The Huron News-Record, 1891-09-09, Page 7Emulsion
or
Cod Liver Oil
AND TUC
Sypophosphites of Lime and Soda.
No other Emulsion is so
easy to take.
It does not separate nor
spoil.
It is always sweet as cream.
The most sensitive stomach
can retain it.
CURES
Scrofulous and
Wasting Diseases.
Chronic Cough.
Loss of Appetite.
Mental and Nervous
Prostration.
General Debility, -&c.
Beware of allsimitatious. Ask for
"the D. & L." Ernst..ston, and refuse
all others.
PRICE 50C. AND $1 PER BOTTLE.
The Huron News -Record
$1.50 a Year—$i.••25 in Advance
Wednesday, Sent. 9th, 1891.
BABBETTE.
She put a shawl over her brown
olds and slipped out unobsotvii.i
into the shadowy night.
One would have thought her a
mere child judging from her slight
figure and general appearance ; but
to -night Babbette was eighteen.
They knew it in the great house,
but what cared they for the birth•
day melting into blank night with-
out even a word or token of affec-
tion I
The tears dropped oil' the long
lashes and a bitterness settled over
the white face—so very white now
in the deepening twilight.
If her young heart was breaking
from neglect and want of sympathy,
what difference did it make ; what
difference, indeed I She was only
an orphaned niece, moneyless and
friendless, finding shelter under the
aristocratic rooftree of Uncle Wil
ton, simply because it could not
.v -ells xval-l—be—atheawtise.- I'eop-le-
would have censured, you see.
Cousin Kate and Clara were in
the drawing -room entertaining
friends, and the soft light carne
through the drawn curtains of filmy
lace with a dreamy radiance suiting
well the slow, sleepy music of the
guitar, some one was playing in-
side.
The girl paused to look in at the
cozy enjoyment hungrily. How she
loved music ; hut then she could
not sing. No; the musical veinof
the Wiltons had failed to throb
into her life for some reason.
She couldn't sing, she couldn't
deuce, neither could she appear well
in society ; so Aunt Marie said
"there was no use bothering with
the little, ignorant beggar."
The big tears, hesitating on the
dark lashes, plashed down on the
crimson shawl, and Babbette turned
away with a choking sensation in
her throat.
Out across there, though, where
the lights twinkle through the trees,
lived a dear old friend, the gray-
haired rector. How many happy
hours she had passed in the; pretty
cottage ; the little study with its
modest ingrain carpet and softly -
shaped lamps; with its narrow,
;roan- shutters opening out on a
long, old.fashioned piazza by day,
and closed on the little happy world
at night, was a paradise to the lone-
ly girl.
Doubtless the low rocker in its
snug corner waited her coming to-
night as often before ; and they
wouldn't miss her in there where
the soft, sweet music mellowed the
the air and floated out en her deso-
late night.
merriment within her uncle's- draw-
ing -room she drew the crimson
shawl closely under her dainty chin
and went away in the darkness.
Crossing the lawn and shutting the
wicket gate behind her she ran
swiftly along under the greening
cedars towards the rectory.
'rapping at the study door she
was admitted by the gray-haired
clergyman, as usual, who drew the
familiar rocker forward and, push-
ing his books aside, turned around
fur the talk he know was expected
to be forthcoming.
" Aud tonight I am eighteen,"
said Babbette, letting the shawl
drop from her shoulders with a
weary gesture," and what have 1
accomplished, or where is the pros-
pective niche for Babbette \Viltou?"
Iier fingers clasped and unclasped
themselves in an aimless nervous•
nese, and the choking sensation
welled up•into a sub.
The good old man placed his
trembling hand ou the brown curls.
"Daughter," said he, "be of good
cheer; violets are lowly, but I dare
say the brilliant and stately bins•
souls of the hot -house would not be
missed as much as they."
A atop s •unded in the hull. The
rector looked up. " It is my son,
-Max," he explained. " IIe came
home yesterday ; I didn't tell you,
did I ? Max!" calling, " here is
our little girl whom I have spoken
of so often, come in and see lies."
" 0, 0 my !" and Babbette loosed
distressed as she rose quickly to go.
"Stay. please!" said the old man,
pleadingly. "I do so want you
and Max to bo friends, too."
At that moment the sou came iu
and, seeing 13abbette, came forward
for an introduction. "I am happy
to meet you, Miss Wilton,"
lie said in a clear, sweet tone that
thrilled liar with its earnestness.
"Father has written the so often of
you, and your delightful visits
which brightened the days, u:her-
ivise very lonely fur him."
Babbette fidgeted with the fringes
of her shawl and wondered if col-
lege folks noticed short dresses and
sculled shoos, and what they thought
of "poor beggars who couldn't
appear well."
But the rector's sun clidn't seem
to notice any deficiences in dress or
wanner, and talked of her favorite
books and authors in an easy, chatty
way that made her feel at ease in
spite of her misgivings.
"Would you allow me to walk
home with you," asked Max as
13abbetto rose to go ; " it is quite
dark I"
" I have run across here after
-trightfathrlanela --terufte-n;`-ans veer—
ed she ; " but I might fancy myself
cowardly for once," and, smiling,
she accepted the escort.
"It seems to me we were never
strangers, Miss Wilton, Raid Max
as they walked slowly along under
the gloomy cedars. "Father has
written me so much about you that
I was really anxious nod glad to
get home that I might make your
acquaintance personally."
"It isn't much to know me," re-
joined Babbette, wearily. "I am
such a cipher, and such a miserable,
no -account cipher, too,"
"Please don't say such sad
things," he said in a pained way ;
"try to see the silver lining for
yourself, you find it for others.
Perhaps you are a little despondent
to -night. However, that will wear
away. Let us be friends and cheer
one another up to grand, good pur-
poses in life."
No, there was no room for her
anyway, had she chosen to have re-
mained in doors. Iter place must
be among those in the dreary by-
ways of life!
But the rector, kind old man, was
companionable and a friend. She
would step in and have another of
those long, serious talks she de-
lighted in. Poor man I lie, too,
was alone now, wi,,h none but the
housekeeper to look after him. His
wife slept over there in the church-
yard, and his son—well 1 Babbette
didn't mind of ever seeing him.
He was away to college some
where, but the rector had told her
that he would be at home shortly.
After his coming, of course, Bab -
belle argued, she wouldn't feel as
free to occupy the willow rocker at
the rectory, for—! Well, she was
now eighteen and really a child no
more,- fist" =all 'Aunt"-Miit it itici3rlie'r`.
in ankle dresses and long, childish
curls.
Turning from the music and
"I shall be glad," whispered Bab-
bette, clinging to hie arm in the
darkness.
"Then God has really sent me to
you," he answered, reverently, hold-
ing her hand a moment in parting.
"Have you heard the news?"
asked Uncle Wilton at dinner one
day some weeks later. -
"No, papa," chorused his daugh-
ters ; "pray tell us."
"Well," said he. 'the rector's son
has fallen heir to a mint of money ;
by the death of a relative ho be-
comes sole heir to his property,
worth about a million or so."
"0, my and he is handsome and
a collegiate, too," simpered Kate,
who was fast approaching the old
maid line.
"We must invite him to our
party down the river," put in Clara.
"I'll warrant lie handles the oars
nicely, and, besides, a millionaire
at the Wilton's rowing party would
be quite the thing ; we shall be the
envy of our set."
But Babbette didn't join in the
conversation ; she grew very quiet.
Could it be that Max was really a
millionaire? Would he change in-
to a proud, cold and formal friend
—merely an acquaintance—now
that he was wealthy I
He had so often sought out the
silver lining to her dark cloud of
late that it seemed impossible to
endure a change in him ; his friend-
ship was very precious.
The family knew nothing of her
secret, and went on discussing the
rector's son and his money, not
aware that the girl left her dinner
sub tovelrerl'nw hrrcrept°awaystt5. her
room to think it all over.
Iler cousins had never recognized
their young neighbor before; but
now, because he was fortunate in a
financial sense, they were ready to
inveigle him into oompanidnehip
and—matrimony if they could.
She saw as much iu Kate's blue
eyes at dinner. Would they do it?
Would they take him away from
her I \\yell, it could all easily be ;
she had no claim on him really,
after all.
That evening Babbette walked
slowly up and down under the
darkening cedars, alone; she wanted
to be alone and the gloomy shadows
were fitting the occasion.
But she was not alone; no, some
one was coining. "I am so glad to
find you, Babbette, said the voice
that always thrilled her, "I have
glad news, my little friend."
"I have hoard," answered the
girl, wearily, "You are a wealthy
gentleman now."
"Won't you congratulate one I"
he asked. "Aren't you glad for
Max?"
"Why should i congratulate I"
and her white face was turned to
him in the gloaming. "Why should
I, when it lifts you up so far away
from me?"
"Away from you? Why. Bab -
belle, don't you know me better
than that? It only brings me
nearer to you if—if you will ; it
gives me liberty to tell you solue-
thing very dear to my soul. Can't
you guess, Babbette—love'
Then lie did love her? She open-
ed her lips; but the answer would
not conic).
"I have thought sometimes that
you loved the, dearest ; was I mis-
taken ?"
" No," she whispered ; " how
could I help it?"
"I don't know; I am sure 1 don't
want you to help it," he said with a
low happy laugh.
"Then you will lie my wife, won't
you, Babbette 1"
"0, Max!"
"\Vhy not, if you love rhe, deal -
est ?"
"I can not appear well in society
and—and I sin poor and charity's
child."
"Aro Chose all the reasons why
you cannot be Max Lawler's wife?"
asked he, holding her hand while
he waited for her answer.
"I believe they are," she said,
faintly.
"I brush them aside, then, as I
should cobwebs," he said, drawing
her nearer him. "Will you marry
the, little one I"
"Yes, Max," and the lonely,
friendless orphan crept into the
arms of the millionaire ; he whom
-she—tl-invg rt sh-ut-a-way by A wall of
gold.
At the boating party Max was
the lion of the hour ; but he dis-
gusted Kate Wilton very much by
devoting his attention to little Bab•
bette, "He doesn't know she is as
poor as a church -mouse, in spite of
her good looks," she almost sneered,
to her companion.
"Why do you ignore the pick el
our social circle and take up with
that girl" asked Uncle Wilton,
pompously, as he noticed his own
daughter's wiles prove futile in
ensnaring the young man,
"Because, Uncle Wilton, she is
my wife," answered Max, calmly.
If a thundorboit had at that mo-
ment rent the very heavens the cut -
prise and astonishment could not
have been greater.
. "Do you mean to say that you
are in earnest?" grasped Uncle
Wilton, recovering from his help -
loss wonderment.
"I was never more in earnest,
uncle. Babbette and I were mar-
ried this morning at Grace Street
Chapel, a few friends being present,
while my father was the officiating
clergyman. Will you not congratu-
late us, uncle I"
And in a dazed sort of a way
Egbert Wilton gave them his bless-
ing while the other members of the
party looked on and enjoyed it as a
spice of real romance; all excepting
Katy and her sister.
Piqued and taken aback, the
proud Misses Wilton stood aloof
and looked down on little Babbette
with disdain and withering acorn
She, of all the world, to outstrip
them in the matrimonial race I
And they always tried so hard to
make her keep her place, the un•
grateful little beggar. All their
enjoyment was suddenly annihilated
by that one fell stroke of the hand-
some millionaire.
But they recovered from their
shock, however, as it was policy to
do so, and grew fond of referring to
the happy couple as "our wealthy
cousins now traveling in Europe."
AISOLID KNOCK -DOWN BLOW.
The whale blows water while at play ;
Trees blow in every clime ;
The sweetest flowers blow in May,
But the wind blows ani the time.
There's lots of blowing in this world.
Sufferers from catarrh blow thein noses
and quacks blow their "cures." Dr.
Sage'e Catarrh Remedy is the only infall-
ible obe. Its proprietors back up this
claim by offering $500 far every ease they
fail to cure permanently. This is an un-
answerable blow at humbuggery, coming
from men of a cilia ce-putatlon.. aad
7(m'�(mieV$df5i'W. eealCatarrh cannotre-
silt.the potency of this Remedy. It stops
discharges, leaving the senses acute, the
head clear, and the breath normal. Of
all druggists, 50 cents.
CYNT'HY ANN WOULDN'T
HAVE 1T.
Mr. Slowboy laid down the paper
he had been readiug, cleared his
throat, blew his nose, and otherwise
acted like a man very much aston-
ished at himself because he wanted
to cry. Then he got up and slam-
med on his hat and started down the
street towards home at a prodigious
pace.
'I'll try it,' he muttered to him-
self. 'I'll court Cynthy Ann over
again just the way that man did his
wife in that newspaper. Of caurse
its only a yarn, but a yarn that can
set a 59year-old rhinoceros like me
to gulping over hie Adam's apple,
isn't to be sneezed at. Yes, darn
me, if I don't try it, if it kills me!
We old married men are too indiff-
erent to our wives, and I'll let Cyn -
thy know that I've turned over a
new leaf.'
Full of these extraordinary ideas,
Mr. Slowboy entered his house,
stolesoftly to his room, slicked him -
up a bit, then went in search of his
wife, who was making soap in the
back yard.
'Cynthy, my love,' said he, 'I
fear you are working too hard.'
Mrs. Slowboy surveyed him sus-
piciously. He hadn't said 'my love'
to her before fur about twenty
years.
'Did you fetch that can of lye
from the store?' she asked sharp•
ly.
'Bless me ! I don't see what
made me forget it. Never mind dear
'Don't dear rue ! How did you
expect I was going to, finish this
soap without that lye?'
'I'm a living fool if I know.
I'm awfully sorry, my dear—'
'Look here, Cephas Slowboy, you
turn yourself 'ruued end trot right
back after that lye.'
'All right, my dear. Better let
me kiss you before I go.'
`Can't you see I've got to stir
this s»ap ? Men are such ever-
lasting fools about a kitchen, any-
how.'
Mr. Slowboy concluded to post-
pone the kissing half of the business,
but he still lingered.
`Cynthy, my love,' he began.
'What are you all fixed up for?'
she interrupted. I suppsse you're
going to gad off somewhere and
leave me the chores to do as us-
ual.'
'No, darling wife. I—I—let me
stir the soap awhile.'
'Yes 'rid have it all boil over ! I
wish you'd a -brought that lye along.
Why don't u et_uutl:-WIatawe-
you lollopiu' round here for, and
acting like an antiquated dude I'
'My dearest Cynthy, I wish I
could make you understand—'
'Look here, old man,' broke in
his xife,as she looked at him sharp-
ly. 'What in the world is the
meaning of all this soft talk I
What new dodge aro you up to'
now
'Well, Cynthy, I came to the con-
clusion that I would try to get along
with you in a better way. You see
"Do you mean to say that I am
hard to get along with 1 Why you
impudent—'
No, no, Cynthy. You come all
round being an angel—you know
you do. Still we do quarrel at
times-'
'Who says quarrel? If there's
any quarrelling done—you are the
vary noodle that starts the game.'
Mr. Slowboy breathed very, very
gently through his false teeth.
'But—my dear. You don't seem
to understand—'
'Look here, Cephas Slowboy,
you're drunk—that's what's the mat-
ter with you.'
'It's a blame lie—er—a mistake
I mean. Now, Cynthy, don't give
way to that temper of yours—'
'Who begun this row ?'
Why you, my deer—'
"Tain't so ! You're the very man.'
'No, I'm not.'
I say you are.'
[ say I didn't."
'You did.'
'Didn't.'
'Did.'
'Look here, Cynthy, I wouldn't
intimate that my husband tells lies.
It don't sound well.'
'What did you tell me I lied
for ?'
'I didn't.'
'You did.'
`Didn't.'
'Did.'
`Cynthy Ann, you are an idiot.
There's no more truth about you
than there are feathers on a dog—'
`Well, of all the ungrateful brutes
I ever saw, you are the worst i'
screamed Mrs. Slowboy,now greatly
enraged.
Then, as Mr. Slowboy sew her
seize the soap ladle, and advance
menacingly, a bright idea came to
hitn,, ptt.t iu .time ,to:.p.ae:vent-actual
hostilities and save himself from
scalding.
'Good " gracious, Cynthy, it's a
boilin' over. Look—quick !'
While Cynthy looked, Mr. Slow -
boy suddenly made himself as scarce
in that vicinity as the lye he had
failed to bring home, -
'Darn the women, and the soap,
and the fool ahat wrote that story,'
he growled. 'I wouldn't care if Cyn
thy emptied the whole kettle over
him.'
Then Mr. Slowboy slammed the
door, banged the front gate, and
rushed down town iu nearly as bad
bad a state as the soap he so dexter-
ously dodged. That night he earns
home gloriously drunk, and the
next day was crustier than ever, nor
has he ever monkeyed with the
courting business since.
Yet Mrs. Slowboy has never
forgiven him. Her soap was a fail-
ure.
DAYLIGHT MURDER, AND
ROBBERY OF A BANK.
Columbus Grove, Ohio, Sept.—
This has been the liveliest week in
the history of the village and the
excitement of the town folks is fully
shared by everyone in this section
of the state.
It is occasioned by the bold bank
robbery which occurred last Satur-
day and the deep anxiety on the
part of everyone that the unknown
robber and murder way yet be
caught. Thomas J. Maple, cashier,
opened up fur business as usual at 8
o'clock a. w., and soon Abraham
Siferd, a wellknown farmer drop
ped in, took a chair and sat back
against the wall. He and Maple
engaged in conversation. Presently
Maple opened the vault and took
out a package of bills amounting to
$1,000. IIe had previously laid on
the counter about $500.
At 8:30 a stranger walked iu the
front door carrying in either hand a
revolver. He walked up to within
a few feet of the counter, and with-
out saying a word, aimed cue re-
volver at Cashier Maple and fired.
'1'he ball buried itself in the wall
back of the cashier. Before Maple
could secure his own revolver,
which lay on the counter, the
villain fired again, striking Maple'u
right arm in the fleshy portion
above the elbow. Then he fir3d
again, acid this time the ball hit
Maple in the side and he fell to the
floor in an insensible condition, but
rallied a little and by clinging to a
chair raised himself up and screamed
"Murder i Murder i"
Siferd was paralyzed with fear.
The desperado had shot through the
glass in the counter and broke the
inkstands. He reached through
the broken glass, secured the $1,500,
then coolly turned to Siferd, and
lets.lit�.g re -valvar . atlj�rl, carts-
"If you move a muscle or make any
outcry, I will shoot you full of
Roles." Siferd did not move.
At this junction William Vande-
mark, a well-known farmer, stepped
in the front door. He was coming
to get one of the packages as hich
the cashier had laid out, it being the
amount due on a sale of his hogs.
The desperado hearing footsteps
turned around and shot the new-
comer through the bowels, and he
fell to the floor.
The robber then rushed out on
the street, still carrying the revol-
vers, and flourishing them over his
head threatened to clean out the
whole town. Ho paused half a
minute before Rink's restaurant and
said : "I am Jesse James No. 2,"
and that he would kill everyone in
the town. He then walked to the
southern end of the town climbed
over a fence into a cornfield, and
was lost to sight.
Cashier Maple soon revived and
described the robber and murderer
as about five feet seven inches,
heavy set, with black moustache.
He wore a silk cap, something in
the style of a conductor's cap ; a
black alpaca coat, and light blue
pantaloons with black stripes down
the leg. He is about 36 years of
age and has black, piercing eyes.
A large reward was at once offered
for the arrest of the desperado dead
or alive, but thus far no one has
beten able to capture him.
The funeral of Mr. Vandemark
was one of the largest ever attended
in this section.
Cashier Maple is around again;
and, being left-handed naturally, is
getting along nicely.
Mr. Siferd has recovered from
the shock, and is as well as ever.
—"Pat, Pot, you should never hit
a mon when he is down." "Begobs,
what did.I worruk so hard to git
him down far."
1l0 1 my sister, see the banner
Waving in the sky,
Are you broken-down, discouraged?
Courage! help is nigh.
On that banner read this legend :
"Suffering women hail 1
Pierce's Favorite Prescription
Ne'er was known to tail."
The success of this remedy is wonder?
ful. Its record is unparalleled. It has
cured thousands of cases of female weak-
nesses, irregularities, and all diseases
peculiar to the sex. It can always be de-
pended on to do exactly what is claimed
for it. All the proprietors ask is a trial.
-That' will conyinue•the=-rrmaraakeptidal'et
its wonderful virtues, Price ($1.00) re-
funded if it fails to give satisfaction.
Guarantee printed on every bottle wrap-
per.
•
THE.'B ST
OB
PRINTING
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