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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1891-7-30, Page 2Fanner timaball Talks. This is Me Ent stansliag saY Barn door, Smakee eitY seegars Which the mon roues (save me ahopite '17o bribe mo fur Better grub. Dana you, know Me? Why, Cm the farmer — Yahoo, ha,ysoed, greeny— But I take Summer boarders! Yes, an' 1 skin 'em Too. When city board Goes eosvu, Mine goes up— . Way un to MO in the shade. Do 1 work? Well, I guess no ! Not now, Icestways, Kob whoa city gents And their ladies Wants air an' Condensed milk An' skeeters Au' corn -shuck Beds. °hole, t give 'eni all those, too— Fur a price. My wife an' me an the gals Drinks cream in Summer, you bet. Board is Inglepriced, The dudes is higletoned, The house sets high, An' we live high— In summer. An' I smoke In the barnyard OaliSe its cool— The only cool place On the farm. " Am 1111 it?" As the city feller ser, Well, I guess Yes ! —Kate Field's Washington. TWICE MARRIED CHAPTER XVII. `The sveeks rolled by, and gradually Mrs. Mason. grew convelescent. She ss.as still confined to her room, but the wogat of the pain was over, and she could lie on the sofa by the fireside and have Berlseley read aloud to her in the evenings. Blanche, if she hap - paned to be there, would sit on a low chair -----om my lips. It will explain many beside the sofa, busy with some delicate bitthings." . • of farcy work, and later in the Thea he briefly related all the miserable evening Berke would take her home. commonplace story. He glossed over noth- Sometimes Pocahontas would bring her ing, palliated nothing; bearing hardly now work and listen, or pretend to listen, with on his wife, and again on ahnself, but striv- the reea but oftener she would go into the ing to show throughout how opposed to parlor and play dreamily to herself for true marriage was this marriage, how far hours. She had taken up her music indus- removed from a perfect union was this triously and practised hard in her spare union. Pocahontas listened with intense, moments. strained interest, following every word, She had been playing a long time one sometimes almost anticipating them. Her evening in April, and had left the piano wee heart ached for him—a.ched wearily. Life a low chair beside the open fire. She the had been so hard upon him ; he had suffered H,- •Altheugh sprhig had come. eveain name ; she ceased to be my the woman who was my wife --whom you. wife M feet two years ago. Oureey. my wife still—is about th marry lives have drifthd utterly asunder.. It was &gams To lein her life—as free andeeParate her will, and 1 acemieseed in it, for she had from mine as though we had never met—to ewer loved me, and 1—wlien my idiotic in the life of another snail. Isn't that enough? fatuetion for her heartlese diabolical beauty Cant you see how completely every tie be- paesed, heel ceased to IQ e her, At last, tsveen us ie SeVered?" even my presence became a trouble to her, Pocahontas shoots her head, " 1 can not evhich she M'aS at no plus to conceal. The understand you, and you will not under - breach between us widened with the years, stand me," she said mournfully ; " her sin until nothing remained to us but the galling will not lessen our sin ; xtor her unholy strain of a useless fetter. Now that is mertiage make ours pure and righteous." brokeu, and we are free,"—there wee an Thorne stamped hie foot. "Do you, exultant ring in his voice, as though his ,with to madden me ?" he exclaimed ; freedom were precious to him. " there is no sin, I tell you • nor would our Were you bound, or free, that night at marriage be unholy. You are torturing us Shirley ? " questioned the girl, elowly end both for nothing on Cloa's earth but a " In heart and thought I was free, but in S°rFir'a, moment Pocahontas lay quietly steadily, fact Ewas bound," he acknowledged. "The in ble arms, luiled into quiescence. Then words I spoke on the steps that night es- she wrenched herself free and moved caped me unaware. I was thrtured away from him. It had 'been said of by jealousy, and tempted by lova her that she could be hard upon I had no right to speek them then ; nothing oueesiola ; the occasion had arisen, and she MI excuse or palliate the weakness which was hard. allowed me to. I should have waited until "Go !" she said, her face wan as ashes, I could have cense to you untrammeled—as but her voice firm ; "1? is you who are r attempt no justification of my /sled- Gruel ; you who are blind and obstinate. ness, Princess. I have no excuse but my You will neither see nor understand why love, and Oan only sue for pardon. You this thing may not be. I have showed you forgive me, sweetheart "—using the old my thought, and you will not bend ; im- word teuderly—" for the sake of my great ploved you to have pity, and you are love, It's my only plea "—his voice took a merciless. And yet you talk of love You pleedina tone as he advanced the plea love me, and would sacrifice me to hard.eetPof all for a woman to steel •her your love ; love me and would break down heart against. the bulwarks have been taught " /gust I undemtand, Mr. Thorae, that to consider righteous, to gratify your love. love for me suggested the thought of I do not understand; love seemed to Inc so divorcing your wife ?" she questioned different, so noble and unselfish. Leave hoarsely—" that I (lame between you and me; I am tired; I want to think it out caused. this horrible thing ? It is not—it alone." can not be true. God above ! Have Thorne stood silent, his head bent in fallen so low ?—ain I guilty of this terrible thought. "Yes," he said, presently, it sin ?" will be better so. You are overwrought, "Priacess," he said, meeting the hones% and your mind is worn with excitenaent agonized eyes squarely, "1 want to tell you you need rest. To -morrow, next week, the the story of my marriage with Ethel Ross, week after, this matter will wear a different and of my subsequent life with her. I had aspect. I can wait, and I will come again. not iatended to harms you with it imtil It will be different then." later—if at all; but now, I deem it best , "It will never be different." the voice that you should become acquainted with it, look. low; the gray eyes had a hopeless CHAPTER XVIII. • The next day Thorne quitely returned to New York, without making any attempt to see or cortununieste with Pocahontas again. He had. considered the situation earnestly, aconudrsde.ecided that it would be his wisest Pocahontas told her mother, very quietly, of Thorne's visit, his proposal, and. her re- jection of it; just the bare facts, Without comment or elaboration. But Mrs. Mason had a mother's insight and could read be- tween the lines; she did not harass her daughter with many words, even of ap- proval; or with questions; she simply drew the sweet young face down to her bosom a moneent, and held it there with tender kisses. Nor did Berkeley, to whom his mother communicated the fact, volunteer any comment th his sister. After what had passed, Thorne's proposal was not a surprise, and. to them the girl's answer was a foregone conclusion. Poor child.! the brother thought impatiently, the raother wistfully, how much bitterness would have been spared her could. she only have loved Jim Byrd. During the weeks that followed Thorne's second return north, the two families were thrown together more and more intimately. Blanche's engage- ment and Warner's increased illness served to break down all restraints. All through the winter the boy had steadily lost ground, and as the spring progressed, hestead of rallying as they .hoped, his declines became more rapid. The best advice was had, but science could only bear the announcement of bereavement; there was nothing to be, done, the doctors said, save to alleviate pain, and let the end cense peacefully; it was needless to worry the boy with change, or bootless experiments. Even to the mother's -wilfully blinded eyes, and falsely - fed hopes, conviction came at last that her son's days were numbered. Berkeley, Royal' and other of the neigh- boring gentlemen took turns in aiding with the nursing and the night -watches, as is the custom in southern country neighborhoods where professional nurses are unknown. Of all the kindly friends that watched and tended him through long weeks of ill- ness, the one that Warner learned to love the best was Berkeley Mason. There was a thoughtful strength in the nature of the 'than who had suffered, the soldier who had endured, which the weaker nature recknized and rested on. To the general, diming his 'time of trouble, the 'young man became, in very trnth, a. son ; the old debt Of kiadness was cancelled, and a rieveaccount opened with a change in the balance • On a still, beautiful May morning, Wexner was laid to rest in. the Lanarth graveyard beside poor Temple Mason. It was the boy's own request, and bis mother felt constrained to comply with it, although she would have preferred interring the remains of her child beside those of her own people at Greenwood., The story of the young life beating itself out against prison bars, had taken strong hold of the lad's imagination, and the fancy grew that he too would sleep more sweetly under the shadow of the old cedars in the land the young soldier had loved so well. Norma. and Pocahontas stood near each other beside the newlyanade grave, and as they quitted the inclosure; their hands met for an instant coldly. Poca- hontas tried not to harbor resent- ment, but she could not forget whose hand it had been that had struck her the first bitter blow. After Warner's death, Mrs. Smith ap- peared. to collapse, mentally as well as bodily. She remained day after day shut in his chamber, brooding silently and re- jecting with dumb apathy all, sympathy ancl consolation. Her strength and appetite declined, and her interest in life deserted her, leaving a hopeless quiescence that was inexpreseibly pitiful. Her husband, in alarm for her life and reason, hurriedly de- cided to break up the establithment at Shirley, and remove her for &time from sur- roundings that constantly reminded her of , her loss. " In the beginning of june, the move was made, the house closed, the servants dis- missed, and the care of the estate turned over to Berkeley. With the dawning of summer, the birds of passage winged their flight northward. so. With a woman's involtuatary hardness evenings were chill ancl the room was to woman, she raised the blame from large. Her hands were cold and Thorne's shoulders and heaped it upon she spread them out to the blaze. The those of his wife. Her love and heavy curtains billowed and sank and bit- her sympathy became his advocates and lowea again, as intrusive puffs of wind crept pleaded for him at the bar of her judgment. officiously through the crevices of the old Her heart yearned over him with infinite casements. Blanche and Berkeley were compassion. with her mother, and they were reading He saw that her sympathy had been "Lorna Dome." She had read the book aroused, that she suffered for and with him, a week ago, and did not care to hear it and he could not forbear from striving to over. , push the advantage. Ha went on speak - The front door opened quietly—it was ing earnestly; he demonstrated that this always on the latch—and footsteps came marriage which had proved so disastrous alone the hall quick, eager footsteps, was in truth no marriage, ancl that its annul - straight to the parlor door ; the knob rnent was just and right, for where there turned. No need to turn her head, no need was no love he argued, there could be no, to question of her heart whose step, whose 'marriage. love, all the sophistry ' - with all hand that was, to guess whose presence the subtle arguments of whichhe was filled the room. • master—and they were neither weak nor Thorne came across the ream, and stood few—he assailed her. Every power of his opposite, a great light Of joy in his eyes, brilliant intellect, every weapon of his his hands outstretched for " hers. Be. mental armory, all the force of his indomit- numbed with many emotioesa Pocahontas able will was 'brought to bear upon her— half-rose, an inarticulate murmur dying on andbrought to bear in vain. her lips. Thorne put her gently back into Calm, pale, resolute, she faced him—her her chair, and drew one for hitnself up to clear eyes meeting his, her nervous hands the hearth -rug near her ; he was willing folded tightly together. She would not to keep silence for a little space, to give give way. In their earnestness both had her time to recover herself ; he was satis- risen, and they stood facing each other on fled for the moment with the sense of her the hearth -rug, their eyes nearly on a level. nearness, and his heart was filled with the The man's hand rested on the mantle and joy of seeing her once more. The quivered with the intensity of his excite - lamps were lit, but burning dimly. Thorne ment ; the woman's hung straight before rose and turned both to their fullest bril- her, motionless, but wrung together until liancy ; he must have light to see his love. the knuckles showed hard through the tense "1 want to look at you, Princess," he skin. She would not give way. said, gently, seeking her eyes, with a look " My love !" he murmured, extending in his not to be misunderstood ; "it has his arms with an appealing tenderness been so long, so cruelly long, my darling, of look and gesture. "Come to me. since I have looked on your sweet face. Lay your sweet face on my breast, You must not call the others. For this your dear arms around my neck. I need first meeting I want but you—you only, you, Princess ; my heart cries out for you, my love ! my queen 1" His voice lingered and will not be denied. I ca,n not live over the terms of endearinent withexquisite without you." You are mine—mine alone, tenderness. • and: I claim your love ; claim your life. Pocahontas was silent,-afor her life .she Whatis that'woman ? What is any woman, could 1101 have spoken then. Her gra eyes to me, save you, my alarliag—you enly ? had an appealing, terrified look as they ihet My love ! My love 1 It is my very life his ; her trembling hands' clasped and un- for which I ern pleading. • Have you iso clasped in her lap. • pity? No love for the issart whose heart, is " How frightened you look, my darling," calling you to come ?" Thorne murmured, speaking softly and Pocahontas shivered, and bent slightly keeping a tight rein over himself. "Your forward—her face was white as death, eyes are like a startled fawn's. Have I her eyes strange and troubled. The been too abrupt—too thoughtless and Moon- strength and Ere of his passion siderate ? You would forgive me, love if drew her toward him as a magnet draws you knew how I have longed for you ; have steel. Was she yielding? Would she give yearned for this meeting as Dives yearned for way? water—as the condemned yearn for reprieve. Suddenly she started erect again, an Have you no smile for me sweetheart? drew back a step. All the emotions, preju- -no word of welcome for the man whose dices, thoughts of her past life, all the heaven is your love? You knew I would principles, scruples, influences' amid which come. You knew I loved you, Princess." she had been reared, crowdedback on her " Yes," the word was breathed, rather and asserted their power. She could not do than uttred, but he heard it and made a this thing. A chasm black as the grave, half movement forward, the light in his hopeless as death, yawned at her feet; a eyes glowing more passionately. Still, he barrier as high as heavener ected itself be- held himself in check ; he would give her fore her. time. "1 can not come," she wailed in anguish. "You knew I loved you, Princess," he "Have you no mercy ?—no pity for me? repeated. " Yes, you must have known. 1 There is a barrier between us I dare not Love like mine could not be concealed ; it 1 level ;a chasm I cannot cross." must burn its way through all obstacles " There is no barrier " responded.Thorne, from my heart to yours, melting and vehemently, "and 1 will acknowledge fusing them into one. Don't try to speak none. I am a free man ; you are a free yet, love, there is no need to answer woman, a,nd there is no law, human or unless you wish. I cs,n svait—for I am divine, to keep us asunder, save the law near you." of your own will. If there be a °Imam— Pocahontas rallied her forces resolutely, which I do not see ; which 1 swear does called up her pride, her womanhood, her not exist—I will cross it. If you can not sense of the wrong he had done her. If she come to me, I can come to you; and I will: shoulki give way an instants—if she should You are mine, and I will hold you—here in yield a, hair's breadth, she would be lost. .my arms, on my breast, in my heart. Have The look in his eyes, the teedernese of his you, and hold you, so help me God 1" voice, appeared to sap the foluidations of With a pack stride he crossed the small her resolution and to then her heart to wax space between them and stood close, but within. her. ; still not touching her. " Why have you come ?" she wailed, her "Have yon no pity?" she moaned. tone one of passionate reproach. "Had you "None," he answered hoarsely. " Have not done harm enough? Why have you you any for me ?—for us both? I love you come 1 —how well, God knows, I was not aware Thorne started slightly, but commanded until to-night—and you love me I hope and himself. It wits the former marriage ;the believe, There is nothing between ue save divorce ; she felt it keenly—every Woman an idle scruple, which even the censorious must ; some eursed meddler had told her. world does riot share. I ask you to commit " My darling," he ansvvered, with patient no sin ; to share no disgrace. 1 ask you to tenderness, " 3rMi. know why I have come— be may wife before thh face of day ; before why it was impossible for me to keep away. the eyes of men; in the sight of heaven!" I love you, Princees, as a man loves but Could, she be hie wife in the sight of once in his life. Will you come to me? heaven? It was all so strange to her, she Will yott be rity wife? could not 'understand. Words, carelessly The girl shook her head, and moved her heard and scarcely heeded, came back to hand with a gesture of deriial ; words she her, and rung their changes in her brain had none. with ceaseless iteration. It was like a "I know of what you are thinking, Prin- se I know tl e 1 tl t ftas " Nesbit " she mid wearily, using hie OCSS. cea ias token pos- Sesion of your mind. Yon have heard of lame unconsciously, "listen and unders thy former marriage, and you know that the stand ina It the eyes of the law and of woman who was My wife still liven Is it mess you aro free ; boti 1 can not ace it 80. nOt SO 1" She bent her head in mute assmit. n nty eyes you are still boustd." Thorne gazed at, her pale, resolute face with "1 ata not betted," denied Thorne, his brows koit heavily, mai then con- fiercely, bringing his hand down heavily ehange. They must, take her abroad, mid t inned : on. the mantle whoever tette you that try what the excitemeet of foreign travel Of this fact Cecil Cumberland needed no Smith, who had abandoned every care and interest for the purpose of devoting himself to his wife, embraced the proposal with eagerness, and insisted on the experiment being tried as speedily as possible. ° Sozne weeks before the day appointed for her marriage, Ethel removed herself and her belongings to the houee of a poor and plastic). aunt, who was in the lutbit of allowing her- self to be run into any mould Iser niece thould require. Accordhig to their agree- ment, Ethel gave her whiten' husband due notice of her plans, and Thorne at oisce reznoved. the child to Brook- lyn, and placed him under the care of a sister of his father's, a gentle elderly widow who had known sor- row. His house he put in the hands of an Demist to rent or sell furnished only remov- ing such articles as had belonged to his parents. The house was hateful to him, and he felt that should the beautiful, new life of which he dreamed ever dawn for him, it must be set amid different surroundings. from those which had framed his matrimo- nial fallure. Twelve hours after the marriage had been published to the world, another marked paper was speed- ing southward, addressed this time to Pocahontas, and accompanied by a thick, closely written, letter. Thorne had decided that it would be better to send a messenger before, this time, to prepare the way for him. In his letter Thorne touched but lightly on the point at issue between them. thinking it better to take it for granted that her views had modified, if not changed. The strength of his cause lay in his love, his lonelinees, ills yearning need of her. On these themes he dwelt with all the eloquence of which he was master, and the letter closed with a passion- ate appeal, in which he poured out the long repressed fire of his love: "My &senile, tell me I may come to you—or rather tell me nothing; I will understand and in- terpret your silence rightly. You are proud, my beautiful love, and in all things I will spare you --in all things be gentle to you; in all things, save this—I cannot give you up—'I will not give you up. I will wait here for another week, and if I do not hear from you, I will start, for Virginia at once— with joy and pride and enduring thankful - I> Iless. Pocahontas took the paper to her mother's room, the letter she put quietly away. She would answer it, but not yet; at night --when the house should be quiet she would answer it. The lines containing the brief announce- ment were at the head of the list : MARRIED. c..RLAND-Tito..—Ae the Church of the Holy Trinity, September 21st, 18—, by the Rev. John Sylvestus, Cecil Cumberland to Ethel Ross Thorne, both of this city. Mrs. Mason laid the paper on the little stand beside her chair. My daughter," she said, looking up at the girl seriously, "this can make no difference." "No, mother," very quietly, " no differ ence ; but I thought you ought to know." If only she could think that this made a difference. She was very weary of the struggle. The arguments which formerly sustained her had, with ceaseless iteration, lost their force ; her battle -worn mind longed to throw down its arms in uncondi- tional surrender. Her up -bringing had been so different ; this thing was not re- garded by the world in the same light as it appeared to her ; was she over -strained, opinionated, censorious? Nesbit had called her so—was he right? Who was she, to set up her feeble judgment against the world's verdict—to condemn and criticise society's decision? Divorce must be—even Scripture allowed that; a limb must be sacrificed sometimes that a life might be saved. CHAPTER IX. CHAPTER XIX. The slimmer passed quietly for the family at La,narth, broken only by the usual social happenings visits from the "Byrd girls," as they. were called, with their nusbands and little ones ; a marriage, a christening, letters from Jim aim' Susie, and measles among the little Garnetts. In August, Pocahozitas and her mother went for a month to Piedmont, Virginia, to try the medicinal watere for the tatter's themes tints; and after their return home, Berkeley took a holiday and ran up to the Adiron- clacks to see Blanche. Poor Mrs. Smith (lid net rally ati her farnily had hoped, end the physicians—as is eustornary when a ease beiges their skill— all recommended further and more complete Winter again ; the city dull, listless and sodden of aspect in the gloom of a januatm evening. Since her return from her wedding trip, which had lengthened to four months amid the delights of Paris, Mrs. Cumberland had found time for' only one short visit to her little son. There had been such an accumulation of social duties and engagements that pilgrimages over to Brooklyn were out of the question; and besides, she disliked Mrs. Cresswell, Thorne's aunt, who had charge of the boy, and who had the bad taste, Ethel felt sure, to disapprove of her. It was too bad of Nesbit to put the child so far away, and with a person whom she did not like; it amounted. to a total separation, for of course it would be impossible for her to make Such a journey often. A sharp ring at the door -bell, tardily 'answered by a servant, and then footsteps approached the parlor door. Husband and wife looked up with 'interest—with expec- tation. Was it a visitor'i No; only the servant with a telegram which he handed Mr. Cumberland and then withdrew. Cecil turned the thin envelope in his hand inquisi- tively. He was fond of having everything pass through his own hands—of knowing all the ins and outs, the minutite of daily hap- penings. "What is id?" questioned Ethel, indo- lently. " despatch for you. Shall I open 11 7" "11 you like. I hate despatches. They always suggest unpleasant possibilities. It's a local, so I guess it's from my aunt, about that rulobishing dinner of hers." Cecil tore open the envelope and read the few words it contained with a lengthening visage; then he let his hand fall, and stared blankly across at his wife. "It's from that fellow I and it's about the child," he said, uneasily.. "What fellow? What child ? Not mine I Give it th me quickly, Cecil. How slow you are." And she snatched the telegram from his unresisting hand. Hastily she scanned the words, her breath coming in gasps, her fmgers trembling so that she could scarcely hold. the paper. "The child is dying. Corne at once !" That was all, and the message was signed Nesbit Thorne. Short, curt, peremptory, as our words are apt to be in moments of intense emotion ; a bald fact roughly stated. "Cecil 1" she dried, sharply, "don't you hear? My child ! My baby is dying! Why do you stand there staring at me? I must go—you must take me to him now, this in- staot, or it will be too late. Don't you understand? My darling—my boy ie dying !" and she burst into a passion of g,rief, wringing her hands and wailing. Go eend for a carriage. There's not a moment to lose. Oh, my baby l—my baby!" " You can't go out in this storns. It's sleeting heavily, and I've been ill. I can't let you go all that distance with only a maid, and how am I to turn out in such weather ? " objected Mr. Cumberland, who, when he was opposed to a thing, was an adept in piling up obstacles." I tell you it's impessible, Ethel. It's madness, on such a night as this." "Who cares for the storm " raved Ethel, whose feelings, if eva,nescent, were intense. "I will go, Cecil I I don't want you. I'll go by myself. Nothing shall stop me. If it same. I'll walk --I'll crawl there, before I will stay here and let my boy die without me. He is niy baby—my own child, I tell you, Coeil !—if 1m int% yours ! " " Listen te me, Princess, 'bet, waI am, lies, and the truthis not ia rite woleal de toward preventing her from sink- thininder. It was thorn that pricked and stormed fire and blood I shou d go all the el Aoss---is ' Wife tio i""0'e • told you all—a,nd yet opt alL Ethel Rosso big into eonflrnied invalidism. Geoeral sitting even his dull nature—fer the ,t1 g father lived. To a jealous temperament it is galling to be reminded of a predecessor in a wife's affections, oven when the grave has closed over him ; if the men still lives, it is intolerable. He was not a brute, and he know that he must yield to his wife's( pressure—that he had no choice but to yield - but he stood for a moment irresolute, staring at her with lowering brows, a, hearty curse on living father and dying child slowly formulating in his breast. As he turned to leave the room to give the necessary °ruin, a carriage drove rapidly to the door and stopped, and there was a viperous pull at the bell. Thorne had provided against all possible delay. Then the question arose of who should accompany her, and they found that there was not a sing'le available woman in the house. It was impossible to let her go alone and Cumberland, with the curses rising from his Itea,rt to his lips, was forced, in very manhood, to go with her himself. In Brooklyn Mrs. Creswell met them her- self at the door, and appeared surprised— as well she nsight—to see Mr: Cumberland. She motioned Ethel toward the staircase, and then with a fennel inclination of the head, ushered her more tinwelcome guest into a small parlor where there was a fire and a lamp burning. Here she left him alone. Her house was in the suburbs, and there was nowhere else for him to go at that hour of the night and in that terrible storm. The room was warm and cheerful, a thild's toy's lay scattered on floor and sofa, a little hat and coat were on the table, beside a cigar case and a crumpled newspaper. There was nothing for the man to do save to stare around and walls the floor impatiently, longing for death to hasten with •his work, so that the false position might be ended. Guided. by unerring instinct, Ethel went straight to the chamber where her child lay dying—perhaps already dead. Outside the door she paused with her hand pressed hard on her throbbing heart. It was a piteous sight that met her view as the door swung open, rendered doubly piteous by the circumstances. A luxurious room, a brooding silence, a tiny white bed on which a little child lay, slowly and pain- fully breathing his life away. (To be continued.) Two-strihe. The out -door household work in summer such as that of the summer -kitchen, washing and ironing, is a sort of makeshift with many mishaps like burns and scads. But Mr. Jno. Heinemann, Middle Anima, Iowa. U. S. A., has found the true remedy. He says: "1 scalded my leg with boiling water, and had a sprained ankle at the same time. One bottle of St. Jacobs Oil promptly cured both." That doubles its value easily, and shosvs its great usefulness. Get Their Names in tke !rapers. Rochester Herald: The summer is no sooner here than people begin th go in bathing where the water is deep without stopping to reflect upon the dangers which surround a person who goes into water where wading is impossible and good swimming is imperatively necessary. The inexperienced boatman who "changes places," the bather who can't swim, the amateur yachtsman who doesn't know enough to a,nticipate a squall and tbe surf bather who is ignorant of the strength of the undertow, are all mentioned in the newspapers at this season of the year, and unhappily they all figure in the mortuary list. Why don't the people learn to swim?' Both Saint and Sinner. It troubles the sinner and troubles the saint,. It's a troublesome, trying and nasty complaint, Don't think it incurable ; I tell you it ain't. Excuse the grammar • it's the truth Pm after, whether grammxitically or ungram- matically told. The truth is that Catarrh can be cured. The proprietors of Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy offer $500 for an incurable case of Catarrh in the Head. TUE SYMFTOMS OF CATARMI. —Headache, obstruction of the nose, discharges falling into the throat, sometimes profuse, watery and acrid, at others, thick, tenacious, mucous, purulent, bloody, putrid and offensive; eyes weak, ringing in the ears, deafness ; offensive breath, smell and taste impaired, and general debility. Only a few of these symptoms th be present at once. Dr. Sage's Remedy cures the worst cases. Only 50 cents. Sold by druggists, everywhere. They Like Fat Girls' in Tunis. A Tunisian girl has nomhance of marriage unless she tips the scales at 200 'pounds, and th that end she commences to fatten when • she is 15 year e bid. The takes aperients and eats a great deal of sweet stuff and leads_ a sedentary life to hasten the process. Up to 15 she is very handsome, but at 20 what an immense, unwieldly mass of fat she be- comes. She waddles, or undulates, along the street. Her costume is very picturesque, especially if she be of the richer class. They are clothed in fine silk of resplendent hues of bright yellow or green, and wear a sort of conical -shaped head dress, from which de- pends a loose, white drapery. Turkish trousers and dainty slippers, the heels of which barely reach the middle of the foot, complete costume.—Pittebarg Dispatch. Never Rind the Administration. Rochester Herald :' The America,n named Duncan, who beat bis pretty wife over the heed with a rock at Bettass y Coed, a famous resort in Wales, has bee. placed in an in- sane asylum there to remain for life, or (luting the pleasure of tt s eueen, unless a change of administration erten sooner re- lease him. Long life to Victoria A Sad Awakening! "When in the dark, on thy soft hand I hung, And heard the tempting syren of thy tongue— What flames—what darts—what anguish en- dured, But when the candle entered—I was cured!" Such complexions as so many of our young ladies possess—dull, pimply, and covered with sores and blackheads, is enough to cool the ardor of the warmest lover. To such young ladies we would say, that you can never have a soft, fair, smooth, attractive, kissable complexion, unless your blood is healthy and pure, for the condition of the blood deekles the complex: - ion. Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery will petrify your blood, tone up your system, and drive away those distressing headaches and backache, from which you suffer periodically, and give you a complexion a lily or rose -leaf might envy, Minnie Palmer will make her reappear- ance in London in September and in the following month will comnience a tour of the provinces. "1 see now," said he sadly, after he had lost his money on m the ball gamm "why they sly blind as a bat.' The bat didn't seem to see the ball once." Gladstone is comparatively a poor man, and this occasionalliterary work he does for magazines and periodicale is not the reeult of any desire to add to his eetablished ferias as 6, writer. BrOan—Here is some tobacco, my peer man. "Von must feel the loss of a smoke after dinner. , Tramp—No, sir. I feel the loss of my dinner before the emoke. ugust 10W 99 14 Verlaaps yOti do not believe these Statements concerning Green's Au- gust Plower. Well, we can't make you. We can't force conviction in. - to your bead or med- DOubting icine in to your throat. We don't Thomas, want to. The money is yours, and the misery is yours; and until. you are willing to believe, and spend the one for the relief of the other, they will stay so. John Foster, 1122 Brown Street, P13.iladelphia, says: "My wife is a little Scotch woman, thirty years of age and of a naturally delicate disposition. For five or six years past she has been suffering from Dyspepsia. She became so bad at last Vomit that she could not sit Every Meal. down to a meal but she had to vomit it as soon as she had. eaten it. Two bottles of your August Flower have cured her, after many doctors failed. Shecan now eat anything, and enjoy it; and as for Dyspepsia, she does not know that she ever had it." 'UMW WREN MALI RE RAISE MAT 2' Read This and the Question wilt Never Bother Ton Again. 1. When he bows to a lady or an elderly ge2n.tlewmha When he is with a lady who bows to any person, even if the other is a total stranger to him. 3. When he salutes a gentleman who is in the company of ladies. 4. When he is in the company of another gentleman who bows to a lady. 5. When he is with a lady and meets a, gentleman whom he knows. 6. When he offers any civility to a lady who is a stranger to him. 7. When he parts with a lady, after speaking to her, or after walking or driving with her, etc.—Young Ladies' Fashion Bazar. "Woman's Sndier-age" Was what a witty woman called that period. of life which all middle-aged pass through, and during which so many seem to think they must suffer—that Nature intended it so. The same lady added.: "If you don't believe in woman's suffer-age,'there is one ballot which will effectually defeat it—Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription." This is true, not only at the period of middle life, but at all ages when women suffer front uterine diseases, painful irregularities, in- flammation, ulceration or prolapsus, the "Favorite Prescription" so strengthens the weak or diseased organs and enriches the blood, that years of health and enjoyment. are added to life. An Equivocal Putt. Harper'sBazaar : Did.you see the notice I gave you?" said the editor to the grocer. Yes ; and I don't want another. The man who says I've got plenty of sand, that .the milk I sell is of the first water, and that my butter is the strongest in the market, may mean well, but he is not the man I want to flatter me a second time." • Sir Gordon Not in thefts& Puck : Rockaway Beach—We tried to play bacca.wat at owah club theathah night, but couldn't iraniage it. • Howell Gibbon—Why not ? Rockaway Beach—All the fellahs wanted. to be bankaw. The pwince was •bankavr, you know. An Eye to Business. E'poch: Melancholy. Stranger—You are sure this poison will kill a man? Druggist—Yes, air, I can guarantee it. By the way, if you are going to commit suicide, I wish you'd put one of our circu- lars in your pocket. It'll be a bigadvertise- merit fol. us when your body is found. Preparing for the Seamkore. Jerceders' Circular : ChollY0helnionderly --Now we're all pwepared for our twip. But I seem to forget something. • Valet—Have you ordered the engagement rings ? • °holly 0.—Aw, that's it Go to Tint- parifs and awder a dozen. A Vital Rtlestion. Pick: The bosom friend—They tell me„ Nell, that you are engaged. • The victim—Dear me! Te it to anyone I know? All the women of the Variberbilt family are notable for their good looks. Mrs. Cor- nelius Vanderbilt has a calm, lovely face which is suggestive of the 1VIadonno. Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt has a fine figure which she carries with much stateliness ; her eyes are dark blue and her hair is a. ruddy bronze brown. Mrs. Frederick W. Vanderbilt, however, is the beauty of the house of Vanderbilt. Her figure is extremely graceful, her complexion lovely and her ham has the glint and glimmer of golden sun- beams in them. The son of General Isidro 1:frtecho, Com- mander -in -Chief of the Nicaraguan army, is the only foreign cadet at West Pohtt. He is a young man of 20, tall and active, with swarthy skin and flashing black eyes. The house which Lord Revelstoke was building previous to the Baring failure is now Baron Hirsch's. . Mrs. William Waldorf Astor is one of the finest mandolin players in New York's 400. The number of English words which have no rhyme in the language is very large. Arnoung them are mouth, silver, liquid, spirit, chimney, warmth, gulf, sylph, music, breadth, width, depth, honor, iron echo. There is an absolute potato famine in some parts of Maine, and the people have eaten no potatoes for several weeks, the old crops having been exhausted and no new ones imported. One of the gardeners of Beyott Sara, in Louisiana, has produced a tomato that weighs twenty-seven pounds, and he now proposes to rest on his laurels until his com- petitors ketchup with that. A bare-footed girl of Big Stone, Tenn., recently killed 63 rattlesnakes and escaped without being bitthn. Her feet, were prob- ably developed m Chicago. The Texas cattleman says the outlook at present is that the supply of cattle from that state will fall short 1,000,000 head ate compared with the number last year. • Uncle Russell Sago hag shaved off all his whiskers( for the first time in many years, and, although he is /5 years eht his face is round and untheatt a wrinkle.