Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 15 November 1883 — Page 7

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BONNIE 000N.

A "'V

LOVE STORY.

"CHAPTER XV. vV-\

How could she help getting well then? "Here she had the beautiful golden locket with his face inside it, that dark, handsome face which she loved so entirely. She could look at it all day long now thepyes smiled at.her, and to her fancy the lips wefe always saying, "My beautiful love/' Then she had the lettor, the letter which said he was coming back it was not true what that grand lady had said. An idea came to Bon--nieDoon so startling that it almosttopk

^^WhaUf iiffy^Gtertdn ''had Sfei& *how much he loved her, and had told her this on purpose to part them! It was possible liijd jiadies, she hadheafd.were not always very particular, not always scrupulous in their wishes. She remembered many things which almost convinced her that this suspicion of hers iraq a correct one. Oh, the relief, the happiness that this idea brought her —and she had nearltf died believing it to be true, sUe had almost, died over it. She remembered now how anxious L$dy Geiton had Sheen to tell her the news, how she had purposely taken her from the others and had brought the conversation round so that she could say this naturally.

The worst was that Eric had gone without seeing her again, without saying good-bye, but then ne had simply atoned for it by sending this beautiful locket, arid the loving letter.

She could not help getting well. He was coming back that made all the difference between death and life, between hope and despair. ITow she longed to write to him to toll him how very ill and near to death she had been, to ask him to come back soon, as her heart ached for him, but she was unable to write because she had no address.

She tried her best to get well she did exactly what the doctor told her she i*y very still she took what was given to her she tried to think only of bright and happy things. She longed to get better that she might be strong and well when he came. She grew thiia and pale the hands that had been reddened by toil grew white and thin. Bonnie Boon was even more beautiful in her pallor and her illness than she had been in the daintiest bloom of health.

She did not care to be always in her room she liked the cheerful noise of the house, and she longed to see the blue pigeons and the tame fluttering binds. Ifhfer mother would but let her have a couch in what they called the sittingroom where she could see and hear Jul that was going on. •'I should soon get well, then," she sajdl "Let it be so, mother?" and Mrs. Van ghan agreed.

It was from this sitting-room window that she could see the high road, and she could lie there all day watching and waiting for him. He would come—she believed it as implicitly as she believed in the goodness of Heaven—the day would aawn when, lying watching, with anxious loving eyes, the white high road, she' would see him—hear iiim. Heaven only grant that she might sot die of joy. L-vf

So, for a few days, Bonnie Doon lay there, her eyes growing brighter ana larger, fixed ever on the white nigh road. By degrees some faint tinge of color came to her face. During those days I/aurence Rainton came and went as of old. He would have done anything on earth for her. He came every morning With fruit and flowers, only too happy if he were allowed to sit by her for half-an-hour—only too happy if but once during that time she turned ber blue eyes on him with a smile—if she spofte few kindly words,to him, quite content to lavish the greatness of a great love upon her, asking nothing in return.

They never spoke of the lodger. Laucence could not trust himself, and Bonnie Doon could not forgive the terms in •which he had spoken of her lover. They were the best or friends, but while she lay there so pale and languid, hejjould not make love to her. lie never mentioned Eric, but he thought of him. He would have given all he had to havejknown the truth. He could not understand tMs sudden illness of Bonnie Doon's, happening too just when "the lodger" left. Haahe trifled with the girl's affections? If so, and iLaurence ever found it out, let him beware! "I will keep my word," he said to liimself. "If any man hurts but one liair of her head, I will slay him for it."

Quite suddenly one day, Laurence -caught sight of the -magnificent golden tucket. Bonnie Doon wore an invalid's aliawl of white fleecy wool, and the locket was hidden beneath it. She held it alwayf in her hand, and if for a few .minutes the loosened her clasp of it, the white trembling hand went back to it with fresh eagerness. Holding that, «he felt safe, and suddenly Laurence

Kainton caught sight of it. He had been reading to her while Mrs. Vaugh.an sat knitting.

What a magnificent locket!" oried iLaurence. "I have never seen it before."

She smiled, and made no answer, allrs. Vaughan looked up. "l"es," she said "I call that a hand•aome present,. Laurenee!" "Who gave it to you, Miss. Vaughan?"

Ah! then he read her secret,—then he Itnew that all his love, and hopes, and wishes were so nianv dead afhes, for «ven as he looked at Bonnie Doon, and «he answered him, her face underwent •a complete change. "She loves him," Laurence cried to liimself in the despair of his heart—"she 3oves him!"

Bending over her he whispered in a low voice,— "You love him Bonnie Doon?" *'Yes," she answered. "With all your heart?" he whispered again. "Do you love him with all your heart?" "Yes," she replied,andspoke no other word.

He sat for a few minutes in silenceu ithen rose up and went away. The one hope of his life lay dead. He set himself a task, and it was to watch whether the tender, innocent love, so freely

£'ven,

was as freely returned. If not, Eric St. John beware. But would be come back? That seemed very doubtful to Laurence. Three -weeks had passed since Mr. St. John &&d ouitted the farm,.and there was no

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nine or nis coming oaca agoui. He nad made ner an oirer 01 marriage would wait and see. Little by little they had been the best of friends ever since, and there the matter emled. She would nofe-mind it with her fortune and connections she could certainly do much better than marry hjm. Of course, if she declined to free him, he must submit to her wishes, but that was not likely to happen. He had always found

health came back to Bonnie Doon. Every morning when the son rose she said to herselr,— "He may come to-day every night when the sun set, she said to nerself, "he will come to-morrow."

One fatal day Bonnie Doon wanted something to, read, and Laurence was there. "We have so few books," she said, "and I have read them all." "I will get you some," said Laurence, to magry t&e^girl he loved, she would why did you not tell me before? I understand ana~be willing all women will go to Aspendale now, and bring you understand when the- matter in hand back both boosts and papersj^vg^* was sentimettteof any-Mad• He would

She thanked that he would nave jjone to' tlje very of the oarth for her It w^s strange tiht the swOrd whieh really^wew her, should come from his hand.

Laurence went at once, and returned with a large parcel of books and several papers. '•J do not., know*" he said, '"whethei yotsfcnow am'tluag."Qf tte paper?} thej call Society, .Journals'#1 i[

They went, and the girl looked after them with a smile. She liked to see the strong young fellow's devotion to her mother. Then, she opened the paper Laurence had. spokea of, caHea the "Universe," and found it, as he had said, most amusing. There were pleas-' ant and interesting paragraphs about everyone and everything, it was quite a revelation to her many of the

So mother and lover found her when they came back, and no help, no comfort could be given to her then.

CHAPTER XVI..

It was jus„t one month since Er& St. John had left the farm. He had taken time, he had considered well he had disregarded the passiohate beating of his own heart he had not taken into account any suspense or suffering of Bonnie 'Doon's. He had simply weighed the two passions in the balance, and found that love was best thing in life. He felt more and more sure of it as the days rolled on, and he fully realised that his only real happiness had been that given to him by Bonnie Doon. He missed her more than words can tell the light of her loving eyes, the fair beauty of her face, the caress of her sweet voice above all, he missed the love, and having tasted its sweetness, he could not live without it again. It was better than pride, better than ambition, better than pleasure it Was the one great delight in life.

He saw his way clearly enough beforehim he had no illusions. He was not sanguine, he knew that he must make a great sacrifice in one way or another he must give up ambition or he must give up love. If he renounced ambition he knew all the consequences he would lose Lady May's. grand fortune, the benefit of her high connections, the favor, most probably, of his uncle he would remain, most likely, in the same position as he was now for many years, and people would say how mad and foolish he had been to blight his life, but—lie should have Bonnie Doon. her sweet face to brighten for him. trie sweet lips to caress him,—Bonnie Doon, to be his for ever and ever. Surely that would repav him for all.

He did not hurry his Qecision, because he did not know that the girl's heart was breaking for him.

He was satisfied now that he had done his best,—that he had weighed his life in his own hands,—that he had given the calm deliberation, and cool judgment of a sensible man to the matter. It was a victory of heart, versus head, and he was proud 6f it. It was not every man who would readily lay down the ambition and hope Of a lire for love. The next thing was to tell Lady May it did not occur to him that it could hurt her. There had never been any question of love between them it was what the world called a good match, ad shown that she admired him.

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see her, aM ti

"How should. I*" ahefasked with faifit taaUeu: have brought you a copy of the two most famous," he said "one is the 'Universe,' and the other 'The Temple.' I have heard that they are the two best papers of the Hatv" Take the 'iMierfce* first, or shall I read to you?" "No, thank you," she replied, "I am better to-day give it to me, Laurence." "And Laurence,J' interposed 'Mrs.. Vaughan,'''will you come with me to the granary? I never like going up there alone, I am sure there are rats will you come?"

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she did not understand at all. she only knew th'ere was some point which liaa escappd her.

Suddenly her attention was caught by the heading of sundry little paragraphs called "movements of the elite." She smiled to herself as she read how the Duke of Southsea had entertained a large party of guests at the Castle, how the Earl of Este had thrown open the doors' of Este to a ijge and brilliant circle. Then she read,— "festivities at High Mount The great legal luminary, Sir John Harcourt, has entertained a large party of guests at his fine old mansion, Known as Harcourt Lodge amongst them were Lady .Jersey, the Countess of Morton, Lady Geiton, Lady May Carleton, the Earl of Pevensey. Eric St. John, Esq., Captain Moles,. Ac." Then lower down was another paragraph—^ "Marriage in high life. The marriage which for some time has been on the tapis between Lady May Carleton, the celebrated heiress, and Eric St* John, 'the rising man of the day,' is arranged to take plac$ early next year."

Heaven only knows how the editor of the "Universe" obtained that piece of information, or who had sent it to him. It had been sent without the knowledge either Qf Lady May or Mr. St. John. Bonnie Doon read and re-read it. She tried to get the sense of it into her heart. It never "entered her mind that anything in a newspaper could be untrue.

Once more every hope died in her heart. Married early next year! Then her trembling hands sought the golden locket, and held it fast. This beautiful dream of hers was then all a lie he was never coming back. She was not his beautifuj love. He had deceived her. or if riot that, he had merely amused himself with winning her love. Oh Heaven! if she had died in that moment wher. he held her to his heart. A low cry came trom her lips, and again came the same terrible pain at her heart, as though it were pierced by a knife, and then from the pale lips the crimson lifeblood welled in a dark thin stream. The paper fell from her hand to the ground. She lay perfectly still and motionless. She knew this time what had happened. Just once her tired eyes were raised to the white high road along which he would never now come, and as they fell, the hope arid light of Bonnie Doon's life fell with them.

TERRE IIAt-TE WEEKLY

Lady May just and generous. When he told her the truth, thsfctjpirte unconsciously he had fallen in love for the first time in his life, and that he wanted

She went to lum with a smile on her face, but there was no answering smile on his. He told her all laying the whole .matter clearly before her he made no excuses for himself. He told her that all his life he had laughed at the word lpve,-toat-hehad never taken it into accpunt^tall. It had seemed to him a dead letter he had no Idea even of what the word meant until he saw Bonnie Doon. lie told her that he had been quite content in his engagement with ner, because he knew nothing better, nothing higher. He did not see the spasm of pain that came over her face. Now he knew what love was: he found it the best thing in life. He had weighed everything, and he had come to the conclusion that the world after all was well lost for love.

Lady May listened in silence then she said— "Did you care so very much for her? Do you absolutely loye her so much that life would be nothing without her?"

J'Yes,

it is so." he replied.

'Strange," said Lady May "my cousin, Lady Gerton, suspected it." "Did she?" he cried, his face flushing. "Yes, she did indeed, and that was why she urged you to go away 'she sedtaed to think nothing but mischief 'could come of it she did not give yofi credit, I think, for such deep reeling."

He raised his head- with a gesture of proud defiance. "I thank Heaven," he said, "I have never made a woman's heart ache yet."

Laay May looked at him, wondering that he should be so blind as not to see What was passing that moment in hers. "I leave it in your hands. Lady May." ne said. "I have told you the whole truth, and I have kept nothing from you. If you wish to keep to ourengageinent, I will do iny best to make you

and I wish you aH'happiuess.' "You area generous, noble woman," he cried. "I knew that I should not appeal to your heart in vain." "My head and not my heart have decided this," she said, calmly. "I am not a sentimental woman by any means, but my own sense tells me it is useless to marry a man who loves someone else." "I thought of going down to-day to the farm," he continued. "I have always felt sorry that I left it as I did— always."

There was just a touch of bitterness in the manner of Lady May as she answered— "If we had known' the true circumstances of the case, I am sure that neither Lady Gerton nor I would have urged your departure." "We shall remain fast arid true friends, I hope, Lady May," he added. "I see no reason why we should not. You have acted like an honorable man. I fean find 110 fault. Yes, we will be friends always," she replied. ."You are wealthy, and your position is a high one," he continued. "If I bring the simple beautiful girl I love to. you, when she is my wife, Will you befriend her?"

Tears shone in her eyes when she answered— "Yes. I will, to the full extent of my

E(ower."

And then he left her—to go to

arch Hill Farm.

CHAPTER XVII.

It was the bonnie month of September, and the sun seemed to repent of his misdeeds—seemed ashamed or the surly fashion in which he had behaved during the spring and the summer he was shining now with perseverance and industry, warming, gladdening, and brightening the whole world.

Eric was all impatience, he w.ondered now why he had been so negligent, how he could have waited all this time the l£gal luminaries and the "high connections" seemed to him very small now, while Bonnie Doon was anything. When he reached the station at Aspendale he could hardly control his impatience there was no cab, no carriage, .no horse, he must walk the distance 01 three miles from there to Larcl! Hill Farm.

The fair, bright morning that joined the warmth of summer with the smile of autumn the leaves were still green on the trees the hedgerows were still full of flowers the birds, deluded by the sunshine, were singing gaily.' As he passed the meadows ne saw the rabbits scudding along all nature was blytlie and gay—the very day to seek one's love.

How long the road seemed, yet he remembered every inch of it there was the great pollard oak, under which he had stood with Bonnie Doon watchiug a flock of sheep that for once would not follow their leader. How they had both laughed he could hear the sound of that sweet, silvery laughter even now.

There was the clear, deep pool, called Morley's Pool, that Bonnie Doon loved on account of the blue forget-me-nots that grew there he remembered holding a ounch of them near her eyes, and teuing her they were not half so beautiful a blue as the sweet eyes into which he gazed. He thought of it as he passed the pool, and said to himself .that there was no light on earth like tha light in those eyes. As he drew nearer to the farm his heart beat faster how he longed to hold her once more in his arms, now he longed to kiss the sweet lips. Oh. Heaven, how mad, foolish and blind be had been to have stayed so long.

There lies the white high road that leads to the farm,—there are the beautiful srreen lanes. Tears rise unbidden to

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GAZETTE.

nis eyes as ne gazes,

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Heaven, be praised! he comes once more within sight of the old farmhouse ,it is almost covered now with the purple westeria which has flowered so late,— there is the cool stone porch, and the memory of the sweet evening hours he had spent there with Bonnie Doon sweeps over him with a passionate thrill of delight.

He see the old house, but a strange silence broods over it the windows, always open to let in the sunshine and fresh air, are closed, and the white blinds drawn,—that is doubtless to shut

out the too warm rays. A strange stillneps there was none of the tfsual sounds,

heFall. were re- IdttNheerful voices^ no ring of happy

turning to,Len1ilonia£ter visits that had laujrhter. lasted rora mdjhtK Xrady iertop had lie saw the blue pigeons circling in sometJefaPWfeSs onhand that cbmpel- "t^e air, but even they didnoO seem as usual as he passed by he noticed that no corn lav on the ground, and that

led her to remain in London, and Lady May would stay with her. They urged Eric to return with them to ttueen's Gardens. It would be better for nim, and he agreed knowing,, what had tb happen.

On the day after their arrival he asked to see Lady May alone. She went to hid^witli a smile! on her face, feeling quite sure that he was going to-talk to her about the beginning of next year.

their cry was of hunger. Why, where Was Bonnie Doon? She never forcot the pigeons and birds. Where was spe? Of course, it was only fafney but hfe thought he heard the sweei voice qn thfe sunlight air singing the words,— .... 'My fa use lover stole the rose.

But, ah, he left the thorn wi' me."

Thank Heaven, he was no false lover! He had come back to win and to woo his true and beautiful love.

What a strange silence. Even old Carlo in his kennel was fast asleep. There was no sign of life except tne blue pigeons and the tame birds.

Where was Bonnie Doon? At this time of the day—an hour past noon—she was generally in the courtyard feeding the hens and chickens, ana everything else that was hungry. He longed to cry aloud, "Bonnie Doon!" His heart was on fire. He longed to kiss the, sweet face,—to hear the dear voice. He was growing impatient.

He went through the stone porch, but. the silence of the house was deeper and colder than the silence that lay outside there was no sign of human life or presence, no fire burned in the pretty sit-ting-room all was cold, blank, and desolate the farmer's kindly face was absent neither Mrs. Naugfian n.or Bonnie Doon were there. He stood waiting for some time, no one answered his call, no one came. The chill and the silence deepened until something like a sensation of despair came over him. What could it mean? He went at last into the pretty green drawing-room, and there his bewildered eyes fell on Mrs. Vaughan, who sat sleeping in the easychair.

Quite another woman from the kindly, motherly woman who had nursed and tended him. Her face was ghastly in its pallor, and even though she slept he could see that her eyes were swollen with weeping. What could be the matter? He looked with eyes of loving recognition round the pretty room, but here was the same terrible silence. What could it mean?

He spoke gently to Mrs. Vaughan she woke up suddenly, and wlv-n she saw him she sprang from her seat with a terrible cry. "Oh, Heaven! is it you, sir? Is it you?" "Yes," he said. "I hope I have not startled you. I cannot think what has come to the house, it looks so cheerless." "Do you not know?" she cried aloud, with a voice full of horror. "Do you notknow?" "No how. should I? I have come to see Bonnie Doon, Mrs. Vaughan let her come to me quickly, or I will go to her."

The woman stood looking at him with wild, despairing eyes. "You do not Ktiow?"she said. "Come with me."

He could not understand her. Mrs. Vaughan was, as a rule, one of the most patient and self-contained of women.

He followed her^lie had never been in that part of the house before. She led the way up a narrow staircase, until they reached a broad, light landing. She turned to liixii a face he never forgot. "You want to see "Bonnie Doon,'" she said, in a voice that despair- made hardly human. "Gb in—she is there."

He went in, wondering. Oh, Heaven! what was there?—what wa3 it? He stood like a man changed to stone. Great Heaven! what was it? Tall, thin, fair, and cold—straight and silent! "You want to see Bonnie Doon," said the same unearthly voice. "There she lies, fast asleep, my Bonnie Doon!"

He staggered to the bedside. Fair and silent, with the majesty of death on her face, there lay Bonnie Doon, the blue eyes hidden for ever by the white lids the sweet lips that hatd kissed him white and still. "She is fast asleep," said the poor mother "Bonnie Doon will never wake again and it is love for you that has killed her. No one knows but Laurence and me we shall never tell, for her sweet sake.". lie drew near to the beautiful silent figure he fell on his knees, with a loud, bitter cry. "I—I came lo marry her! Oh, Heaven! help me, I came to ask her to be my wife!" "You came too late," she said. "If you loved her, you should not have left her—if you knew that you had won her love, you should not have Wt her all this time."

But he was sincken dumb with grief, wonder, and despair—dumb with amaze. He called her name. "Oh, Bonnie Doon," he said "my beautiful, dear love, come to me—open your eyes and look at me, open your lips and speak to me, mv fair, innocent love, my dear and gentle love!"

But, for the first time, she was deaf to his voice. Then he looked at the living face, not much less pallid than the face of the dead. "What have I done," he said, "that I am punished in this way?" "I cannot tell," she replied. "I only know that she has died because she loved you so." "'IIow do you know that love of me has killed her?" he asked, fiercely., "Look!" said Mrs. Vaughan.

Site turned aside the white sheet that shrouded the beautiful figure, and showed him one white hand that held the golden locket so tightly clasped no force could have removed it. "Look!" she said. "In all her illness, in all her agonies of death she never loosed h^r hold of that. "Why need she die because she loved me?J1ie cried, bitterly. "Whv did she not live and wait for me? I told her I should come."

Then Mrs. Vaughan rose with dignity new to her. She took a folded paper and placed it in his hands. "My daughter read this, and it killed her," she said. "How could she think you meant to return and marry her whon aVta Vnov 9U 1 4 I

RHEUMATISM CUBED.

RQCHlsm,N. Y.,AjW. 6th, '83. Hheumatle 9gnrp Qt.: Gdits—I bet* been a great suftfer fi iinlthiTmijiim for six ytius, *nd hearing of the succea Of&hewiutic Syrup IeoBcluded to give Its trial in my own case, ana I cheerflilly say that I have been greatly benefited by its use. I can walk tfttb entire heedom from pain, and my generalhealth is very muck imprcwed. It is a splendid rei&edy for the blood and debilitated system,

E. gHlSTER PARK, If. D.

v, [To be Continued.]

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ii-

SYJiUJ*.

Extreme Tired Feeling. -*fA lqdy tells up "the first bottle has done my daughter a great deal of good, her food does not distress her now, nor does she suffer from that extreme tired, feeling waich she did before taking Hood's Sarsaparilla." A second bottle effected a cure. No other preparation contains such a concentration of vitalizing, enricliibg, purifying and invigorating properties as Hood's Sarsaj)|rilla.

OUR COLORED PEOPLE.

The A.. M. E. church has more additional musical features. Rev. J. H. Clay is convalescent from his recent attack of neuralgia.._

J. H. Walker will toon have his elegant residence on east Main str^t-t cpmpleted.

E. E. Bagby, glerk in the Pension Office at Washington, D. C., honored our city with a call during bis recreation tour.

The Rev. J. Bundy, of Vincennes, was in the city Sunday and Monday, conducting quarterly meeting and Love Fea»t,

Rev. White is making van improvements in his clerical circuit. He is an energetic worker and a great financier. We wish him a liberal response from the public.

Th$ members of the U. B. F. will give a grand banquet and festival on the *22d inst. The most important feature of the occasion will be several responses to toasts by prominent speakers. Due notice will be given.

Last Monday night the meeting of the Literary society was crowded to bear the debate on the

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Me took the paper from her hands and read it. "This, you say, killed her!" he cried, "this false wicked lie, killed her."

Yes she believed it and died,"1 was the brief reply, and she saw him in sudden fury grind the paper under his heels. She held up her hana lest the curse that came from his lips should desecrate the dead.

And then he fell on his knees by the eilent figure with all the passion of a man's grief and a man's agony. He kissed tne beautiful face, cold tor the first time beneath his caress. "Oh, my darlingf" he cried, "toy dear lost love! would that I could die with you. I can never live without you."

Hot tears fell from his eyes when he found how tightly the white hand held the golden locket. How she loved him —oh, Heaven, how she loved him!—and he had lost her through neglect. "No one knows Why she has died or what has killed her but Laurence and me," repeated Mrs. Vaughan.

He bowed his head on tne silent breast as he asked— "Will you .tell me all about it, for I cannot even yet understand?"

She told him all that had happened on the night he left the farm, but he was still puzzled, he had not the key he did not know what Lady Gerton had told her.

He wept most bitter tears when Mrs. Vaughan told him how delighted she was with the locket and the letters. "She grew better sir, from that hour she saia but little to me. 'Mother,' she whispered, 'he is coming back'—and I guessed all from those few words—he is coming back.' "From the hour that locket came until the hour she died it was never out of her hands. She asked me to place a couch for her in the sitting-room. She lay there day after day, weeK after Week, her eyes fixed on the white road, watching for you, sir, and you never came. Then she grew better, always hoping nnd waiting for you, until this paper came. She asked Laurence to get ner something to read, and he brought her this. She died a few*bours afterwards. We knew she could not live if the same thing happened over again. People laugh, sir at the notion of broken hearts, but Bonnie Doon's heart was broken for you." .»

WILLIAM STRANG.

Manafactured by RgBUMATIC SYRUP1 CO.. Plymoc Ave,, Rochester. N,f.

of 1812." C. H.

Washington and G. W. Buckner qjiowed great industry in studying the subject, and had there been judges the decision would have been very hard to guess.

Wednesday eveniftg's attraction was the reception given by Mr. Robert Johnson, of JicKeen'g bank, to his mother-ic.-law, Mrs. Jennie Smith, of Spencer, Incf. At 8:30 o'clock tne parlor of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, on south Seventh street, was beautifully decorated with flowers and other emblems, when the invited guests were all present. The ho»t favored his guests with several beautiful selections upon the zither, anew instrument. Mr. R. A. Brown favored the ladies and gents with a few well chosen quotations 'from Shakespeare's Othello, followed .by C. B. Butler, who quoted from the ghost in Hamlet. After social chats and interesting recitals the guests were invited to partake of a sumptuous supper, which had been prepared so as to meet the approval of a king. It was served in courses, in accordance with. Ft each castom, six courses constituting the bill ot fare. The following persons were present: Mr. R. A. Brown and lady, Mrs. William Howard, Mr. Henry How&rd, Mr. C. B. Butler and lady, Mr. Horace Bass, Miss Leisie Smith, Mr. Henry Smith, Miss Mattie Powers and Mr. George Smith.

HAWKKYE.

tsOlden'a Liebig's Liquid Beef and tonic invigorator promotes digestion admirably adapted for females in delicate. health. Of Druggists.

NEURALGIA UUIL^.

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ttncsialte Sfhtp Co. .* CtengLsiibe Norapiber. i' 1 liafopeen Jl oonsyuht at.. Jr^sfteuralilfeAili haw Mowh what fPffla to b.» trom pain until I comm the use of BhPUinaflfc.8yr hare reit no pain unee osi fourth bottle. I think it tl semedy Hiugjirer heard ittiffblood and 1 cum 6f rbetbhatlsm and ralgla W. B.CHA

CORSETS

Every Conet ia wamnted satisfactory to its wearer in er®iy way, or the money will be refunded by the person from •whom it was bought. Ihe only Corset pronounced by onr Iwittnijto* ».• Ml MwlHt to the wearer, endorsed tv lan» the

most comfortable »wl pemct fitting Oowk*" PUCKS, by lUO, PmUh P«M ItaKkPnetnta* IIM I AMnIImI (nlMkwTy) IM* Hmka W a I 3

Health is Wealth

Da E. C. West's Nkbtc and Bbair Tb mirr, a guaranteed specific for Hysteria, Di ness. Convulsions, Fits, Nervous Neural. Headache, Nervous Prostration caused byth» of alcohol or tobacoo. Wakefulness, Mental I preesion, Softening of the Brmin resulting insanity and leading to misery, decay and dr. Premature Old Age, Barrenness. Loss of pov in either sex. Involuntary Losses andBpern orrhoca caused by overexertion of the brain, a abuse or over-indulgence. Each box oonte 'One month's treatment. $1.00 a box, or six bo for $5.00, sent by mail prepaid on receipt of pr

WE (iiAJtASTEE SIX 9OXSS To cure aay case. With «wh order seoeived b» for six boxes, accompanied with $5UX), we seal the purchaser our written guarantee to fund the money if the treatment doee not eftw fccure. Guarantees issued only by

A dress

C. F. Zimmerman, Drngglst, Sole agent.

Corner Thirteenth and Main streets.

ABBOTT BUOOY OOUfPAR

Who! STAtfE and 20th ST., CHICAGO, HA. Retailers at low prices. Seeded largest buOcK^ of flrst-claas buRsua-in the world. The Timk Spring a specialty, the only easy ridinu aide made. We make every variety of one and t« seated open and top bugltee and carriages. thing but the finest material used: pnt together •he best possible manner finishedandtrimniev* prices to suit customers. Oar facilities aito an. that it is impossible for anyone to compete wrf. ns on onr owncround for eauallv ood Wcrk.

GOLD XUIUX. .PAULS, 1& BAS'JUEL'S

Mfast (M

Warranted sM«M|r pw Cocoa, from which the exom Oil has been removed. Ithaetr*ttnngth GfCocoa ai» rwith Btarcb, Arrowroot 8u and is thvefore far more ecooo«. 1 cal. It fc delicious, noarishw strengthening', eaully digested, admirably adapted tor invalid* well as for persons in health-

Sald.bjOroqwsavwjppssc

R-BuBi I CO., Nnteiter, It

^9 A DDI

Crlc,f»^Spralns,^Wrenches,Kb.

OnMllr anttan, Nevralgia, Bstott--. •a a as «a Pleurisy Fains, Stitch la

PAlilS

Mde,-Backache, 8#o!teaJoir. Heart DUmm* Sora MMci*

Pain in the Cheal^ aadaU pains and aches either loeai deep goatcd are iastantly relieved and speedily cored 1 the well-known Hop ftattrr. Compounded, as it is, the medicinal virtues al fresh Hope, Gums, Balsams. Extracts, it is indeed Ac ft* pafcfrkmiBg, sttmolatir soothing and strengthening Parous Plaster ever mm Bop flesfsrsars sold by all druggists and country star.. cants erfive for fLOO. Malfort on receipt of fir price. Bcp natterOo.,i a Proprietors and Katrsfacturers, Bost(Hi,Msss

PLASTEF

-r^r

EVQoated tongqe, bad breath, sgnr stomach and li--disease cared by Hawley*s Stomach and Liver Pills, gf

"Anskesis-SKW an tnfaiHMe cure for Pile* Price drogpsts,

entai and

aloable inf