ff: “ing" it , ., .
’ ' {0 viii’ch. :Of, course I do, not mean tgliht you
\
. .100};
whom NUMBER" 1573.
The Loves of Alonzo Fitz
Clarence and Rosannah
Ethelton.
I.
It was well along in the forenoon of a bit.
for winter‘s day, The town of Eastport, m
the State of Maine, lay buried under a deep
snow that was newly fallen. The customary
bustle in the streets was wanting. One could
long distances down them and see nothg
' " t a dead~white emptiness, withgisilence
could a. the silence—no, you could only hear
it. The sidewalks were merely long, deep
ditches, with steep snow walls on either side.
llere and there you might hear the faint, far
scrape of a wooden shovel, and if you were
quick enough you might catch a glimpse of a
distant black figure stooping and disappearing
in one of those ditches, and reappearing the
next moment with a motion which you would
know meant the heaving out of a shovelful of
show. But you needed to be quick, for that
. black figure would not linger, but would soon
drop that shovel and send for the house,thrash-
ing itself with its arms to warm them. Yes,
it was too venomously cold for snow shovel-
ers or anybody else to stay out long.
Presently the sky darkened; then the wind
rose and began to blow in fitful, vigorous
gusts which sent. clouds of powdery snow
aloft, and straight ahead, and everywhere.
Under the impulse of one of these gusts,
great white drifts banked themselves like
graves across the streets; a moment later, an-
other gust shifted them around the other way,
driving Ia fine spray of Snow from their sharp
crests, as the gale drives the spume flakes
from wave-crests at sea; a third gust swept
that place as clean as your hand, if it saw fit.
This was fooling, this was play; but each
and all of the gusts dumped some_snow into
the sidewalk ditches, for that was business.
Alonzo Fitz Clarence was sitting in his
snug and elegant little parlor, in a. lovely blue
silk dressing-gown, with cuffs and trimmings
or crimson satin, elaborately quilted. The
remains of his breakfast were before him,and
the dainty and costly little table service ad-
ded a harmonious charm to the grace, beauty
andrichness of the fixed appointments of the
room. A cheery fire was blazing-on the
hearth. _ .
A furious gust of wind shook the windows
and a great wave of snow washed against them
with a drenching sound, so to speak, The
handsome young bachelor murmured—-
“That means no' going out today. Well, I
am content. But what to do for-company?
Mother is well enough, Aunt Susan is well
enough ; but these, like the poor,I have with
me always. On so grim a day as this, one
needs a new interest a fresh element, to whet
the dull edge of captivity. That was very
neatly said, but it doesn’t mean anything.
One doesn’t want the edge of captivity sharp-
ened up, you know, but just the reverse.”
He glanced at his pretty French mantel
clock. . _
“That clock’s wrong again. That clock
hardly ever knows what time it is; and when
it does know it lies about it—which amounts
to the same thing. Alfred!”
There was no answer.
“Alfred ! Good servant, but as
uncertain as the clock. .
Alonzo touched an electrical bell button in
the wall. ‘He waited a moment,then touched .
it again; waited a few moments more, and
said,~
“Battery out of order, no doubt. But now
that I have started, I' will find out what time
it is.” He stepped to a speaking-tube in the
wall, blew its whistle, and called ‘Mother!’
and repeated it twice.
“Well, that’s no use. Mother’s battery is
out of order, too. . Can’t raise anybody down
stairs—that is plain.”
He sat down at a rose-wood desk, leaned
his chin on the left-hand edge of it, and
spoke, as if to the floor: “Aunt Susan!”
A low, pleasant voice answered, “Is that
you, Alonzo '2”
“Yes, I’m too lazy' and comfortable to go
go down-stairs; I am in extremity, and can’t
seem to scare up any help.“
“Dear me, what is the matter 2”
“Matter enough, I can tell you !”
“Oh, don’t keep me in suspense, dear!
what is it 9”
“I want to know what time it is."‘ .
“You abominable boy, what a turn you did
'give me! Is that all ?"
“All,——ou my honor. Calm yourself. Tell
me the time, and receive my blessing."
“Just five minutes after nine. No charge
—-keep your blessing.” I
“Thanks, It wouldn’t have impoverished
’me, aunty,nor so enriched you that you could
live without other means.” He got up, mur-
muring. “Just five minutes after nine,” and
faced his clock. “Ali,” said he; “you are do’
ing better than usual. You are only thirty-
four minutes wrong. Let me see . . .~ let
me see. . Thirty-three and twenty.
one are fifty-four; four times fifty-four are
two hundred and thirty-six. One off, leaves
two hundred and thirty-five. That’s right.”
He turned the hand of his clock forward
till they markmd twenty-five minutes to one,
and said, “Now see if you can’t keep right
for awhile A . . else I’ll raffle you.
He sat down at the desk again, and said,
“Aunt Siisan l" ,
“Redeem”
“Had breakfast?”
“Yes indeed, an hour ago."
“Busy ?”
“No,——except sewing. Why ?”
“Got any company ?”
“No, but I expect some at half-past nine.”
“I wish I did. I’m lonesome. I want to
talk to somebody.”
“Very well, talk to me."
“But this is very private”. I
“Don’t bevafraid,—talk.right along; there
is nobody here but me."
“I hardly know whether to venture or not,
but”—
“But what! Oh, don't: stop there! You
know you can trust me, Alonzo,—you know
you can.”
“I feel it, aunt, but this is very serious. It
affects me deeply,—me, and all the family,—
even the whole community.”
“Oh, AlonZo, tell me! I will never breathe
a word of it. What is it ?"
“Aunt, if I might dare”—
“Oh, please go on!” I love you, and can
feel for you. Tell me all. Confide in me
What is it. ?"
“The weather !" , ‘
"Plague take the weather! I don‘t see how
you-can have the heart to serve me so, Lon."
“There, there, auntie dear. I'm sorry; I
‘am, on my honor. I won’t do it again. Do
you forgive me I?”
“Yes, since you seem so sincere about it,
though I know I oughn’t to. You will fool
me again as soon as I have forgotten this
time.” ,
“No, I won’t, honor bright. But such
weather, oh, such weather! You’ve got to
keep your spirits up artificially. It is snowy,
and blowy, and gusty, and bitter cold! flow
is the weather with you ?”
“Warm and rainy and melancholy. The
mourners go about the streets with their um-
brella‘s running streams from the end of every
whalcbone. There‘s an elevated double pave-
merit of umbrellas stretching down the sides
of the streetsas far as ‘I can see. I’ve got a
fire for cheerfulness, and . the windows open
to keep cool. But it .is vain, it is useless;
nothing comes in but the balmy breath of
December, with its burden of mocking odors
from the flowers that possess the realm out-
side, and rejoice in their lawless profusion
whilst the spirit of man is low, and flaunt
their gaudy splendors in his face whilst his
long ”- '
'he took a seat himself, mentally saying, “Oh,
and more in a tender.. There was agree
-a fine natural taste perfected by culture. Her
The minutes still sped, and still she talked.
soul is clothed in sackcloth and ashes and his
heart breaketh.” '
Alonzo opened his lips to say, “You ought
to print that, and get it framed,” but checked
himself, for he heard his ,aunt speaking to
some one else. He went and stood at the
window and looked cut upon the wintry
prospect. The storm was driving the snow
before it more furiously than ever; window
shutters were slamming and hanging; a for-
lorn dog,.with.‘ bowed head and tail with-
drawn from service, was pressing his quaking
body against a windward wall for shelter and
protection ; a young girl was ploughing knee
deep through the drifts, with her face turned
from the blast, and the cape of her Wateréf
proof blowing straight rearward over her
head. Alonzo shuddered, and said,_'with a
sigh, “Better the slop, and the sultry 'rain,
and "even, the insolent flowers, than this!”
Ile'turned from the window, moved a step,
and stoppedvin a listening attitude. The faint
sweet notes of a familiar song caught his car.
He remained there with his head unconscious-
ly bent forward, drinking in the melody,stir-’
ring neither hand nor foot, hardly breathing.
There was a blemish in the execution of the
song, but to Alonzo it seemed an added charm
instead'of defect. This blemish consisted of
a marked flatting of the third, fourth, fifth,
sixth and seventh notes of the refrain or ch3-
rus of the piece. . When the music ende
Alonzo drew a deep breath, and said, “Ah, I
never heard ‘In the Sweet By and By’ sung
like that before.” '
He stepped quickly to the desk, listened a
moment, and said, in a guarded, confidential
voice, “Aunty, who is this divine singer '2" »
“She is the company.'I was expecting.
Stays with me a month or two. I will intro-
duce you. Miss"—
-“For geodness’ sake wait a moment. Aunt
Susan! You never stop to think what you
are about!”
He flew to his bed-chamber, and returned
in a moment perceptibly changed in his out-’
ward appearance, and remarked snappishly—
“Hang it, she would haveintroduced me to
this angel in that sky-blue dressing gown
with red-hot lappels. Women never think,
when they get a-going.”
,He hastened and stood by the desk, and
said, eagerly, “Now, auuty, I‘ am ready,” and
fell'to smiling and bowing with all the per-
suasiveuess and elegance that were in him.
“Very well. Miss Rosannah Ethelton, let
me introduce to you my favorite nephewflllr.
Alonzo Fitz Clarence. There! You are both
good people, and I like you; so I am going to.
trust you together while I attend to a few
household affairs. Sit down, Rosannah; sit
down, Alonzo, Good-by; I shan’t be gone
A’lonz'o had been bowing and smiling all
the while,and motioning imaginary young la-
dies to sit down in imaginary chairs, but now
this is luck! Let the winds blow now,and the
snow drive, and the heavens frown! Little I
care !”
While these young people chat themselves
into an acquaintanceship, let us take the lib-
erty of inspecting the sweeter andfairer of
the two. She sat alone, at her graceful ease,
in a richly furnished apartment which was
manifestly the private parlor of a refined and
sensible lady, if signs and symbols may go
for anything. -For instance, by slow, com-
fortable chair stood a dainty, top-heavy work
stand, whose summit was a fanciful embroid-
ered shallow basket, with vari-colored crew-
els,.and other strings and odds and ends,pro-
trading from under the gaping lid and hang-
ing down in negligent profusion. On the
floor lay bright shreds of Turkey red, Prus-
sian blue, and kindred fabrics, bits of ribbon,
a. spool or two, a pair of scissors and a roll or
so of tinted silken stuffs. On a. luxurious
sofa, upholstered with some sort of soft Indi-
an goods wrought in black and gold threads
interwebbed with other threads not so pro-
nounced in; color, lay a great square of
coarse, white stufi,upon whose surface a rich
bouquet offlowers was growing, under the
deft cultivation of the crochet needle. The
household cat was asleep on this work of art.
In a bay window stood an easel with annu-
finished picture on it, and a palette and brush-
es on a chair beside- it. There were books
everywhere ; Robertson’s Sermons, Tenny-_
son, Moody and Sankey, Hawthorne, Rab and
his Friends, cook-books, prayer-books, pat-j.
tern-books—and books about all kinds of odi-i
one and exasperating pottery, of courses}.
it
“Oh, thank you! You have to go now,
have you ?” ~
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
'No reply.
“Miss Ethelton !"
“Well f”
“You—you’re there yet, ain‘t you i"
“Yes; but please hurry. What did you
want to say ?" , ;
“Well, I—well, nothing in particular. It’s»
very lonesome here. It‘a'asking a great deal,
I know, but would you mind talking with me
again by and by,——that is,if it will not trouble
'you ’too much i”
’ “I. don’t know—but I'll think about it.
try."
“Oh, thanks! Miss Etheltonf . . . .
Ah me, she’s gone, and here are the black
clouds and the whirling snow and the raging
winds come again! But she said good-by !
She didn’t say good morning, she said good-
by! , . .' . The clock was right, after
all. What a lightning-winged two hours it
was!” - ' I ‘
He sat down, and gazed dreamily into his
fire for a while, then heaved a sigh,and said;
“How wonderful it is! Two little hours
ago I was a free man, and now my heart is in I
San Francisco!”
About that time Rosannah Ethelton, prop-
pcd in the window-scat of her bed-chamber,
book in hand, was gazing vacantly out over
the rainy seat; that washed the Golden Gate,
and whispering to herself, “How different he
is from poor Burley,with his empty head and
his single little antic talent of mimicry. "
II.
Four weeks later, Mr. Sidney Algernon
Burley was entertaining a gay luncheon com-
pany, in a sumptuous dra wing-room on Tele-
graph Hill, with some capital imitations of
‘ the voices and gestures of certain popular ac.
tors and San Franciscan literary people and
Bonanza grandecs. He was eleganty uphols-
tered, and was a handsome fellow, barring a
trifling cast in his eye. He seemed very jo-
vial, but nevertheless be . kept his eye. on the
door with an expectant and uneasy watchful-
ness. By and by a nobby lackey appeared,
and delivered a message to the mistress, who
nodded her‘ head understandiugly. That
seemed to settle the thfng for Mr. Barley;
his vivacity decreased little by little, and a
dejected look began to creep into one of his
eyes and a sinister one into the other.
The rest of the company departed in due
time, leaving-him with the mistress, to whom
he said,—
“There is no longer any question about it;
She avoids me. She continually excuses her-
self. If I could see her, if I could speak to
her only a moment,—but this suspense”—
‘ ‘Perhaps her seeming avoidance is mere ac-
cident, Mr. Burley. Go to the small drawing-
room up stairs and amuse yourself a moment,
I will dispatch a household order that is on
my mind, and then 'I will go to her room.
Without doubt she will be persuaded to see
you.”
‘ Mr. Burley Went up stairs, intending to go
to the small drawing-room,but as he was pass-
ing “Aunt Susan’s” private parlor, the door
of which stood slightly ajar, he heard a joy-
ous‘laugh which he recognized; so without
knock or announcement he stepped confident-
ly in. But before he could make his pres-
ence known he heard .words that burrowed
up his soul and chilled his young blood. He
heard a voice say,—
“Darling, it has come !" ‘
Then he heard Rosannah Ethelton, whose
back was turned towards him, say,—
“So has yours, dearest 1”
He saw her bowed form bend lower; he
heard her kiss something,—not merely once,
but again and again! His soul raged within
him. The heart-breaking conversation went
on :—
“Rcsannah, I knew you mustbe beautiful,
but this is dazzling, this is blinding, this is in-
toxicatin g !”
“Alonzo, it is such happiness to hear you
say; it. I know it is not true, but I am so
gr’ateful to have you think it is, nevertheless!
"I knew you must have a noble face, but the
grace and fimajesty of the reality beggar the
poor creation of my fancy.”,
Burley heard that rattling shower of kisses
again. ’
“Thank you, my Rosannahl The photo-
graph flatters me, but you must not allow
yourself to think of that. Sweetheart ?"
There was a piano, with a deck-load of music;
plenty of pictures on the walls,ou the shelves!
of the mantel-piece, 3nd around generally;
“Yes, Alonzo."
“I am so happy, Rosanna, .”
“Oh, Alonzo, none that have gone before
knew what love‘was, none that come after
where eoignes of vantage offered were statu-
ettes, and quaint and pretty gimcracks, an :7
domestic flowers and flowering shrubs.
offer for contemplation; delicately chisel; .;
features of Grecian cast; her complexion th__
pure snow of a ijaponica that is receiving a -
faint reflected enrichment from some scarlet
neighbor of the garden; great, soft blue
eyes fringed with long, curving lashes; an
expression made up of the trustfulness of a
child and the gentleness of a fawn; a beauti-
ful head crowned with its own prodigal gold;
9. lithe and rounded figure, whose every atti-
tude and movement were instinct with an.
tive grace. / . I
Her dress and adornment were marked by
that exquisite harmony that can come only of
gown was of a simple magenta tulle, cut bias,
traversed by three rowsof light blue flounces,
with the sclvage edges turned up with ashes of;
roses chenille; overdress of dark bay tarleton.
with scarlet satin lambrequins; corn-colored
polonaise, en pam‘er, looped with mother-of-
pearl buttons and silver cord, and hauled aft,
and made fast by bqu velvet lashings ; basque
of lavender reps, picked outwith valencien-
nes; low neck, short sleeves; maroon velvet
neck-tie edged with delicate pink silk; inside
handkerchief of some simple three-ply ingrain
fabric of a soft, saffron tint; coral bracelets
and locket chain; coiffurc of forget me-nots
and lilies of the valley massed around a noble
calla.
This was all; yet even in this subdued at-
tire shc was divinely beautiful. Then. what
must she have been when adorned for the
festival or the ball. \ ‘
All this time she has been busily chatting
with AlouzoLunconscious of our inspection.
But by and by she happened to look up and
saw the clock. A crimson blush sent its rich
flood through her cheeks, and she exclaimed:
“There, good-by,Mr. Fitz Clarence ; I must
go now !” '
She sprang from her chair with such haste
that she hardly heard the young man’s an-,
swering good-by. She stood radiant, grace-
fnl, beautiful, and, gazed, wondering, upon
the accusing clack. ' Presently her pouting
lips parted, and she said,:—
“Five minutes after eleven ! :Nearly two
hours, and it did not seem twenty minutes!
Oh dear, what will he think of me !”
‘ At the self-same moment Alonzo was star-
ing at his clock. And presently he said,—
“Twenty-five minutes to three ! Nearly two
hours, and I didn’t believe it was two minutes!
Is it possible that this clock is humbugging
again ? Miss Etheltonl Just one moment,
please. Are you there yet ?"
“Yes, but be quick; ‘I'm going’rightaway."
“Would you be so kind as to tell me what
time it is?” ' . l
. The girl blushed again, murmured to her'
self. “Its's right down cruel of him to ask
me !"Iand then spoke up and answered with
admirably counterfeited unconcern, “Five
minutes after nine." '
me will ever know what happinesss is. 1
float in a gorgeous cloudland, a boundless fir-
bmamcnt of enchanted and bewildering ecsta-
‘ H
.. y.
‘ “Oh, my Rosannah !——for you are mine,are
a garden that was ablaze With foreign an 3.0“ not 1’”
“Wholly, oh, wholly youis, Alonzo, new
land forever! All day long, and all through
my nightly dreams, one song sings itself, and
its sweet burden is, ‘Alonzo Fitz Clarence,
Alonzo Fitz Clarence, Eastport, State of
Maine!”
“Curse him, I’ve got his address, anywayl”
roared Burley, inwardly, and rushed fromthe
place.
Just behind the unconscious Alonzo stood
his mother, a picture of astonishment. She
was so muffled from head to heel in furs that
nothing of herself was visible but her eyes
and nose. She was a good allegory of, win-
ter, for she was powdered all over with snow.
Behind the unconscious Rosannah stood
“Aunt Susan,” another picture of astonish-
ment. She was a good allegory of summer,
for she was lightly clad, and was vigorously
cooling the perspiration on her face with a
fan.
Both of these women had tears of joy in
their eyes. '
“So ho!” exolaimed Mrs. Fitz Clarence,
“This explains why nobody has been able to
drag you out of your room for six weeks,
Alonzo !” , '
“So he!” exclaimed Aunt Susan, “this ex-v,
plains why you have been a hermit for the
past six weeks, Rosath !" -
The young couple were on their feet in an
instant, abashed, and standing like detected
dealers in stolen goods awaiting Judge Lynch’s
doom. .
“Bless you my son! I am happy in your
happiness. Come to your mother’s arms,
Alonzo !” ’ .
“Bless you, ‘Rosanna,for my dear nephew’s
sake! Come to my arms!”
Then there was a mingling of hearts and of
tears of -rejoicing on Telegraph hill and in
Eastport Square.
Servants were called by the elders, in both
places. Unto one was given the order, “Pile
this fire high with hickory wood, and bring
me a roasting-hot lemonade.”
Unto the other was given, the order, “Put
out this fire, and bring me two palm-leaf fans
and a pitcher of ice-water.”
Then the young people were dismissed,and
the elders 'sat down to talk the sweet surprise
over and make the wedding plans.
Some minutes before 'thisMr. Burley rushed
from the mansion on Telegraph Hill without’
meeting or taking formal leave 'of anybody.
He hissed through his teeth, in unconscious
imitation of apopular favorite in melodrama,
“Him shall she never wed! I have sworn it!
‘Ere great Nature shall have defied her win-
ters's ermine to don the emerald gauds of
spring, she shall bcmlne !"
III.
Two weeks later. Every few hours, during
some three or four-days, a very prim and de.
vout-looking Episcopal clergyman,with a cast
in his eye, had visited Alonzo. According to-
his card,he was the Rev. Melton Hargrave,of
Cincinnati. He said he had retired from the
ministry on account of his health. If he had
said on account of ill-health, he would prob-
ably have erred, to judge by his wholescme
looks and firm build. He was the inventor of
an improvement in telephones, and hoped to
make his bread by selling the privilege ', of
using it. “At present,” he continued, “a man
may go and tap a telegraph wire which is con-
veying a song or a concert from one State to
another, and he can attach his private tele-
phone and steal a hearing of that music as it
passes along. My invention will stop all
that.” ._ ‘
“Well,” answered Alonzo,“If the owner of,
the music could not miss what was stolen,wliji
Iv should he care ?”
I’ll r
“He shouldn’t care,” said the Reverend.
"Well 1’” said Alonzo, inquiringly.
“Suppose,” replied the Reverend, "suppose
that, instead of music that was passing along
and being stolen, the burden of the wire was
'loviug endearments of the most private and
sacred nature ?"
Alonzo shuddered from head to heel. “Sir,
it is a priceless invention,” said he; “I must
have it at any cost.” _
But the ' invention was delayed somewhere
on the road from Cincinnati, most unaccount-
ably. The impatient Alonzo could hardly
wait. . The thought of Rosannah’s sweet
words being shared with him by some ribald
thief, was gelling to him. The Reverend
came frequently and lamented thedelay, and
told of measures he had taken to hurry up
things. This was some little. comfort= to '
Alonzo. ' .
One forenoon the Reverend ascended the
stairs and knocked at Alonzo's door. There
was no response. ‘He entered, glanced eagerly
around, closed the door softly, then ran to the
telephone. The exquisitely soft, remote
strains of the “Sweet By and By” came float-
ing through the instrument. The singer was
flatting, as usual, the five notes that follow
the first two in the chorus, when the Rever-
end interrupted her with Ithis word, in a voice
which was an exact imitation of Alonzo’s,
with just the faintest flavor of impatience,
added,—
“S weetheart ?"
“Yes, Alonzo P”
“Please don’t sing that any more this week,
—try something modern.”
The agile step that goes with a happy heart
was heard on the stairs, and the Reverend.
smiling diabolically, sought sudden refuge
behind the heavy folds of the velvet window
curtains. Alonzo entered and flew to thc‘tel-
ephone. . Said he,—
“Rosannah, dear, shall we sing something
together ?” ‘
“Something modern .-’" asked she, with sar-
castic bitterness.
, “Yes, if you prefer.”
“Sing it yourself, if you like ‘3"
This snappishness amazed and wounded
the young man. He said,—
“Rosannah, that was not like you.”
“I suppose it becomes me as much as your
very polite speech became you, Mr. Fitz Clar-
ence.”
“Mister Fitz Clarence 2 Rosannab,there was
nothing impolite about my speech.”
“Ob, indeed! Of course, then, I misunder-
stood you, and I most humbly beg your par-
don, ha-ha-ha! No doubt you said, ‘Don’t
sing it any more to-clay.’ "
“Sing what any mare to-day ?”
“The song you mentioned, of course. How
very obtuse we are, all of a sudden !"
“I never mentioned any song.”
“Oh, you didn’t I”
“No, I didn’t! ”
“I am compelled to remark that you did."
“And I am obliged to reiterate that I
didn’t I” -
“A second rudeness! That is sufficient, sir,
I will never forgive you. All is over between
us.” .
Then came a mufiied sound of crying. Al—
onzo hastened to say,—
“Oh, Rosannah, unsay those words! There
is some dreadful mystery here, some hideous
mistake. I am utterly earnest and sincere
when I say I never said anything about any
song. I would not hurt you for the whole
world. . . Rosannah, dear? Oh,
speak to me, won’t you ?”
There was a pause; then Alonzo heard the
girl’s sobbings retreating, and knew she had
gone from the telephone. He rose with a
heavy sigh and hastened from the room, say.
ing to himself, “I will 'ransack the charity
missions and the haunts of the poor for my
mother. She will persuade her that I never
meant to wound her.”
A minute later, the Reverend was crouch-
ing over the telephone like a cat that know-
eth the ways of the prey; He had not very
many minutes to wait. A soft, repentant
voice, tremulous with tears, said,—
“Alonzo, dear, I have been wrong. You
could not have said so cruel a thing. It must
have been some one who imitated your voice
in malice or in jest."
TlieReverend coldly answered, in Alonzo’s
tones,———
“You have said all was over between us.
So let it be. I spurn your proffered repent-
ance, and despise it !”
Then he departed, radiant with fiendish
triumph, to return no more with his imagina-
ry telephonic invention forever.
Four hours afterwards, Alonzo arrived with
his mother from her favorite haunts of pover-
ty and vice. They summoned the San Fran-
cisco household; but there-was no reply. They
waited, and continued ‘to wait upon a voice-
less telephone. '
At length when it was sunset in San Fran-
cisco, and three hears and a half after dark
in Eastport, an answer came to the oft-repeat-
ed cry of “Rosannah l” -
But, alas, it was Aunt Susan’s voice that
spake. She said,—— .
“I have been out all day; just got in. I
will go and find her.” » .
The watchers waited two minutes—five
minutes—ten minutes. Then came these fa-
tal .words, in afrightened tone,—
“She is gone,and her baggage with her. To
visit another friend, she told the servants.
But I found, this note on the table in her room.
Listen: ‘I am gone; seek not to trace me out;
my heart is broken; you will never see me
more. Tell him I shall always think of him
when I sing my, poor Sweet By and By, but'
never of the unkind words he said about it.’
That is her note. "Alonzo, Alonzo, what
does it mean ? What has happened P”
But Alonzo sat white and cold as the dead. . '
His mother threw back the velvet curtains
and opened the window. The cold air refresh-
ed the sufferer, and he told his aunt his dis-,-
mat story. Meantime his mother was inspect-
ing a card which had disclosed itself upon-
the floor when she cast the curtains back. It
read, “Mr. Sidney Algernon Burley, San ,
Francisco.”
.“The miscreaut !” shouted< Alonzo, and
rushed forth to seek the false Reverend and
destroy him; for the card explained every-
thing, since in the course of the 'lovers’ inu-
tual confessions they had told'each other all
about all the sweethearts they had: ever had,
‘ and thrown no end of mud at their failings
and foibles—for lovers always do that. It
has a fascination that ranks next after bill-
ing and cooing.
IV
During the next two months, many things
happened. It had early transpired that R04
sannah, poor suffering orphan, had. neither
returned to her grandmother in Portland,
Oregon, nor sent any word to her save a du-
plicate of the woeful note she had left in the
mansion on Telegraph Hill. Whosoever was
sheltering her—if she,‘_was still alive—had
been persuaded not to betray her where-
abouts, without doubt; for all efforts to find-
trace of her had failed. ' .
Did AlonZO give her up? Not be. II
said to himself, “She will sing that sweet
' out upon a beautiful scene.
song ‘When she is sad; I shall find her.”
So he took his carpet sack anJ a portable
telephone, and shook the snow of his native
city from. his arctics, and went forth into the
world. He wandered far'an'd wide and in
many states. Time and again, strangers
were astounded to see a wasted, pale and
woe-worn man laborously climb a telegraph
pole in wintry and lonely places, perch sadly
there an hour, with his car at a little box,
then come sighing down, and wander wearily
away. Sometimes they shot at him, as pea—
pants (10 at aeronauts, thinking him mad and
his persOn was grievously’laccrated. But he
ib‘ore it all patiently.
lnIthc beginning. of his pilgrimage he used
often to say, “Ah, if I could but have the
Sweet By and By 1” But toward the end of
it he used to shed tears of anguish and say,
"Ali, if I could hear something else!”
Thus a month and three weeks drifted by,
and at last some humane people seized him
and confined him in a private mad-house in
New York. He made no mean, for his
strength was all gone, and with it all heart
and all hope. The superintendent, in pity,
gave up his own comfortable parlor and bed-
chamber to him and nursed him with affec-
tionate devotion. .
At the end of a we k the patient was able
to leave his bed for it“; first time. He was
lying, comfortably pillowed, en a sofa listen-
ing toIthc plaintive Miscrcre _ of gthc bleak
March .winds, and the muffled sound of
tramping :fect in the street below,-—f0r it
was about six in the evening, and New
York was going home from work. He had
a bright fire and this added cheer of a couple
of student lamps. So it was warm and sung
within, though bleak and raw without; it
was light and bright within, though outside
it was as dark and dreary as if the world had
been lit with Hartford gas. Alonzo smiled
feebly to think how his loving vagaries had
made him a maniac in the eyes of the world,
and proceeding to pursue his line further,
when a faint, sweet strain, the very ghost of
sound, so remote and attenuated it seemed,
struck upon his ear. His pulse stood still,
he listened with parted lips and hated breath.
The song flowed on,—-hc waiting listening,
rising and unconsciously from his recumben
position. At last he exclaimed,—
“It is; it is she! Oh, the divine flatted
notes !” -
He dragged himself eagerly to the corner
whence the sound proceeded, tore aside it our-
tain, anddiscovercd a telephone. He bent
over, and as the last note died away he burst
forth with the exclamation,—
“.Oh thank heaven, found at last! Speak
to me Rosannah, dearest! The cruel mys-
tery has been unraveled; it was that villian
Burley who mimickedmy voice and wounded
you with insolent speech 1” .
There was a breathless pause a waiting age
to Alonzo; then a faint sound came, framing
itself into language,—
“Oh, say those precious words
Alonzo!”
“They are the truth, the veritable truthy
my Rosannah, and you shall have the proof,
ample and abundant proof !”
“Oh, Alonzo, stay by me! Leave me not
for a moment! Let me feel that you are
near me! .Tell me that we never shall be
parted more! Oh this happy hour, this
blessed hour, this memorable hour!”
“We will make record of it my Rosannah;
every year, as this dear hour chimes from
the clock, we will celebrate it with thanks-
givings, all the year of our life.”
“We will, we will, Alonzo 1”
“Four minutes after six, in the evening
my Rosannah shall henceforth”—
“Twenty-three minutes after twelve, after-
noon shall"-—— - - ' .
“Why, Rosannali, darling, where are you?”
“In. Honolulu, Sandwich Islands. And
where are you? Stay by me: do not leave
for a moment. I cannot hear it. Are you
at home ?"
“No, dear I am in New York,-—a patient
in the doctor’s hands.”
An agonizing shriek came buzzing to
Alonzo's car, like a sharp buzzing of a hurt
gnat; it lost power in traveling five thousand
miles. Alonzo hastened to say.”
“Calm yourself, my child. It is nothing.
Already I am getting well under the sweet
healing of your presence. Rosannah ?”
_ “Yes, Alonzo? Oh 110w you terrified me!
Say on.” -
“Name the happy day, Rosannah ?”
There was a little pause. Then a diff!-
dcnt smtdl voice replied. “I blush—but it is
again
with pleasure it is with happiness. Would—
would' you like to have it soon ?”
“This very night, Rosannah ! Oh, let us
risk no more delays. Let it be now l—this
very night, this very moment 1”
“Oh, you impatient creature ! I have no.
body here but my good old uncle, a mis-
sionary for a generation, and now retired
from service,—-nobody but him and his wife.
I would so dearlyplike it if your mother and
your aunt Susan”--
“Our mother and our aunt Susan, my R0-
sannah.” .
“Yes our mother and our aunt Susan,—-I
am content to word it so if it pleases you ; I
would so like to have them present.”
. “So would I.‘ Suppose you telegraph aunt
Susan. How. long would it take her to come ?”
"The, steamer leaves San Francisco day
after'to marrow. The passage is eight days.
She would be here the 31st of March.”
“Then name the 13!; 'of April; do Rosannah,
dear." . '
“Mercy, it would make us Aprif fools,.
‘ in the sand: handfuls of diamonds for the
Alonzo !” . . '
“So we be the happiest ones that that day’s
sun looks down upon in the whole broad ex-
panse of the globe, why need we care! Call
it the 13!; of April, dear.
“Then the 1st ongpril it shall be with all
my "heart!” * ‘
“Oh happiness! Name the hour, to‘o,
Rosannah." \ \
“I like the morning, it is so blithe.
eight in the morning 'do, Alonzo !” '
“The loveliest hour in the day,—since it
will makeyou mine."
There was a feeble but frantic sound for
some little time, as if wool-lipped, disembod-
ied spirits were exchanging kisses: then
Rosanuah said, “Excuse me just a moment,
dear; I have an appointment, and in called
to mgct—it?’
The young girl sought a large‘parlor and
took her place at a window which looked
To. the left one
could view the charming Nuuana Valley,
fringed with its ruddy flush of tropical
flower, and its plumed and graceful cocoa
palms; its rising foothills clothed in the shin-
ing green lemon, citron, and orange groves;
its storied precipice beyond, where the first
Kamehameha drove his defeated foes over to
their destruction—a 'spot that has forgotten
its grim history, no 'doubt, for now .it was
smiling, as almost always at noonday, under
the glowing arches of a' succession of rain-
bows. In front of the window one could see
the quaint town, and here and there a pic-
turesqe group of dusky natives, enjoying
the blistering weather; and far to the right
lay the restless ocean, tossing its white mane
in the sunshine. ,
Rosannah stood there, in her filmy white
raiment, fanning, her flushed and heated face
waiting. A Kanaka boy, clothed in a dam-
aged blue neck tie and part of a silk hat,
thrust his head iuZat the door, and announced,
“’Frisco hoale.” .v ..
“Show him in,’-’ said the girl, straightening
herself up and assuming a meaning dignity.
Mr. Sidney Algernon Barley entered, clad
from head to heel in dazzling snow,—that is
to say, in the lightest and 'whitest of Irish
linen. He moved eagerly forward, but the
girl made a. gesture! and gave him a 'look
Will
NORWALK, CONNECTICUT, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 26;.119878. .
' NORWAhK GAZETTE, ,
which checked him suddenly. She said,
coldly, “I am here, as I promised. I believ-
ed your nssertions, yielded to your impor-
tunities, and said I' would nan'i‘ethc' day. I
name the 1st of April—eight in the morning.
Now go !,’ ‘
“Oh, my dearest, if the gratitude of a life-
timc"—- I
“Not a word, Spare me on sight of you, ‘ '
all communication with you,"unt'll‘the hour.
No-no supplications; Iwill‘lia‘ve it so.”
When he was gone, she sank exhausted in
a chair, for the long siege of troubles she had
undergone had wasted her strength. Present-
ly she said “What a narrow escape? If the
hour appointed had been an hour earlier—Oh
horror, what an escape I have made? And
to think I had come to imagine I was loving
this beguiling, this truthless, this treacherous
monster! Oh, he shall repent his villainy!”
Let us now draw this history to a close,
for little more needs to be told. On the 2d
of the ensuing April, the Honolulu Adver-
tiser contained this notice: "
Manama—In this city, by telephone, yes-
terday morning, at eight o‘clock, by the Rev.
Nathan Hays, assisted by the Rev. Nathaniel
Davrs, of New York, Mr. Alonzo Fitz Clar-
ence, of Eastport, Maine, U. 8., and Miss
Rosanuah Ethelton of Portland, Oregon. U.
S. IMrs. Susan Howland, of San Francisco
a friend of the bride, was present, the being
the guest of the Rev. Mr. Ha sand wife,
uncle and aunt of the bride. 1! r. Sidney Al-
gernon Burley,‘ of San Francisco, was also
present, but did not remain till the conclus-
ion of the marriage service. Captain Haw-
thorne’s beautiful yacht, tastefully decorated,
was in waiting, and the happy bride audher
friends immediately departed on a bridal trip
to Lahaina and Haleakala.
The New York papers of the same date
contained this notice :—
MARRIED—ID. this city, yesterday, by tele-
phone, at half-past two in the morning, by
the Rev. Nathaniel Davis, assisted by the
Rev. Nathan Hays, of Honolulu, Mr. Alonzo
Fitz Clarence, of Eastport, Maine, and Miss
Rosannah Ethelton, of Portland, Oregon.
The parents and several friends of the bride-
groom were present, and enjoyed a sumptu-
ous breakfast and much festivity until nearly
sunrise, and then departed on a bridal trip to
the Aquarium, the bridegroom’s state of
health not admitting of a more extended
journey. ,
Toward the close of that memorable day,
Mr. and Mrs. Alonzo Fitz Clarence were bur-
ied in sweet converse concerning the pleas-
Iures of their several bridal tours, when sud-
denly the young wife exclaimed :—“0, Lou-
ny, I forgot ! I did what I said I would.”
“Did you, dear P”
“Indeed I did. I made him the April fool.
And I told him so, too! Ah, it was a charm-
ing surprise! There he stood, sweltering in a
black suit, with the mercury leaking out of
the top of. the thermometer, waiting to be
married. You should have seen the look he
gave when I whispered in his ear! Ah, his
wickedness cost me many a heartache and
many a tear, but the score was all squared up
then. So the vengeful feeling went right out
of my heart, and I begged him to stay, and
said I forgave him everything. But he
wouldn't. He said he would live to be aveng-
ed; said he would (make our lives a curse to
us. But he can’t, can he dear ?”
“N over in this world, my Rosanuah ?”
Aunt Susan, the Oregonian grandmother,
and the young couple and their Eastport pa-
rents are all happy at this writing, and likely
to remain so. Aunt Susan brought the bride
from the Islands, accompanied her across our
continent,and had the happiness of witnessing
the rapturous meeting of an adoring husband
and wife who had never seen each other until
that moment.
A word aboat the wretched Barley, whose
wicked machinations cnmc so near wrecking
the hearts and lives of our poor young friends,
“will be sufficient. In a murderousattempt to
seize a crippled and helpless artisan who he
fancied had done him some small offense, he
fell into a cauldron of boiling oil and expired
before he could be cxtinguislicd.- -.l[ar/‘c
Twain in March Atlantic. ,
Pliosphoresccnt Splendor-s.
From the Tedeso Rocks on the outer point
at Swampscott, Mass, last night,therc was an
awful sublimity. A heavy surf during the
day had been rolling in upon the beach, and
breaking with magnificent effect upon the
rocks, while the broad expanse of the ocean
was white with foam of a million caps
which wei'e'dashed into spray by the gale.
As night came on and deepened, the won-
derful phosphorescent light, far more bril-
liant than anything over soon upon our shores,
was displayed in a pageant of indescribable
beauty. As far as the eye could reach along
this rocky coast, the breaking surf was
turned to molten silver, and then to deepest
emerald, and then to the minute sparkling
fires one sees flashing from a coronal; of dia
monds in artificial light. It was a sea of
glittering gems. The crest of every wave
was aline of massive silver, and the seething
waters changing from palest blue to most
brilliant green, emitted alight which gleam-
ed upon rock and grass, and was reflected
upon the cloud above.
At midnight, at the full tide, the splendor
of the scene was beyond words. Wave after
wave broke upon the line of rocks, showing
a wall of colored fires, forty, and at times
fifty, feet in height. The ocean seemed
afiame.. The crest of every‘wave was a cor-
ruscation of gems sparkling with more than
rainbow hues. The intensity of color, all
luminous with phosphorescent fire, was far
more wonderful then that produced by any
mechanical chemistry. Footprints of silver
grasping,——and although so fleeting, they
will remains. possession forever. Standing
thus in the darkness and loneliness of mid-
night, at the edge of the vast, turbulent
ocean of light, with the gleaming splendor of
advancing and retreating waves, the vision of
the apocalypse was for the time made real.
In imagination it was acity garnished with
all manner of precious stones, jasper and
emerald and 'chrysolite, and the streets were
of pure silver, as it were, transparent glass.
“And I saw no temple therein, for the Lord
God Almighty was the temple there, of it.
And the city Had no needof sun, neither of
the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God
did lighten it.” It was an experience of
a life-time. After wide travel over the globe,
. and with» many opportunities of viewing
phenomena and the wonderful works of
God, I have never seen anything to parallel
the phosphorescent splendors'which for hours
were flashing to us out of darkness—Boston
Transcript. 1‘
James Beardsley offers the city of Bridge-
port, as a gift, a tract of land, containing
about one hundred and twenty acres, situated
on the east side of what is‘ known as Bun-
nell’s pond, at North Bridgeport, to be ini-
proved, used and kept for a public park. The
land is outside of the city limits.
-_—
~ Little words, not eloquent speeches or ser-
mons; little deeds, not. miracles nor battles,
nor one great heroic act or mighty martydom,
make up the true Christian life. The little
constant sunbeams, not the lightning: the
waters of Siloam, “that go softly” in their
meek mission of refreshment, not the waters
of “the river great and .inighty," rushing
down in torrent noise and force, are the true
symbols of a holy life,-.I-Bomtr
The latest wrinkle-in advertisingis an Eng-
lish institution:—“The Continental Advertis-
ing Refreshment Plate Company.” The
dishes, emblazoned with advertisements, are
to be extensively distributed among the
European hotels and restaurants, and the cost
for each advertisement will be about four
cents per plate.
“ i“ one year—with paper - - - 15 00‘
.TWO [6 H I‘ 1‘ H - - . 250°
“rec‘d be I“ ‘6 H - . _ - 8000
Quarter of aColumn, one time, - - - - - 5 00
Oncquarter column, one year, - - . - - 50 00
Onehalf Column, one time, - - - - - lo 00
One half Column‘,'o'n'e 'Ycar, ------ 80 00
FullColumn, one time, - ------- 20 00
FullColumn, one year, ------- 15600
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
' PUBLISHED rvm‘rnr'snr tritium.f
The second. Olden Paper In Ifioltdtti.
OFFICE. IN (142$ TIE B UILDING .
IA. H. BYINGTON & CO.
A. H. vaerox, ‘ J. B. Ems, G. N. Ears.
Subscription $2.00 per year, in advan9°ill I
Sing!“ Copies 5 Cents.
-—-+——'
Advertising Rates :
Fourlines or loss, 1 insertion 50 cts.; 3 times It 00
One Square, one insertion, ------- 1 00
Per Week, for continuance, ------- 50
0ndeuare,SixMonths, - *- ~ - - '- - - 700-
One inch space constitutes a square.
Special N ollccs 25__p_er cent. advance onthc
above.
Local Notices lii Beading Columns, 25
Cent- per line.
Yearly advertisers restricted to the business
contemplated at the time of contract, but are per-
mitted to make monthly on rages of their adver-
tisements. -
Marriages and deaths inserted gratuitously.
Obituary or Funeral N oticcs 15 cts. per line.
All unusual cuts and devices 25 per cent. extra.
ALEX. S. GIBSON,
Organist of the First Congregational Church .
Teacher of
Plano-Forte, Organ and Musical
Composition.
Box 379 P. 0., NORWALK, CONN.
John 'E. Bodwell
EXPRESS MESSENGER
AND
PUBEHASIH' AGENT.
. H.M.&c.s.ruowrrcrvs Norwalk.
”mes‘i H. E. BODWELL'S. So. Noi-walk. 48“
J. Belden Hurlbutt,
Room No. 4, [up entry]
GAZETTE BUILDING.
EMILY V.D.PARDEE,M.D.,
(Graduate of N. Y. Medical College for Women,
Cor. MAIN d: MARSHALL STREETS,
SOUTH NOR‘VALK, CONN.
Ofilce Hours,until9 a. m.,andtrom3 p.m. At-
tention to all classes ofIdiseasesiucidcnt to a gen-
eral practice of medicine and surgery. Fam-
ilies supplied with Homeopathic remedies. -
References by permission :—S.Lilenthal, M. 1).,
Prof. of‘Theoryand Practice,N. Y.city ; Clemence
Lozier, M. D. Dean of Collc e,N.Y.: Alfred K.
Hrlls.M.D.,Prof.MateriaMe Iica. 3m23
CHARLES W. MANY,
Surgeon Dentist,
nonwxnx, coNN.
Ofiice corner ofIMain and Wall Streets. Nitrous-
Oxidc Gas administered.
0. B. eoouncn,
DENTIST.
Successor to
Dr. Asa. Hill,
WALL STREET, NORWALK,
Oillce over
C. J. Grumnu’s Dry Good- Store.
9' Gas administered for extractingteeth with-
out pain . .
DENTISTRY
A T 11.4121) TIMES PRICES,
For Cash - No Credit :
All work excutcd in the Best Manner, at my office
Corner of Main and Washington Streets,
SOUTII NORWALK, CONN.
T. E. SWIFT, 1). D. s.
S .2 \V. MITCHELL,
C
At the ever popular
UNION MARKET
has always the best of
Beef, Veal, Mutton, and Pork,
at tairlivingprices. Union (formerly Model) Mu;-
ket, on the Bridge. 18
, IIAKLES S. LOCK‘VOOD,
Fashionable Draper and Tailor!
AND
GENTS’ FURNISHING EMPORIUM.
Main Street,Norwalk, Conn.
ED‘VARD P o WEED,
D R U G- G I S '1'
Wall Street,oppositc Norwalk Opera House.
A large and well selected stock of
DRUGS AND MEDICINES,
Pcrfumer ,Patent Medicines, all kinds Mineral
Waters. oilet and Medicated Soaps, Flavoring
and HandkerchiefExtracss, HairBrushes,Combs,
Sponges, Chamois Skins, Stationery. Cigars, ac"
and is constantly adding to his stock all the new
and popular medicines of'the day.
NORWALK INSURANCE 00.,
NORIVALK, CONN.
Charter Capllal - - - $500,000
Paid up Capital -- - - 100,000
Wx. C.Snnnn'r, Pres...» Gno R. Cowr,Es,See'y.
'1'.“ INSUIIANCE Co. ornnnrronn.
Incorporated 1812. '
Capital and Assets, $8,716,893.17
Insures against loss and damage by Fir-emu terms
adopted to the hazard andconsistcnt with the laws
of compensation. COWLES & MERRILL,
Sole Agentsfor Norwalk and vicinity.
WM. 0. BITTER
Havrng taken the Stable formerly occupied by
D.A. N EWCOMB,on Ho tStreot,vvould announce
to' the citizens of‘ N orwa k that he has stocked it
with good Horses, best of Coaches, Carriages.&c.,
which he will let with or without drivers on rea-
sonable terms. ‘ - ’
1A specialty of Coaches for Weddings and Funer-
a s.
Carriages run to all trains on N. Y..N. II. 11.]!
Orders can be left at Connecticut 110th or at the
Stables on. Hoyt Street. 3m49
Family. Groceries
CHEAP FOR CASH!
The nndcrsignedhnvlng purchased the stock of
goods former! owned by the Soverigns 9f Indus-
try, and fine up the store with nuentirely new
stock of Goods, 5 now; offering to the public as-
good an assortment of
CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES,
Provisions, Flour. Teas, Sugar, Spices, .Izc.. at the
ver lowest market prices for cash. Goods deliv-
crct anywhere about town free of charge. Call
and try us, it will be for your advantage.
GEORGE CARTER,
Lynes’ Block, Water Street, opposite Railroad
Crossing. 11
areas: ll. RAYMOND,
Furnishing Undertaker,
No. 53 MAIN s’rnnurgun Stairs.)
B. S. 'BLASCER.
At his store in
MALI-castes BLOCK,
has constantly on hand,a general assortment o
Groceries, Crockery, Glass,
'Iln and Wooden Ware, Etc.
Bydevotingliis constantpersonal attentionto the
business he hopes to merit public patronage
Baa Enameled am Board,
ermine. and. Blue for Fancy Neil
E A. H. BYINGTON & CO.
' hllfbensttthe fab)
Charter Perpetual. 50tf
. ”wig-5.1;
H, _ _! 1‘, _ '- . .,. .
The wondes'of medical sciencev—helt horse and
__ tours left their impress
uponj'he history oIii oworld.
' The Cerium; nguiguenls, for'rnnn aim
beast. at e'remirk'able in‘their way?” They have
been before the public 'onlyfiix' years, but inIthat
time they hays performedgmotefwohderful work!
hafeInllgvjated more pains and cured. more bed?
ridden cripples than have all other Linlments,’Em-
brbc'ation's, Extracts, Selves and Oliitinentsinex-
lsteuce. Thcir 'lm’inensc tend "rapidly-increasing
side ielndispntable evidence of the“. estimation in
whip]; they are holy]. t lhey, arealready need in
many ofthe hospitals of; this country and Eur-bps.
sIfld are prescribed by thé’he‘sfphyslcinns andvetl
erinary surgeon'sIWWhy ’ sh‘o’nldf'the'y not be-P‘
They have never mired. to ameliorate suffering
when cure from loss of bone or muscle arcrmpos-
siblc. They contain Carbolic, Witch Hazel,Bock
Oil. drnicIs and ingredients whichmust stimulate
the firiids; soften the’ siuués and teatime"‘to are
bone. We have never yet heard of the first fail-
,ure to benefit, even in stubborn cases of‘Bheuma»
tismLSclatica. and Neuralgia, while. _to_r Flesh
Wounds, Bites, Frosted Limbs, Burns, Cutaneous
Eruptions, etc., they are unfailing. What the.
White Centaur Linimenl is for the hu-
man frame. the Yellow Ce'nsaur Lfnfment
is for horses and animals. We will guarantee that
one dollar expended for Centaur Llnlmen!
will perform more and spedier results than can be
obtained for five or twenty dollars from any phy-
sician. We have made the treatment of fiesh,bone
and muscle ailments a specialty. We know that
we have preparations which do what they are
recommended to do. They are not cure-alls—they
will not mend a broken leg, but they will allevi-
ate pain and cure where any human agency can
cure. Bc.eurc and inquire for the Centuur
- Llnlmcnls and give them a fair trial.
J. B. ROSE & 00., 46 Dex Sn, NEW YORK.
Mothers, .
'l‘licre isa harmless and certain remedy for
your children. stromn is the result of twenty
years’ experiments by the celebrated Samuel
Pitcher. M. D. ‘
It is a vegetable preparation, as effective as Cas-
tor Oil, but: perfectly pleasant to the taste. It
can be taken by the youngest infant, and neither
gags nor gripes. Dr. A. J. Green, of Boyston,
Indiana, says of it: .
Sms :—I_have tried the Casronrn. and can speak
highly of its merits. It will do a’wuy with Castor
oi . tis pleasant and harmless, and is wonder.
fully efficacious as an aperient and laxative. It
18 the very thing.
The Oasronra destroys worms, regulates the
Stomach, cures Wind Colic, and permits of nat~
nral healthy sleep. It is very efficacious in Group
and for Teething Children. Honey is not pleas-
in its efi'ccts. Itcosts but35 cents, in large bottles.
amt ’J. B. ROSE a 00., NewYork.
REAL ESTATE.
uv VVVWVW
Rooms to Let
UPPEIB part of House occupied by the sub-
scriber on Newtown Turnpike, 2d house
above Episcopal Church. WALLACE DANN.
To Rent.
SOME very desirable tenements to rent near the
Bridge. Enquire of O. E. WIL - ,
s No. 4 Gazette Building, Norwalk, ct.
\ANWV
To Rent.
T0 a small_ family. Rooms with all necessary
conveniences, plenty of water in the u per
art of the house oceupied by GEORGE MAP. IN,
‘omp Street; also, barn room if desired. 7
To Rent.
THE subscriber offers to rent her place on Main
Street, horwalk, opposite the hair Grounds.
llouse new, commodious and convenient. Bor-
ongh Water. Will rent the entire house, or either
the first or second stories. App! to the owner
on the premises. CLARISSIA WILLIAMS. -
Norwalk, Feb. 18th, 1878.
To Rent.
ESIRABLE Suites of Rooms for Offices or
Families. Also. the large Brick Building on
Water Street, with Engine and Boiler, suitable
for Manufacturing Pu osee. ;
F. ST. J OHN L0 KWOOD, Executor
6 for Estate of Wm. K. James, deceased.
To Let,
ROM APRIL Isak—Several nice Houses and
Apartments about the village, some with?
good Barns. ’ '
Also, two or three desirable Stores.
Alisa, Il'éiint Shop. _ d -f D ' ,
i so, ooms now use or in She on
Knight Street. ' y g p, ~
Full SALE CHEA P.-'l‘he House formerly
owned by H. C. Mosicr, Down Town. Enquire of
to s. E. OLMSTEAD.
To Rent.
T [IE place near the head of Main Street, form-
erly occupied b the subscriber, is offered to,
rent. A comfortab e house, healthy location,
plenty of land. good orchard, small barn, and loW'
rent; Apply to ‘ R. L. ELLS. .
Barn to Let.
'POSSESSION immediate‘liy’i en uire of
O. KEELEB.
To Rent.
A number of good places in good locations.
can be had onnpplicstion to C. 1’. TURNEY.
N orwalk, Feb. 4th, 1877. 6
To B [milk—Three rooms in the Jarvis house,
with privilege ofa small garden.
Apply to
J. W. McLEAN. M. D.
To Let. .
The Property in the rear of the Fair-6
field County National Bank,
formerly occupied by Price A: Bates. suitable for
manufncturing purposes. Also Born on High St.
‘ E. B. PRICE.
Long Island Real Estate
For Sale.
I
HAVE a number of very desirable FARMS on
Long Island which I Will dispose of very cheap
and on reasonable terms. ‘ '
Also a large tract of TIMBER LAND, to sell or
exchange for Nor-walk propcrt . For-furtherpar-
ticulars apply at my ofilce, 0.4Main St.,Nor-
walk. 13‘? J. S. RANDALL.
Desirable Property For Sale.
THE Homestead formerly owned and now 0:-
. center! by John Roberts. For articulars en-
quire of CHAS. H. STR ET.
Fairfield 00. National Bank.
For Sale or to. Rent.
LOSE on the Sound between Nor-walk and
I Westport Harborsm ood House and Barn
With Fourteen Acres of and. Good Water,
plenty of Fruit; Iand ten' minutes from either
depot. Enquire of JULIA S. FITCH, East Ave-
nue, Norwalk. 4t'6
Farm for Sale.
DWE LLING HOUSE situated iuthe Borough
of Nonvnlk. with or without twenty-”eight
A
acres of land; said land is suitably divided into
pasture, wood, plow and meadow land. For fur-
ther information apply at this Office. orot‘ the sub.
scriber. HARVEY FITCH.
him-walk, January 14th, 1878. 3
For Sale Cheap,
01' Exchange for other property,
One of the neatest.and cosiest little Cottages in
the Borough. Will scllto agood tenant for little
gastfimoney down. Enquire at GAZETTE 0F-
For Sale.
.u A House and Lot, in a healthy location on
m; Fair Street, above Catharine. The H ones is
nearly new. well built, conveniently arrang-
ed, and will make a comfortable and leasant
home for a family of average size. The at runs
back to the river. There is «well ot‘cxcellent
water on the place, and Borough water in the
Street. Price low, and part of the money can re-
main on mortgage. A fine chance to secure
home. Apply at GAZETTE OFFICE. 3tf
Desirable Property for sale.
A
Ver ydesirablc place on East Avenue.
Also, a few chorce Building Lots situated on
Osborn Avenue, for sale cheap.
' Also,antcelylceated House and Lot on Mer-
win Street near West Avenue, for sale at a bar-
gain. Enquircof‘ ,
S, E. OSBORN. East Avenue,
“'11 or to D. W. FITCH, West Avenue.
FOR SALE.
TWO vorydesirableBuildingLotson WestMain
Street. Apply at the G ETTE OFFICE .
VOL mm
.2..-- 7 . 1’ r1 ,l
[$3.1 ~. . , ..., .v- _ ,..‘f . ,5
enter to the taste, and Castor Oil is not so certain -
_ language behind the scenes.
ll 9.
‘ . , fhdfC‘hangedci-dss.
l .. In
.- ,-
‘. -44-
BY .
,u .. . I "‘7
.u. , . -
. . ,_ . ,
.H:"1:.:gt
1.»"-';-.~
Bough 19.!!!" way on which her steps are
bending,“_ .‘ ‘ . ’
And desolate 'nnd dreary: .! .'
9
i"
"I
.-; . . rNow blooming" flowers are near, I
4’ Only sharp stones and sharper thorns appear
And the dark ”10"”"fim‘6arker night is
"blbndi'n‘gt 517.3,,
, "‘ ) t' v»... '.—;_Jt-'\: I."— .-
,4 4.1.0133 119139821110 heme. Marycrosses,
Only, alas! tooplain, it;
. Andher young heart: would fern
Leave them to ,lie there, could she so but
gain . ~ - ~
At last that better Home‘thst knows no'l‘osses.
- .. ,.
...I'} A.
ButHerwhoboniaheavier-far, is standing
5;“Clgsbegtp_her,side;.j_. r", .-- 7;."
In garmentzglorified
tWim hmenlyligh‘, andnshe'r gentle guide.
Mutely—-without a look-uis seen commanding;
:Turn, daughterjtake it. What for,thee, I
bearing ' ' ”
'IScorned not to take,
Do thou, too, make ,
Thy burden joyfully, for my‘ dear sake;
And thou, like Me; thy crown will soon be
' wearing." W ' ' ”"WM‘FE‘" V '
She st00ps to take it. Lo! before her know-
. ing .
It changes fair,
And roses “met and rare
Cluster about‘the wood so rough and bare;
Aye, from its bittert hear themselves are
growing l
So is it ever.. What wiih souls bowed low
In love and meekness true
We unto. Jesus do,
Or bear—or for his sake no others show—-
This shall with strangely new,
Divincly fragrant, and unfading pleasures
grow. ._
And on our pathway dark shall heaven’s
light streaming
Its splendors throw,
' Illuming,.as we go,
Each step, and veiling all our woe
With flowers that in its rnldence only grow
Beneath the smile that from his face is
beaming. ’ , I I
—Indqmzdent.—
Sometime.
Sometimes, when all life’s lesson have been
learned,
And sun and stars forevermore have set,
The things which our weak judgments here
have spurred,
The things o‘er which we grieved with lashes
wet, ' , '
Will flash before us, out of life’s dark night,
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we, shall see how all God's plans were
right,
And how what seemed reproof was love
most true.
:And we shall see how, while we frown and
sigh,
God's plans go on as best for you and me:
How, when we called,hc'heeded not our cry,
Because his wisdom to the end could see.
And even as prudent parents disallow
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
'So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
Life’s sweetest things because it seemeth
good.
And if sometimes, commingled with life‘s
wine,
We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink,
Be sure a wiser head than yours or mine
Pours out this position for Our lips to drink.
And if some friend we love is lying low,
Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
0!), do not blame the loving Father so,
But wear your sorrow with obedient grace!
And you shall shortly know that lengthened
breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that, sometimes, the sable pail of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life,
And stand within, and all God’s workings
. see,
We could interpret all' this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key!
,But not to-day. Then be content, poor health !
God’s plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold.
We must not tear the close-shut leavesapart:
Time if, through patient toil, we reach the
land
Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may
rest,
When we shall clearly know and understand,
I think that we will say, “God knew the
best.
--The Presbyterian.
Au Anecdot of Macready.
Mr. Sals. has been attacking dead actors in
.: Touchstone. He charges Macready with
having habitully used foul and blasphemous
An apologist has
come to the front who hints that Mr. Sula
4 may have been led astray by the fact that in
the last act of “Macbeth” Macready invari-
bly lashed himself into a sort of fever, which
he aggravated by using all sorts of strong ex.—
pressions. When Mr. Phelps played Mac.
chef to him for the first time he was not a lit-
tle amazed during the fight at the close of the
last act to hear Macready call him a beast, a
scoundrel, a hell-born villian, a base-born
cuss, and a devil. Full of resentment,
Phelps hurled back the epithets with energy,
and heaped foul names upon Macready. At
the close Macready said: “Thank you Mr.
lelps, thank you; I’ve never been so well
supported.” In another play, where it was
necessary to enter in a panting fury, full of
rage, exhibiting the gasping exhaustion of
mad passion, Mucready used to have a hired
“super” whom he could grapple and shake
and curse at, off the stage, so that he could
QIenter . naturally. One night the regular
I“super” sent a substitute who did not quite
understand the business.
He resented Ma-
cready’s rough treatment, which delighted
the tragedian, who went at his man with in.
creased vigor. The substitute presently
“let him have it," and the pair fought sav-
agelyn good round. Macready that night
burst uponithe audience in a splendid rage,
oubMacreadying Macready. When'the sub-
'stitute learned the true state of affairs, how-
ever, he bolted; but he was unearthed, for
Macready came off after the scene gasping,
“Hum—ha! where is he ? Hum, ha, bless
me! A splendid fellow! Pay him double and
let me have him every night.” For the sake
of a great actor's memory it is to be hoped
that Mr. Sala has judged Mr. Macread y by
one of his- professional paroxysms, and not
by his ordinary conduct as a gentlemen and
an al'tist.—Lo_7ul0n Letter to the Times.
Who was that tall young man with auburn
mustache and florid complexion, hailing from
Norwalk, from head-quarters, as he said,
who after the trial on Monday, wanted to bet
$100 to $10 with a clergyman, that com-
promise had been made by which, on ac-
count of the release of Mr. Buckley, no more
rosecutions were to be made of illegal
iquor sellers ? Did that young man’s
mother know he had come -to Stamford ——
Advocate. . ' , -.
The Vermont Chronicle publishes the fol-
lowing: “Two prominent members ”of. the
senior class at An‘dover, it. is..cur'rcntly '"re-
ported, have failed of receiving calls to’im-
portant churches in New England, solely
because they are abdicted to the use of to-
bacco. All praise to these two churches for
the stand they have taken! ’ It is alsoa mat-
ter of rejoicin , if it be true,\that the two
young theologians have found grace to throw
away their pipes and cigars.” '
Norwalk Chronicler