Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 November 1883 — Page 3

WE DO NOT CLAIM

that Hood's Sarraparillawill cure everything, but the fact that on the purity and vitality of the blood depend the vigor and bealch of the whole system, and that disease of various kinds is often only the sign that nature is trying to remove the disturbing cause, wc are naturally led to the conclusion that a remedy that gives life and vigor to the blood, eradicates scrofula and other

purities from it, as Hood's Saksapakilla undoubtedly does, must be the means of preventing many diseases that would occur without its use hence the field of its usefulness is quite an extended one. and we are warranted it recommending it for all derangements of this system which are caused by an unnatural state of the blood.

Why Suffer with Salt-Rheum Messrs.C. I. Hood

Srevlouswas

Co., Lowell, Mass.

Gentlemen—I was a great sufferer from Salt-Rheum on my limbs, for a dozen year*

to the summer of 1876, at wnrolr

me 1 cured by Hood's Sarsaparilla. The skin would become dry, chap, crack open, Meed and itch intensely, so thatl could not help scratching, which of course made them worse 'At the time I commenced taking Hood's Sarsaparilla (in the summer of 1876) they were so "bad that they ,6) discharged, and I was obliged to keep them bandaged with linen cloths. The skin waff drawn so tight by the heat of the disease that if 1 stooped over they would crack oj ly ring tears into my eyes. In* first hot lie benefited me so much that I con-

and act nail tinuedtaking it till I was curcd I used one box of Hood's Olive Ointment, to relieve the Itching. Hoping many others may learn the value o? Hood's Sarsaparilla and receive aa much benefit as I have, I am,

Very truly yours, Ms.

8. S. MOODY, No. 75 Broadway.

Lowell, Mass., Jan. 15,1878.

Hood's Sarsaparilla

Is sold by druggists. Price $1, or six for $5. Prepared by C. HOOD & Co., Lowell, Mass.

KIDNEY-WORT

MAS BEEN PftOVED The SUREST CURI for D6f£Y DISEASES. Dc a a l&mo back or adlaorderedprine ir.di. Jto ttaat you area victim? THEN CO XOTII ESI TATE use KIDNEY-WORT at onci 'druggists recommcnd It) srd it will spee lly ovoroomo the discare tad restore heal' tiy action to all the orgn -.s.

I TtriifSiC For complaints peculiar Er-SlUH/Oa to your sex, euchte pain and realm eases, KXDNBY-WOBT is unsurtj )pao3 1, aa it will act promptly and eafely.

Ei- :or Box. Inoontlnence, retention of nrin •, brick uat or ropy deposits, and dull dras ^ing pains, all speedily yield to its cur attvo power. CS) 80 ,'J) BY AXiIj DBTJGGI8T8. Price $1.

KIDNEY-WORT

frieqd E. C. Bogard of this city

used to be drawn double from painful kldDoy iiisease. KidDey-Wort cured him, James M. Kinney. Druggist, Alleghany Ciiy.I'a.

KIDNEY-WORT

1 3 A S E E for ail diseases of the Kidneys and •LIVER

Ithiifr specific action on this most important organ, enabling it to throw off torpidity and inaction, stimulating the healthy secretion of the sUe, and by keeping the bowels in free oondiuon, affecting its regular discharge.

HllovSa If you are suSfering from ividldl Ida mnlarliv,ft^fii«t arebi oua, dyspeptio, or constipated, Kid-ncy-T. ort will surely rollevc & quickly cure.

Is tli is season to cleanse the System, every one should tako a thorough course of it. (tl SOLD BY DRUGGISTS. Price $1.

-T-

"I've giin?d 20 pounds in two months", writes Mr. J. U. Powers, ot Trenton Ills.. Dec. 2,1882, ''and am a well man." I'd suffered with liver disorders since 1862. Kidney-Wort cured me."

Strong words from aNew York clergywan: "I unhesitatingly recommebc Kid-ney-Wort. Ii greatly benefited me." *»yt Rev. C. E. Kemble, of Mohawk, N.

"For twelve years" writes Lyman T. Aboil, of Georgia, Vt., I found no relief from pilei until I tried Kidney-Wort. Ii has cured me.'"''%y

ID N E W O HE GREAT CURE ica

R-H-Etfl-AT-IS-M As it is for aU tbopsinftil disease* ofth» KIDNEYS, LlVtllAWP •OWKLS.

It cleanses the system of the acrid poison tw oausea the dnsdflil nAria( whioh only the victims «f rheumatism can reallie

THOUSANDS OF CASES. of fh* wont forms of this terrible dlseaae have boon ^ukOtly relieved, and in short

nuca

ID W E W 7

"I had habitual costivenees pain in the back aod rheumatism," writes S. J. Ssod Burlinzton, Vt. Kidney-Wort has CAiret them all."

Dr. BATE

85 S. Clark St., Opp. Coirt House, CHICAGO.

A regular graduate. The Oldest Nptclitllit West of New York, whose ufx loso kxpebiknci, perfect method and pure medicines insures bpkedt and PKRMA^tNT CUBES of all Private. Chronic and Nervons Dineases. Affections of the Blood, Skin. Kidney*. Bladder, Eruptions, Ulcere, Old Sorca, Swelling «f the Gland., Sore Month. Throat, Bone Patina, permanently cured and predicated from the system foe life. •iCDIinilC Debility, Itnpotency, 8em(HCIIVllUv not Xokri, Sexmal Decay, Mental and Physical Weakness, Failing Memory. Weak Byes, Stunted Development, impediments to Marriage, from excesses or any cause, speedily, safely and privately Ctnrd. BSfYoung, Mid-die-Aged and Old Men, and all who need BZnilical Skill and Experience, consult Dr. Bate at once. His opinion costs nothing, and may save future misery and shame. When inconvenient to Weit the city for treatment, medicines can be sent everywhere by mail or express IVee tfrom onset*, ittoa. M~It is self-evidei

oian who

SE9*It is self-evident that a physio

rive* his whole attention to a class of diseases attain* mat aklll, add physicians throughout the eountry, Knoirin* this, frequenttyrecommead difflcutt saees to the Oldest Specialist, by whom every known good roaiedy is used. f^Dr. Bate's Age and Experience make his opinion of supreme Importance. S3-Those who call see po ne bnttho Dootor. Consultations free and sacredty eonQdentlal. Cases which have failed in obtaining relief elsewhere, especiklly solicited. Female D» sases treated. Call or write. Hours, from to "oil Sundays, 1# to 18. Address asabovo.

AND all Urinary trouble iickly and safely cured with DOCUTA SANDALWOOD. Cures in seven days. Avoid injuriousiml-

tainK none but the Doonta gennin. Fu directions. Price fl.S0 half boxe«,-75oen A1 druggLsta.

PARTING.

[Burlington Hawkey®.]

Come out in the garden and walk with me, While the dancers whirl to that dreamy tune. See! the moonlight silvers the sleeping aea,

And the world is fair as a night in June, Let me hold your hand as I used to do. This is the last, last time, you knew For to-morrow a wooer comes to woo

And to win you, thongh I love you so.

You are pale—or is it the moonlight's gleam That gives to your face that sorrowful look? We must wake at last from our summer's dream,

We must ccn» to the end of our tender book^ v. Lo'.-p, the poet,lias written well

He has vVon our heajts by bis poem sweet And now, at the end, we must say farewell— Ah! but the suminer was fair and fleet.

Do you remember the night we met? Yon wore arose in-your yellow hair,, Closing my eyes I caft see you yet,

Just asyoustood on theupmo6t stair. 'A flutter of white from head to feet, A cluster of buds on your breast. Ah met But the vision was never half so sweet

As it is to-night in my memory.

Hear the viols cry, and the deep bassoon Seems sebbing oHt in its undertone

The ways of life area mystery.

I love you, Love, with a love so true That in coming years I shall not forget The beautiful face and the dreams I knew,

And memory always will hold regret I shall stand by the seas as we stand M-night, And think.of the summer whQSp blossoms died, When the frost of fate fell chill and white

On the fairest flower of the suinmer*tide. Tbey are calling you. Must I let you go? Must 1 say goOd-by,' and go my way? If we must part, it is better so—

Good-by's such a sorrowful word to say? Give me, my darling, one last sweet kiss— So we kiss our dear ones, and see them die, But death holds no parting so sad as this

God bless you, and keep you—and so— Good-by!

An Ideal.

[Harriet Pi*escott Spofford in The Continents] Age comes to some people only like the wider opening of the rose, the gentle drooping of the creamy outer petal, and one must needs think of this in looking at Mrs. Fernalde. "I have had my threescore and ten," she used to say. "I have had all that nature has to give, and now I am living on grace." It was a sunny spirit that informed her, a lightsomeness that never let the substance of a tear penetrate beneath the surface that could endure nothing but happiness. Her unfailing good nature was like a fairy wind thftt smoothed -every trouble out of ller way and out of the way of every one about her. If her hair was white, no great sorrow had nade it so and its contrast with the soft brilliancy of the black eye nnd the velvet flush of a cheek unwritten by many linos, made her perhaps as lovely as one standing in all the full radiance of youth. As for Mr. Fernalde—tall, dark, spare—he was by no* means unattractive, and his courtly manners had a unique elegance. He loved his ease and annoyances, when they chanced to break through the magic circle his wife drew about him, vexed him, as they usually do a nervous person. For the rest, he was one of those

But Mr. Fernalde was in

r,.,,

Sorfrfe sorrowful memofy,- The tune Is thesaddest one I have ever knowh Or is it because we must part to-night

That the mu»ic teems so .'adi Ah me! You are weeping, Love, and your lips are white—

men who, having led a singularly fortunate fortune in my own right, and had been life, maintain to themselves a fancy that Tjuniy Of tb?r"follies'of most of the jeunesse dfroa of Jhat period, which, if comparatively innocent, were troublesome enough to the authorities of my college to need discipline, and I was passing a year of most unhappy rustication in the place adjoining Alicia's home. Never shall I forget the first moment in which 'I saw Alicia running down oue of the orchard aisles with her white garments fluttering about her, and her fair head bent over the branch of apple blossoms in her hand. If lightning had fallen, the revolution that seized me could not have come more quickly.- I seemed to be changed in a twinkling, to have been borne into another planet. I felt as if sunshine had pierced and penetrated once impenetrable gloom. When I fell asleep in the grass of that orchard, and woke with that heavenly creature bending over me, I rose

they have just missed the last stroke to make the crystal complete, wlio have a vanishiri^ ideal always just beyond the sight and reach.

The Fernaldes were neighbors of ours.. Wealth required no exertion of them, and advancing age secluded them in some measure from general society their home was always cheerful they were always in it and if there had been no such person as crabbed old Mrs. Talliafero, who had spent the last six month with them, it would have been hard to see how heaven itself could be much improvement on it. However, she was going at once, and then where would be.the crumple in the rose-leaf?

They loved young people. "The new generation lends us a part of its freshness," they used to say. They always welcomed any of us, and indeed made me so particularly conscious of their flattering favor that I spent £f good portion of. my time with them, threaded the sweet little lady's needles, read and wrote more or less for Mr. Fernalde, and was gradually taken into their confidence in away I did not desire, since I am about to violate it. "Could I imagine a happier old age than this, my child, with my wife, my health, my flowers, our birds and pets and friends?" he said once, repeating my question. "Why, .yes, my dear, it was much happier before my wife brought Mrs. Talliafero to stay with us. Some old schoolmate or girl Mend of hers, I don't quite know whom, for the fact is she nettled me so the first day she came that I wouldn't ask Boaalie a word about her, for fear I should shew my displeasure at her having brought her home when she turned up. It is astounding how an invisibly small thorn will destroy your equanimity. And then this woman has a quality that would turn honey into vinegar, I do believe. She has changed our quiet, peaceful, sunshiny life, that seemed like one long day in Juue, into a sharp, raw day in November.

There is something very rasping about her. 1 don't see why my wife invited her to spend such a season with us for. 1 wonder if she thought that at the end ot the time I should press for a continuance? My dear, I have counted the days—it sounds sadly against all hospitable rites—I have counted the days till I should see her consult a railway time-table, as she did yesterday, about going home to-day. I believe she is not in affluent circumstances now. I would be glad to meet the expense of boarding her away! I am speaking strongly.* Yes, Rosalie," looking at his laughing wife, "I know you say too strongly. But it is argument, assertion, contradiction, differing, bickering, finding fault with the servants who have suited us half a lifetime, questioning the expenditure, disordering the arrangements from one day to the next Think of it, when she comea into my study and declares that my wife has the patience of the play to endure snch a den of disorder in her house. She wonders that I do not wear a scratch. She warns me of indigestions, she threatens me with nightmares, she reminds me of my age, she interferes with my pipe! And then she wants so much fresh air! Thank heaven! her time is up to-day, and my wife will not invite another guest for a half year without giving me time to arrange a residence elsewhere! And such a voioe, tool When one hears it, one longs for the proper infirmities of age that dull the hearing—sharp as a file, piercing as a locust's whirr! What are you laughing at, Rosalie?" "Ah, you are not quite just, my love," said the sweet little lady. "Mrs. Talliafero has a

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TUS TEftRE flAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTS.

nne mind, fciiie is reany waning us up. one prevents our sinking down into a jeliy-like existence, as so many at our age do. She keeeps us bubbling." ''There(altoere, there, my dear! Don't say another ward about your Mrs. Talliafero! Go and spend a season with.her at Saratoga, if you ever want to see her any more. I'll go to Richfield. Bubble! She'd make sulphuric acid bubble out of the sands of the desert! I've no doubt she worried Talliafero, poor man, into the grave! But there, I've said too much," he added directly. "I beg your pardon, ray sweet, if I hurt your feelings about an old friend, but really— Now, Rosalie, my love, if you don't care to go over these accounts, our young friend will.' And then Mrs. Fernalde tripped off with as light a foot as a girl of 17, and I drew up the great folding-screen around our- chairs, stirred the fire a' little, and took pencil and paper to add up the figures Mr. Fernalde was to read out to me.

brown study for

a little, and I let him stay. "It was strange you should have asked me that question, child," he said at length.

used, at your time of life, to imagine a very different old age from this, if I may so call that imagination, for, in fact, old age never entered into my calculations. I imagined nothing about the passage of time, only of the continuance of a condition. And that condition was the perpetual paradise of Alicia's smiles." „... "Rosalie, you mean," said L4?* "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Fernalde shortly. "I mean Alicia." ""-J "Alicia?" "Alicia, who, when I was twonty, was the light of my eyes and the loadstar of my life." "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Of course you don't, of course you don't. I've half the mind to tell you, though. It's a long time ago—a long time—and no harm done. One is perhaps a fool at TO," said Mr. Fernalde presently again. "I'm not quite 80. One is certainly a fool at 20.' I was, at any rate, but didn't know it, and I walked in a jfool's pai-adise. And to be a fool and not know it! Is there, on the whole, any farther paradise? Protty, pretty as a peach!" he began again, after another pause. "Ah! that sounds to us like profanity. That heavenly fair face, those eyes like the stars in a blue midnight! that smile of exquisite innocence and purity! I used to tremble before her sometimes as before some young saint stepped from shrine —one that I dared to desecrate by loving. Ah, how I loved her! The sight of certain flowers brings her back to me now! When the apple trees are in blossom, that pink and white snow, that ineffable delicacy of perfume, calls her before me like a revelation! There are times when this eternal smoothness of things in my life palls me—times when I cannot bear the sound of evening bells coming across the water. It so renews for me that evening—that evening when I lost her—when I lost her if I found Rosalie!" "You lost her then?" I said, to break. the silence that followed. "I will tell you. The two were inseparable. If I walked or rode or sailed with one, the other was not far away. Rosalie was a little gay, tormenting sprite. Alicia was a pensive saint. It was Alicia's home her father was a man of wealth, and Rosalie was visiting her. Rosalie had no home, no fortune she had just finished school and was to be governess, dreading it as a butterfly might dread being broken to harness, dreading it all the more for this glimpse of 'luxurious life in her friend's home since school. I myself had a

Only to walk on air. The little brown face of Rosalie, with its carnations, with the glint and glance of its great brown eyes, with its flood of brown curls that had a touch of gold on them, with the glittering teeth of its beautiful laugh, was just over her shoulder, but I merely know I saw it by remembering it afterward. She was only a 3hadow to me in those days and as for me, I was only Alicia's shadow myself. She lived and moved in some exalted atmosphere, to my perception. She does now. Her father wore the front of Jove I could not say that he did not carry the thunders. I felt myself a mote in the broad beam of their sunshine, as though I were something hardly visible in their large range of vision, as if it required an effort to make myself perceived by them. -1 hesitated to make the effort—I worshiped from afar. When she spoke to me my heart beat so I had hardly voioe to answer when she touched my hand it thrilled me through and through. And I asked no mora I thought of no more for awhile than just to

Continue so forever to see her from my window walking under the long aisles of the low-branched orchard, like some mediaeval picture to walk besides her sometimes now and then to venture reading from the same page with her now and then to be her partner in the dance. That Rosalie should be about with me, riding here, strolling there, walking to church, reading with the old pastor, in whose •charge there was a fiction that I was, aud so, in a way, jjudying with me—that was all a matter of commonplace she was sweet, she was fresh, she was charming. But what was all thft when an angel \^as in the room! ""One night I was on the gallery just out side their "Mrawing-room, looking in at the long windSow, and Alicia was singing. Ah, how delicious was that voice! Tire cherubim aud seraphim who continually do Sing, il I ever hear them, will not sing so sweetly. I wonder to whom that voice is singing now! Besides her, that night, was this scamp who had come to the place more -than once, a proud, commanding fellow in his undress uniform, a man whom her father plainly intended die should marry. I can see the scene now—the rich and dimly-lighted room full of purple shadows, the air laden with the scent of flowers Alicia in her white drapery, more mystical, more beautiful, more holy, as she sang, than if revealed in the glow of her beauty outside the violet depth: of the sky, and the moon just falling, like some great golden flower, low in the west and as Alicia's voice became silent a choir of bell tones coming far and fine and free across the water, like echoes of her song in heaven. My heart swelled with a fullness of rapture life seemed too rich, too sweet, too sacred and then I saw that man stooo and kiss her

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orow. oe action turned me to stone tor a moment till he came sauntering to the window, and I knew no more what I was doing than that bronze Perseus in the corner would if he moved. I lifted the hand that had seemed stone, and as he passed me I struck him on the mouth, the mouth that had done the profanation."

And Mr. Fernalde was quiet a little while. "And that was the end of all things," he resumed. "The fellow laughed at me for a mad boy. Her father launched one of the thunderbolts, and. forbade me the house. Wb*t strirk?n day and night of wretchedness! What a week Of hopelessness, of annihilation! &ut perhaps Alicia felt otherwise. Why should I not discover? Why should. I suppose she had any other sympathy with that creature than the sympathy of the star and the worm? And if my glad hope perad venture were true, why then we could fly from these places that should know us no more the world was before us, heaven's gates were open to us.. And I wrote, my hand trembling at its sacrilegious daring, just a dozen lines, without address, without signature. She would know what it meant, And I sent it by the parson's boy. And I waited for her, lying on the gra^ beneath the orchard trees, in the deep gloom just gilded by the influence of the unseen moon. There came the rustling of garments, the tripping of a foot my heart beat, my eyes grew dim. Was it she coming up behind me, as I lay lifted on my elbow, kneeling and putting her arms about me, raining swift kisses on my face?—wild, sweet kisses in that shadow wild, passionate whispers in that silence! And then a great pang smote me, and I rose and weiiit out with her into the less dim darkness—and it was Rosalie. "She never knew," said Mr. Fernalde, "she does not know to-day that I died that night. I can't say how I lived through those moments even. They were but moments she had stolen away. She had to return at once. We parted at the foot of the mock-orange walk, and I went to my bed and lay there in a trance of despair. Perhaps sunlight brought some relief. The parson told at the breakfast-table the news that Alicia was betrothed to the army officer I had seen over the hedge. I wrote a 'word, saying Iwas called away, and I was gone* a week or more. But in that blank 1 must have something to love me—to have an interest in. Better Rosalia than the absolute negation of those days. She thought nothing of my absence after my return. She was as full of romance as a flower of nectar. And, to sum it up, if she was not the rose, she had lived with the rose. One day we married, and here we are. Along lite, a happy life, and I have never regretted the day in it that I made her my wife. After all, one cannot marry among the angels-i-clay must mate with clay. What do you say? Not love her, my child? You never irate more mistaken. I love Iter tenderly, absorbingly. She is a perfect woman—she has been a perfect wife. She has made me calmly and completely happy. If once in a while the old hope, the old dream of a passion arises and sweeps before me in its bloom and light, it is because it means youth to me—that youth which we do not know till we are old—is itself the ideal that it holds up for worship. Yet perfect as my wife is, fifty years of this smooth life with her wear something of the commonplace, and if across their dead level of same content sometimes gleams the shining of Alicia's face, it is not in any disloyalty to her. I often wonder what became of the lovely creature. Once I could not have spoken of her. At seldom times, when I sit alone by the fire, she comes and sits beside me, and gleams of light aud shadow make free with her sweetness, her beauty, her pensive and etherial grace. Dear girlt I suppose she sleeps in her grave by this, but she is a shaft of the light of heaven in my memory."

And Mr. Fernalde rose, walking to the window, just as the screen began to tremble, and a smothered cough and then an undisguised one, betrayed to me, if not to him, that Mrs. Fernalde had heard the chief part of the monologue. "And I had heard it in fragments and aections more than once before," she afterward told me, with her pleasant smile. "I know it means nothing—that he is just as wholly mine as I am his—that our love is the imperishable sort—that we are welded into one by fifty years together. And perhaps it was ignoble of me to break the pretty bubble, to take away his little ideal, with which he has found comfort whenever I would have my own way too much. Yet I thought it was about time."

But she said nothing of this at all as she came bustling round the corner of the screen that morning. "There is such a gale blowing outside," she said, "that the dust really rises in the house lit to choke one." "You haven't caught cold, Rosalie?" her husband, turning in concern. "Not the least, but I shall if the hall-door is open another moment. There she comee now. Make haste, and bid Alicia good-by^ my love. She is just going." "Who?" he cried, suddenly opening hif eyes like lamps in their deep settings. "Alicia—Mr^. Talliafero—dear. She married again, you know. Oh, it has been a fine jest," she cried with her low laugh, "to think that you should not have recognized Alicia in all these weeks and months!"

Mr. Fernalde was quiet for a few moments, looking at .the sweet little lady before him, with her color like the half-tarnished rose, with the soft brilliancy of her placid smile. Then he crossed over the hearth before me, and he took her liaud and bent down and kissed her mouth. "My Rosalie," said he, "will you not make my adieux to Mrs. Talliafero youselfJ Tell her—tell her I have gone to, the funeral of an old friend I" ,T« $ g# t- THc IVisiloni «»f Policy.1 (Arkansaw Traveler.]

De 'pcissom was neber thought ter hab much sense, but he's might}" smart. He has fooled many a man in pretendin' like he was dead, while de coon, what all ob de animalf call jedge, r'ars aroun' an' neber fails ter sit hurt.

ANOTHER HERO.

[Arkansaw Traveler.] Old Jim .v" That's him

Standin* down yonder along side the "coon." Can't see, Not he, For h|s eyes wus burnt out the fust o' last "»June. *1

Didn't go in .si**, v.} 'Mong smoke an' din

Ter save a child whar the flames growed thicker. Lost his sight,

In another light—

Frying ter down some five-cent belwr.

jf *•. ,4^ [Bxchange.} There are souls in my church so small," •aid Mr. Talmage to a reporter, "ao infinite^ mal, so mean, that fifty of then could dance a schottische on the point of aoambric needl* without touching each other."

*4* jt'-i I A-.y P' J. J-

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NEWS OF THE WEEK.

Gleaned From the Gazette's Local Columns.

Mrs. Linton has returned to New York. Fred Greusing has returned from Kansa&jtiity.

Miss Sadie Gilbert is visiting in Crawfordsville. Prince LyUe is in a barber shop at Peoria, 111.

Mr. and Mrs. Con. Cronin left on the 20th#for Texas. Mr. Henry Rutledge spent the week at Newman, Ills.

Joseph Wildy is confined to the house with rheumatism. Eugene Hess is clerking in a music store at Kansas City.

Mrs. Mary O. Albertson died on the 23?T aftfer along illness. M.r$« 'Murphy and Mrs. Brovin are visiting at Greeucastle.

A littte son of Mrs. Hallet died of typhoid fever on the 22nd. JfrS. Graham, of Indianapolis, is visiting Miss Anna Douglass.

Louise E. Smith is sneing for a divorce from Abraham M. Smith, Wm. Hartman.of McKeen's mill, has been visiting in St. Louis.

Hattie Leverentz is sueing for a divorce from John Leverentz. Mr». Julia Byers, died on the 23d of consumption, aged (36 years.

Condy Haffey died at his residence on north Fifth street on the 24th. Joseph Brennan. the young druggist, will soon go to St. Paul to live.

Mrs. M. J. Walter, of east Chestnut street, has moved to Indianapolis. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Thompson, of Kan-, kakee, Ills., are visiting in the city.

Mr. and Mrs. Ben Hudnut had a little son added to their family this week. Mrs. J. W. Cruft and Miss Jennie Steele, have been in Chicago this week.

James Van Eaton sr., has moved into Dr. Treat's house on south Fourth str66t«

Mrs. Harriet Lee died at her home near Lockport on the 20th, aged 79 years.

Mrs. James Eagle, who has been visiting Mrs. Sam Royse, has returned to KftokftkcGi

Capt. M. N.Smith and wife have gone to Thomasville, Ga., for the benefit of Mrs. Smith's health.

Mrs. J. G. Sleight, of Chicago, andMiss Anna Wells, ot New York, are visiting H. G. Sleight's family.

Mrs. Henry Anderson and wife, who have been visiting in Kansas for two months, have returned.

Willie^ the four year old son of Mr. and Mrs. John Watson, died on the 25th, after a ten days' illness.

A. T. Koopman has returned to Chioago where he has opened a millers' supply house on jlace street.

Newton Rogers is out his interest in the lumber and contracting business and will move into the country.

Miss Nettie F. Haslet, daughter of the late George Haslet, died on tbe 22nd, of consumption, aged 16 years.

Eliza Cline has been granted a divorce from Allen Cline, and tne name of plaintiff changed to Eliza Mullen.

Sam Early, jr., had his band severely cut while working at the machine shop of the Polytechnic this week.

Prof.E. C. Kilborne has returned from St. Paul and Minneapolis, where he taught and rusticated all suiqmer.

R. H. Mundvello, a Spanish gentleman lately arrived from Mexico, has entered Mr. B. F, Havens' insurance office.

David Soudles wishes to sever his matrimonial bonds. He has applied for a divorce from his wife Elizabeth.

Nick Smith, who has been in California fer some time has returned and taken a position at C. C. Smith & Son's.

Mr. and Mrs. Frank Sibley's friends celebrated their wooden wedding by giving them a purprise party on the 22d.

The G. A. R. gave a social at their Half en the 25th.' A paper was read by Dr. S. J. Young on Reminiscences of the War.

James Hunter's store was entered on the 23d through the basement and robbed of nearly four hundred dollars worth of goods.

Joe Davis and his sister Miss Lizzie Davis went on tbe 26th to Kansas, 111., to take part in the musical contest and .concert there.

Mrs. Mautz, formerly a milliner in this city, who has been keeping a millinery store in New York city, has failed, having lost ^13)000:

Rev. Joseph Lesen, Provincial, has been re-elected to tbe office be is now holding, by the Franciscan Order of the United States, in the Triennial meeting at Trenton, N. J. this week.

Mr. Dan Davis has accepted a position tossing in a ohoir in St. Louis. He will leave here on Saturday night, returning Monday. The choir rehearsals will be held on Bunday morning.

The following marriage licenses have been issued this week: Frank B. Heitman and Josephine C. Derolf.

Sidney A. Kendall and Katie Brown.

James ftigney and Kate lsbell Harvey ffill Wm. Dittman and Carrie Golder. John W. Christman.

and Bertha A. Bowers. -ie Golder. Kenneke and Elizabeth

Consumption Cored.

An old physioian, retired from praoticej having bad placed in his hands by an feast India missionary the formula of a simple vegetable remedy for the speedy and permanent cure of Consumption, Bronchitis, datarrb, Asthma and all throat and Lung Affections, also a positive and radioal cure for Nervous Complaints, after having tested its wonderful curative powers in thousands of cases, has felt it his duty to make it known to his suffering fellows. Actuated by this motive and a desire to relieve human suffering. I will send free of charge, to all who desire it, this recipe, in German, French or English, with full direction for preparing and using. Sent by mail by addressing with stamp, naming this paper, W. A. Noyes, 149 Power's Block, Rochester, N.

The Chinese women wear loose trousers and wax their hair, but they have one virtue—they don't wear bangs. Just give the China weman credit for that.

Why They Call Him 'Old Man." "Yes, that's sadly so," said Jenkins, "my hair is turning gray and falling out before its time. Use something? I would, but most hair restorers are dangerous." "True," answered his friend, "but Parker's Hair Balsam is as barmless as it is effective., I've tried it, aud know. Give the Balsam a show and the boys will soon stop calling you 'Old Man Jenkins."' It never tails to restore the original color to gray or faded hair Richly perfumed, an elegant dressing.

The New York newspapers are quarreling over the question which has sold and given awav the most newspapers

(since the trouble began.

*•''•.*»

IflfS

attasas

Spring Without Blossoms,

Late in Life to Look for Joj—Yet Never Too Late to Mend.

Readers »f Hawthorne's "House Seven Gables" will recall- the pathos with which poor Clifford Pyncheon, wbo had been unjustly imprisoned since his early manhood,said, after his release: "My life is gone, and where is my happinlss." But that could be done only in part, as gleams Of warm sunshine occasionally fall across the gloom of a New England autumn day..

In a letter to Messrs^ Hiscox & Co. Mr. L. H. Titus, of Pennington, N". J. sas: "I have suffered untdld misery iron, childhood from chronic disease of the bowels and diarrhoea, accompanied by great pain. I sought relief at the hand of physicians of every school and used every patent and domeotic remedy under ihft-siiB. I have at last found in Parker's Tonic a ?mplete specific, preventive and cure. As jour invaluable medicine, which did for me what nothing else could do, is entitled to the credit of my getting back my happy days, I cheerfully and gratefully acknowledge the t'aet."

Mr. E. S. Wells, who needs no introduction to the people ot Jersey City, adds.- "The testimonial of Mr. Titos is genuine and voluntary only he does not adequately portray the suffering he has endured for manv years. He is my brother-in-law, ana I know the case wall. He is now perfectly free from his old troupes, and enjoys health and life, ascribiL it all tv Packer's Tonic.

Unequalled as an invigorant stimulates all the organs cures ailments of the liver, kidneys, and all diseases of the blood. -k

Miss Nellie MoGuir*, 27 South New Jersey street, Indianapolis, saya "Brown's Iron Bitters entirely cured am of Nervousness."

'"Twas the last rose of some her." said the youth as he picked up a faded fiower.

The weak, worn and dyspeptio should take Colden's Lie big's Liquid Beef and Tonic Invigorator. Ask for Colden's, druggists.

Ben. Butterworth will not let out

new patents on oleomargarine.

any

It's bard to beliete Miss Whittier

was

oured of such terrible sores by flood's Sarsaparilla, but reliable people prove it.

Cedar Rapids is trying to get the Iowa State Fair away from Des Moines.

Enterprising local agents wanted is this town for ah article that is sura t» sell live druggists and grocers preferred. Address Humiston Food Preservative Co., 72 Kilby street, Boston.

Coiii-cobs are worth 50 cents a load In Iowa for fuel.

"Boughlon Rats."

Clears oYit rats, mice, roaches, tiles/ ants, bed bugs, skunks, chipmunks, gor.hers, 15 cents. Druggists.

Mr. Irving's face Is completely desti tute of color. He smokes cigarettes in* cessantly.

Epilepsy Sntirely Cored* Prof. Irving B. Smith, of Pike, N. T. makes the following statement. "Sam aritan Nervine has entirely cured me

epileptic fits."

Over $100^000 has so far ben paid out

Yankton, D. T., for the flax crop of 1883. Tbe Safest Way.

The safest and surest way to restore the youthful color of the hair is furnished by Parker's Hair Balsam, which is deservedly popular from its superior cleanliness.

None of the scientists whose especial study'is biology seems to bave noted the fact that tbe dude is without a tail.

Colden's Liebig's Liquid Beef 'fcfcd touic invigorator promotes digestion admirably adapted for females in delicate health. Of Druggists.

No. 415! OHIO SmEl

TERRE HAUTE, INDIJ^

(Established 187S*)

ror all Diseasecf the Bye, Ear, Beat. Hg* Throat, Lungsand all Chronic Diseases «MC^EspMUUf CHBOKIC DISSA8E8 of Women «X

Children Fistula, Pilea, lgwi,Cmw,OftaaIi Habit. Rheumatism, IfeuxalgU. Mia PiaiMU. W EASES St the STOMACH, LFVBft, BPLSKS, EXAB'. diseases of the Kidneys uid Blsdd'.'*. and all the G»nito-Urinary System. ALL BKBVOOB fiS EASES: Paralysis, C?-erea or 8t. Vlt«a Canes, B| lepsy, Cat&tepay, SCROFULA In all Mi foruM, and thoae diseases not saeeessfolly treated by tae "t Physician" and Deformities of all .Vinds, ani furnished.

ELXCTUICITTand MIECTR1C JBAtSl 1

All eases of Ague. Domb Ague or Chilk and Firef, Fistula, Piles, Cktri and Qsff tbe Bectoaa, Lopns, most Cancers, most Skin

Feaaala Dkeaaes generally, Oranulaied meats of the Osinea, Weak and Sore lyes, Ct tt the Sye. Bar, Vase, Throat or Skin IHc*ezp%\,C. SpermatorrhM or diseases peculiar to Ken sod YoatW ^OjMnMom fs» MPrgluV, Strabiamas or Crsss BfW Yarieeeele)1* Sore Up, natiam, icnte ••nrruMi

Briftt'a M-mm aal Idteis C«l*. McT