Greencastle Star, Greencastle, Putnam County, 15 October 1881 — Page 6

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THE STAR.

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T'a GRZAf'

CURE FOR

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THE CREAT , Ji UliL TNG TOX HO T TE. fWNn other line runs Three Thronth Pnfli senper Tmins Dully between Chicago, Dee Moines, Connell Uluffs. Omnhn, Lincoln. 8t. Joseph, Atchison, Topeka and Kansas City, Direc t connections for all poiuta in Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyominp, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, Idaho, Oregon and California. The Shortest, Speediest and Most Comfortable Route via Hannibal to Fort Scott, Denison, Dallas, Houston. Austin, San Antonio, Galveston and all points in Texas. The unouuuied inducements offered by this Line to Travelers and Tourists, are as follows: The celebrated Pullman (16-wheel) Palace Sleeping Cars, run only on this Line. C., 11. & Q. Palace Drawing-Room Cars, with Horton's Reclining (.'hairs. No extra charge for Seats m Keclinina’ Chain. The famous C., H. & Q. Palace Dining Cars. Gorgeous Smoking Oars fitted with Elegant High-Hacked Rattan Revolving ( hairs for the exc lusive use of firstclass passengers. Steel Track and Superior Equipment, combined with their Great Through Car Arrangement, makes this, above allot here, the favorite Route to the South, South-West, and the Far West. Try it, a.xd you will find traveling a luxury instead of a discomfort. Through Tickets via this Celebrated Line for sale at all offices in the United States and Canada. All information about Rates of Fare, Sleeping Car Accommodations, Time Tables, &cw wiii to Chi ei i '.’O.v oivcubv noeiving to PERCIVAL LOWELL. General Passenger Agent, Chicago. T. .1. POTTER. General Manager, Chicago. MBS. LYOfA H. PINKHAM. OF LY NN. MASS.

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Frank A. Arnold, Editor and Proprietor

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DISCUVEREIl or LYDIA r. FJNKHAM’S yE:-sTA£L5 cc::?ou:;d. The Positive Cm For nil Female Complaints, Thlf rrrpnrnt!<m, ftslN r.nrvo si^Tilrtes, consluta of Vc^rc-talilo l*n>|H-rtiC3 that are !•: umI' se to the most delicate inv.tliJ. Uinm one trial the iiicrit4 of this Com pound will be recognised, as r< lief is immediato ^ and r.hen iis tiwis continued, in ninety nine ciuw*8 in a bun. dred, a p'-rmanentcurf i'.t 'ec'. ■ '..'istbouEandu will ten* tif.r. On account of its pp>v> n merits, it is to-day ro commended ami prescribevl by the best pbyclcinus In

the country.

It will cure entirely the worrt form of ffwlllng of the uterus, Leucorrhaa, irrc^rular and painful ^leiiptruatlon, all Ovarian TroulilcH, Innanmmtion and l’lccratif»n. Floodings. allDisplacemcnt* ami tlie eon sequent Bpinal weakness, and i i <-q*oelaIly adaptcil to the Changa of Life. It will dissolve and eipcl turnon 1 in the ut"! i in an eai-ly ntuge <*f development. The tendency to caneerous humors thi ro Is checked very vpeedily by its use. In act it has proved to l»e the giani«*t and best remedy that bus ever been diMCovcr t-i It permeates every portl' n of the syrtem, andgivos new life and vigor. Itremovf s faint ness,natuloncy, dor y.< nil era Ting for etimulapts, and relieves weakn—*» of the atomach , It cures Bloating. Tlcadaelies. Krrvouf Prostration. - ! • o—tow and 2ndl Ration Tliat feeling of !><*aring flown, causing pnin, weight and bnekache, is always jk rmanently etm «1 I y its use It will at all times, aud umicrull rircumst/m pfs net in hannony villi tho law that g"vcrna ti.«

male system.

For KiilneyComplainte of either n r tldt conq>ouna

l? unsurpassed.

Lydia E. Finkham's V' "table Compound laprepared at T! I and • • V.' rn A Venn*’. Lynn Mn.«* llicc 01.00 Six bt ttlcg for $ » Sent by mail In the

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. 17inoinnaH. Ohio.

; •', Notary Public, Acknowledgements > ••romiitly attend-

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THE UOLDES WEDDING. Wake up, wife!—the block clonk of Night Nv gins t»i f:i«le, And far In the east the Morning his kitchen file hus made; And he Is hi nting rod-hut hi* ftovc of Irungruv. J.ud Kturs sre winking and blinking before the light o' day. Mind you what I was doin', Just fifty years Rgono?— Bruehln' uiv Sunday raiment, an' puttin’ my best looks on; Clotblu' myself in courage, so none my fright would see: An' my coward heart within, the while, was pounding to get free. Ten mile wood an’ bnunblo, and three mile fie Id nn' dew. In the cold smile of morning 1 walked to raairy you; No horse bad 1 but my wishes—no pilot but a star; But my lioylsh heart it fancied it heard you from afar. So through the woods I hurried, nn' through the gross an' dew, An' little 1 thought o' tiring, the whole of my Journey through; Things ne'er before nor after do so a man rejoice. As on the day be marries the woman of his ehoico. And then our country wedding—brimful o' grief an' glee. With evory one u-petllu' an' Joltin' you an' pm: The good cheer went and came, wife, as It sometimes has done When clouds have chased each other across the summer sun. There was your giwd old father, dressed up in weddin’ shape. With all the homespun finery that he could rake «n' scrape; And your d"ar-hcurtcd mother, the sunlight of whose smile Shone through the showers of tear-drops that stormed her face the while; Also your sisters an' brothers, who hardly seemed to know How they could scare up courage to let their sister go; An' oouslus an' school-house comrades, drcsstHl up ih meetln' trim. With one Id them a-sulkln' because it wasn't him; An' there was the pood old parson, his nt>ck all dressed In white, A bunch o’ texts In his li ft eyo, a hymn-book In his right; An' the parson’s virgin daughter, p’.aln an' severely pure. Who hoped we should be happy, but wasn't exactly sure; And there was the victuals, seasoned with hind regards and toi Aud holly wreaths with breastpins of rubles, up above; An' there was my heart a-wonderin' as how such things could tie. An' there was the world before us, an’ there w as you and me. Wake up, wife I that gold bird, the Sun, has oomo In sight. And on a tree-top perches to take his dally flight. He Is not old and feeble, an' he will sail sway. As he has done so often sluoe Ul’ty years to-day. Ton know there's company coming—our daughters an' our sons: There's John, and James, aud Lucy, an' nil their little ones; And Jennie, she will tie here, who In her grave doth lie (Provided company ever came from out the sky); And Sam—I am not certain as ho will come or not; They say he is a black sheep—the wildest of the lot. Before a sop's dishonor, n father's love stands dumb: But still, somehow or other, I hope that 8an> will oonie. The tree bends down its branches to its children from above— The sou is lord of the father, and rules him with his love: And ho will o'er be longed for, though fur they be apart. For the drop of blood he carries, that came from the father’s heart. Wakeyou, wife! the loud sun has roused the sweet Daylight, And she has dressed herself up In ml and icilow and white: Khe has dre s-ed herself for us, wife—for our weddin' day once more— And my soul today is younger than ever It was before. —1'Veiu Farm FVuMtvibi, f-g it \U Oarichm.

MY CONFESSION. It was doubtless a terrible calamity. I tried to reason with my husband, and persuade him that, after all, il was what mi<tht have been expected. I reminded him that ever since the insurance coin pany had failed and thrown him out of employment, he had been tramp ‘•That’s the word,” ho interrupted, fiercely. “You needn't say any more. That covers everything. Tramp! That's what I have come to at last. A tramp. Look at that hoot! Mended i Never. Look at it, 1 say—look at it!” I had been looking at it ever since he nut it on the fender. It was terribly broken, to he sure. It was like the one-horse shay, and had given out all

over at once.

So had Charley. All his patience, perseverance and persistence had oozed out at that awful hole. “ A man can stand anything hut that, Kate,” he snid, mournfully. “ His overcoat can become weather-beaten to all the colors of the rainbow; the knees of his pants may grow baggy and the seams while; his hat. so long as it’s foil, can get to any condition. But a broken hoot! O, great Heaven! I wish I was dead!” “You mean, selfish wretch!” I cried, fiinging my arms about him. “ What would become of me and the children?” “ Your people would take care of you J nnd the youngsters, Kate, 1'rn only a j clog and a curse to you, my dear. Your people would be glad to be rid of me.” "O, Charley!” 1 cried. But they were. There’s no doubt about it. On that dreadful day Charley kissed us all as usual when ho went out. He seemed to be calmer and more resigned. But I remembered the ghastliness of his smile when he drew a rubber over his broken boot. The day was certainly unsuited to rubbers, and Charley hated them iu any weather. Ho was calm, hut it was the calmness of despair. Days and weeks, u whole month, went by, and Charley did not come back to us. My family decided that something must be done. They appointed a conference to meetat my house, which was already rented, and the new lessee desired immediate po-session. My family 1 were far from sympathizing in my awful I suspense about Charley. Their convioj tions were very decided. I “ He must have gone anil drowned himself that very morning,” they said, and added, with an air of commendation and relief, that perhaps it was the best thing ho could do undor the circumstances. My heart was full to bursting. 1 (lew into a passion of grief and i rage and drove them all from the house. 1 “You’ll send for us when you get I Cooled down,” they said. And doubt-

less I should, if Aunt Mafia h»d not been belated at the family conferanoe, and arrived when my passion wm at its lowest ebb. I wuo os limp us u rug and quite as helpless. “ Just like ’em,” sold Annt Marta. “ A more selfish, cold, heartless set of people the Lord never allowed to hive.” This consoled and strengthened me. We began abusing them, and I felt better and stronger. Aunt Maria’s was one of those scheming, turbulent natures that had never agreed with mine in the days of my prosperity, but it was a kind of bitter tonic to me just then. “ I'd 'a given ’em a piece of my mind if I’d ’a got here in time. But, you see, Mrs. Rogers—you know the woman that kept our boarding-house.” I shook my head. Aunt Marta’s presence was already losing Its strengthening and consoling qualities. “Well, alio died last night, and Mr. Chandler ho came to me to talk things over. I’ve boarded there off and on, before and after your uncle Job died, for nigh on to fifteen year; and Mr. Chandler’s wife she died the very next summer, and he’s kept his second story front ever sineo. You see, ho owns the house, and like enough has a mortgage on the furniture. He’s a wishy-washy sort of man that 'most anybody can get the best of—— Good gracious me!” " What is K, Aunt Maria? What’s the matter?” i “Why, souls and bodies! if there ain’t a special providence in this thing, my name ain’t Maria Beckham. It came to me then, just like a flash—the hull thing. Why oon’t you step into Min. Rogers' place, and earn a livin’ for yourself and children? Mr. Chandler wants some one right away. It'll be kind 'o comfortable for me to have some one there that 1 can depend on, and the Lord knows it'll be comfortable to yon to hov some one you can depend on; and Mr. Chandler, if you get the right side of him, is as easy ae an old shoe. The funeral’ll come off to-morrow. Her children’ll hcv to be divided round among the relatives. FM go home now and talk the hull thing over with Mr. Chandler, and you come around tonight nnd settle everything. There is nothing like striking when the iron’s hot. It don’t do to let the grass grow under your feet. That was the trouble with your Charley; he was too alow; hadn’t enough push about him—leastwise that’s what the folks say.” “ Slanderers! backbiters! falsifiers! My Charley was the best, the dearest -” “Yes, yes, no doubt; but ho ain’t here just now to earn a livin’ for you and the children, and you don’t want to sponge on vour folks.” “No, no. Aunt Maria, anything but

that.”

“ Well, the ways of Providence is inscrutable. It seems to lie app'inted that you should take that house. Mrs. Rogers dyin’ that way, just in the nick of time, and your hevin’ a row with the folks—it’s wonderful! I’ll go homo right away, and hev a talk with Mr. Chandler before he falls in with somebody else; he’ll let you hev Hie furniture on installments, I know. The kitchen oil-cloth’ll stick to the floor, anyway. But I’ll go home and see about it, and you oome around to-night, d’ye

hear, Kate?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and gulped down a sigh that was almost a groan as she disappeared. The consolation hail all gone out of her presence long ago. I suppose 1 ought to have been gratotul. My need was oesperato, but Aunt Maria made the proposal so repelling—the poor dead woman, the division of her children, the niortgago on her furniture; I couldn’t even see much comfort iu the kitchen oil-cloth sticking to the floor. L looked upon my children as they trooped in, shabby but rosy, from their winter sport, and wondered how they would fare among my hard-hearted relatives when my turn came to die, anil theirs to be disban led. Charley and I hail always said we'd rather die than board or keep boarders. Charley had died, possibly; but the children and I were loft, and something had to be done. It seemed as though Jm\ Chandler was my only hope; but I went around there with a heavy heart, and nearly tumbled off' the stoop when I saw a flutter of crape on the bell handle. I never in the world could have gained courage to pull it. Fortunately a young mm came out. I slipped in and he slammed the door after him and went whistling his way down the street I crept by the parlor floor, where some people stood in groups, talking and laughing quite unconcernedly in the awful presence of death itself. The dishes were clattering on the dumb-waiter; a woman came down tlie stairs, smiling and happy, cloaked and hooded for tho opera, she carried a huge bouquet in her hand,and I wondured how she could pass the parlor door. Tho people ih that house may say what they please about my coolness and assurance, but I should be very sorry to have as little heart as they. Aunt Maria was already haggling about tlie kitchen oil-cloth, and nothing would do but wo must all go down aud see that

it really did stick to the floor.

Mr. Chandler was a short stout man, with scarcely any hair on his head, and a short little nose that he had to keep perched in tlie air so his spectacles wouldn’t fall off. His eyes were very

ml* and Croton-bnga. Annt Maria seemed more to tho purpose. She gathered up her skirts from the first, and seemoti prepared either for battle

pi pea burst.

threw off their Icy fetters and jurst. The deluge w:is nothing to it. Before anything could he done, seven different ceilings were frescoed and tav

or flight, and was tho last one to mount | toned in a most unhappy manner, seven

the lower stair. Mr. Chandler protected

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AlllAXltll IMIS* i.irwu Iisvitt rn the twins ri^ht up to ray nice gentle little girls—ai

me all the way to Aunt Maria’s door, and bade me good-night, with tlie hope tl»at all was arranged satisfactorily. “You’ve as good ns feathered your nest already,” said Aunt Maria. “I’m glad you wore your black dress.” “I had no other fit to put on," I re-

plied.

"It’s just as well,” she continued, “for l told him you were a widow—• there’s no use outerin’ into partic’lars about Charley “It’s nobody’s business about Char-

ley.”

“That’s what I thought; so I said you were a widow, and only mentioned the twins. I didn't spe:ik of tho boys, for you don't look old enough anyway —nobody’d dream they beTongod to you, and Mr. Chandler’s naterally of a timid turn, and it might spile everything at the start. They never need come where he is. They’ll eat at tho second table and play out in the street, and in a boardin’ house thero’s lots of tilings that only growin’ boys can eat, so they won’t count. It’s all fixed. You’re to come to-morrow after the funeral and take holt at onst. Bring

room—they’re

and I’ll fix ’em

up with pink and blue ribbon. As for the boys, let them play around till night-full, aud then slip in tho base-

ment way.”

It was all Aunt Maria’s fault—every bit of it. I was too dazod and bewildered at first to offer any objections, and so many things happened hi that dreadful three months that I never had a chance to make a full confession of my domestic affairs to Mr. Chandler. Once when he said something about its being his duty as well as his pleasure to help the widow and tho fatherless, I felt as if I mud tell him nil about Charley and the boys; but tho adverse circumstances under which I labored restrained me. I had been compelled to ask him for an advance; there was a great deal expense at first, and I was filch a novice at everything. I felt compelled to avail myself of all the sympathy possible; but I w;is confident that after tho first three months were over 1 could get along withouf Mr. Chandler’s help, and then, no matter what Aunt Maria said, I determined to tell him everything. Ho was entitled to my confidence, and I only awaited a favorable opportunity to give existence to Charley and the three boys. Everything went along like clock-work for a while. If l had only put my whole mind toil, I might have mastered everything before the cold weather set in. And I wouldn’t have fallen behind so lamentably in my accounts if I had been very careful, and severely watched Hie scraps and crumbs that fell from the hoarding-house tabic. I was perhaps too good to tho tramps and beggars, nnd led too many of the wanderers that came Hi tho basement door. In vain Aunt Maria scolded and vowed she never came down to press her crimps but she stumbled over a tramp. In vain Mr. Chandler mildly remonstrated upon tho loss of two overcoats and a set of razors. They knew nothing of the way* I felt, or how my heart beat sometimes when at twilight I saw a big, broad-shouldered, sandyhaired fellow standing there with brort* >i \b ‘ . It took mi a good while to . r >w calm and collected, and in tho meanwhile ho had eaten a good many slices of bread and meat, and perhaps stolen something from the hat rack in the

lower hall.

In truth, it was impossible to persuade me that Charley was dead. I felt that some timo he would come back to me; and it was the most natural tiling in the world to look for him as a tramp. That last sad morning was photographed on my memory when ho stood before me so painfully shabby, and with such broken boots. 1 couldn’t give him up; 1 wouldn’t. I got so tired of Mr. Chandler, with his bland respectability, bis funereal broadcloth and his high hat, his ever-roady money, and his never-ending remonstrance and advice. I did so long for dear old impecunious

Charley,

What wonder,with a mind so unsettled, md a heart so open to vagabonds, that 1 was cheated and robbed and driven to the wall, and tho second month came so appallingly soon that I had to gel another advance from Mr. Chandler. It was the most astonishing thing in tho world that, although 1 never had an easy moment in that dreadful house, never did time fly so quickly. The third month was upon me before I could realize it, and it was a matter of glad surprise to me that I had not before me the awful necessity of another advance from Mr. Chandler. I was not, perhaps, my better off, so far as actual money was concerned, but I was longer established nnd able to get credit oubsidc. I always endeavored to treat the tradespeople with every possible consideration, and they were very kind to mo—

very.

Everybody knows what an awful winter it was. I had never had any experience with water-pipes. On tlie first of the month a cold wave started direct

round, and his cheeks were fat and red, from tlie north polo and came with inand a fringe of whitfi beard gave him credible velocity, as tho bird (lies, somehow a very benevolent air that! «traight tothat doomed boarding-house.

was calculated to inspire confidence. We descended into what seemed to me tlie very bowels of tho earth, and as we entered the big cavernous gloomy kitchen there was a scamper that betokened nits, and an army of Croton-bugs fled at our approach. I was weak and nervous, and uttering an exclamation of terror, clung to NIr. Chandler’s arm. “God bless my soul!” said Mr. Chan dler, starting back. “0, it's you! Don’t bti frightened, madam. Don’t be at all frightened. I’ll take care of you.” He had himself been considerably shaken by tlie size nnd quantity of this subterranean army, and it was evidently a great relief to him to find somobody even more startled than himself, lie took the hand with which 1 had grasped his arm and held it in his own, assuring nn* that he would protect mo. Nevertheless, I was glad when ho was so easily persuaded that Hie kitchen oil-cloth would really stick to the floor, for although I was very favorably impressed with Mr. Chandler as to doinostie confidence, he was not Hie champion I would ehixise in a combat with

FOR LifMOH

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GO TO

KIEFER'S!

J.

F. HILL,

MS MM3, US k (woods Warranted!

I buy of manufacturers direct, for cash only. If you give mo your patronage I (will save you money. <*reeneastlc office in Hathaway's Block. m3pd ISTOTICIE TO CON TR A CTO I IS, FA R > IE RS, And al! others interested. The nnder.-iifned are prepared to furnish at the lowest prices,

V

Hitsifirturtoii and <>r<*ciicnst1c LIDMIE, Piaster Paris. Cenii’iit, I,and Piaslcr, Plastt’ia-r’s Hair, iVc. Prompt attention siren to all orders. A cull is solicited. Northwest corner Public Siiuare.Greeneastle, Ind II. C. STEEG. tn

It froze the water-pipes all over tlie house, soddened tho bread, petrified the clothes on the line, paralyzed the potatoes, also apples, turnips, cabbages. Mid everytl ig < that 1 had putin by the quantity for economy's sake. Tlie sun went down on that day’s wrath. Three days after it rose on another, and if the end of the world had come with it I should have been onlv too glad. Gabriel’s trumpet would h ive been a welcoinor omul to mo th in the step of Mr. Chandler that 1 heard approaching my door. I knew he had been hunting all over the house for me, and I had lied from room to room, from stair to stair, till at bust I had taken refuge in the garret floor, which the children, the servants and 1 shared to-

gether.

Tho awful fart was that the man’s house was ruined. Tlie weather was dreadfully against mo. Even tho oldfst inhabitant of the boarding-house declared that he had never known such Hidden and remarkable changes. Withcut a word of warning, like a thief in kue night, the calamity came. Tlie

different carpets were drenched, and the occupants of seven different rooms were hunting me to bay. I sentf >r the calciminers, tho plumbers and the carpet men, and found out how much it would cost to put Mr. Chandler’s house in order again. Then 1 fled to

my room.

I threw myself on the bod and stared at tho ceiling like a maniac. There was nothing the matter with that ceiling, for the demouiao pipes stopped on the floor below. The stoniness of my gaze was occasioned by the climax of my difficulties. How could I see Mr. Chandler? 1 hail ruined his house, cheated him out of his money, and unless 1 could go on plundering and cheating him, I couldn’t 20 on with the boarding-hous|. If didn't go on, I couldn't pay Mr. Chandler; if I did go on I might only plunder and cheat him the more. I never had been good at problems. At school 1 had always been stupid with given quantities, yet given quantities were my only hope just then. Mr. Chandler was rapping at the door. I burst into tears as I undid tho bolt, and begged him to forgive all the trouble and expense I had caused him. llis ceilings were speckled; his carpets were drenched; tho plumber held the very foundation of his house at an emperor’s ransom; 1 was already hopelessly in his debt, and yet must have more money, or give up and die. “ How much money?’’ said Mr. Chandler, very gently. “Don’t cry, my child. How much money?” Expiring hope began to revive within my agonized breast. He took my cold hand within his own. “ How much money will it take to repair all the damages here and put tlie house in order for a new tenant?” Down sank my heart like a .plummet of lead. I looked up in his face and was startled to find a new expression there; something indefinable, 1 could almost say heroic; Aunt Maria could never call that face "wish-washy.” It was strong and noble. He was evidently not to be trifled with. When my miserable confession was made, ho would spurn me as l deserved. If I had only been brave and true from the first! it was too late now. How 1 hated Aunt Maria! I thought of the terrible winter, of the icy streets, Hie prejudice people had against tramps—particularly so many, six of us—six, the twins, the three boys, and myself. I clasped my hands iu agony. “ What will become of mo and my children?” I cried. “Come,” lie replied, with unspeaka bio tenderness—“come out of this room into the open garret. So! Now all the whole world may see and hear us. Is it not so, my child? We are not afraid of idle tongues?” “N—ii".’’ I stammered, my heart in mv throat, for fear one of the hoys should pop h's head up the garret stairs and call mamma. “ You are So innocent,” he continued. “so fiea from hypocrisy and deceit, it is hard to make you understand that I cannot any longer lend you money, or help you in the way that I have done. Tho wicked inuendoes of slandering tongues that stab in the dark have left me but the one way to protect you. I wonder if it will be as holy, as sweet to you as it is to me? I wonder if you would be glad to give up this vile nest of scandal altogether and keep boarders no longer, hut a home for a husband, who would adore you, and would love and cherish your dear little girls as his

OvVU?”

lie didn’t mention my dear little boys, who wore out risking their lives at con-ting that very moment. What a noble, 'generous, altogether perfect old gentleman ho was! If Charley had really been dead, and I had not been the miserable impostor that circumstances had made mo, my poor, desolate, widowed heart would have melted to him, I know. That heart was desolate enough, God knows, but it wasnlt widowed; I was sum of that. The timo for mv dreadful confession had come. It was so hard to lose tho one thing that seemed left me just then— his confidence, his estc3m. 1 felt cold and faint and sick. “ Dear Mr. Chandleir," I began, “ a homo and a husband would be very sweet to me.” And Heaven was my witness It would, only not just the husband lie meant; and 1 was just going to tell him so, when Bridget put her frowzy he' ! above the flairs and said a man was be! >w that wanted to see me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. “ It' : the plumber,” I said, tremblingly, “ or tho calciminer, or tfio carpet man. O, Mr. Chandler, dear Mr. Chandler, I can not face these peopl#!’’ “ You forgot that you have given me the right to share your troubles," he said: “ Como, my dear, \re will face this person together." We found him in the parlor—ft big, broad-shouldered, splencjd-looking fellow, with a new Ulster on, and a very becoming hat, and a perfectly splendid pair of boots, without a brsak in them, rite twins were clinging io each of his hands, and around him wore dancing and howling like Indiaxs three dirty

little boys.

“ I’ve got a capital porition, Kate, in a now company out West. Get the young.stccs ready us quick a/t you can. I’ll .explain everything <»n tho way,”

sail! the person.

“ Who is this man?” slid Mr. Chan-1 dli r to Aunt Maria, who hot! been brought : thither by the wild veils ii the dear little boi and stood like a pillar of salt in tho loorway. “ Wln» is he—her

brother?”

“ Her hn band,” said Atnt Marlas

“ And these boys?”

'I T children. Phyiiml Incapacity, etc.—By ROBERT J. ! 1 > I blest mv soul!” s fill Mr. Charv-1 rri.Vl'.HU tfil., M. |I . author of tlie “Green

Conrad COOK,

ScleJaKant tor Pure

Eagle White Lead!!!

very Kok Warranted. West Side public square.

Evans & Washburn, Physicians and Suraeons, Office—Wept side of tho Square, over (Taylor’s .-Mi ’TP. ^

A. M. MILLIGAN,

M te

id irrs

tesi

Office in Southard block, first stair wav north •'! postnlli jy, 1 )

G-. W. BENCE,

Physician and Surgejon,

GREEN CAS1 LE, IND.

Office over “When" plotliinK Store. Residence

with W. S. Mulholn. 1 tf Aitvvsvs 5iC "’&v:yvwcw\. Real Estate, Loan & Insurance Agents. M<>noy *o lonii on long or short time. Rooms—No. 1, 2 and 3, over Landes’ Drup Sto^e, East Washington street, Greoneastle, Ind. . James,?. Smilky* WillibU. Nf.fk. SMILEY & NEFF, A-TTOT^XTIEflYS -A.T Xj^VW

Office, up Flair, in AlbinL* Black, South Side

Pablie«o4nare, OreeneapUe v Ind. Practice in all the court* of the State and solicit business.

J. A. C-OLDSBERRY,

PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.

OF KICK—Residence

Poplar Streets.

corner Indiana

titnll

and

dsRAV’ssrKcirir n v:imciivc. TRADE MARK The (i r e a tTRADS MARK

English remedy A ?i unfailing cure for Seminal Weakness, Sper matorrhon Impotency and all diseases that follow ns a sequence of Self-

Abuse; as Loss

urm TAKIII, JM. m, : ry.l m AFTIR TAKIRI. verMil Latitude. Pain in the Back, Dimness of Virion, Premature Old Ape. and many other direaree that lead to Insanity or Com amption

and a Premature Grave.

er Full particulars in our pamphlet, which wo desiro to send free by mail to everyone. *«rThe .Specific Medicine is sold by ait urnpaists nt $1 per pm-kose, or six packages for $fi; or will be sent free by mail on receipt of tho

money, by adtlres-inx

THE GRAY MEDI< INE CO..

HutTnlo, N. Y;

I Sold In Green castle by Conrad Cook, | _____ lv V>_ _ ; A Great CAUSE of HUMAN MISERY

I* the Los* of

A Lecture on

Treatment and

radical cure of Seminal Wcakno-s or Spermatorrhoen, induced by Self-Abuse, Involuntary Emissions, linpoteney, Nervous DeMlity, and Impediments to Marriage (.’cnerally; Consnmptioii. Epilepsy md and Fits: Mental and Phyrienl Incapacity, etc.—!ly Rt'MBRT J,

co i . „i. i i f a I. . o _ , ,,

•Her; ml these were tho last words I hi ir l. I fainted dead atfity In Charley's arms. C: arloy and I, the tv Ins and the ihr • boys started for our new home iu tho Wost the next day, frt m whence I write this poor, weak but contrite oonfossion to Mr. Chandl ff. —i/t/rper’s

Weekly.

— "’Tis love that mr.kvt tho world go round.” It also make j tho young • uin go round -to tho hotiio of tho girl about seven nights per week.

Book,

Tho

, Ac.

author, in thi? a<linirab1e Lecture,

cleiirly proves from hi*' own experience that the awful consequent cs of self-abuse maty be efleotaally removed without tlanireroui surgi-

i (ruiuenttf riu

cordials; pointimr out h mode of cure at once rertaifi and eflcelunl, by which every sufferer, no matter v hat his condition may be, mav cure himself cheaply, privately ana

radically •

w%-'I hi*’Lecture will prove a boon to thous-

ands and thousands.

Sent under seal, in a plain envelope, to any address, post-paid, on receipt of six cents or twopostaye tamps, Wehavoalsoa surocure TIE UT I.YKKU 1.1 I. MEWU/fn)., Ann St,, New )'nrk, N. Y-; 1‘Atolfice

i I •