Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 27, Number 31, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 30 January 1897 — Page 2

LAMPLIGHT.

Dear little lady, so tumbled and sleepy, Kneeling at dusk with her head on my knee! Lamplight is dim, and the shadows are creepy,

Dear little lady, and, ah, sad me I

Baying a prayer that the angels most soften— Ah, little lady, could only it be! Time was wlwu I prayed, too, often and often,

Longing for -ne that we ne'er shall see.

Dear little lady, till play days are over Kneel here a", dnsk at my own tired kneel Ne'er conld you know what is under the clover,

Dear little lady, but, oh, sad me. —Potft Wheeler in New York Press.

TWO WIVES.

"It's grown chilly, hasn't it#" "Oh, yes," said Agnes Lawton, with a sacrastic laugh. She was huddling in her dapper street gear before the pennon of orackling flume on her "friend's hearth "It'e blown horribly chilly, Marion—for me!" "Another quarrel, I suppose, with your husband:'" "A quarrel this time that ends everything. I'm going to my mother in Boston." "Don't, jny dear."

Murion Kin island spoke thus in tones tranquil and low. She was swaying herself softly in a rocking chair, and she bad folded her anus in a leisurely way. She was a large, blond woman—not handsome, but with a beautiful figure und a face full of sweet gravity. "Oh, you've alwnys said that," replied young Mrs. Law ton, frowning at the fire

But now I mean to disobey your counsel. "Vory well, Agnes as you please. Remember I've always said ono thing. Your husband loves you dovotedly"— "Ah, that's the very point, Marionl Ho loves mo, but not devotedly. He"—and hero Mrs. Lawton lowered her face and drew out the next words in a dogged, dragging undertone—"he is not faithful."

The oscillations of Mrs. Kingsland's rocking chair quickened the least little bit. "What husband is?" "Yours." "Oh, Trent—yes! I wasn't thinking of him." Hhocolored, biting hor lips. "What is tho present trouble, Agnes? Tell me." "It's very simple. I found a note in Fred's—I mean Mr. Lawton's—overcoat pocket."

My dear Agnes, what were you doing there?" "Doing there?" "You wore spying—jealously spying," Mid Marion, with her usual calm. "Admit it."

You're orueler than usual, Marlon. 1 was a fool to como hero. Mamma will sympathize), however. I shall tako the 3 o'clock train for Boston." "Was the noto very dreadful?" "Oh, it told its own story. And, as you're aware, this is not tho first time"—

That you've gone through your husband's pockets? 1 know. And the signature?" "Initials." "I see. And very violent quarrel followed?" "The most violent we have ever had. And tho lust wo shall over lmvo."

Marion Klngsland stoppod rocking. "Agnes," she said, breaking a pause, "1 don't know a husband who in public is more ruspoctful, more attontivo, more positively gallant to his wife than yours." "In public!" bristled the other. "What doos that moan?" "It moans a great donl more than many a wifo gets—many a wife of our acquaintance whom I've hoard you openly pity in my hearing. Now, answor mo frankly. Might not that letter which you found and road have implied a flirtation, a passing sentiment, rather than the very lurid and scandalous interpretation you put upon ltf I say, niii'ht it not? Think for a moment before you answer."

Agnos tossed her head, docked in a tiny bonnet of tati"l'd pansios. "Well, perhaps," she presently conceded, with dist'-'.ci rcliu Umo. "l'erhaps. repeated Marion. "Now that is at least, an admission, it pnts Frodorie': in a more pardonable light. Hut it doos not excuse you from bolug most rashly Indiscreet. "Oh," fumed Agnes, "I do so detest that kind of philosophy!"

Wo woiuoii can cultivate none that is sounder." ••We women, Marion! IIow would you fool, pray, if our Trent"— "Never mind my Trent, dear. Lot us talk genera' tins for a few minutes. There's hardi household that hasn't its Bluebeard's chamber."

Kxcept yours. And so you can nlford' "Generalities, please, Agnes, just for a little while. Thoro are Fall mas who do pry, and there are Fatimas who don't. Tho latter ha by far tho best time of it —that is, when their Bluebeards treat them fondly ml courteously. Discretion is a h'.erful safeguard to conjugal contentment. Tho moral obligation with mou should be as strong as it is with women. 1 freely grant you that. But society does not

grant

it. mi in the lives of our groat-

gre.it gnat nulchildren it will not practically ciopl any such system of ethics unless I mi-erahly err. It is a system talked about, written about, and, if at some day it v\ ill be actively exploited, o.i that dav over- body who now will Ho. ns '.«• In «ravr? wh.•--. dcc]?ost cut b* uL- toiu have grow undecipherable blur- I he new woman may dream her dreams and oven realize a few of them. But, after all. it is still*a man's world, and a man's world for many centuries it must remain. Hitlnm will reap nothlnq by hor curiosity except unhnppinoss. So many of them live and die in blissful ignorance And it is so much bettor thnt they should Men are men. and the leopard does not change his spots. Why not lot well alone* A wife can tend and water her jealousy and her suspicion precisely ns if they were two different specimens of fern In a favorite jardiniere.* Of course marital neglect, til treatment, rudeness, are a.I autre chose. But I have often taken a thoughtful survey, Agnes, of my own social surroundings. They are very much the same as yours, my dear. Wo often meet at the mime tens, dinners, dances. We know the same set—the smart set, I •oppose ono would call It—and most of our men friends are married, like ourselves. At 1 vo roj««tedly -iskod myself. judging as much by what they don't say as by v.*hat they do say, if a vnt amount of family torment may not be avoided the simple prwoss of Katlnia rriratnlr.K from all tntoricrenoo with Bluebeard's Icej hunch."

Hen1 Atrnos sprang from her seat hv the fire and looked tearfully, Impetuously. round the tasteful sitting room of her friend. "Oh. Marion," she cried, "you tell uk you are talking generalities, but to they are the most piercing personalities' And why? Because I'm not only jeakn. of him—I'm jealous of you! Prom you.

Serene height of perfect married happiness, the wife of a man who worships you, as all the world knows, who is a model of every virtue under the sun, and who probably never looks at a woman without thinking how far she falls below yon, his ideal, it is easy enough to preach discretion and circumspection. You've the key to all your apartments. You're a Fatima with a Bluebeard who doesn't know th8 meaning of a locked door." Here Agnes laughed in a sort of hysteric way and pointed to a near chair. "That's one of his overcoats, now." While speaking she slipped across the room and lifted a mass of dark broadcloth, holding it aloft. "Why, yes," said Marion, raising her quiet brows in surprise. "He came back this morning after leaving for down town and ordered a thicker one of Strayne because of the changed weather. Strayne must have left it there. He's a good servant enough, but he has his careless moods."

Agnes, with another odd laugh, thrust her hand into one of the pockets. "You've no fear of finding anything, you irritatingly happy Marion. You are"—

Suddenly she paused. She bad drawn forth a lilac tinted envelope which had been raggedly torn open at one of its sides. "A woman's hand, Marion," she exclaimed, "or I've never seen one! And the date of arrival four days back. It smells of violets too. Well, really!" "Agnes!"

Marion went forward and took the note from her friend's grasp with uncharacteristic speed. She was pale already, but she grew paler as she scanned the superscription and then raised the envelope to her nostrils.

She loved her husband intensely and know that he returned her love. Not the slightest incident of her life had she ever kept concealea from him, and £he had always felt con3dent that on his own side there was a like absolution of confidence and candor. It stabbed her to the soul as she thought now that no forgetfulness had prevented him from telling her of this note. They led fashionable lives, but they led them together. For all that they might sometimes pass hours apart, their constant lntimaoy and comradery were beyond dis pute.

For a few seconds she stood perfectly still, holding the letter. Then she went to the overcoat whioh Agnes had just replaced upon the chair and slipped the letter back into ono of its side pookets.

She was a woman who had always been held to possess no common share of self command. She justified this belief now. "Bluebeard's chamber," she said, with a smllo, but it was a smile quite dim and joyless. And then she raised one finger and put it against her lips in a gesture that not only symboled silence, but enjoined it.

Agnes watched her In astonishment. She knew that there was never any pose about her friend that what Marion seriously did and said were done and said from a sincerity at daggers drawn with sham. "And you'll never oven ask him whom it's from?" Agnes exolaimed. "Nover." "But you suspect"— "No matter what I suspect." "And you'll never lot him know you saw It and didn't open It?" "Never." "But this thing, Marion, will oome between you and him. It may ruin your future happiness." "Tliatoan'tbe helped. If It's what I think it is" (her placid voice broke a little horo), "then letting him know would do more harm than good." "But perhaps it's the merest trifle, after all," said Agues, she herself now generously turning consoler despite her own sorrows, "some request for financial advice or a loan of money from some woman whom we both know." "Perhaps," returned Marion musingly. And thon it passed through her mind: "Ilo would have told me if it had been that. Ho tolls me everything—or eo till now I'vo believed." "Ah, good morning, Agnes," a voice suddenly said in tho half open doorway. "Having a gossipy powwow with my wife, eh? You didn't expect to soe me hero at this hour, did you? You thought I wat» too muoli of a poor, hardworking Wall street drudge, didn't you? And you were quite right. Iain." "Trent," faltered Marlon.

She had instantly seen that her husband was a trifle paler than usual, and that some Inward agitation, which he struggled to hide, controlled him. His eyes, wandering quickly yot covertly about the room, lit on the overcoat. "Ah," ho said, "it's here." And then he caught tho garment up and thrust a hand into one of its pookets. Meanwhile ho was talking with speed and now addressed his wifo without looking at her. "The faot Is, Marion, I remembered when half way down town In the elevated that I'd left an important business letter in this coat Strayne has just told me that he forgot to take the coat up stairsstupid fellow—so I hurried down stairs again to get it— Ah, here's the letter I want!"

Marlon sa*v, if her friend did not see, the gleam of a lilao tinted envelope as it was swept to a breast pocket of the overcoat which adorned the person of Mr. Trent Klngsland.

And thon tnis gentleman, a little flushed after his lat» pallor, said a few words of gonial fare'—ll to Agues, made a few buoyant waves of the hand toward his wife and gramfully disappeared.

The two women looked at one another in silence. "Marlon," at length said Agnes In a voice vibrant with feeling, "he came back to got that letter. And he was very concerned about it, was he not?" "Very."

Agnes hastened to her friend's side. "Marion, do you mean that you'll never say a word to him even now?" "No. I shall never say a word to him even now."

Agues looked steadily at the floor as If In deep meditation. Then she caught one of Marlon's hands in both her own. "But yon will suffer." "Yes, I shall—suffer." "And—give—no—sign?" "And give no sign."

Agnes stooped and kissed the band sl,e was holding. After a slight interval she said somewhat brokenly, "Marion, I—I don't think I'll take the 8 o'clock train to Boston after nil."—Edgar Fawcett in Collier's Weekly.

Cool on th« Gmllow*.

"The coolest man that ever mounted scaffold to le hanged was George Wat«*m who killed Captain Mentor nbopt 25 yrr,?-* ago," s»ld lH*tvcti*e illll Bulu^r. "V. pon was hanged on the old cm.nuns !art. of York sure t. When the cap was pli.ee* over his head, lie didn't say auyttilnjg. trap w.is spn ig and tho rope broke. W* son wr-.» haufed back on the platform, am just U»fore swung off again he Baits. "Cia.-u!. en. t.m't let that happen again.' —Cincinnati Ki oairer. r\aaae«H'iT» MT-—w

ij,,

If

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stand it upon a canister to give it the necessary elevation. Through the flat cork on the surface of the water is a stout straw, which transversely supports one of the same diameter. To the latter are attached two other straws of smaller diameter, each of these having a bit of straw about an inch in length attached to the end at an obtuse angle, with the outlets cut on the slant to facilitate the exit of the water.

All the joints are hollow and axe made water tight with sealing wax. The ends of the transverse straw are likewise closed with the wax, but the ends of the depending straws are left open.

Now, to start this unique homemade apparatus in action, let two persons suck the open ends of the depending straws until the water begins to flow, and when they take their mouths away the device will begin to revolve, while the water pours steadily from the open ends.

This revolving siphon will soon empty the tumbler, but you may keep the action up as long as you please by pouring water in as fast as the straws let it pour out.

A Boy and a Banana Skin. One day last week a white haired old gentleman was walking up Fifth avenue with

hiB

Some Schoolboy Definitions.

In a recent examination some boys were asked to define certain words and to give a sentence illustrating the meaning. Here area few: Frantic is wild I picked some frantifc flowers. Athletic, strong the vinqgar was too athletio to use. Tandem, one behind another the boys sit tandem at school. And then some single words are funnily explained. Dust is mud with the wet squeezed out. Fins are fishes' wings. Stars are the moon's eggs. Circumference is the distance around the middle of the outside. —Educational Gaaette.

Cork Toys.

Curious toys may be made of cork. One of these is the well known little tumbler such as is generally constructed of pith. But cork, especially if it be hollowed, will answer the purpose quite as well. Make the puppet of three or four corks, shape and paint it as skillfully as you can, and glue to the feet, or under them, little hemispheres of lead. When thrown into any position, the figure, of course, rights itself, and, like a oat, always falls on its feet. It is quite goarible to make a cat of pith or of cork

How Indeed?

"If it wasn't for me, my class in school wouldn't have any standing at all," said Hubert. "Nonsense!" said his aunt "Your mother s^ys you are the foot of it." "I am," said Hubert. "Howoouldit •tand if it didn't have a foot?"—Philadelphia Times.

Little Mary's Lafto.

Little Mary was sent to the store one day to have some sirup sent up far the table. "Does your mother want refined sirap?" asked the merchant. "I think she does," answered Mary. "She is a very nice lady."—Youth's Companion.

One Good

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, JANUARY 30, 1897.

FOB LITTLE FOLKS.

WATER POWER.

A Simple Little Engine That Any Smart Boy Can lake.

The principle illustrated in the accompanying cut might readily serve to generate power without the use of machinery. We give it, however, merely ts an interesting and easily made experiment

Pour water into a good sized glass tumbler tax til it is two-thirds full and

cane. Not far in front of him

dawdled a boy eating a big ripe banana. It was near the noon hour, and the street was thronged with people hurrying off to lunch. Presently the boy, having finished the banana, dropped the skin on the sidewalk and went whistling up the street. The old gentleman stopped and bent over slowly, leaning heavily on his oane, and picked up the banana skin. Just then the boy looked over his shoulder and saw what the old man had done. He stopped, with his hands in his pockets, and watched ouriously. Close to the curbing stood a forlorn old dray horse, with its head hung down and one leg bowed out. He looked as if he hadn't had enough to eat in months.

The old man held out the banana skin, and the discouraged old horse instantly pricked up his ears. He was evidently suspicious at first that a joke was being played on him, but it was only for a moment. He reached forward eagerly and nipped the banana skin with his soft lips. When it was gone, he looked up wistfully, but the white haired old man was walking on up the street with his cane. The boy stopped whistling. He was thinking, and so were a scove of other people who saw the little incident. —Chicago Record.

R«MOB.

Bettie Witle®»—Why does that little boy always go barefooted? Sallie Knowall—Why. because he has more feet- than shoes.—Harper's Ronnn Table.

He Held the Winning Hand.

They were having the usual game of cards in the smoking apartment. The traveling men swapped jokes, nailed lies and told bigger ones. The stranger who just sat iii to fill out the game contributed nothing but smiles and an occasional general laugh to the social features of the occasion.

Every once in awhile a jovial drummer would announce that he had somo poker in his hand, and an occasional side bet was made under the rules of the great American game.

Finally one of these challenges'elicited from the stranger an admission that poker was about the only game of cards of which he did not possess some knowledge, but he had rather a peculiar hand, and because of the value it would have in other games he would just take a chance.

Bets were rapidly made until there was $150 in the pot, when a call was made, and the stranger awkwardly asked how many points his opponent had. "We don't count points," was the answer, "but I have four eights. I rather think that will take the plunder.'' "Well, I declare!" gasped the stranger, as he loaned back and mopped his brow. "Hero I am with high, jack, game, big casino, an ace, a run of five and a flush," as he threw down the ace, king, queen, jack and ten of diamonds. "I really thought I had you beat,'' and he shoved the money toward the paralyzed drummer.

In the midst of the roar that followed "A royal flush!" was shouted by some one, and the stranger was hilariously assured that he had won. His surprised face never gave away so much as a chuckle until he was alone that night. —New York World.

Spiders and Their Ways.

We find as marked differences in habits, tastes and characters among spiders as among human beings. Some kinds prefer always living in houses or cellars, not seeming to care for any fresh air or out of door exercise. Mr. Jesse tells of two spiders that lived for 13 years in opposite corners of a drawer which was used for soap and candles. Others delight in making burrows in the earth, in dwelling under stones or behind the loose bark on trees, and others live under water. Many never leave their webs, but patiently wait, hoping some insect will become entangled in the snares they have set. Others dash about and seize upon every luckless insect that crosses their path. The most adventurous of all are those that sail out into the world on one of their own little threads.

In the bright autumn weather, if we observe closely, we may sometimes see some of our own small spiders asoend to the tops of trees, fences and other high objects, rise on their toes, turn the spinners upward, throw out a quantity of silk and sail away. They grasp the silken thread with their feet and seem to be enjoying themselves as much as the birds and butterflies.—Margaret W. Leighton in Popular Science Monthly.

Dr. Nicoll on American Newspapers.

Dr. Nicoll, who came to this country with Mr. Barrie, read the American newspapers whije he was here and audaciously admits that he liked them. He has confessed to The Westminster Budget that in his opinion no American institution is more misunderstood abroad than the press. He tlAnks our newspaless sensational than they seem to and says, very truly, that you may look in vain in them for such matter as the divorce reports which the most proper English papers publish. Undoubtedly we Americans like the newspapers we have better, on the whole, than any others in the market, but we are so continually advised that our passion for them is guilty, that while we satisfy it with prodigality we seldom attempt to Justify or even to exouse it, so that to hear our journals praised by a visitor excites emotions of considerable novelty. After all, a liking for newspapers is, like a liking for one's fellow creatures, apt to concentrate itself on individuals. If Dr. Nicoll had been impolitic enough to say which American papers he liked, his comments would hav* gained in interest all that they lost in discretion.—Harper's Weekly.

The Care of Clothing.

Always shake, brush and fold your clothes at night," is Walter Germain's advioe to men in The Ladies' Home Journal. "Never hang coats—fold them. Trousers should be folded by putting the two waist buttons together and preserving the crease. Fold lengthwise and then double. Coats are folded lengthwise, the sleeves in half first, then each half of the coat to the sleeve line, then the two remaining halves, the lining being on the outside. Waistcoats are folded in half, lengthwise. Never lounge about your room in your clothes—nothing destroys them so much. When you oosne in during the afternoon or at night, remove your coat, waistcoat and trousers and put on a bath robe if you are to remain in your room for any time. Always have an old coat at the office."

The Largest British Painting.

The largest picture ever painted by a British artist is said to be Sir James Thornhill's work on the ceiling of the great hall at Greenwich hospital, representing the founders, William. Ill and Queen Mary, surrounded by the attributes of national prosperity, which measured 118 feet by

50

foet-

The largest picture ever painted and exhibited as such by a British artist is one by John Martin, the subject beinr "Joshua Commanding the Sun to Stanu StilL'' It was hung on the walls of the academy in i816.

Another large portrait group picture, painted by Phillips, containing over 600 portraits, measured 20 feet by 17 feet.— Strand Magazine.

Tree Planting la Sweden.

About 600,000 trees are annually planted by Swedish school children under the guidance of their teacher*— Pittsburg Dispatch.

-.Hi?. 1

-VfOT**

The Childhood of Genius.

As far I have studied the childhood of genius it commonly shows itselJ less in performance than in character, and, alas, not agreeably. The future genius is often violent, ferocious, fond of solitude, disagreeable iu society.

The great Du Guesclin, the scourge of the English invaders of France, was a most odious boy. His parents had to make him dine at a table apart. He was rude, furious, a bully he beat every boy he could lay hands on ho ran away from home he led companies oi peasant children against other companies he was the terror, of the neighborhood and the ugliest page as he became "the ugliest knight in France." This was the boyhood of a great military genius the boyhood it was of a little savage.

Scott's childhood was noisy. He yelled old poems at the top of his voice. He loved the lonely hills. He read forever, when he was not wandering alone, ana he remembered anything that he read. He was a dreamer, a teller of rom:uice& to himself. He delighted in fighting, as did Keats. He studied everything except his books. His enthusiasm for poetry made a lady recognize him for a genius at the age of 6, but his father thought he would end as a strolling fiddler.

Napoleon, again, was sullen, lonely, a dreamer, and always "spoiling for 8 fight,'' like Du Guesclin.

Unluckily, sullen, dreamy, pugnacious boys are not at all uncommon. They do not become Scotts—not that lie was sullen—nor Du Guesclins nor Napoleons nor Byrons—for Byron, too, was a passionate, lonely, morbid kind of boy, with terrible fits of temper. Hia early poems were trash.

Shelley's early poems were trash. Scott's were as almost any clever schoolboy can write, and there is no promiso at all in Tennyson's "Poems by Two Brothers."—Andrew Lang in North American Review.

Orant on the Battle of the Wilderness.

The general in chief, Grant, talked for some time with officers of the staff about the results of the battle of tho previous days. He said in this connection: "All things in this world are relative. While we were engaged in the Wilderness I could not keep from thinking of the first fight I ever saw—the battle of Palo Alto. As I looked at tho long line of battle, consisting of 8,000 men, I felt that General Taylor had such a fearful responsibility resting upon him that I wondered how he ever had the nerve to assume it, and when, after the fight, the casualties were reported and the losses ascertained to be nearly 60 in killed, wounded and missing, the engagement assumed a magnitude in my eyes which was positively startling. When the news of the victory reached the States, the windows in every household were illuminated, and it was largely instrumental in making General Taylor president of the United States. Now, such an affair would scarcely be deemed important enough to roport to headquarters." He little thought at that moment that the battles then in progress would be chiefly instrumental in making the commander himself president of the United States.—General Horace Porter in Century.

The Whole Story

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Hood's Pills cure nausea, sick headache, indigestion, biliousness. All druggists, 35 cents.

A

Fainous Palace.

The Chateau do Rambouillot, which is now the favorite residence of tho president of the French republic, has a history remote from the literary fad of the eighteenth century which has made tho word Eumbouillet significant of an epoch of French culture. It was iu this chateau that Francis I breathed his lust and Charles was deserted in his death. It is not generally known, however, how Louis XVI became its proprietor. Until 1785 Rambouillet belonged to the Due do Penthievre, grandson of Louis XIV and Mme. de Montespan. Louis XVI wished very much to possess it. This desire became a fixed passion, which was augmented by his dislike of its owner. But one day he declared, "The possession of Rambouillet would be the happiness of my life.'' To which the duke graciously replied: "God forbid that I should be the cause of your unhappiness. Sire, Rambouillet is yours on your own terms.'' The price fixed was 11,000,000 francs, of which 0,000,000 were paid the next day in gold irom the royal treasury.

Great

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In Hood's Sarsaparilla. Great proved by the voluntary stateUlvS ments of thousands of men and women show that Hood's Sarsaparilla actually does possess DnuiAr

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DEAE MES. PINKHAM

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Oh, if I had known of it sooner, and years of misery. I

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can recommend it to every woman."— Katb Yodeb, 408 W. 9th St., Cincinnati, 0.

Should advice be required, write to Mrs. Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass., who has the utter confidence of all intelligent American women. She will promptly tell what to do, free of charge. Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound, which is easily obtained at any druggist's, will restore anjr ailing woman to her normal condition quickly and permanently.

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CONSUMPTION

To the Editor—Pleaseinform your readers that I have a positivo remedy for the above named disease. By its timely use thousands of hopeless cases have been permanently cured. I shall be glad to send two bottles of my remedy free to any of your readers who have consumption if they will send me their express and post office address. Respectfully, T. A. Slorum, M. C.,

No. 183 Pearl Street, Now York.

send your nanvor a Souvenir of the Works of Eugene Field,

FIELDS FLOWERS

the Eugene Tield monument Souvenir

The most beautiful Art Production of the century. "A small bunch of the moat fragrant of bio*, inn Gathered frob tbe brood acres of Eugene Field's '. »rra of Love." Contains a selection of the most beautiful of the poems of Kunene Field. Handsomely illustrated by tliirty-five of the world's grentest artists ns tlicir contribution to the Monument Fund. But for tiie noble contributions of tbs great artists tbls boob could not have been manufactured Or S7.00. For sale at book stores, or sent prepaid on receipt of $1.10. The love offering to the Child's Poet Laureate, published by the Committee to create a fund to build the Monument and to care for the family of the beloved poet.

Eugene Field Monument Souvenir Fund, 180 Mooros®tfeet, China* Mi

N

OTIOE TO UElltS, (JKED1TOKH, ETO.

In the matter of the estate of Ernest J. LunKen, deceased. In the Vigo Circuit court, February term, 1897.

Notice is hereby given that Ewald O. Langen, as administrator of the estate of Ernest J. Langen, deceased, has presented and fliotl his account and vouchors in final settlement of said estate, and that tho same will come up for the examination and action of said Circuit court, on the Ifith day of February, 1M)7, at which time all heirs, creditors or legatees of said estate are required to appear in said court and show cause. If any there be, why said account and vouchers should not be approved.

EWALD O. LA NO EN, Administrator.

Witness, the clerk and seal of said Vigo Circuit court, at Terre Haute, Indiana, till 25th day of January, IH97. [SBAlf.] DAVin L. WATHON, Clerk.

T?T1?CH York and

JC ll Li5lI

Baltimore

OYSTERS.

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL.

E. W. JOHNSON, 615 MAIN ST.

JjTRANK D. HIGH, M. D.

Office, Rose Dispensary, Rooms 208-209. TERRE HAUTE, INI). Dlreases of Eye, Ear. Nose and Throat. Hours—9 to 12 a. m., 1:30 to 4 p. m. Sundays Oto 10 a. m.

C. F. WILLIAM, D. D. S.

DENTAL PARLOUS

Corner Sixth and Main Streets,

TERRE HAUTE. IND.

JOHN O. PIETY, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW and NOTARY PUBLIC. 423^ Wabash Avenue

Wanted-An Idea

Protect your Ideaa: tb«r may bring rou w« Write JOHl* WZDiiERBUHN ft CO., Patent Mjn. Washington, D. C-. for tb«!r 91,800 Miss lod jlit of two bandnii invention* wanted.

A. 1. HIOOIN8.

'1

Lawyer.

Telephone 332. Over Mc Keen's Ban I

I The Rosy Freshness

I And a velvety aoftness of the akin is inriI riably obtained by those who uae Poboki's Complexion