you, but she dreads those who have less charity." "She is in trouble, you tell me. Can help her?" "She hopes you will. Her happinessmore than she can tell you—depends on that." "Tell me what she wants." "She is in need of money." "Does her happiness depend on that?" "Yes." "You are sure she asks for nothing more than money?" "Nothing."

He bowed his head as if to conceal the pain that came into his face. Then, quickly recovering himself, he said gently: "Poor soul, ifmoney can makeher happy, she shall have it."

He rose, felt his way to a writing table and seated himself before it. From a drawer he took out a checkbook, opened it, and passing his long, nervous fingers over the paper he slowly wrote his name in the right hand corner. Then he tore out the check, and returning to his former seat gave it to me. "I have left it open," he said. "Ask her to write in—Liy unhappy little friend—the amount she needs, and tell her, in case she doubts it still, that her secret is safe in my keeping and that she has made me happy by remembering me in her distress."

I took the check, faltering some incoherent words of gratitude. "You will stay with us a day or two?" he asked. "No I must go away tOs'ay." "Have you far to go home?" "I am going to London," he replied evasively. "You are staying with friends there?" "No I have no friend to go to." "Are you quite alone?" "Quite."

He was silent for a moment, seeming Rreatly shocked by his discovery. Then he said: "But you have friends." "None but Mere Lucas and"——

He held out his hand quickly, and as it closed on mine a smile broke over his face. "And me," he said. "Oh, if my ear and reason deceived me the sense of touch would tell me whose band this is I hold. Let us give up this game of crooked questions and cross answers and be ourselves. Have faith in me, little friend."

For some minutes we sat thus, with our hands locked, and neither spoke. Some such feeling of mingled joy and sympathetic sorrow as choked my utterance may have silenced him." Perhaps he was waiting for me to confide my sorrows to him— to pour out the history of past troubles that he might give me comfort. But I dared not answer that silent appeal, and the tear that slipped from my cheek and fell upon his hand as I bent over it was all the confession I could make. "Is there nothing I can do to help you?" he asked in atone of deep agitation. "Nothing—nothing more than you have done. No one can help me. I need no help now. The worst is past. Better days must come. Then I may tell you more." "I want to know no more than that." he answered impressively if ti.e worst is

Be bent Ms head to catch my response, and there vxis another vaase. past, we will oeaee to think of it. Let us go In the garden," he added in a brighter tone as he rose to his feet. "The sun ought to be shining today."

He took my trembling arm. "You know the way?" he asked. "Yes I walked across the lawn yesterday." "I knew it," he murmured. "Something touched my arm, and I felt that you were near. I have been expecting you to come."

He said this, I thought, to encourage me, but the radiant happiness In his face surprised me, though I knew the vigor and fortitude of his character. One would not have imagined but for those poor closed eyes that he had lost the most precious gift of nature. He pressed my arm to bis side and spoke some wise words of assurance, adding: "We have both met with misfortune. Utile friend." "I think top much of my own." "Mine," he said to turn my thoughts, "is not so great you would think. At first It was hard to bear—the world seemed so empty. But I am learning to see now without my eyes, and I find a multitude of beautiful things that had before escaped my notice. I never weary of sitting here and listening—puzsling oat where all the

aWKer*- '.a TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, JANUARY 13/1894.'

sounds come tiuiii uud lurtun.g a better jioquaintance with the bidden world." "And in the evening you have Miss Bell to read to you and play." "Yes. She is a good, amiable girl, won derfully patient and untiring.",

There was a great whir of wings over our heads, startling me for the moment, and then six or eight beautiful pigeons fluttered down and -settled on Taras' shoulder and outstretched arm. He gave them a handful of maize from his pocket, and they clustered about his hand with outstretched wings to take the grain. "Do they come down to Miss Bell like that?1 I askeu, with envy. "They will come to any one who"has something to give them," he said, smiling.

I wo..dered if he regarded me in thesame light. 1 held out my hand timidly to the pretty, fluttering birds, but they had swallowed the last grain, and they took to their wings and flew away in a body.

I could bear it no longer. The pain at my heart was greater than I could endure. "I must go away, too," I said, choking down my grief.

CHAPTER XLIV.-?45t%3 1 FRIEND IN NEKD. Taras 'would have had me take his carriage to the station, but I refused. I wanted to be quite alone that I might relieve my heart of its burden in an unrestrained' flow of tears. And as soon as I got away from the gates of the Grange they came— those welcome tears—and blinded I stumbled along the road with down bent head.

When the paroxysm was past, I tried to think of the future, but even the prospect of bringing Gordon back and removing the illusion that must have lessened Tara's respect and affection for me failed to lighten my spirits. Could the old tie ever be renewed? Would Taras ever again feel as he had felt toward me? Had he not already given his heart to Judith? I asked. Then the figure of George Gordon as I had .seen him at the last moment standing under the dark pines, waving his hand in a cheerful farewell, rose before my imagination, and at the thought of his bitter disappointment in finding that Judith had transferred her love to Taras—as I felt she must have done, living for so long in close companionship with him—of his experiencing such bitter anguish and regret as this which tore my heart, I asked if it would not be almost more merciful to leave him there in ignorance of this greater misery. But the thought of doing my duty urged me on and overcame these hesitating doubts.

Mr. Pelham bad given the finishing touch of newness to his office by the addition of a new clerk, who, when I entered, was engaged in addressing circulars at his desk. After taking my nam e, which I gave as Mme. Leroy, this young man led me into the inner office, where I found Mr Pelham waiting for clients to come with the patience of a spider on bhe lookout foi Btray flies, as it seemrd to me. "I have got ii," said triumphantly as I laid the cheuii before him. "I am delighted to hear it, madame. You wish me to go with you to Mr. Lazarus and see this affair through—always the most advisable course in a transaction where proof of payment may be needed. No time is to be lost. I"— His enthusiasm was abruptly checked and his countenance fell as he glanced down at the check he had unfolded. "But this is not filled in, madame." "That is why I came to you first. I'm to write in the amount, and I want you to show me how to do it." "I perceive," he said, but in a dubitative tone, and then, as if anticipating a repetition of the difficulty that prevented .the cashing of Gordon's offer, he added: "It will be advisable perhaps to take this to the bank before we see Mr. Lazarus. Business men are so particular, you know."

His spirit quickly rose again, however, as I filled up the check according to his directions, the prospect of handling money being, I think, as agreeable to him as to Mr. Lazarus himself, and when I had done he rose briskly and took his hat from the peg on the wall. "Oh, by-the way," he said, coming back to the table and opening a drawer, "can you tell me if your Mr. Kavanagh has an office in Lambeth?" "In Lambeth? Not to my knowledge.'! "Ah, then, it is a singular coincidence and nothing more. My clerk," he explained, "is engaged in addressing circulars to certain capitalists respecting a company that is being formed. This envelope was among them, and the name catching my "eye—your interesting case is continually in my mind —I looked in the directory and found, to my astonishment, that the office to which this letter is addressed was occupied by Messrs. Bell & Gordon. I say 'was' advisedly, because probably the directory was compiled last autumn. Now, the association of these two names "The Old Lambeth Pottery?" I inter rupted. "Yes, that is the address." 'That may be Kavanagh's address now. What is inside the envelope?" I asked eagerly. "We will see."

He opened it.

MWell,-there's

"Only a circular. If you think there may be more in this than mere coincidence. I will question Mr. Brett before you—here, now, if you please." "Yes," said I, feeling that I could not rest In uncertainty as to the extent of the clerk's connection with Kavanagh.

Mr. Pelham placed a chair for me where I could sit with my back to the window and touched the bell on the table. The new clerk came to the door. '•Come in, Mr. Brett," said the solicitor. "I saw a circular addressed to a Mr. Kavanagh, Old Lambeth Pottery. Do you know him?" '•Client of my late employers—Evans & Evans—sir." "You don't know him personally?"

The clerk shook his head, with a smile. **A little too high up for that, sir," said he. gentleman of fortune—holds a post in the house, I believe." V. "He apeoulates, of course?"

"Not sure, sir. I know he has bought up two or three little potteries." "What potteries?"

the Old Lambeth, but he

took that up, I believe, more from charity than as a paying concern." "But the Old Lambeth—why, that*s Bell & Gordon's surely?" "Was, sir, before Mr. Gordon bolted." "Mr. Gordon bolted f" exclaimed the solicitor in a tone of incredulous astonishment. "Why, this is the first I have heard Of it." "Last November. A young lady in the case, I believe," said the clerk, with a mild grin, which he would certainly have kept for another occasion had he suspected that I was the young lady in question. "Don't know much about that, but I do know that he left his affairs in a regular muddle and behaved shamefully toward his partner, poor old Colonel Bell." "This is bad news, madame," said Mr. Pelham, turning to me with a grave shake of the head. "In what way did he behave shamefully, Mr. Brett?" "Took Colonel Bell into partnership and Invested in a pottery that was worth nothing I* a11. incurred considerable debt in

building kilns and improving the place, and then, when he found that the colonel's affairs were not so good as he expected, he realized what he could and bolted, leaving this poor old gentleman to get out of his difficulties as he could." "Ah, well, what happened then?" "Things went worse and worse with the colonel. The kiln that he still had to pay for fell in the first time it was fired. Then, to meet his creditors, the poor old fellow tried to raise money on some mining stock and found the shares worth nothing. Mr. Kavanagh introduced him to us, and I had to go into the affair, so I know all about it." "And the result of your examination showed" "Showed that Colonel Bell had not sixpence in the pound to pay his creditors." "But he could call upon his partner, Mr. Gordon." "Couldn't find' him, riot^a' trace bf him anywhere, and his solicitor—Cunningham of Lincoln's Inn—refused to produce a pen ny without his order, naturally." "Oh, Mr. Gordon had means then?" "Plenty, but i'tfs all tied up. No one can touch it until he is found or an order is obtained from the court of bankruptcy." "Dear me! And what did Colonel Bell do in that emergency?" "Just what might be expected of anhctaorable old gentleman and a bad man of business—sold up all his private property and paid over every penny to the creditors of Bell & Gordon. Evans & Evans did their utmost to prevent him making such a disastrous sacrifice and advised him to declare himself bankrupt at once. But he would not be persuaded. Yielding in most things, be was as stubborn as—as anything on this. Old fashioned notions, you know, sir, about honor and the disgrace, of being whitewashed."

"Of course the sulh.'realized was insufficient to satisfy the creditors of the firm." "Didn't satisfy a quarter of them and left him without funds to work the business. That was foreseen by Evans & Evans, who told the obstinate old fellow that he was only throwing his money away and postponing the evil day." "So that after all he had to close the works and declare himself insolvent?" "He would have had to do so to a dead certainty, but just at the last moment Mr. Kavanagh came forward and lent him a sum of money to clear off the debt, rebuild the kiln and start afresh." "Did Mr. Kavanagh advance the money without security?" "Not exactly, sir—he took a mortgageon the estate." "I don't see any great generosity, Mr. Brett, in advancing money on a mortgage." "There was in this case, sir. Evans & Evans had thought of raising money by a mortgage, but on looking into the deed of partnership they found an impediment in the way. Mr. Gordon could repudiate any obligation made without his consent." "I see. Mr. Kavanagh .relies upon Mr. Gordon fulfilling the obligation when he returns?" "Just so, sir,, and considering all things that's not very good security." "Supposing Mr. Gordon should not trouble himself to return, what then. Mr. Brett?" "Then Mr. Kavanagh will come out all right. Every farthing the gal la old colonel can screw out of 1

affair is made over

to Mr. Kavanagh's account toward the pay ment of the mortgage, and 'if he only has time he will certainly clear it off. The business is looking up at the pottery now. Three kilns are in working order." j"I think you said that Mr. Kavanagh has invested capital in other potteries." "Two or three small ones. He snapped them up the moment he heard that Hintons were going to turn their business into a company, knowing that the first object of the company would be to extend the works, which could only be done by buying up these potteries. And the result proved the justice of his forethought. The company would give him a check for the whole lot at a day's notice." "And "transfer the mortgage on Bell & Gordon's pottery?" "Oh, yes they would take therisk of pulling that through all right. A young company, you knov/, sir,doesn't stick at trifles." "And if the company chose to forecloseas I suppose they would—Mr.' Bell would be forced to abandon everything and go in the workhouse?" "Oh, of course, as a man of honor, Mr. Kavanagh would indemnify him out of the handsome profit l:e must make on the spec nlation." "Just so, as a man of honor, he would,'' assented Mr. Pelham, and then turning to me, with the slightest indication of a wink, he said in a tone of assurance: "Well, madame, you see your money is quite safe. Thank you, Mr. Brett. If any one calls, you can say that I shall be back in an hour."

The cab which had brought me from Waterloo stood at the door. We got in. and Mr. Pelham", having directed the driver, said, as he took the seat beside me: "I conclude the persons referred to by Mr Brett are the same that you are acquinted with, madame?" "Yes, they are the same."

Well, you see how matters stand.'"I think I understand what he said." Of course a great deal was less clear to me then than I have tried to make it in this narrative. "It's pretty clear that Kavanagh is get-

ting

all his eggs in one basket for the convenience of selling out and bolting at a moment's notice. All these arrangements are clearly made with a view to the possibility of Mr. Gordon's return. I need not Impress upon you the tremendous Importance of secrecy. The merest suspicion on

his

part that you are here will involve a eatastrophe. There's one thing I can't quite make out," he continued reflectively, after a pause of some minutes, "and that la why he has not made his position still more secure by aooepting at once the offer mad* by this company. He knows as well as most people the value of a bird in the hand. It isn't likely that a man who has shown himself devoid of principle and facing should be restrained by consideration for an old man—that he should jeopardise his own future, though only in a slight measure, merely to keep Colonel Bell out of the workhouse. 1 think we shall find that he has some stronger motive for this delay."

When the cab stopped, Mr. Pelham left me and took the check into the bank. In a few minutes he returned with a jubilant expression on his face. "It Is perfectly correct," he said, stepping briskly into the cab. Then he directed the cabman to drive to Houndsditch, and as we rattled on proceeded to count over handle of notes caressingly, as if the touch of the crisp paper was real p1easure to him.

Mr. Lazarus received us with unctuous civility, and having counted over the notes in his tuna opened a drawer and brought oat the letter from Peter Schemyi, which he carefully read through once more. "You have come only just in time, my dear lady," said he as he began to fill up a telegram form. "Mr. Schemyi leaves Mo» oo^tomomw."

""But my friends are not in Moscow," I said. "No they are at Vorontskaya, I suppose. It would never do for Mr. Schemyi to receive a telegram there from London. you know whom he left in charge of the posthouse when he came away?" "His brother Borgis, I think." "Ah, a clever man, Mr. Borgis Schemyi, very clever. I congratulate you—one of the cleverest men in the business. He will get a telegram from his brother at Moscow tomorrow in all probability and put your friends well on the road before Mr. Schemyi returns." "You think they will get away safely?" I asked anxiously "There's everv hope if Mr. Borgis has the' management. The only difficulty will be in crossing the frontier, but if you have no enemies here who are likely to warn the police you may reasonably expect to see your friends in three or four weeks' time."

Commenting on this, interview as we left Carter street, Mr. Pelham said: Continued on 1 hird Page.

Popular Everywhere.

Beginniug with a small local sale in a retail drug store, tbe business of tfooa's Sarsaparilla has steadily increased until there is scarcely a village or hamlet in the United States where it is unkuown.

To-day Hood's Sarsaparilla stands at the bead in the medicine world, admired in prosperity and envied in merit by thousands of would-be competitors.

It has a larger sale than any other medicine before the American public, and probably greater than all other Sarsaparilias and blood purifiers combined.

Such success proves merit. If you are sick is it hot the medicine for you to try? Hood's Sarsaparilla Cures

A Persian Boudoir.

A Persian lady's rooms do not occupy much of her time or attention. They are very simple, and taste plays no important part in them. The walls are either plainly tinted, ornamented with scrolls, carved in plaster or inlaid up to the ceiling with fragments of looking glasses. Her bedding by day is rolled up in a corner of the room she generally inhabits. On a shelf in every niche stands a turquoise colored vase, on which rests a strongly scented shaddock.

This is the only decoration excepting the exquisite carpets and rugs which are spread about the floor. She is thoroughly domestic and treats her women servants and slaves much as if they were her equals, interesting herself in the cookery and often making the sweetmeats in which an oriental household delights.—Upholsterer.

Miss Dama Moffitt

In Danger of Consumption

"I was sick and discouraged when I called on the village doctor. He intimated I Jiad congumption and would not live long. I decided to

Hood's^Cures

take Hood's Sarsaparilla and I am now well and hearty." Miss DAMA MOFFITT, Eox 73, Ashmore, 111. Eo suro to get

Hood'3 Rills

effectively, on tho liver and bov/cls.

A ,y

25c.

'e .jscri ^ciuBiMSK'S

MAGAZINE will bring into your home twelve monthly numbers, aggregating over 1500 pages of the best and most interesting reading, and more than 700 beautiful illustrations.

Announcements.

George W. Cable will begin in the January numbers romance entitled "John March, Southerner." Two other Important serials have been engaged: J. M. Barrie, author of the famous "Little Minister," has written a new novel, the first since that famous story. George Meredith, the great English novelist, has in preparation a novel entitled "The Amazing Marriage."

8HOKT STORIES will be abundantTV. D. Howells, Miss Elliot, W. H. Bl*hop, LudovicHalevy, Paul Bourget, Joel

Chandler Harris Snd many new writers will contribute.

8TUDJJSS OF AMERICAN 1.IFE will be an Important feature, Including Newport, Bar Harbor, Lenox, elc., and the West.

THE ILLUSTRATIONS

win be even more

numerous and beautiful than ever. A series of Frontispieces chosen by Philip Gilbert Hamerton will be especially notable. Complete Prospectus sent on request.

SPECIAL OFFER. The numbers for 1893, and a subscriptlon for 1884

$4.50

The same, with back numbers, bound in cloth ..... 6.00

8axnple

Copy,

10 Cents.

Charles Scribner's Sons,

748 Broadway, New York.

THE BEST AND?

PUREST MEDICINE

EVER MADE.

Don't be without a bottle. You will not regret it. Try it to-day. What makes you tremble so I Yovn NERVES are all unstrung, and NEED a gentle, soothing TONIC & to assist nature to repair the damage wlu Mi your excesses have caused Sulphur Bitters

IS NOT A CHEAP RUM OR WHISKY

DRINK

to be taken by the glass like other preparations which stimulate only to DESTROY. If you have FAILED to receive any benefit from other 5s] medicines or doctors, do not despair,

Use Sulphur Bitters immediately. In all cases of stubborn, deep seated -j diseases, Sulphur Bitters is the best medicine to use. Don't wait until & to-morrow, try a bottle to-day.

Send 3 2-cent stamps to A. P. Ordway & Co., Boston, Mass., for best medical work published

EPILEPSY OR FITS

Can this disease be cured? Most physicians Baf No—/say, Yes all forms and the worst cases.

Hood's.

AI«

ter 80 years study and experiment I have fonnd th« remedy.—Epilepsy ia cared by it cured, not snb dned by opiates—the old, treacherous, quack treat* ment. Do not despair. Forget past impositions CM your purse, past outrages on your confidence, past failures. Look forward, not backward. My remedy is of to-day. Valuable work on the subject, *nd: large bottle of the remedy—sent free for triaL Mention Post-Offlce and Express address. Prof. W. H. PEEKE, F. D.. 4 Cedar St., New

York.

Are,

you

This

'GoihlG cUnfiff

'Mmteb. FBR HEALTH, PlE/l5llR£L°- BlJslllE&S

WRJJE Qpatmore G.P.A. IJ)l!lSVlLLE04 tf/lLLER3.i

rORfflMmjD&CPJPfiVL

OFTHEEULU C0/JS

JHDTWRIDA.

Railroad Time Tables.

Trains marked thus (P) denote Parlor

attached. Trains marked thus (8)

Cars

denote

Hleeping Cars attached daily. Trains marked thus (B) denote Buffet Cars attached. Train# marked thus run dally. All other train* run dally, Sundays excepted.

-VJLIETID-A.IJI.A- ZLUCNTIE.

MAIN LINE.

LEAVE FOR THE WEST.

No, No, No. No, No. No.

r.ct easily, yet prompt!"

7 Western &xf(V) 6 St. Louis Mall 1 Fast Line1"(P) 21 St. Louis Ex* (D&V) 18 Eff. Acc 11 Fast iMail* ...

and

1.40 a 10.11 2.20 3.10 ni 4.05 0.04

I. KAVE FOR THE EAST.

No. No. No, No, No, No,

No. No. No. No. No. No.

1.30 am 2.20 am 7.16 a 12.47 2.20 pm 5.05

12 Cluclnnliti Express (S) 6 New York Express (8feV). 4 Mail and Accommodation 20 Atlantic Express (DP&V). 8 Fast Line 2 Indianapolis Acc

ARRIVE FROM THE EAST.

No, No. No. No. No. No.

7 Western Express* (V) .... 1.25am 5 St. Louis Mall* 10.05 am 1 Fast Line* (P) 2.05pm 21 St. Louis Ex* (D&V) 3.05 8 Mail and Accommodation 6.45 11 Fast Mail* 9.00 pm

ARRIVE FROM THE WEST.

12 Cincinnati Express (8) 1.20 am 0 New York Express (S&V). 2.10 am 14 Effingham Ac ?-89aw 20 Atlantic Express (P&V). .12.42 pm 8 Fast Line 2.05 2 Indianapolis Acc 5.00 pm

T. H. & L. DIVISION.

LEAVE FOR THE WORTH.

No. 62 South Bend Mall 6.20 am No. 54 South Bend Express 4.00 ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH. No. 51 Terre Haute Express 11.45 a mNo. 63 South Bend Mall 7.30

PEORIA DIVISION.

ARRIVE FROM NORTHWEST.

No. 78Pass Ex .11.00am No. 76 Pass Mall & Ex 7.00 pm LEAVE FOR NORTHWEST, No. 75 Pass Mall & Ex 7.05 am No. 77 Pass

Ex 3.26 pm

ZE3. &c T. U"ARRIVE FROM SOUTH.

No. 6 Nash A C. Lim* (V) 4.80 am No. 2 T. H. & East Ex* 11.60 am No. 60 Accommodation* 5.00 No. 4 Ch A Ind Ex* (S & P) 10.50 No. 8 World's Fair Special* .4.20 pm

LEAVE FOR SOUTH.

No. 8 Ch & Ev Ex* (SAP) ... 6.10 am No. 7 World's Fair Special* 11.66 am No. 1 Ev A Ind Mail 3.16 No. 6 Ch $ N Llm* 10.00

ZES- &c I.

ARRIVE FROM SOOTH.

No. 48 Worth Mixed 11.00 am NO. 82 Mail A Ex 4.20 pm LEAVE FOR SOUTH. No. 33 Mail A Ex 8.50 am No.48 Worth'n Mixed 3.20 pm

O- Sc IE-

ARRIVE FROM NORTH.

No. 3 Ch ryash Ex*(8) ....... 610 am No. 7 Nashville Special*

(PAB).

.8 00

No. 1 Ch A Ev Ex 1.50 pm No. 5CAN Lim (DAV). ..... -10.00pm LEAVE FOR NORTH. No. 8 AN Llm (DAV) 4-50 am No. 2 HA Ch Ex 12.10pm No. 8 Chicago Special* (PAB). 3.20 pm' No.

Nash A Ex*(S) 11.15

C. C. C. &I.-BIG- 4 I GOING KAJST No 10Boston ANY Ex*. 1.30am No. 2 Cleveland Acc 7.25 am No. 18 Southwestern Limited*. 1.01 No. 8 Mail train* a66pm

GOING WEST.

No. 7 St. Louis Ex* L45am No. 17 Limited* L45pm No. 8 Accommodation 7.48 pm So. Mall Train* 10.00 am