Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 September 1877 — Page 3

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PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PUCE.

A Novel of Thrilling Interest About the Great Strikes in England.

BY CHARLES RKADE.

Continnod from L»aat Issue,

He courted her openly, not indelicately, but with a happy air of respect and •elf-assurance.

Henry »at, sick with jealousy, and tried to work and watch but he could only watch: his hand trembled too much to work. & What may be called oblique flattery is very pleasing to those quick-witted girls, who have had a surfeit of direct cornplimsnts: and it is oblique flattery, when a man is supercilious and distant to others, as well -as tender and a liltle obsequious to her he would please.

Grace Carden enjoyed this oblique flattery of Mr. Coventry's all the more that

it

came to her just at a moment when her companions seemed disposed to ignore her. She rewarded Mr. Coventry accordingly, and made Henry Lit­

tle's"heart

die within him. His agony

became intolerable. What a position was his! Set there, with a chisel in his hand, to copy the woman he loved, while another man wooed her before his face, and she smiled at his wooing.

At last his chisel fell out of his hand, and startled *very body: and then he rose up with pale cheek, and glittering eyes, .uul Heaven only knows what he was gefing to do or say. But at that moment another visitor was anounced, to whom indeed the door was never closed. He entered the next moment, and Grace ran to meet him, crying, "Oh, Mr. Raby! this is a surprise."

Mr. Raby kissed her, and shook hands with Mr. Coventry. He then said a kind wordtojael Dence, who got up and couiteuied to him. He catt a careless glance on Henry and the bust, but said nothing. He was in a hurry, and soon came to the object of his visit. "My dear," said he, "the last time I saw yoil, you said you were sorry that Christmas tvas no longer kept in Hillsborough as it used to be." "And so I am." "Well, it is kept in Cairnhope, thank Heaven, pretty much as it was three centuries ago. Your father will be in London, I hear will you honor my place and me with a visit during the Christmas holidays?"

Grace opened her eves with astonishment. "Oh, lhat I will," said she, warmly. "You will take your chance of being snowed up?" "1 am afraid I shall not be so fortunate," was the charming reply.

The Squire turned to Coventry, and said slyly, "I would ask you to join us, 6ir but it is rather a dull place for a gentleman who keeps such good company." "I never heard it spoken of as a dull place before," said the young man "and, if it was, you have taken a sure means to make it attractive." "That is true. Well, then, I have no scruple in asking you to join us and he gave Grace a look, as much as to say, "Am I

nol.

a considerate person?"

"lam infinitely obliged to you, Mr, Raby," said Coventry, seriously "I will come." "You will stay to luncheon, godpapa?" "Never touch it. Good-bye. Well, then, Christmas-eve I shall expect you both. Dinner at six. 3ut come an hour or two before, if you can: and Jael, my girl, you know you must dine at the hall on Christman-eve, and old Christmaseve as usual, you and your sister and the old man."

Jael courtesied, and said with homely Cordiality, "We.shall be there, sir, please ,God we are alive." 'ij* "Bring your gun, Coventry. There's a good sprinkling ot pheasants left. By-the-by, what about that pedigree of yours does it prove the point?" "Completely. Dorothy Raby, Sir

Richard's youngest sister, married Thomas Coventry, who was out in the forty-five. I'm having the pedigree copied for you, at a stationer's near." "I should like to see it."

1

I'll go with you, and show it to you, if you like." Mr.

Raby

was evidently pleased at this

attention, and they went off together. Grace accompanied them to the door. On her return she was startled by the condition of young Little.

This sudden appearance of hi9 uncle, whom he hated, had agitated him not a little, and that uncle's interference tyid blasted his last hope. He recognized this lover, and had sided with him: was going to shut the pair up, in a countryhouse, together.

It

44Wine

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was too much. He

groaned, and sank back in his chair, almost fainting, and his hands began to shake in the air, as if he was in an Ague.''

Both ti« women darted simultaneously towards Sim. Oh, he's fainting!" cried Grace. ''Wine! wine! fly!" Jael ran out to fetch some, in spite of a despairing gesture by which the young man tried to convey to her it was no use.

can do me no good, nor death

no harm. Why did I ever enter this house "Oh, Mr. Little, don't look so don't talk so," said Grace, turning pale in her turn. "Are you ill .. What is the matter •'Oh, nothing. Wnai snould au me? I'm onlv a workman. What business have I with a heart? I loved you dearly. 1 was working for you, thinking for you, fighting for you, living for you. And you love that Coventry,, and, never showed it

Jael came in with a glass of wine for him, but he waved her off with all Uie grandeur ot despair. "You tell me this to my face! said Grace, haughtily but her bosom panted. "Yea I tell you so to your faee. I love you with all my soul. "How dare you?" What have I ever done, to justify—Oh, if you weren't so pale, I'd give you a lesson. What could posess you? It's not my fault, thank heaven. You have insulted me, sir. No why should I You must be unhappy enough. There, I'll say but one word,t»nd •that, of course, is 'good morning.'"

And she marched out ot the ipotn, trembling secretly in eVery limb. Henry sat down, and hid his Mice, and all his frame shook.

Then Jael was all pity. She threw herself on her knees, and kissed his trembling hand with canine fidelity, and wept on his shoulder.

He took her hand, and tried hard to thank her, but the words were choked.' Grace Carden opened the door, and put her head cautiously in, for she wanted to say a wordtojael without attracting -Henry's attention. But, when she

saw Jael and Henry in ro loving an attitude, she started, and then turned as red as fire and presently she burst out laughing. I

Jael and Henry separated directly. Grace laughed again, an unpleasant laugh. "I beg pardon, good people. I only wanted Mr. Little's address. I thought you could get it for me, Jael and now I am sure you can. Ha! ha! haP

And she was heard laughing after the door closed. Now there was a world of contempt and insolence in this laugh. It conveyed, as plainly as words, 'I was going to be so absurd as to believe in your love, and pity it, at all events, though I can't approve it: but

now

you have just set my

mind at ease. Ha! ha! ha!" 'Let me go,' cried Heniy, wildlj 'Nay, tell me your address.' 'What for? To tell that cruel—laughing—' •Nay then, for my self.' 'That's a different thing. I respect you. But her, I mean to hate, as much as I loved her.'

He gave Jael his address, and tnen got out of the house as fast as he could. That evening Grace Carden surprised her father, by coming into his study. 'Papa,' said she, 'I am come to ask a favor. You must not refuse me. But I don't know that you ever did. Dearest, I want£50.' 'Well, my child just tell mp.wh^t i* i3 for ," "It is for Mr. Little for his lessons." "Well, buf £50!" "He has given me a good many. And to tell you the truth, papa, I dismissed him rather unceremoniously and now I should be glad to soften the blow a little, if I can. Do be very good and obedient, dear papa, and write what I should dictate. Please!" "Well, spoiled child who can resist you

Then Grace dictated, and Mr. Carden wrote: "Dear Sir,—My daughter informs me that, as yet, you have received no remuneration for the lessons you have given her. I beg you to accept the enclosed check and, at the same time, should be glad if you would put a price upon the admirable bust you have executed of her. 1 "Yours obediently, ', WALTER CARDEN.

The reply to this letter surprised Mr. Carden, so that he brought it t6 Grace, and showed it to her. "Dear Sir,—The lessons are not worth speaking of, I have learnt more in your house than I taught. I beg to return the check with thanks. Price of the bust, five hun dred guineas.

fr

Yours obediently, HENRY LITTLE.

Grace colored up, and her eyes sparkled. "That young man wants humbling,"

I don't see that, really. He is very civil, and I presume this five hundred guineas is just a polite way of saying that tie means to keep it. Wants it for an an advertisement, eh

Grace smiled and bit her lip. "Oh,what a man ot business you are!" And a little while after the tears came into her eyes. "Madman!"' said she to herself. "He won't let me be his friend. Well, I can't he it."

After the brief excitement of this correspondence, Little soon reped into dull misery. His mother was alarmed, and could restrain herself no longer. She implored his confidence: "Make me the partner of your grief, dear," she said "not that you can tell me any thing I have not guessed already but, dearest, it will do you good to open your heart and, whe kno -vs, I m&y assist you- I know my sex much better than you do."

Henry kissed her sadly, and said it was too late now. "It is all over. She is going to marry another man." "Has she told you so?" "Not in words but I have seen it. She has burnt it into my heart." "I wish I knew her, said Mrs. Liitle, very earnestly, and almost in a whisper. "Some day, mother, some day but not now. Oh, the tortures one heart can suffer, and yet not break."

Mis. Little sighed. "What, not even tell me her name "I can't, I can't. Oh, mother, you mean well, but you will drive me mad."

Mrs. Little forbore to press him further just then. She sat silent at her work* and he at his, till they were aroused by a fly drawing up at the door.

A fine young woman got out, with something heavy, and holding it like a child on one arm, rapped at the door with the hand that was disengaged.

Mrs. Little opened the door to her, and she and Jael Dence surveyed each other with calm but searching eyes* "If you please, ma'am, does Mr. Little bide here?"

Mrs. Little said yes, vith a smile: for Jael's face and modesty pleased her at first sight. "I have something for him." "I'll give it to him." "If you please, ma'am, I was to give it to him myself."

Henry recognised the voice, opened the door, and invited her in. Mrs. Little followed her, full of suppressed curiosity.

This put Jaefout, but she ,was too patient to show it. "It is the bust." said she "and put it softly down on the table with her strong arms.

Henrv groaned. "She despises even that she flings it at my head without a word "Nay: I have got a note for you." "Then why didn't you give it me once?-' cried Henry impatiently.

at

She handed him the note without a word. It ran thus •'Miss Carden presents her compliments to Mr. Little, and sends him his beautiful bust. She is grieved that he will accept no remuneration for his lesssons and begs permission to offer her best wishes for his happiness and prosperity."

The gentleness of this disarmed Henry, and at the same time the firmness crushed him. "It is all over!" he crigd despairingly: and yet I can't hate her.

He ran from the room, unable, to restrain his tears, and too proud and fiery to endure two spectators of his grief. rs. Little felt as mothers tell toward those who wound their young. "Is it the woman's likeness?" said she bitterly, ahd then trembled with emotion.

"May I s& it?"

1

^Surely, ma'am." And Jael began to undo the paper. But Mrs. Little stopped her. "No, not yet. couldn't bear the sight of a

THE TFiRRE HAUTE WEEKLY QACTflTK.

face that has brought misery upon him. I would rather look at yours. It is very honest one. May I Inquire /our name?" "Jael Dence—at you sen-ice." "Dence! ah, then no wonder you have a {rood face: a Cairnhope face. My child, you remind me of days gone by. Come and see me again, will you? Then I shall be more able to talk to you quietly." "Ay, that I will, ma'am." And Jael colored ail over with surprise, and such undisguised pleasure that Mrs. Little kissed her at parting.

She had been gone a considerable time, when Henry came back he found his mother seated at the table, eyeing his masterpiece with stern and bitter scrutiny. it was a picture, those two rare faces in such close opposition. The carved face seemed alive but the living face seemed inspired, and to explore the other to the bottom with merciless severity. At such work* the great female eye is almost terrible in its power. "It i9 lovely," said she. "It seems noble, I cannot find what I know must be there. Oh, why, does God give such a face as this to a fool?" "Not a word against her," said Henry. "She is as wise, and as noble, and as good, a« she is beautiful. She has but one fault she loves another man. Put her sweet face away hide it from me till I am an old mar, and can bring it out to show young folks why I lived and die a bachelor. Good-by, dear mother, I must saddle Black Harry, and away to my night's work.

The days were very short now, and Henry spent two-thirds of his time in Cairnhope Church. The joyous stimulus of his labor was gone, but the habit remained, and carried him on in a sort of leaden way. Sometimes he wondered at himself for ths hardships he underwent merely to make money, since money had no longer the same charm for him but a good workman is a patient, enduring creature, and self-indulgence, our habit, is after all, his exception. Henry worked heavily on, with his sore, sad heart, as many a workman had done before him. Unfortunately his sleep began to «be broKen a good deal. 1 am not quite clear whether it was the after-clap ot' the explosion, or the prolonged agitation of his young heart, but at this time, instead of the profound sleep that generally rewards the sons of toil, he had fitful slumbers, and used to dream strange dreams, in that old church, so full of gaunt sights and strange sounds. And, generally speaking, however these dreams began, the figure of Grace Carden would steal in ere he woke. His senses, being only half asleep, colored his dreams he heard her light footstep in the pattering rain, and her sweet voice in the musical moan of the desolate building desolate as his heart when he awoke, and behold it was, a dream.

The day after Christmas-day began brightly, but was dark and lowering towards afternoon. Mrs. Little advised henry to stay at home. But he shook his head. "How could I get through the night? Work is my salvation. But for my forge, I should perhaps end like—*' he. was going to say "my poor father." But he had the sense to stop.

Unable to keep him at home, the tender mother got to his saddle-bags, and filled his flask with brandy, and packed up a huge piece of Yorkshire pie, and even stuffed in a plaid shawl. And she strained her anxious eyes after him as he rode off.

When he got among the hills, he found it was snowing there very hard and then, somehow, notwithstanding all the speed he made, it was nearly dark when he got on the moor, and the tracks he used to go by, over the dangerous ground, were effaced.

He went a snail's pace, and at last dismounted, and groped his way. He got more than one fall in the snow, and thought himself very fortunate, when, at last, something black towered before him, and it was the old church.

The scene was truly dismal, the chruch was already overburdened with snow, and still the huge flakes fell fast and silently, and the little mountain stream, now swollen to abroad and foaming torrent, went roaring by, behind the churchyard wall.

Henry shivered, and made for the shelter. The horse, to whom this church was merely a well-ventilated stable, went in and clattered up the aisie, saddle bags and all.

Henry locked the door inside, and toon blew the coals to a white heat The bellows seemed to pant unnaturally loud, all was so deadly still.

The windows were curtained with snow, that inoreased the general gloom, though some of the layers shown ghostlv white and crystalline, in the light of the forge, and of two little grates he had set in a monument.

Two heaps of snow lay in the centre aisle- just under two open places in the roof, and, on these, flakes as big as pennypiece kept falling through the air, and glittered like diamonds as they passed through the weird light of the white coals.

Oh! it was an appalling place, thit night youth and life seemed intruders. Henry found it more than he could bear. He took a couple ofcandles, pieced them in bottles, and earned them to the west ern window, and there lighted them. This one window was protected by the remains of iron-work outside, and the whole figure of one female saint in colored glass survived.

This expedient broke the' devilish blackness, and the saint shone out glorious.

The horrid spell thus broken in Some degree, Henry plied his hammer, and made the church ing, and the flaming metal fly.

But by-and-by^s often happened to him now, a drowsiness overcame him at the wrong time. In vain he battled against it. It conquered him even as he worked and, and last, he leaned with his arms against the handle of the bellows, and dozed as he stood.

He had a dream of that kind which we will call a vision, because the dream seems to come to the dreamer where he

He dreamed he was there at his forge, and a soft voice called to him. He turned, and lo! between him and the western window stood six female figures? all dressin beautiful dresses, but of another age, and of many colors, yet transparent and their faces fair, but white as snow and tht ladies courtesied to him, with a certain respectful majesty beyond description and, somehow, by their feces, and their wajr of courtesyingto him, he knew they were women of his own race, and themselves aware of the relationship.

Then seyeral more such figures came

rustling softly through the .wall from Jhe churchyard, and others rose flout the vaults and took their places quietly, till there was an avenue of dead beaties: and they stood in an ascending line up to the west window. Some stood on the ground, some on the air that made no difference to them.

Another moment, and then a figure more lovely than them all shone in at the window, at the end of that vista of fair white faces.

It was Grace Carden. She smiled on him and said, "I am going .vhere I can love you. There the world can not divide us. Follow me follow follow!"

Then she melted away then all melted: and he awoke with a loud cry that echoed through the edifice, now dark and cold as the grave and a great white owl went whirling, and. with his wings made the only air that stirred.

The fire out, and the place a grave. Yet cold as it v/as, the dreamer was bathed in perspiration, so clear had been that unearthly vision, so ghostly was now that flitting owl.

Shuddering all over, he lighted his fire again, and plied his bellows with fury, till the fire glowed brighter than ever and then he prayed even aloud that he might never see the like again, even in a dream.

He worked like mad, and his hand trembled as he struck. Ere he had thoroughly recovered the shock, a wild cry arose outside.

He started back, awe-struck. What with the time, the place, and that strange vision, the boundaries of th^-nat-ural and the supernatural were a little confused in his mind. "Help, help cried a voice and now the familiar tone of that voice made him utter aloud cry in return.

He searched for the key, and made his way to the door but, just as he began to insert the key, the voice was at the door outside. "Oh, save me A dying girl Save me

The cry was now a moan, and the next moment an inert mass fell like lead against the door in a vain attempt to knock at it.

The voice was Grace Carden's, and it was Grace Carden's body that tell so inert and powerless against the churchdoor, within a yard of Henry Liitle's hand. 'V CHAPTER XI.

On the twenty-fourth of December Miss Carden and Jael Dence drove to Cairnhope village* and stopped at the farm: but Nathan and his eldest daugh ter had already gone up to the Hall so they waited there but a minute or two to light the carriage lamps, and then went on up the hill. It was pitch dark when they reached the house. Inside, one of Mr. Raby's servants was on the lookout for the sound of wheels, anJ the visitors had no need to knock or ring this was a point of honor with the master of the mansion when he did invite people, :he house opened its arms even as they drove up' open flew the great hall-door, and an enormous fire inside blazed in their faces, and shot its flame beyond them out into the night.

Grace alighted, and was about to enter the house, when Jael stopped her, and said, ''Oh, Miss, you will be going in left foot foremost. Pray don't do that: it is so unlucky.

Grace laughed, but changed her1 foot, and entered a lofty hall, hung with helmets, pikes, breast-plates, bows, crossbows, antlers, etc, etc. Opposite her was the ancient chimney-piece and inglenook, with no grat£,-but two huge iron dogs, set five feet apart and on ihem lay a birch log and root, the size of a man, With a dozen beech billets burning briskly and crackling underneath and aside it. ThU genial furnace warmed the staircase and passages, and cast a fiery glow out on the cari iage, and glorified the steel helmets and breast-plates of the dead Rabies on the walls, and the sparkling eyes of the two beautiful women who now stood opposite it in the oride of their youth, and were warmed to the heart by its crackle and glow. "Oh! what a glorious fire, this bitter night. Why, 1 never saw 6uch a—" "It is the yule log, Miss. Ay, and you might go all round England and not find its fellow, I

trow.

But our Squire he don't

go to the chandler's shop for his yule log, but to his own woods, and fells a great 'fit tree. 4

A housemaid now came forward with bed-candles, to show Miss Carden to her room. Grace was going up, as a matter of course, when Jaei, busy helping the footman with her boxes, called after her: "The stocking, Mies! the stocking!"

Grace looked down at her in surprise. "There it is, hung up by the door. We must put our presents in it before we go stairs. .M-'1 "Must we? what on earth aln I to give:"

Oh, anything will do. See, I shall put in this crooked sixpence." Grace examined her purse, and complained that alt her stupid sixpences were straight.. "Never mind, Mitt put in a hair-pin, sooner than pass the stocking o' Christmas Eve."

Grace had come prepared to endouhtdr old Customs. She offered her shawl-pin and Jael, who had modestly inserted her own rift, pinned Grace's offering on the outside of the stocking with a flush of pride. Then they went up stairs with the servant, and Grace was ushered into a bedroom of vast size, with two fires burning at each end each fireplace was flanked with a coal-scuttle foil of kennel coal in large lumps, and also, with an enotmous basket of beech biilets. She admired the old-fashioned furniture, and said, *'Oh, What a palace of a bedroom This will spoil me for my little poky room. Here one can roam about and. have great thoughts.' Hillsborough, good-bye I end my days hi the cou:}' try." 'Presently her quick ear caught the rattle of swift wheel* upon the hard road: she ran to the window, and peeped behind the (hirtain. Two brilliant lamps were in sight, and drew nearer and nearer, like great goggling eyes, and soon

"4

neat dogcart eame up to the door. Before* it had welfe oped, the hospitable door flew open, and the yule fire shone on Mr. Coventry and his natty groom, and his dof^cvt with.plated axles it dlutainat^d the silver harness, and the roan horse himself^ and the breath that poured into the keth air from his nostrils,red inside.^

Mr. Coventry dropped from his shoulders, with easy grace, somethitag between coal and a cloak, lined throughout with foxes' skins: and, alightidgr left his groom to do the rfst. The fur was a reddish, *4 re lieved with occasional while: and Grace gloated over it, as it lay glowiaff

I

in the fire-light. "Ah!" said she, "I should never do for a poor man's wife: I'm sefend of soft fiiia and thiags»and I don't like poky rooros.*r With that she fell into a reverie, which was only inter rupted by the arnval jjf Jael and her boxes.

Jael helped her unpack, and dress. There was no lack of conversation between these two, but most of it turned upon nothings. One topic, that might have been interesting to the readers of this tale, was avoided by them both. They had now come to have a high opinion of each other's penetration, and it made them rather timid and reserved on that subject.

Grace was dressed, and ju«t going down, when she found she wanted a pin. She asked Jael for one.

Jael looked aghast, "Oh, Miss I'd rather you would take one, in soite of me." "Well, so I wiU.* There!" and she whipped one away from the bosom of Jael's dress. "Mind, I never gave it you

v/

"No. I took it by brute force." "I like you too well to give you a pin." "May I venture to inquire what would be the consequences "Ill luck, you may be sure Heprttrouble, they do say."" "Well, I'm glad to escape that so easily. Why, this is the temple of superstition, and you are the High Priestess. How shall I ever get on at dinner without you. I know I shall do something to shock Mr. Raby. Perhaps spill the very salt. I generally do." "Av, Miss, at home. But, dear heart, you won't see any of them nasty little salt-cellars here, that some crazy creature have invented to bring down bad luck. You won't spill the salt here, no fear but don't ye let any body help ye to it neither. If he helps you to salt, he helps you to sorrow." "Oh, does he Then it is fortunate nobody ever does help anybody to salt. Well, yours is a nice creed. Why, we are all at the mercy of other peeople, according to you. Say I have a rival: she 9miles in my face, and says, 'My sweet friend, accept this tribute of my es eem and gives me a pinch of salt, before I know where I am. I wither on the spot and she sails off with the prize. Or, it there is no salt about, she comes behind me with a pin, and pins it to my skirt, and that pierces my heart. Don't you s«e what abominable nonsense it all is

The argument was cut short by the ringing of a tremendous bell. Grace gave the last, swift, searching, all-comprehensive look ot her sex, into the glass, and went down to the drawing-room. There she tound Mr. Raby and Mr. Coventry, who both greeted her cordially, and the next moment dinner was announced.

Raby Hall was a square house, with ttyo large low wings. The left wing contained the kitchen, pantry, scullery, bakehouse, brewhouse, etc., and servants' bedrooms above. The right wing the stables, coachhouses, cattle-sheds and several bedrooms. The main, building the hall, the best bedrooms, and the double staircase leading up to them in horse-shoe form fron' the hall: and, behind the hall, on the ground floor, there was a morning room, in which several ot the Squire's small tenants were even now preparing for supper by drinking tea and eating cakes made in rude imitation dt the infant Saviour. On the right of the hall were the two drawing-rooms en suite, and on the left was the remarkable room- into which ths host now handed Miss Carden, and Mr. Coventry followed. The room had been* originally, the banquetinz-hal}. It was about twenty feet high, twentyeight teet wide, and fifteen feet long, and ended in an enormous bay window, that opened upon the lawn. It wa* entirely panelled with oak, carved by old Flemish workmen, and adorned here and there with bold devtcet. The oak, having grown old in a pure atmosphere, and in a district where wood and roots were generally burned in dining-rooms, had acquired a vtry rich and beautiful color, a pure and healthy reddish brown, with no tinge whatever of black a mighty different hue from any you can find in Wardour Street. Plaster ceiling there was none, and never had been. The original joists, and beams, and boards, wete still there, only not quite so rudely tashioned as of old for Mr. Raby's grandfather had caused them to be planed and varnished, and gilded a little in serpentine lines. This wood-work, above gave nobility to the room, and its gilding, though worn, relieved the eye agreeably.

The latter end was used as a study^md one side of it graced With books, all handsomely bound the ottier side, with a very beautiful organ that had an oval mirror in the midst of its gilt dummy-pipes. All this made,ra.cos^ nook in the grand room.

Wliat might be dilled the dining-room part, though rich, was rather spmbre, otl ordinary occasions but this night it was decorated gloHously. The materials were simple—Wax-canules and holly the effect was produced by a magnificent use of these materials. There Were eighty candles of the largest size sold in shops, and twelve wax pillars, five feet high, and the size of a man's can of these, four only were lighted at present The holly was not in sprigs, but in/ enormons branches, that filled the eye with glistening green and red and, in the embhfcure of the front window stood a young holly tree, entire, eighteen ftet high, and gorgeous with five hundred bBenches o? red berries. The tree had been dug up, and planted here in an enormous bucket, used for that purpose, and filled with mould.

-v

Close behind this tree were placed two of the wax pillars, lighted, ami their flames shone through the leaves and berries magically.

As Miss Carden entered, on Mr. Raby's arm, her eye swept the room with complacency, and settled on the hollytree. At sight of that, she pinched Raby's arm,and cried*'Oh!" three times. Then, ignoring the dinner-table altogether, she pulled her host away to the tree, and stood before it, with clasped hands. "Oh, how beautifully I"

Mr. Raby was gratified. "So then our" forefathers wera not quire such, fools as some people say." "They were, angels, they were dheks. It j* beautiful, it is.devine.

Mr R^bf looked at the glowing cfefrl^ and deep, sparkling, sapphire eyes, "Come said he "after all, there's hQUiiOg here so beautiful as the young lidy who now honors the place with her presence,"

With this lie handed her ceremoniously to a place at his right hand said" a short grace, and sat down between his two gueste.

TO BE CCWfTISUJ^g* ,..

1

I"

VEGETINE.

IS%Mil ttsiMl»iiiHasi by raflMu the Mood, restoring the liver and kidneys to healthy actios, iaviforatiaf the nervosa *1

VEGETINE

is not a vile, naaseoos compound whleh simply purges the bowels, but a safe, pleasant remedy, whleh Is sore to purify the blood, and thereby restore the health.

VEGETINE

is now prescribed in oases of scrofula md other diseases of the blood, by many of the best physicians, owing to Its great success in curiag all diseases of this nature.

VEGETINE

does not deceive invalids into false hopes by purging and creating a fiotitious appeUte, out a-slsts nature in elearing and purifying the whole system leading the patient gradually to perfect health.

7 VE6ETIME

was looked upon as sn experiment for some time by some of our bast ph/'ioians. but those most incivdulous In regard to its merits are now its most aident meads and sapporters.

VEGETINE

nstesd of being a puffed up worked its way up to the on ing success, by actual merit in

mediolnc, hal resent astonishin euring all

diseases of the blood, of whatever nature.

VEGETINE,

says a Boston physician, "has no equal as a blood purifier. Hearing of its many wonderful cures, Mter all otner remedies had failed, I visttsd the ltboratory and convinced myself of its grnnlne merit. It Is prepared from barks, roots, snd herbs, each of which was highly effective, and they are compounded Tn such a manner as to produdt astonishing results."

4 VEGETINE

acknowledged and recommended by physicians and apothecaries, to be the best purifier snd cleanser of blood ret discovered! and thousands so oak is its praise who have been restored to health.

PROOF. 1

WHAT 18 NEEDED.

BOSTON, Feb. 18,1871.

Ma. H. R. STXVBMS: DIABSIS—About one year since I found myself in a feeble condition from general debility. Vegetine was btrongly recommended to me uv a friend who had been much benefitted by its use. I procured the article, and after using several bottles waa restored to health and disoontinned its use. feel quite confident thst there is no medicine suDerlor to it for thoso complaints for which it is especially prepared, snd would cheerfully leeomtaend itto those who feel thstthey need something to restore them to perfect health. Bespeotfcl ly yours,

U. L.FETTtNGILl*.

firm ofS. M. Pettingiil A Oe. 10 State Street, Boston. ...V, HAVE rovro

THE RIGHT MEDICINE.

BOSTON, Mass.

MN. H. R. STBVEKS: Dkab »i*—My only ottfect in giving yon this testimonial is to spresd valuauleinformstlon. Having keen badly afflicted with salt Rheum, and the whole surface of my skin being covered with pimples and eruptions, many ot whleh caused me great pain and annoyance, and knowLig It to be a bleed disease, I took msny of the advertised Mood preparations, among which was any- quanWy_ 01 Barsagarilla, without^ obtaining any

I taking the vege­

tine. and before I had completed .the first bottle I saw that 1 ha 1 got the right medicine. Consequently I followed on with It until I hsd taken seven bottles and 1 was prononnoed awell man, and my skin la smooth and entirely free from pimples and eruptlens. I have never enjoyed so good health before, and I attribute lit all to the use of Vegetijae, To benefit those aflleted with Rheumatism, I Will make mention also, of the Yegetine's wonderful power of curing me of this acute complaint, of whleh I have suffered so Intensely,. 0. H. TUCKKK,

Pass. Agt Mich. C-HTft.

No. 08 Washington street, Boston.

VEGETINE.

PRKPARKD BY

H, R. Steven*, Boston, Mats.

Veftferfo—ttby all Dragjlttt.

From State Register, Springfieldf IU. Monday, Aug. 6,1877. THE WABASH RA1I.WA1.

With the internal operation of railroad companies the State Register has no concern, but the external operations of railroads are matters which sffect every citizen, and which are, therefore, proper subjects of discussion.. There is no doubt that the producing interests ot the state are obliged to pay. tribute to the transportation companies and now that transportation is as legitimate business as production, both production and transportation ought to, jhe free from governmental interference, and each being free, will find its greatest profit and will reach its highest development

It is in feonsflmanee wtth these ideaa that we can attention to the Wabash Railway, a* offering advantages to the producers ofCentral Illinois, which no Other tnuisportation company is able to offer. The branches of this line tap the grain and meat producing section of the Mississipi VaHey at Burlington, Peoria, Keokuk, Warsaw, Quincy, Hannibal arid St. Louis.' All these are itffportan potets of concentration, and thee# branch lines strike the main line at Decahir, and finally at Laftyette, in the grahd plan 01 moving western products to eastern markets.

It is, however, at an Illinois railway, that the Wabash ft of special interest to our readers, lis math line runs through the great farming counties of the state, and with Its brandies, gives the produce of Central Illinois a direct eastehi outlet, witfcout obfiging itto pay tribute to CHicago stock yards, elfevators, Commission deafen, or the celebrated corner operators there. Hie advantages of this line are very great, and its increasing business shows they" are fait appreciated During the late strike fts business was less interrupted than that of any of the great through linl^, for the reason that its employes are ttMrally treated, and because, also, the management did not attempt to punish employes or patrons by needlessly stopping transit