Press Alt + R to read the document text or Alt + P to download or print.
This document contains no pages.
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1872-05-31, Page 2AUNT PEN'S. FUNERAL
Poor Aunt Pen! Item wry to
say it, bat for a peison alight and
well---Itoleably well and -very much
alivejthat is—she did use to make
the greateete busineet of dying I
Alive ! ythee‘twhen she Was stretch-
ed out oh the sofa, after an agony of
asthrea, or indigestion, or whatever, ,
and had called us all about her with
faltering and tears, and was appar-
ently at her last gasp, she would sud-
denly rise, like herowri ghoet, at the
sound of a second ringing of the,
door -belle which, our little renegade
Israel had failed to answer, and de-
clare if she could only once lay bandit
on Israel she -would box his ears till
they heard !
For the door -bell was, perhaps,
among many, one Of Aunt Pen's
weakest points. She knew every-
body in town, as you might say. She
was exceedingly - entertaining to
every body .outside the family. , She
was a great- favorite with every
body. Countless. gossips came to
see her, tinkling at the door -bell
and hated individually by Isms',
brought her all the news, heard all
the previous ones had brought, ad-
• -mired her, praised her,. pitied her,
' listened to her, and went away key-
ing her tin such satisfied mood that
she did not dieany mote that. rie.y.
• And as they went away they' alwaters
paused at the door to say to some 4
one of us Whet a cheerful invalid
Aunt Pen had made herself, and
what a nest of sunbeams her room
alwaya. was, a.ncl whata lesson her
patience and endurance ought to be..'
-
But, oh dear me, how very little
they knew about it all ! -
We all lived together, as it hap-
pened; -for when we children were
left alone wieh but a small income,
Aunt E'en—who was also alone, and
only ofive years' my senior—wrote
• wordthat we might as Well come th
her house in the city, for it wouldn't
make expenses more, and might
• make them less if we divided them;
and then, too, she said .she would al-
ways be sure of one out of three
bright and reasonable nurses. Poor
Aunt Pen 1 perhaps the didn't find
us either so bright or • so reasonable
as she had expected, for we used to
think that in her lessi"degree she
‘cejl
went on the same pri i letwith the
crazy man who declar d all the rest
of the *world except hit:Itself insane.
In honest truth, as doctor after
doctor was turned away by the im-
patient, and distempered woman up
• stairs, each One todk occasion to say
to us down stairs that our attnes ill-
ness was of that nature that all the
physic -it required was to have her
• fancies humored, and that we never
need give ourselves •any uneasiness,
foe she would doubtless live to. a
good cid age, unless sorne•acute dis-
ease should intervene, as there was
nothing at all the matter with her
• except a slight nervous sensitive-
ness, that never destroyed any body.
I suppose we were a set of young
heathens, for really there were
times; if yen will believe it, when
that was not the inost_reassuring
statement in the world. •
.
\ However. Sometimes Aunt Pen
• found a doctoit or a medicine, or a
_course of diet, or something, that
• gave he great sensations of relief,
and then she would come down, and
go about the 'house, and praise our
administration, and say every thing
thing went twice es far as it used to go
before we came, and tell us delightful •
stories of our mother's housewifely
• skill, and be quite herself again;
and she Would make the ta.ble ring
with laughing, and give charming
little tea-parties; and then we all
did wish that Aunt Pen would live
forever—and be clown stairs. But
probably the next day, after one of
•t, the tea-parties, oysters- or' claret
puech or hot cakes, or all toe -ether,
• had wrought their d'Alene, and the
• doctor was sent for, and the warm-.
• ing-pan wos brought out, and there
•Was - another six week's seige, in
which, obeyed by every one, and
'physicked by herself, andsympath-
ized with to her heart's content by
callers, and shut np in a hot room
with the windows full of floveering
' plants-, and somebody reading end-
• less novels to her with, the lights
- burning all night long—if she was-
• n't ill she had every reason to be,
• and nothing bet an indomitable con-
stitution hindered -it. It was per-
• fectly idle for us to tell her she was•
herself; it only made .her
very indignant with us,andmore
• determined than ever' to persist in
doing so. t
Of course,: then; the longer Aunt
Pen staid in -her room the worse she
really did get, and her nerves, with
•Iconfinement and worry and relaxa-
tion, would by -and by be in a condi-
• tion for any sort of an Outburst if we
attempted the least reasoning with
her. She would become, for one
thing, as sleepless as an owl; then
she was thoroughly sure she was go-
• ing to be insane,
and down would
go the hydrate of ohloral till the
doctor forbade it on pain of death.
After the chloral, too, such horrid
eyes as she had! the eyes, you know,
that chloral always leaves—inflam-
ed, purple, swollen, heavy, crying,
' and good for anything but seeing.
•THE HURON EXPOSITOR.
MAY 31 1872.
Immediately then Aunt Pen went
into a new tantrum • she watt going
to be stone-blind, and dependent on
three heartless hussies for all her
mereies in this life; but no, thank
goodn4e5s ! she had friends that
We* see that she did not go abso-
latelY te the wall, and would never
suffer her fe be int potted on by a parcel
of girls 'who didn't care whether she
lived. or died—who perhaps would
rather she did die—who stood open-
handed for her bequests ;she would.
leave her money to the almshouse,
and if we wanted it we could go and
get it there 1 And after that, to be
sure, Aunt Pen would have a fit of
remorse for her words, and confess
her sin chokingly, and have us all
• come separately and forgive her, and
would say she was the wretched -
est woma,mon the face of the earth,
that she should live undesired till
her friends were all tired, and then
die unlamented; and would burst
into tears and cry herself into a tear-
ing headache, and have ice on her
head and a blister on the back of
her neck, and be quite confident that
now she was really going off with
'congeseion of the brain.
'-
After that, for a day or ,wo, she
would be in 'a heavenly frame of
mind with the blister, and cabbage
leaves and simple cerate, and a
couple of mirrors by which to exam-
ine the rise and fall of the blister,
• and having had a hint of real iltness,
• she would consent quite smilingly
to the act of convalescence, and a
descent•to the healthy regiesns of the
parlors once.more. •
But nb sooner were we all gay and
happy in the house again, running
out as we pleased, beginning to
• think of •parties and drives and
theatres and all enjoyment—and
rather unobservant, as young folks
are apt to be unobservant, of Aunt
Pen'tt slight habitual pensiveness in
the absence of guest § or excitentent,
and of her ways generally—than
Aunt Pen would Challenge some
lobster-ealad to mortal combat, and,
of course, come out floored by the
colic. A little whisky then and as
a little gave much ease, she would
try a great deal. The result always
was a precipitate retreat up stairs,
a howling hysteric, bilious cramps,
the doctor, a subcutaneous injection
of morphine in her arm; then chat-
tering like • a magpie, relapse into
awful silenee, and, convinced that
the morphine had been carried
straight to her heart, a composing of
her hands and feet, an injuled
, dis-
miesal of eery soul from the room,
with the assurance that we should
find her straight and stiff and etone-
e
• dead in the morning.
mouldering away into dust like
count on4clay.
She had sent Maria down for Mel
and me to come up stairs with what-
ever occupied US; for she was con-
vinced that she was failing fast, and
knew we should regret it if we did
not havelhe last of her. As we had
receiyed the same message nearly
every day during the last three or
four weeks, we did not feel extraor-
dinarily alarmed, but composedly
took our baskets and sciesors, and
trudged along after Marie.
"I a.D1 sure I ought to be glad
that I've succeeded in training my
nieces into such industrious habits,"
said Aunt Pen, after a little while,
looking at Mel; "but I should
think that when a near, relative ap-
proached the point of death, the fact
might throw needle and thread into
the background for a time." Then
she paused for Maria to fana little
more breath into her. "It's differ-
ent with Helen," soon she said; "the
'white silk shawl she is netting for
me may be needed at any moment
to lay me out in." -
"Dear me, Aunt Pen !" cried
Mel; what a picture you'd be, laid
out in a white net shawl 3" For the
• doctor had told us to laugh at these
whims all we might.
"Oh, you heartless girl !" said
Aunt Pen. "To think of pictures at
such a time 1" And she closed her
eyes as if weary of the world. .
" I never saw any body who liked
to revel in the ghastly the way you
do, Aunt Pen.",
Mel 1" said •Asunt Pen, with
quite a show a color in her cheek,
"1 thall send yon down stairs."
Do," said Mei; "where I can
cut my gown in peace."
"Cutting a gown at the bedside
of the dying! Are you cold-blooded,
or are you inseneible r
"Aunt Pen," said Mel, leaning
on the point of her scissors, "you
know very well that I have to make
my own dresses, or go without them.
And 'you have kept me running your
idle errands, up and down two
flights of .stairs, to the doctor's and
the druggist's, and goodness knows
where andall, till I haven't a
thread of any thing that is fic to be
seen, You've been posturing this
grand finale -of yours, too, all the
last three, weeks, and it's time you
had it perfect now; and you must
let .mealone till I get my gown
done."
"It will do to wear at my funeral,"
said Aunt Pen, bitterly, as she con-
cluded. .
"No, it won't," said Mel, dogged-
ly; " It's red."
• "Red !" cried Aunt Pen, sudden-
ly- opening her eyes, and half rising
on one hand. "What in wonder
have .yon bought a red dress for?
You ere. quite aware that I can't
bear the least intimation of the color.
My nerves are in such a state that a
shred of red makes me—"
i" You won't see it, you know,"
said Mel, in what did seem to me
an unfeeling =inner.
"'No," said Aunt Pen. "Very
true. 1 sha'n't see it. But what,"
edded she, presently, snapping open
her eyes, " considered as •a mere
piece of economy, you baught a red
dress for, when you are immediately
going into black, passes common
sense to conjecture You had better
send it down and have it dyed at
once before you cut •it, for the
shrinkage will spoil it forever if you
dente" •
• ".Much black I shall go into," said
Mel. ;' \
Maria laughed. Aunt Pen cried.
" &mat Pen," said the cruel Mel,
"if you were going to die you would-
n't be crying.. Dying people have
no tears to shed, the doctors say."
• " Sornebodk ought to cry," said
-poor Aunt Pen, witheringly. "Don't
talk to me about doctors," she
continued, after a silence interrupted
only by the snipp;ng of the scissors.
"They area set of quacks. They
• know nothing. I will have all the
doctors in town at my funeral for
pall -bearers. It will be a satire too
delicate for , them to appreciate,
though. Speaking of that occasion,
Helen," she went on, turning to me
as a possible ally, "1 have so many
friends that I suppose the house will
be full."
• " Wouldn't you. enjoy it more
from church, auntie '? ' said I.
"Ob, you hard and wicked girls !"
she cried. "You're all alike. Listen
• to inc! If you won't hear my wishes,
you must take my commands. Now,
in the first place, I want the parlors
to be overflowing with flowers,
literally lined with flowers. I don't
care how much money it takes;
there'll be enough left for you_
more than you deserve. 4nd t Want
you to be very sure that I'm not to
lie exposed unless I look exactly as
I'd like to look. You're to put
ray white silk that I was to have
been married in, and my veil, anJ
the false' orange blossoms. , • They r
all in the third deawer of the press,
and the key's on my chatelaine. And
if—it--well," said Aunt Pen, more,
to herself than us, if he comes,
he'll understand. The Bride of
Death."
After that she did not say any
more for some minutes; and we were
We nevei did. For, as we sel-
dom had ea opportu.nitty of an uti-
disturbed night's rest, we usually
took her at her -word if any
•access of ill temper, or despair, or
drowsiness occasioned banishment
from the presence. Not that we
had always been so calm about it;
there was a tinte when we were ex-
cited with every alarm, thrown into
flurries andpanics quite to Aunt
Pen's mincle_running after the doc-
tor at t wo-o'clock of the morning,
building a fire itt the range ourselves
at midnight to make gruel for her,
rubbing her till we rubbed the skin
off our .hands, combing her hair till
we went to sleep standing, but
Aunt Fen had cried wolf so long,
and the doctors had all declared so
stoutly that there was no wolf, that
oui once soft hearts had become
quite bard and concrete.
, When at last Aunt Pen -had had
an alarm from nearly every illness
for which thee pharmacopceia pre-
scribes, and .she knew that neither
we nor the doctors would listen to
the probability of their recurrence,
she had an attack of "sinking." No,
there was no particular disease, he
used to say, -only sinking; she had
heen 'pulled- down to an extent from
which she had no strength to re-
cuperate ; she was only sinking, a
little weaker to -day than she was
yesterday—only sinking. But Atunt
Pen at a very good breakfast , of
boiled birds and toast and coffee; a
very good lunch of cold meats and
dainties, and a great. goblet of thick
cream; and a very good, dinner of
soup and roast and vegetebles and
, dessert, and perhaps a chicken bone
at eleven 'o'clock in the evening.
And when the saucy little Israel,
who cerried up her tray, heard her
say that she was sinking' he remark-
• ed that it was because of' the load on
her stomach.
One day, I remember, Aunt Pen
was very much -worse than usual.
• We were all in her‘room, a sunshiny
place which she had connected with
the adjoining one by sliding -doors,
so that it might be big enough for
us all to bring our work on Occasion -
and make it lively for her. She had
on a white cashmere dressing -gown
triramed with swan's-down, and she
layamong the luxurious cushions of
blue lounge, with a paler blue
blanket, which she had one . of us
trIcot for her, lying over her feet,
and altogether she looked very ideal
and ethereal; for Aunt Pen always
did have such an eye to pictmesque
• effect that I don't know how she
could • ever consent to the idea of,
all silent and sorry, and Mel was
fidgeting in a riot of repentance ;ewe
had never, either ot us, heard a word
of any romance of Aunt Pen's be-
fore. We began to imagine that
there might be some excuse for the
overthrow of Aunt Pen's nervoes
system, some reality in the over-
throw. You. will leave this ring
on my finger," said she, by-and-by.
"If Chauncey Read comes, and
wants it, he will take it off. It will
fit his finger ak well now, I suppose,
as'it diel when he wore it befme he
grave it to me." • Then Aunt Pen bit
her lip and shut her eyes, and seem-
ed to be slipping off into a gentle
sleep.
"By -the -way 1" said she, sudden-
• ly, sitting upright on the lounge, "1
won't have the horses from Brown's
livery—"
" The what, auntie r
"The horses for the cortege. You
know Brown puts that magnificent
?van of his in the hearse on account
of their handsome action. I'm sure "
Mrs. Gaylard would have been
frightened to death if she could only
have seen the wayf they pranced at
her funeral last fall. I was deter-
mined then that they never should
draw me • " and Aunt Pen shivered
for herself beforehand. "And I
can't have them from Timlines, for
the same reason," said she. "All
his animals are skittish; and you re-
tuember when a pair of them took
fright and dashed away from the
procession and ran straight to the
river, and there'd have been four
other funerals if the schooner at the
whart hadn't stopped the runaways.
And Timlins has a way, too, of let-
ting white horses follow the hearse
with the first mourning -coach, and
it's very bad luck, very—an ill otnen,
a prophecy of Death and the Pale
Horse again,
won't have them
said Aunt Pen,
the greatest ex
Isaac the Jew."
‘f Well, aunti
fal of her late
see but you'll
Shank's mare."
Even Aunt
"Don't you rea
ing to lose me,
" No, auntie,"
all think you are a hypo."
"A hypo"
" Not a hypocrite," said Mel, "but
a hypochondriac."
"1 wish I were," sighed Aunt
Pen; "1 wish I were. I should
have some hope of myself then,"
said the poor inconsistent innocent.
" Oh no, no ; I feel it only too well;
I am going fast. You will all re-
gret your disbelief when I am
gone ;" and she lay back among her
pillows. That retain& me," she
murmured, presently. "About my
Monument."
"Oh, Aunt Pen do be still 1' said
"No," said Aunt Pen, firmly;
"it may he a disagreeable duty, but
that is all the better reason for me
to bring my mind to it. And if I
don't attend to it now, it never will
be attended to. I know what rela-
tives are. They put down a slab of
slate with a skull and cross -bones
scratched on it, and think they've
done their duty. Not that I mean
any reflections on you; you're all
well-meaning, but you're giddy. I
shall haunt you if you do anything
of the kind I No, you may send
Mr. Mason up here this afternoon,
and I will go over his designs with
-him. I am going to have carved
Carrara marble, set in a base of
polished Scotch granite, and the in-
scription is— Girls 1" cried Aunt
Pen, rising and clasping her knees
with unexpected energy, "1 expi•ess-
ly forbid my age being printed in
the paper, or on the lid, or on the
stone 1 I won't gratify every gos-
sip in town, that I won't ! I shall
take real pleasure in baffling- their
curiosity. And another thing, while
1. am about it, don't you ask Torn
Maltby to my funeral, or let him
come in,' if he comes himself, on any
account whatever. I should rise in
my shroud if he approached me.
Yes, I should! Tom Maltby may
be all very well; I dare say he is;
and I hope I die at peace with him
and all mankind, as a good' Chris
-
tier. shoalcl. I forgive him.; yes,
certainly, I forgive him ; but it
doesn't follow that I need forgethim ;
and, so long as I remember him, the
way he conclacted in buying the pew
over my head I can't get over, dead
or alive. And if I only do get well
we shall have a reckoning that will
make his hair stand on end—that he
• may rely on !" And here Aunt
took the fan from Maria, and moved
it actively, till she remembered het -
self, when she resigned it. "One
thing more," she said. "Whatever
happens, Helen, don't let me be
kept over Sunday. There'll certain-
ly be another death in the family
withim the year if you do. If -I die
on Saturday, there's no help for it.
Common decency won't let you shove
me into the ground at once, and so
you will have to make up your
minds for a second summons." And
Aunt Pen, contemplating the suttee
of some one of us with great Philoso-
phy, lay down and closed her eyes
now. And I
Shuses either,"
'for he is simply
rtion.er since old
," said Mel, forget-
epentance, "I don't
have to go with
Pen laughed then.
y think you are go -
els I" asked she.
eplied Maria. "We
again. " You Might bave it by
torch -light on Sunday hight,though,"
said she, half opening them. "That
would be very pretty." And then
she dropped off to sleep with such a
satisfied expression of countenance
that we judged her to be welcoming
in imagination the guests at her last
rites herself,
Whatever the dream was, she was
rudely roused from it by the wretch-
ed little Israel, who came bounding
up the stairs, geld, without word or
warning, burst into the room, al-
rfeost white with horror. Why Israel
was afraid I can't conjecture, but, at
any rate, a permanent fright would
,have been of great personal ad.vant-
age to him. "Oh, ma'am! oh,
miss 1 dere's a pusson down stair, a
cullud woman, wid der small -pox I"
he ahnost whistlecrin his alarm.
"With the small -pox 1" cried
Aunt Pen, springing into the mid-
dle of the floor, regardless of her
late repose in artioulo mortis. "Go
'away, Israel! Have you been near
her? Put her out immediately'? How
on earth did she get them r
"You allus telled me to let every
body in," chattered Lsrael.
"Put her out 1 put her out 1"
cried Aunt Pen, half dancing with
impatience.
"We can't get her out. She's
right acrost der door -step. We's
feared ter tea] her.".
.But., Aunt Pen's head was out of
the window, and she was shouting.
"Police! fire 1 murder! thieves 1"
possibly in the order of importance
• of the four calamities, but quite as
if she had a plenty of breath loft;
and, for a wonder, the police came
to the rescue, and directly afterward
an ambulance took the poor victim
of the frightful epidemic to the hos-
pital. I believe it turned out to
be only measles after all, though."
Rtin, Israel 1" screamed Aunt
Pen then ; "run instantly and bring
home a couple of poupds of roll -
brimstone, and tell the maids to
riddle the furnace ire and make it
as bright and hot as possible, and to
light fires in the parlor grates, lind
in the old Latrobe, and in every
room in the house, without losing a
minute, We'll make this house too
warm for it!"
And, to our amazement, as soon
as Israel came darting back with the
irctpish material, .A tint Pen took a
piece in each hand, directed us to do
the same, and wrapping the blue
afghan round her shoulders, descend-
ed to the lower rooms three steps at
a time, sent for the doctor to come
and vaccinate us, and having set a
chair precisely over the register
-where a red hot stream' of air was
pouring up, the placed herself -upon
it and issued her orders.
Every windtw was closed, every
grate from basement to attic had a
fire lighted in it, and little pansof
brimstone were burning in every
room and hall in the house, while
we, astonished,indigetant,frightened,
and amused, sat enduring the tor-
ments of vapor and sulphur baths to
the point of suffocation.
ing twisted behind him as be wene
to such extent that you might have
supposed he had had his
neck
wrung.
Well, we put the white silk and
the tulle on Aunt Pen. after all;
yellow as it was, she would haven
other—only fresh, natural, orange
bloisoms in place of the false wreath.
And if we had not so often had her
word for it in past times, we never
should have taken her for anything
but the gayest bride, the -most alive
and happy woman, , in. the world.
They returned to the old house frora
their wedding journey, and we all
live together in great peace and
pleasantness. But though three
years hive passed and gone since
Chauncey Read came home aue
brought a new atmosphere with hint
into all our lives, Aunt Pen Lae
never had a sick day yet; and we
find that any allusion to her funeral
gives her such a superstitious trem-
bling that we are pleased to believe
it indefinitely postponed, and by
tacit and mutual consent we never
say anything about it.
I can't bear this another mo-
ment," wheezed Mel.
"It's the only way," replied Aunt
Pen, serenely, with a rivulet trick-
ling down her nose. "You. kill 'the
germs by heat, and since we can't
bake ourselves quite to death, we
make sure of the work by the
fumes."
Anct as she sat there, her face
rubicund, her ewan's-downstraight,
drops on her cheeks, her chin, her
forehead, and whereier drops could
cling, her eyes watering, her curls
limp, and an atmosphere of unbear-
able odor enveloping her in its cloud,
the front -door opened, and a foot-
step rung .on the tiles.
Jess you keep out o' year !" yel-
led Israel to the intruder, seeing it
wasn't the doctor. " We's got teler
small -pox, and am a -killing deagena-
mens--,"
• Pen !" cried a man's voice
through the smoke—a deep, melo-
dious voice.
"What 31 exclaimed Aunt Pen,
starting up, and then pausing, as if
• she fancied the .horrid fumes might
have befogged her brain. -
e Pen!" the voice cried again.
" Chatmcey ! Chauncey Read 1"
she shrieked. "Where do you come
from Am I dreaming'"
"..From the North Pacific,"
answered the voice; and we dimly
discerned its owner groping his way
forward. "From the five years'
whaling voyage into which I was
gagged and dragged—shanghaied,
they call it Oh, Pen, I didn't dare
to hope I should find—"
"Oh, Chauncey, is it your she
cried, and fell fainting at his feet.
The draught from the open door
after him was blowing away the
smoke, and we saw what a gteat,
sunb-urned, handsome fellow it was
that had caught her in his arms, and
was bearing her out to tbe back
balcony and the fresh air there, used
itt the course of his whaling voyage,
perhaps, to odors no more belonging
to Araby the Blest than those of
burning brimstone do; and, seeing
the movement, we divined that he
knew as much about the resources of
the house as we did, and so we dis-
creetly withdrew, Israel's head be -
SOW
EREAREAST—EPPSIS GOCOA---GBA.TEFOT,
Ann COMFORTING.—‘ 4 By a thorough
knowledge of the natural laws - which
govern the operations of digestion. and
nutrition, and by a careful appliea..
tion of the fine properties ,of well;
selected cocoa, Mr. Epps has pro-
vide4\our breakfast -tables with a deli-
catelYi flavored beverage which may save
us many doctors' bilis."—Civil Service
Gazette. —Made simply with boiling wa-
ter or milk, Each packet is labelled—
“3-AmEs Es & Co., nonlceopathie
Chemists, London.” Also, makers a
Epps's Milky Cocoa, (Cocoa and Con-
d.eused.
.PECIAL NOTICES.
xte?.. None but the best of material used -
by the Guelph. Sewing Machine Com-
pany in the construction of -their ma-
chines. Try them.
Ica. From increased physical and ment-
al strength of persons who use Fellows'
Compound. Syrup of Ifypophosphites,-
their augmented faculty of endurance
the regular and healthy action of th;
heart, lungs, stomach and bowels, and
their improved appearance, demonstrated
in thousands of cases within out know-
ledge, ifs power of restoring the great
sympathetic and muscular system. on
which full and healthy- developement de
pend is certain.
EVERYBODY -SAYS so.—That is all who
either used the article themselves or
witnessed. itseffects when used by others;
all such, and they are only fit to judge,
are unanimous in the opinion. that
Darley's Condition Powders and Arab-
ian Ileave Remedy is superior to any-
thing of the kind heretofore or at present
itt use for coughs, colds, thick wind, ana
all diseases which affect the wind of
hories. As a condition medicine it has
no equal; there is nothing itt it which
cau injure horses whether sick or well—
nor need the horse be kept from working
while using it; it is just the article
wliich all who own horses require., and_
which they should have constantly on
hand. Remember the name and see that
the signature of klurd & do. is on each
package. Northrop &Lyinan, Newcastle,
Ont., proprietors for Canada. Sold by
all medicine dealers,
Olfir .Coughs and colds, wli en. left to them-
selves, frequently bring on pulmonary
Complaints, which lead to that distress -
hag Ind fatal di ease consumption, but
if attendecl to in tune, Bryan's Pulmonie
Wafers are a certain remedy. They stop
the irritating cough, and soothe and
. .
strengthen the bronchial tubes, allaying
all irritations and inflamation. They are
also particularly adapted for tbe use of
singers and. public speakers. Sold by all
druggists and country dealers. Prize 25
cents per box.
There are several kinds of worms
which trouble horses; the pin -worms
(pointed at both ends) are the most com-
mon and roost 'dangerous. Sheridan's
• Cavalry Condition Powders will in a few
• dayS eject the worms, and the horse will.
begin to thrive.
sgr Factories and machine shops
should not be allowed to run a day
without Johnson's Anodyne Liniment.
In case of a sudden accident, an immedi-
ate use of it may save weeks of suffering,
and perhaps limb, or even life.
Thomas' Eclectric Oil,
WORTLE TES TIKES rre -IVEXGRV IN GOLD. DO Tell
saiow Ala TIM% Or IT? nNOT, IT IS
TOM YOZ
There are but few preparations of medicine
which have withstood the impartial judgment of
the people for any great length of time. One of
these is THO)LAS' ELECTRIC Om, pnrely a prepar-
ation of six of some of the best oils tInKtare known,
each one possessing virtues of its own. Scientific,
physicians know that medicines may be formed of
several ingredients in certain fixed proportions of
greater power, and producing effects which could
never result from the use of any one of them, or in
differentnambinations. Thus in the preparation,
of this oil a, chemical change takes place, forming
a compound Which could not by any possibility be
made from any other combination or proportions
of the same ingredients, or ally other ingredient'',
and entirely different iron anything -ever before
made, ono which produces the mostastonisbing
sults, and having a wider range of application
than any medicine ever before discovered. It con-
tains no alcohol or other "volatile liquids, conse• -
quently loses nothing by evaporation. Wherever
applied you get the benefit'of every drop.; whereas
with other preparations nearly all the alcoholic;
lost itt that way, and you get only the small quan-
tity of oils which they may contain. '
• S. N. THOMAS, PnEL8,NY.
And NORTHROP & LYMAN, Newcastle, Ont.,
Sole Agents for the DOIrkiniOR.
NOTE.--Electiic--Selected and Electrized.
Sold in Seaforth by E. Hickson & Co. and B.
Lumsden. •
The Great Ve+male Remedy.
J.033. ItIOSES' 1>Z1110DXCAT,
TEEM invaluable medicine is unfailhrg 'es
cnre of all those piiinful and dangerous diseaseS
.ihjahthierd:enstituti°1issusbtrieectirQPItroderstcsanexcesandrenaove8alobn4
audaeieea:uremayhereliea0h.
Ihi„graiTtosaahmaietrrytaiithhed dihrihes,gite ins ptheeculimaernlythisnyTetioaltth
sin
These Pills sliould not be taken by FeInAla
during the first three months of Prep:tau, as thei
arilsurtheeyare
eafringeo. ri Miscarriage, but at any other
te
paininsallinetahseesbPaCkNanTlinans basn,afaStigupinealoalegetriglex-
ertion, palpitation of the heart, hysterics, and
mwhieateess, thaheysee pfillans eaw;illaeuffdeetalatheurehge hwhaen pallewoerftherld
raehmythiedyn,gdhoinnottfalcotentamtheirzeohn,etzialtuotmieeal: antbrionh-°C
Full directions in the pamphlet around esoll
package, which should he carefully preservea.
rob Moses, New York, Sole Proprietor. $1.190`004
121 cents for postage'enclosed toNorthop &Ly01514
Nreetwunila.ail.
castl e, Ont., general agents for the Deraant
will insure a bottle, containing over 50 pills II
11-fasoledhrt. E. iSeaforth by Hickson &
1.1.LaraaC0197=1.45
iC Our a
bss so touch
ceutlyr Nvorn out
or etie
,Western, P
..--The only
citizens of Calhou
eying tinware to t
lege dogs. The
trolled that when
ail oyster- ca.
backs up aud
wal
i0 it on.
a.— A inan in B
tits trained his
iete to market f
salt is, that whe
ineengry,,,he picks
and vans -with it t
Expecting a meal
— Blunders a
as for instaace ;
peer woman eem
and still continei
little satisfactory
--That was a
ter in which it w
41 a public brea.kf
members of the E
will be held this
--- They still
will be seen in t
-"One who wish
what he knows.
test way to raise
oprn."
A mammoth
window was labe
; Bred by -nor
vaqua ; Long Joh
hill.''
ttSoraebody wr
Lowell aOuricr,,
thod of preserving
osopher advised
ixTna for pound,
If. Gs' arecipe
Cut in -strips not
-*preld them out o
for three clays, an
vinua.mon, and pa.c
vith sawdust."
—The agrieu
cussing the hes
ing—fortand-aft
free country ev
permitted to en
to the dictates
science.
— A conches
suicide is that
impoliteness to
are sent for.
--The edite
fool as to pub'
made nobody in
ed to abandon
VOW engaged it
labor of peddli
There is stunt
the fellow's e
that every gen
an instinctive
---,It is ba
wife-e—no gen
mornings to bu'
--The folio
Ash atentrzeten
ago. A nuteile
44 the old joke
in this Count
Old John
just died at Bn
was, it is said,
full of anecdote
WAS once arinki
Enid toon of Foi
(A its finality, ti
teer has not
John, won)i
Asie a weak crab.
• —A happe:1
eeriting to t
about his lealt
old, nine inc
two pounds,
its beauty,
nem
— A -voice
ton Terntor
wives 1" and -
-gPmlele " Tak
— A beani
young lady h
in Philadelt
and aecompl
little leathel
xesistilt) y swi
—A fennel
presented Jee
one of hisleT,
unsuspecting
following pal
One r6
Gone
Steppe"
'Cause
Poor li
Smashf
In thy,
Busine4
A Mgai
-The Bra
lengthy a
Young Eng
at the hotel• l
wn, who
fortunate vi
an lament
particulars I
About two
ing his natal
a painter le
Mr. Noble)
ward a yoi
shop where
that shewe
aeknowiede
at Mrs. Brt
apparently,
could wish
noweeee
'They had
lehen his 6,
"jiving in