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WHOLE mint? 1579.
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NORWALK, CONNECTICUT, TUESYAY, APRIL 9,1878. » VOL, “Lawn '15
which demonstrated that circumstances alone Chased by a Train of Fire. both of us home, safe and scan 1, but terribly N ORWALK GAZETTE, , REAL _f ESTATE. ; The New chfirch no“?
_ Wrinkles.
Every wrinkled, care-WOrn brow
Bears the record: “Something done”—
Sometimc, somewhere, then or now,
Battles lost or battles won.
Mother Nature gave us faces
Very fresh and round and fair;
Later on her finger traces
Lines of strugrrle, doubt, and care.
Merit marks, I think, are sent us
When some lesson hard we learn;
Wealth and fame seem sometimes lent us ;
But our wrinkles we must earn-
‘Gainst life’s current upward rowing,
We must earn them one by one;
Each an index, truly showing
How much work the soul has done I
— Vermont 01': ramble.
Love and Self-Love.
A STORY 01’ VENICE.
It was during the very brightest days of the
republic of Venice, when her power was in
its prime, together with the arts which have
made her, like every Italian State, celebrated
all over the world—for Italy has produced in
poetry and painting and in the humbler walks
of musical composition the greatest of the
world’s marvels—that Paola Zustana was
charged by the Marquis di chbo to paint
several pictures to adorn his gallery. Paola
had come from Rome at the request of the
Marquis, who had received a very favorable
account of the young artist—he was but
thirty. Paola was handsome,of middle height
dark and pale; he had deep black eyes,a small
mouth, a finely traced moustache, a short
curling beard and a forehead of remarkable
intellectuality. There was a slight‘savagcness
in his manner, a brief, sharp way of speaking,
a restlessness in his eye which did not in-
crease the number of his friends. But when
men know him better and were admitted to
his intimacy—a very rare occurrence—they
loved him.
Then he was generous-hearted and noble ;
his time, his purse, his advice were all at their
service. But his whole soul was in his art.
Night and day, day and night, he seemed to
think of nothing but his painting. In Rome
he had been looked upon as mad, for in the
day he was not content with remaining close
at work in his master’s studio, but at night he
invariably shut himself up in an old, half
ruined house in the outskirts, where none of
his friends were invited, and where no man
ever pen. trated, and no woman, save an old
nurse who had known him from a child. It
was hell. d, with considerable plausibility,
that the .xl'llSt had a picture in hand and that
he passed his night even in study. He rarely
left his retreat before mid-day and generally
returned to his hermitage early, after a casual
visit to his lodgings, though he could not oc-
casionally refuse being present at large and
fashionable parties given by his patron.
On arriving in Venice he resumed his fortn-
er mode of life. He had an apartment at the
Palace Bembo. He took his meals there, but
at nightfall, when there was no grand recep-
tion, be wrapped himself in his cloak, put on
his mask, and drawing his sword hilt close to
his hand, went forth. He tooka gondola until
he reached a certain narrow street, and then,
gliding down that, he disappeared in the
gloom caused by the lofty houses. No one
noticed much this mode of life. He did his
duty. He was polite, affable and respectful
with his patron. He did not make the slight-
est effort to win the affections of those around
him. Now all this passed in general without
much observation. -
Still, there was one person whom this wild-
ness and eccentricity of character—all that
has a stamp of originality is called eccentric—
caused to feel interest in"him. The Marquis
had a daughter,who at sixteen had been mar-
ried from interested motives, to the old uncle
of the Doge, now dead. Clorinda was a bean-
tiful widow of one and twenty, who, rich,in-
dependent, of a determined and thoughtful
character, had made up her mind to marry a
second time, not to please relations, but her-
self. From the first she noticed Paolo favor-
ably; he receivcd her friendly advances re-
spectfully; but boldly, and rarely stopped his
work to converse. She asked for lessons to
improve her slight knowledge of painting.
He gave them freely,but without adding a sin-
gle word even to the necessary observations
of the interview. He seemed absorbed in his
art. One day Clorinda stood behind him.
She had been watching him with patient at-
tention for an‘ hour. She now came and took
up her quarters in the gallery all day, with
her attendant girl, reading or painting. Paolo
had not spoken one wordzduring that hour.
Suddenly Clorinda rose and uttered the ex-
clamation, “How beautiful !”
“Is it not, signora '1’”
“Most beautiful,” she returned, astonished
both at the artist‘s manner and the enthusi-
asm with which he alluded to his own crea-
.tion.
“I am honored by your approval,” said Pa-
olo, laying down his palette and folding his
arms to gaze at the picture—a Cupid and a
Psyche—with actual rapture.
It was the face of the woman—of the girl,
timidly impassioned and tender,filling the air
around with beauty~that had struck Clorin-
da. With golden hair that waved and shone
in the sun, with a white, small, exquisitely
shaped forehead, wrth deep blue eyes fixed
with admiring love on the tormenting god,
with checks on which lay so softly the bloom
of health that it seemed ready to fade before
the breath from the painting, with a mouth
and a chin moulded on some perfect Grecian
statue, she thought she had never seen any-
thing so divine.
“Ah 1” she said with a sigh, “you painters
are dreadful enemies of women. Who would
look at reality after gazing on this beautiful
ideal ?”
“It is reality,” replied the painter. “I paint
from memory.”
“Impossible! you must have combined
the beauty of fifty girls in that exquisite cre-
ation."
“No,” said the artist, gravely, “that face
exists. I saw it in the mountains of Sicily.
I have often painted it before, but never so
successfully.”
“I would give the world to_ gaze on the~
original,” replied Clorinda. “I adore abeau-
tiful woman. It is one of God’s greatest
works of art.” - .
“It is, Signora,” said Paolo, and he turned
away to his work.
Women born in the climate of Italy under
her deep blue sky, and in that air that
breathes of poetry, painting, music and love,
are not guided by the same impulses and feel-
ings as are our colder and more practical
North. Clorinda did not wait for Paolo’s
admiration ; she loved him, and every day
added to her passion. His undoubted genius,
his intellectual brow, his noble features and
mien had awakened her long pent-up and.
sleeping afiections. She was herself a wo-
man of superior mind, and had reveled in the
delights of Petr-arch, Dante, Ariosto and
Boccaccio. Now she felt—how deeply she
alone knew. But Zustana remained obsti-
nately inscnsible to all her charms, to her
friendship and her condescending tone, as
well as to her intellect and beauty. He saw
all save her love, and admired and respected
her much.” But there was—at all events, at
present—no germ of fiSlug passion in his
heart.
It was not long before she began to remark
his early departure from the palace, his mys-
terious way of going, and the fact that he
never returned until the next day at early
dawn, which always now saw him at his la-
mind that he had found in Venice some per-
son on whom to lavish the riches of his af-
fection, and that. he went every evening to
plead his passion at her feet. Jealousy took
possession of her. She spent a. whole night
in reflection ; she turned over in her mind
every supposition ; and she rose feverish and
ill. That day, pleading illness, she remained
in her room shut up with her books.
About an hour after dark, Paolo, his hat
drawn over his eyes, his cloak wrapped
round him and his mask on, stepped into a‘
gondola which awaited him and started. An.
other boat lay on the opposite side of the
canal, with curtains closely drawn. Scarcely
had the artist’s gondola been set in motion
than it followed Paolo, who, having never
since his arrival in Venice been watched or
followed, paid no attention to it. The two
gondolas then moved side by side without re-
mark, and that of Zustana stopped as usual,
allowed the artist to land and continued on
its way. A man wrapped in a cloak, masked,
and with a hat and plumes, leaped out of the
other gondola, and creeping close against the
wall followed him. The stranger seemed
by his gazing at the dirty walls and low shops
—chiefly old clothes, rug shops and ware-
housrs devoted to small trades—very much
surprised, but, for fear of losing the track
of the other, followed closely. Suddenly
Zustana disappeared, the other moved rapid-
ly forward in lime to observe that he had
entered a dark alley and was ascending with
heavy step a gloomy and winding staircase.
The stranger followed cautiously, stepping in
time with Paolo and feeling with his hands.
Zusta only halted when he reached the sum-
mit of the house. He then placed a key in
a door—a blaze of light was seen, and he dis-
appeared. locking the door behind him. The
man stood irrcsolutc, but only a moment.
a well; there was a terraced roof. Gliding
noiselessly on, the stranger was in the‘open
air; moving along like a midnight thief, he
gained a position whence the windows of the
rooms entered by Zustana were distinctly vis-
ible.
A groan, a sigh from the stranger,who sank
behind a kind of pillar,revcaled the countess.
The groan, the sigh, were occasioned by the
astonishing discovery she now made. '
The room into which she was lodking was
brilliantly lighted up and beautifully fur-
nished, while beyond—for Clorinda could see
as plainly as if she had been in it—was a small
bedroom, and near the bed sat an old wcman
who was preparing to bring a child to Zustana.
Just withdrawing herself from the embrace
of Zustana was a beautiful young girl, simply
and elegantly dressed—the original of the
Psyche which she had so much admired. Now
she understood all; that look which she had
ful creation was for the beloved original.
The child, a beautiful boy nearly one year
old, was brought to Zustana to kiss. Now all
his savagcnesu was gone; now he stood no
longer the artist, the creator, the genius of
,art, but the man. He smiled, he patted the
babe upon the cheek, he let it clutch his fin-
gers with his little hands,he laughed outright
a rich, happy, merry, ordinary laugh; and
then turning to the cnrapturcd mother, em-
braced her once more and drew her to a table
near the open window.
“What progress today P" asked the painter
gaily.
“See,” replied the young mother, handing
him a copy-book and speaking in the some-
what harsh dialect of a Sicilian peasant girl.
“I think at last, I can write a page pretty
well."
“Excellent,” continued the painter, smil-
ing. - “My Eleanora is a perfect little fairy.
A prettier handwriting you will not see. 1
need give no more lessons.”
“But the reading," said the young girl,
speaking like a timid scholar, “I shall never
please you there."
“You always please me," exclaimed Zusta-
na ; “but you must get rid of your accent.”
“I’ll try,” said Eleanora, earnestly, and
taking up a book she began to read, with
much of the imperfection of a young school
girl, but so eagerly, so prettily, with such an
evident desire to please, that as she conclud-
ed her lesson thc artist clasped her warmly
to his bosom, and cried, with love in his eyes
and in his tone, “My wifc,howI adore you !"
One summer morning a young man with a
knapsack on his back, a pair of pistols in his
belt, a staff to assist him in climbing the hills
and mountains. and in crossing the torrents,
was standing on the brow of a hill overlook-
ing a small but beautiful plain. It was half
meadow, half pasture land ; here trees, there
a winding stream, little hillocks, green and
grassy plots; beyond, a lofty mountain on
which hung a sombre-tinted pine forest, the
whole illuminated by the joyous sun of Sicily,
which flooded all nature, and spread as it
were a violet and metallic veil over her. After
gazing nearly half an hour at the delicious
landscape,thc young man moved slowly down
a winding path that led to the river side.
Suddenly he heard the tinkling of sheep-bells,
the barking ofidogs, and looked around to
see whence the sound came. In a small cor-
ner of the pasture-land, at no great distance
from the stream, he saw the flock, and seated
beneath the shadow of a huge tree, a young
girl. .. ,
He advanced at once toward her, not being
sure of his way. _
She was a young girl of sixteen, the same
delicate and exquisite creation, which had so
struck Clorinda on the canvas and in the gar-
ret of Venice. The eye of the artist was de-
lighted, the heart of the man was filled with
emotion. He spoke to her. She answered
timidly, but sweetly. He forgot his intended
question; he alluded to the beautiful coun-
try, to the delight of dwelling in such a land,
to the pleasures of her calm and placid exist-
ence; he asked her if he could obtain a room
in that neighborhood in which to reside while
he took a series of sketches. The girl lis-
tened with attention for nearly half an hour,
during which time he was using his pencil.
She then replied that her father would gladly
offer him shelter in their small house, if he
would be satisfied with the very humble
lodging and very humble fare. The young
man accepted with thanks, and then showed
her .his sketch book.
“Holy Virgin!” she cried, as she recogniz-
ed herself. '
“You are pleased,” said the artist, smiling.
“Oh! it’s beautiful; how can you do that
with a pencil? Come quick and‘show it to
father 1” " '
The young man followed her as she slewly
drove her sheep along, and soon found him-
self in sight of a small house with a garden,
which she announced as her father’s. She
had the drawing in her hand, looking at it
with delight. Unable to restrain her feelings,
she ran forward, and entering the house,
disappeared. Zustana—of course it was he
—laughed as he picked up the crook of the
impetuous young shepherdess, and' aided by
the faithful dog, proceeded to drive home the
patient animals. In ten minutes Eleanora
reappeared, accompanied by her father, her
brother and sister, regular Sicilian peasants,
without one atom of resemblance to this cx-
traordinary pearl concealed from human eye
in the beautiful valley of Arnola. They were
all, however, struck by the portrait and re-
ceived the artist with rude hospitality.
He took up his residence with them; he
sought to please and he succeeded. After a
very few days he became the constant com-
panion of Eleonora. They went out togeth-
er, hc to paint, she to look after her sheep—
both to talk. Paolo found her totally unedu-
cated, ignorant of everything, unable to read
or write, and narrow-minded as all such na-
tures must be. But there was a foundation
hers. The idea at once flashed across her
of sweetness and a quickness of intellect
The house was built round a square court,like.
thought the consciousness of his own beauti-g
had made her what she was, and Paolo loved
her.
He had been a fortnight at Arnola and he
had made up his mind. . One beautiful morn-
ing, soon after they had taken up their usual
position, he spoke :
“Eleonora, I love you with a love that is of
my life; I adore, I worship you ; you are the
artist’s ideal of loveliness; your soul only
wants culture to be as lovely as your body.
Will you be my wife? Will you make my
home. your home, my country your country,
my life your life? I am an artist; I battle
for my,bread,but I am already gaining riches.
Speak! Will you be mine ?"
“I will,” replied the young girl, who had
no conception of hiding her feelings of pride
and joy.
“But you do not know me. I am jealous
and suspicious ; I am proud and sensitive.
You are beautiful, you are lovely; others will
dispute you with me. I would slay the Pope
if he sought you; I would kill the Emperor
if he offered you a gift. You are a simple
peasant girl. Those around me might smile
at your want of town knowledge ; might
jecr at you for not having the accomplish-
ments and vices of a town lady. I would
challenge the first who smiled or jecred. You
must then, if you can be mine and make me
happy, live apart from men, for me alone.
You must know of no existence but. mine;
' you must abandon all society, all converse
with your fellow creatures. I must be your
world, your whole being.”
“I will be what pleases you best,” said the
young girl gently.
“The picture does not alarm you ?"
“Will you always love me 9” she asked,
timidly. -
“While I live, my art, my idol, my god-
dess! Eleanora, while I breathe.”
“Do with me as you will," replied the
young girl. I .
A month later they were married, her pa
rents being proud indeed of the elevated po-
sition to which their daughter attained. They
went in autumn to Rome, where Paola had
prepared for his mysterious existence by
means of his faithful and attached nurse. He
devoted to Eleanora every moment not di-
rected to his art, and at once began her edu-
cation systematically. Hc found an apt and
earnest scholar, and at the time of which I
speak Eleanora was possessed of all the men-
tal advantages to be derived from constant
intercourse with a man of genius.
But Paolo Zustana, out of his home, was a
changed and unhappy man; he lived in con-
stant dread of his treasure being discovered;
he saw, with secret impatience, the many de-
fects which still existed in his beloved idol;
he felt the restraint of always confining her
within a suite of rooms; he longed to give
her air and space, but he dreaded her being
seen by powerful and unscrupulous men ; he
dreaded ridicule for her peasant origin and
imperfect educatien. Hence the defects in
his character.
It was on the afternoon of the next day,
and Zustana, who had been giving some fin—
ishing touches to the Psyche, was absorbed
in its contemplation. He held the brush in
his hand and‘stood back a little way examin-
ing it with attention.
“It is beautiful! The Countess Clorinda
was right,” he exclaimed.
“Not nearly so beautiful as the original,”
replied that lady in a low tone. _
“Great heavens l” cried Paolo, turning pale
and fiercely,to start back in silent amazement.
There was Eleanora, blushing, trembling,
timid, hanging a little back, and yet leaning
on the arm of the countess, who smiled a
sweet, sad smile of triumph. "
“Be not angry, Signor Zustana,” she said:
“it is all mp fault. You excited my curiosi-
ty relative to the original of this picture.
You said it existed. I immediately connect-
ed your mysterious absences with something
which might explain all. Last night I fol—
lowed you home; I saw this beautiful crea-
ture ; I understood the motives of her seclu-
sion. This day I went to see her early; I
forced my way in. Half by threats, half by
coaxing, I extracted the truth from her.
Signor Paolo, your conduct is selfish; to save
yourself from imaginary evils you condemn
this angel to a prison life; you deprive her
of air and liberty—the very life of a Sicilian
girl; you prevent her from enjoying the
manifold blessings which God intended for
all ; you deprive us of the satisfaction of ad-
miring a face so exquisite and a mind so di-
vine. But, then, you will say she is beauti-
ful enough to excite love; she is simple
enough to excite a smile. Signor Paolo, she
is good enough to scorn the first word of law-
less passion ; she is educated enough to learn
everything that becomes a lady and befits the
wife of aman of genius if you will but let
her mix‘with the world. You are yourself
miserable; your life is a torment; I, the
friend, the confidante, the sister of this inno-
cent, good girl, declare to you that you must
change your mode of existence.”
“Countess, you have conquered,” cried'
Zustana, who guessed the truth, and who in-
tuitively felt that her generous heart would
find-in devotion to Eleanora means of with-
drawing her attention from her unfortunate
passion. “Do with her as you please. The
Countess Clorinda, only child of my generous
patron, calls my wife her sister, my wife is
hers for life.”
The result was natural. Paolo Zustana
ceased to be suspicious and restless. Elean-
ora was universally admired; and when, ten .
years later, the artist, after finishing the paint-
ings for the gallery of the Palace chbo,took
up his residence permanently in Venice, his
wife had become an accomplished and unaf-
fected lady, capable of holding her position
in the elevated circles to which the genius of
her husband and the friendship of Clorinda
established her right to belong. Clorinda re-
mained true to her friendship all her life, de-
lighted and happy at being the insurer of
permanent happiness to two loving hearts,
which under the system of suspicion, fear
and seclusion adopted by one of them must
ultimately have been utterly wrecked.
#
Sons: Anmxrsens or Cannon—Do not
let the idea that you know it all get away
with you. Don’t try to make your wife be-
lieve that you are a great man, because she
will know better. Do not try to make your
children believe you are a saint. They will
find you out. Acknowledge that you are hu-
man. and establish a bond of sympathy with
them. Tell them not to lie, because you
know lying to be bad. Children are thinkers,
and in their quaint, quiet little way, sharp
logicians. Do not impose on them. A child
trained contrary to its inclinations is not
worth three nothings. Do not try to direct
their minds into channels that are unconge.
nial to them. When children ask, questions
you cannot answer, honestly acknowledge.
your ignorance. They will think more of
you for it, and it is far preferable to have
them think you are ignorant than to catch
you in a lie. Let us raise leaders instead of
followers—Ulmrch Union. '
The biggest tree in. California is not in the
Yosemite Valley. King’s River Valley, in
Fresno county, is 5,000 feet above the sea,-
and its walls, which are about 3,000 feet high
are very precipitous. In this valley a new
grove of colossal redwood trees have been
discovered. One of them eclipses all that has
been discovered on the Pacific caaat. Its
circumference, as high as a man can reach
and pass a tape line around, is a few inches
less than 140 feet. This is beyond the meas
urement of any tree in the Calaveras grove.
The height is estimated at 140 feet; and a
part of the top lying on the ground is over
100 feet in length.
“I’ve been down the bank morc’n once,
and had a few bad smash-ups in the twenty
years I’ve run a locomotive, but the closest
call I ever had was the time I was chased
from Mayville to Brocton Junction by an oil
train all afire. I kin almost feel my hair turn
white now when I think 0’ that."
He was one of the oldest engineers on the
Lake Shore road, and was riding me on his
engine from Brocton to Dunkirk. .
“I was on the Buffalo, Corry and Eric road
then. It was in 1869—August the seven-
teenth. The bit 0’ track ’twixt Mayville
and Brocton is about the crookedest an’
steepest stretch there is in the country. It’s
ten mile from one place to t’other, but the
twists in the road made it fourteen.
The grade’s ’bout- eighty foot to the mile.
The road’s so crooked that it’s a standin’ joke
’mong th’ boys that they dasn’t put morc'n
ten c'ars in a train or the cngine’ll butt the
caboose certain. The road runs down into
the oil country, an’ heaps o’ petroleum is run
over it. That night, ’bout nine o’clock,I was
gettin’ ready to leave the summit with a box
car,,six_ oil cars, an’ two passenger cars. The
latter was full. The box car had two valua-
ble trottin‘ horsesin it. I got th’ signal from
th’ conductor to go ahead,-and started her
up. We was under tol’blc headway when I
see flames burst ont'n one 0’ oil cars. I
whistled down brakes. The passenger car
was cut loose, an’ the brakes on. We cut
the engine and box car off from the burnin’
cars, an' thinkin’ the brakean ’d stop them,
I pulled on slowly down the hill. But pretty
soon I see I was in a. fix. The oil cars wasn’t
stopped, an’ they came a tarin’ down the
grade after us, an’ ’forc I could give my en-
gine speed ’nough to git'out’n’ the way, kcr
boom, they came ’gainst the box car, smash-
in’ in one end and knockin’ the horses an"
their keepers flat on the floor. It’s a mighty
wonder the shock didn’t- knock the engine oil
the track, an’ it did give her an awful husse-
lin. But she settled down to her work, ’5 if
she know’d we was bound to have a race for
life.
Lord, how the flames roared! Every infer-
nal car was afire now, an‘ th’ heat was tar'ble.
I could hear them hosses fairly scream with
terror. Both th’ keepers clumb up V th’ end
0’ th’-car next to the engine. I could see by
the back-light o’ the furnace that their faces
was as white as chalk, an’ they hollcrcd to
me: ‘For Christ’s sake, Jack, give her more
steam 1’ They didn’t know’t I had her pulled
wide open, an’ was tearin' down that eighty
foot grade at nearly eighty mile an hour.
She went so fast, so help me God, that she
quit pumpin’. Wc shot them curves like a
streak o’ lightnin', an’ every time we’d strike
one ’t seemed ’t we must go over. When the
oil cars struck us, we made a gap of ten feet
’tween them and us, an’ couldn’t increase it
to save our souls.
Poor Jimmy Keenan was my fireman. He
was crazed for ’bout a minute, when the
burnin’ cars hit us and kep' so close in our
wake. He tried to jump off, but I grabbed
him and held him till he cum to himself, an’
he stuck to the old gal like a man. Jimmy
got killed in pickin’ a young one off the track
ahead of an express train, near Corry, a year
or two afterward. He saved the young one,
though.
It was a dark night, an’ though I felt ’t the
chances was we‘d never git to Brocton alive,
I couldn't help but be struck with the scene.
Here was us thunderin’ along faster’n any en-
gine ever went in this country afore or since,
through woods an’ on th' edge 0’ high rocks,
expectin’ every minute to be hurled off the
track an’ be carried home to our wives crush-
ed and mangled out 0’ all knowin’ 0’ us.
The hosses was stampin’ about in the box
car, neighin’ in a way "that sounds in my ears
yit when I git a thinkin' 0’ this. The keep-
,ers told me afterwards that they crouched
down in the fur corner of the car, almos’
sweltered with heat, expectin’ a gran‘ crash
every second, an’ in danger o’ bein’ trampled
to death by the horses. Through the broken
end 0‘ the car they could see the blazin’ oil
tanks a roarin’ down after us, an’ it seemed
to them, they said, ’5 if they was gainiu’ on
us every second.
Oh, Lord, what 'a sight them oil cars was.
Thousands and thousands 0‘ gallons 0’ oil,
with all the combustible parts of it still in it,
a burnin’ all at once, an’ rushin’ down the
mountain like a tremenjis meteor, on a night
as dark as pitch! The blaze was morc’n
sixty feet high, _and lit up the crooked road
and the woods and mountains for miles
around. The whole heavens was illuminat-
ed, and from Brocton they said the sight of
this great blaze, a tearing along like a demon,
now hid for a second by a cut or a piece of
woods, and, then leaping out again and
jumping up towards the sky like a huge foun-
tain of fire—why, they said ’twas jest grand
and gorgeous. The light was so great that
the boys see us a.~ swooping along ahead 0’
the mass 0’ flying flames, afore they know’d
what was up. They know’d there was a race
for life a going on down that mountain, and
they know’d the chances was agin the ones
what was chased.
Of course the whole thing commenced and
was over in a good deal less time than I’ve
been a telling of it. When I see the lights 0’
Brocton Junction, it struck me. all of a sud-
den that the Cincinnati express onthc Shore
Road mustbe about due there from the West.
It lacked one second of the express
train’s time at‘Brocton. We’d been thinkin’
all along that to save ourselves the switch at
the junction must be opened to let us in on
the Shore track, where the road was level,
an’ we could get away from the burnin’ cars.
The switch, of course, was closed in now,
even. if the switchman opened it on my sig-
nal, there was the danger of crashing into
the express. It added to this fearful situa-
tion, I see a freight train from the east pull-
ing in like the devil possest to get inter the
switch at Brocton, out of the way of the due
express.
“Good God!" says I, “Jimmy, what’ll we
do ?”
This all took place inside of five seconds.
“Holler for the switch,” says Jimmy.
“That’s our only chance.”
So I Whistlcd for them to open the switch.
Lord, what a shriek that engine give! Seem-
ed as if it knew our chances was slim, and
it’s whistle was just one yell of agony.
“Suppose they don‘t open the switch, J im-
my ?” said I. Hot as it was, I could feel the
cold sweat stand cut on my forehead and
ooze outnll over me. I know I was as pale
as a sheet, for I could feel it. Jimmy had
been married jes’ a week afore, and I know’d
how much he thought of that little woman
of his. I had a wife and seven children. It
was a kinder an ole thing with me, but there
wasn’t no spot to me like that little home of_
mine and it's- contents. -
“If they don’t turn the switch, Jack,” said
J immy—L“good bye !" ,
He stuck out his hand. I know'd what he‘
meant. I ketchcd hold on his hand,_and we
bid each other good bye. An’ all the time
we was sweepin’ like the wind toward the
station, with the blazin} devil only ten feet
behind me. Then, thank God, they did turn
the switch, and we shot in on the Shore
track, tore by the depot like a rocket, and
on through the town, and on up the road.
We know’d then that the express had been
warned of our approach. We soon outstrip-
ped the burning cars, they losing their mo.
mentum of the grade. We slow’d our brave
old gal up by degrees, and stopped within a
hundred yards of the express that lay in the
track waiting for the upshot of the race.
Jimmy and me got off, but the next we
know’d we didn't know nothing. We faint-
ed dead away, and when we come too, was
shook up, now I tell you.
The two boss-keepers was b- i: h unconscious
in the box car. If they’da ltnow’d thc‘other
dangers we was in aside from the burning
cars, dosc me if I don’t think they’d it died.
The hosses was badly cut up, and so unstrung
that I guess they never got over it. ‘ After
all, our escape from mllision with the Shere
express had been more luck than manage-
ment. The express was a minute late.~ The
engineer see the blaze'df the oil carstcaring
the matter was at once. But he didn’t calcite
fearful speed, and he‘ thought we could get
to the depot out of the way before he reach-
ed it. He got within nmile of‘ the station, see
he couldn’t. make it, stopped, and backed
away to give us room. If he had been on
time—well, it ain’t at all likely I’d.be telling
you of this~—thcn there would have been
more widdcrs and orphins in the countrynb:
day than there is. By bull-headed luck-the
engineer of the up freight made his sideiug-
in time to get out of the way.
The oil cars was lcft’to burn up, of course.
They burned three hours, and the express
had to lay off until they got through. The
luckiest part of the whole thing was the
brakcman at the summit having sense enough
to cut off the passengcrcars and stop them.
They would have been on fire in less than a
minute ; and as they tore down the hill at
lightning speed, hundreds of human beings
would have been roasted in that quarter of a
mile of fire. .
I’ve been a good whilctcllin' you about this:
circumstance, but how long 1‘ do you suppose ,
left Maysville summit to the time Jimmy an’
me fainted beyond Brocton, was jest‘eleven
minutes and twenty seconds. I had the time
when we started, and one of the boys:look’d
at his watch when we dropp'd. IVc had run
over fifteen miles. .
“It seems strange to me,” I ventured to re-
mark, “that you didn’t jump from your on-
ginc, as you might have done, at the start.”
“What ! leave my engine! I’d as soon
think of dcscrting my wife in trouble as to
'quit my engine when there’s difficulty ahead
of her. I ain‘t .no brag, but if ever they
find. old Jack’s engine down the bank, a
piece of him will be found not faraway from
her.”
Fiction ln the Bible.
[Dr. Holland’s Editorial in Scribner-’5 for March]
The oldest novel -in existence is probably
the Book of Job. We presume there may be.
some men left who still read the Book of
Job as a veritable history, but those who are
capable of judging will simply place it at
the head of the realm of fiction. That it is
divinely inspired we do not dispute. Indeed,
the establishment of its divine inspiration as
a fact, rather than the acceptance of it as a
matter of faith, would only strengthen the
position we have always held, viz., that the
highest fiction is that which the. most com-
petently carries the most valuable burden of
truth. The writer of the Book of Job was
aman who, in the dawn, as it were, of hu-
man history, revolved in a catholic, cultured
and reverent mind the unequal dealings of
God with men. Why did the good man have
trouble? Job was an excellent man, ‘perfect
and upright,’ stripped of every good, and the
art by which the writer presents him as, one
after another, his possessions are taken from
him, and his friends discuss with him the
great problem that vexes him, with all the
machinery of. dialogues between the Al-
mighty and Satan, and the Almighty and Job
himself, surpasses all the art of later times.
Such imaginations and such descriptions,
such conversations and arguments, such
marvelous characterizations as are to be found
in this great book can be found nowhere else
in the whole range of literature. It is a book
that has commanded the admiration as well
as the profound reverence of the greatest
men who have ever lived, and it is a novel in
all its essential features, even though we call
it a poem.
The book of Revelations is a novel, so far
as it is an attempt to convey the truth
through typical forms and scenes and events.
It is no record of facts, but a panoramic
representation of conceptions born in, and
addressed to, the imagination. In short, it is
a creation of art—whatevermay be the origin,
whether divine or human—by which certain
great, shadowy thoughts and ideas are at-
tempted to be represented to the mental ap-
prehensions or the faith of men. There are
many devout believers in the aspiration of the
ancient Scriptures who regard the story of
the creation and the fall of Adam, rehears-
ed in the Book of Genesis, as anything but a
literal representation :of historic facts. The
essential truth is in the narrative, but it is
represented in such a way that the simplest
mind can apprehend and make use of it. The
Song of Solomon is a very exquisite essay in
the art of fiction. If the books of Esther are
historical, they are certainly nothing to us
but stories with morals and very strong and
beautiful stories they are. The names of
Ahasucrus and Mordecai, and {Human and
Esther are nothing but names to the present
reading world, which mean no more than
those of Daniel Deronda and Ralph Nickleby
and Clarissa Harlowe. :15an and Ruth might»
be Abelard and Heloise, or any other lovers.
The two stories are to us simply stories,
having no significance particularly form of
art they convey to us the moral lessons With
which they are charged.
Kate Field as “Young America.”
I asked an English lady who had been to a
“swell” fancy ball, who it was that took the
“shine” off of everybody else in- the way of
costume. She replied that it was “Young
America” who 'attractcd the mostZattention.
To begin at the dancing part, the lady was
dressed in blue satin boots, with silver but-
tons. White satin skirt (short), over which
was gracefully draped a silk American flag,
caught up at one side by a metal eagle. The
bodies was blue silk covered with silver stars
over which she wore a very effective metal
cuirass, on the front of which was the Amer-
ican shield, the eagle coming out beautifully.
For ornaments she wore bracelets, and neck-
lace of gold dollars, very neatly made. On
her head she wore a crown of 13 stars in
brilliants, the hair being down the back. I
felt a natural curiosity to know who this
strikingfigure of the ball-room was,and found
it to be‘Kate Field. And the costume which
was so much admired was designed by her-
self; The necklace was made in Paris to or-
der.-—Lon(lon Letter to the Hartford Com-(mt.
_____——
llackensack is in a commotion over the sud-
den marriage of Miss Sarah Herring, daugh-
ter of Hackensack’s wealthy sheriff, to
Charles Fouruyer. a coachman in the employ
of her father. The ceremony was performed
yesterday by Dominc Duran, minister of the
Protest ant Church;
The Count dc Chambord, known as an as-
pirant for the throne of France under the title
of Henri V., has bought a small island in the
Eastern Mediterranean for his winter resi-
dence, where he can be monarch of 'all he
surveys, with no one to dispute his title.
Col. Valentine Baker, having once been
ostracised by English high society, has
been received into its arms again, having
recently bccn given a semi public dinner by
the Duke of Sutherland, at which two repre-
sentatives of royalty were present, the
Duke of Teck and Prince Edward of Saxe
Weimer. .
Dr. Hunton, the Chicago medium, who re-
ccntly. gave the business. away and explained
how be practiced the tmposture says: “If
persons who go to consult mediums will take
precautions not to allow the mediums to learn
their history, and then Will take care not to
‘wivc themselves away’ while with the med-
iIrms, they will receive no such manifestations,
as have been spoken of.”
down the mountainsfia-nd 'hc know’d'what .
late that we was tearlu’- down with any subh‘ , ,
Suppose they had stayed with the oil car? '
it was happening? Well, from the tiine we .
"Insure mnvrursm Iokllll. .
iv
The Second olden Paper in the sung. ,
armor: IN GAZETTE BUILDING.
A. H. BYINGTON .52 co:-'
A. II. Bvrucron, J. B. Em, G. N. Elms.
Subscription $2.00 per year, in advance.
Single Copies 5 Cents.
.___+_._
Advertising Rates :
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One Squarc,one insertion, -’ ------ l 00
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One Square, Six Months, - - - ----- 7 00
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TWO ‘6 0‘ l‘ (d ‘l _ - _ 2Loo
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Quarter of aOolumn, one time, - - .- - - 6 00
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One inch space constitutes a square. ‘
Special Notices 25 per cent. advaucéaéntlle
above. - 1's ? '
Local Notices in Reading'Columns, 25
Cents per line.
Yearly advertisers restricted to the business
contemplated at the time of contract, but are per-
mitted to make monthly ch mgesof‘ their adver-
tisements. . . ~ *
Marriages and deaths inserted- gratuimusly.
Obituary‘oi’ Funeral Notices 15 cts. per line.
Allum’lsual cuts and devices 25 per cent. extra.
ALEX, S. GIBSON,
Organist of the First Congregational Church .
Teacher of
Plano-Forte, Organ and illusion] '
' Compelltlon.
Box 379 P. 0., NORWALK, CONN.
J. Belden Hurlbutt,
litany all Counsellor at Law,
Boom No.4, [up stair-,l
GAZETTE BUILDING.
CHARLES W. MANY,
Surgeon Dentist,
NORWALK, CONN.
Ofilcc corner of Main and Wall Streets. Nitrous-
Oxide Gas administered .
C. B. COOLIDGE,
DENTIST.
Successor to
Dr. ‘Asa. Hill,
WALL STREET, NORWALK,
' Office over
0. J. Gruman’s‘ Dry Goods Store.
I3“ Gas administered for extracting teeth with-
out pain.
DENTISTRY
A T HARD TIMES PR1 0E8,
For Cash — No Credit 3
All work excuted in the Best Manner. at my office
Corner of Main and Washington Streets,
SOUTII NORWALK, CONN.
T. E. SWIFT, l). D. S.
S .! W.MI’I‘CHELL,
C
At the ever popular
UNION MARKET
has always the best of
Beer, Veal, Mutton, and Pork,
at tairlivingpriccs. Union (formerly Model) Mar-
ket, on the Bridge. 18
nannies s. Locrnvoon,
Fashionable llldllfll and TailorI
AND
GEN T S’ FURNISHING EMPORIUM.
Main Street,Norwalk. Conn.
ED‘VARD P. WEED,
I) R U G- G- I S '1‘
,Wall Street,oppositc Norwalk Opera House,
A large and well selected stock of
DRUGS AN D MEDICINES,
Perfumery, Patent Medicines, all kinds Mineral
Waters, l‘oilet and Medicated Soaps. Flavoring
and Handkerchief Extracss, Hairllrushes,Combs,
Sponges,0hamois5kins, Stationery. Cigars, &c.,
and is constantly adding to his stock all the new
and popular medicines ofthe day.
NORWA LIK INSURANCE 00.,
A'ORIVALIf, CONN.
Charter Capital - - - $500,000
Paid up Capital - - - - 100,000
WM.C.SEREET.I’res., Gno R.Cowr.ns,Scc’y.
ETNA INSURANCE Co. ofHARTFORD.
Incorporated 1812.
Capltal and Assets, $6,716,893.77
Insuresagainst loss am] damage by Fir-emu terms
adopted to the hazard andconsistcnt with the laws
of compensation. COWLES .b MERRILL,
Sole Agentstor Norwalk and vicinity.
WM. C. BITTER
Havtng taken the Stable formerly Occupied by
D. A. N IGWCOMB,on Ho t Street,would announce
to the citizens ot’Norwa 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. -
lA specialty ofCoaches for Weddings and F-iner-
s.
a
Carriages run to all trains on N. Y.,N. II. ILR
Orders can be left at Connecticut 11010! or at the
Stables on Hoyt Street. 311149
areas: it. RAYMOND,
Furnishing Undertaker,
No. 53 BIAIN STREET, (Up Stairs.)
B. S. BLASCER.
At his store in
MALLOR‘Y’S BLOCK,
hasconstantly on hand, a general assortment o
Groceries, Crockery, Glass,
'Iin and Wooden Ware, Etc.
Dy devotinghis constantp’qrsonalattentionto tho
bustness he hopes to merit public patronage
- the late . ohu W. Taylor. Westport, Conn. Loca-
Charter Perpetual. ._
o RENE—Within one,mile of town. one
' . tract, 40 acres Pasture Land, well “Watered.
. .ltpll. _ CHARLES 11.. ST. JOHN.
_ ‘ , For sale;
Ali-BEAT BARGAIN.
on SALE CHEAP FOR CASHH Ovcr Five
Acres of one of the most dcsirnbe ropertles
in Norwalk. centrally located on llné oi’ltorwalk
Horse Railway 00. Price $10,000, .0013: 920.000.
Apply to JAMES W. HYATT, Nor-walk or
nanny B. LOCAWOOD,N0. 2 New
14
New Stre t
York City. e '
To Rent.
OUSE on cresl’ road from above Benedict’s
Hat Shop to turnpike. to rent low to a good
tenant. Apply to E. J. HILL. 2:12
lllElll STl’BlE AT .80. NORWAlK
“503 SALE 01! T0 BENT. Inquire of
I). R. AUSTIN.
To Let.
TIIE'rcsldcnce of the late Capt. Abijnh Betti.
With or without home lot. it ls situated on
the Kent road. Wilton, and in a desirable local-
ity. Possession given April lst. Terms moderate
Enquire upon the premises of Mrs, O. M. Gregory
or of DR. J. G. GREGORY, Norwalk, Conn. 2t
Stores to Rent.
HE old and well-knbwn business stand for-
max] occupied as a Drug and Book store by
tron eligible, good collar. with two rooms on sec-
ond floor connecting With store, which contains
first class fixturcsnnd large,handsome show win-
dows, protected by permanent awning. Suitable
for any respectable business. ltent only $200 per
annum. Twolrontrooms on second floor ofsamc
building suitable for offices, to rentfor 840 per an-
nnm. 'Also the small store adjoining. formerly
occupied b the Town ofilces, With good fixtures
andlargc 5 low Window. Rent $100 per unnum.
Stone posts and flagged sidewalksin front of both
stores. Inquire of lessrs. Taylor & Richards.
opposite, or of M rs. John W. Taylor, at residence
on lull near the store. 10
To Rent.
The second floor of a house on the east side of
West Avenue, near the 2d ME. Church, to asmall
family. Borough water. Apply at the GAZETTE
Orrrcn.
A. GOOD PLACE
FOR LITTLE MONEY.
CHEAP, RENT.
House contains eight rooms.
Small Barn.
. Good Garden.
Fine Orchard.
Borough Water.
Plenty of Green Grass.
Abundance 01 Yard in front of House.
On the main road between Nor-walk and Winni-
pauk, a. few feet from head of Main Street, thence
good walks to the Bridge.
Will be rented very. low to a good tenant who
Elli take good care of the place. Alpply to
~ . L
. ELLS.
To Let.
Two Nicely Furnished Houses.
ONE 3 Cottage, neatly furnished. with Hot and
. Cold'Watcr, Bath, kc. The other richl tur-
nlshcd, Will be rented to parties without chi dren
only. Both centrally located, and will be rented
to ( eslrnble parties at a low rent. Enquire It the
GAZETTE OFFICE.
FARMS. F01: SALE.
Enquire of
CHAS. COMSTOCK,
It New Canaan, Conn.
[I “(IL—A nice Second Floor, consisting of five
. rooms; good well; otherwater in the house;
privilege'of garden. A ply to GEO.H.RIOE,
Spring Bill, or A. II, no 'T & CO‘S., Shoe Store.
To Rent.
THE Jarvis place, the whole house or by
apartments, as desired. Apply to
10 J. W. McLEAN,M. D.
I. To Rent.
ESIRABIE Suites of Rooms. for Office: or
Families. Also, the large Brick Building on
Water Street, with Engine and Boiler, suitable
for Manufacturing I’ur uses.
F.ST.JOHN L0 KWOOD, Executor
6 for Estate of Wm. K. James, deceased.
Barn to Let.
POSSESSION immediately. enquire of
CEO. 0. KEELER.
To Let.
The Property in the rear of the Fair-
field County National Bank, -
formerly occupied by Price £5 Bates. suitable for
manufacturing purposes. Also Barn on High St.
50tf E. B. PRICE.
Long Island Real Estate
For Sale.
I HAVE :1 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 Norwalk property.
For-furthcrparticulars apply to
1y7 J. S. RANDALL.
Desirable Property For Sale.—
TIIE Homestead formerly owned and now 02-
cupied by John Roberts. For articulars en-
quire of CHAS. H. STR ‘E'l‘.
Fairfield Co. National Bank.
Farm for Sale.
A DW ELLIXG HOUSE situated intlle Borough
of Norwalk. With or without twenty-eight
acres of land: said land is suitably divided into
pasture, wood, plow and meadow land. For fur-
ther mlormation apply at this Office, orot‘tho sub-
scriber. HARVEY FlTCH.
Nor-walk, January llth, 1878. 3
For Sale Cheap, ”
Or Exchange for other property,
One of the neatest.and cosicst little Cottages in
the Borough. Will sell to a good tenant for little
g‘i-Igtémoney down. Enquire at GAZETTE OF.
.
Desn'able Property for sale.
A Verydesirable place on E_ast Avenue.
Also, a few chorce BuildingLotssituatcd on
Osborn Avenue, for sale cheap.
. Also.a nicely located House and Lot on Mer-
win Street near West Avenue, for sale at a bar-
gain. Enquire of
S. E. OSBORN. EastAvcnue,
ml or to D.W.FITCH. West Avenue.
For Sale.
5—: A House and Lot. in a healthy location on
@ FairStrcet,abovc Catharine. The Houseis
= nearly newnvellbutlt,convenientlyarrang-
ed. and will make a comfortable and 10.9mm
home fora family of average size. he or runs
back to the river. There isawell of excellent
water on the place, and Borough water in the
Street. Price low. and part of the money can re-
main on mortgage. A line chance to secures
home. ApplyatGAZETTEOFFICE. 3t!
- Dr. C. 11. Kendall & Son,
DENTISTS.
Are now prepar-
‘ ed to r e c c l v e
- their patrons at
either Norwaik
Bridge or South
Nor-walk. The
' partner
has taken rooms
0 v c r Selleck's
Bookstore ‘Nor—
. walk. while the
junio r retains
the old ofilcc. Lander’s Block. South N orwalk.
chth extracted without ham. and all dental ope-
rations performed nt. either office.
0.11. KENDALL, M.D..
G. s. KuNDALL, D. D. s.
P. S. Dr. C. II. Kendall wrll devote Mondays to
Ridgctleld.
C. W. Bdrritt
Has Removed
To No. 4: Pllwnix BIOCk, Wall St.,
Footof Mill Ilill,\vhcre with increased facilitietl
he is prepared to do
P 1'.- ‘U' M B I N G- ,
in allits branches. Also special attention lvcn
to 'l‘in ltoofing,’l‘in and SheetlronWork an Job-
bing. Gas Fixtures of all kinds kept on hand.
Norwalk, April. 1876.
Shipping and llelclallise Tall,
Printed or Plain
By the Dozen or. Thousand, at Manufacturers
Prices, at the
GAZETTE OFFICE. .
END‘ZSC. to Gso. e. ROWELL & Co.,N_cw
York, for Pamphlet of 100 pages, containing
lists of 3.000 newspapers, and estimates showing
cost ofadvertlsingl
FOR SALE.
IIIWO verydesirablelluildinnLotson WestMaln
Street. Apply at the GAZETTE OFFICE .
cross: warn sensor,
has constantly in stock at his new store,
No. 9 Main Stréet,
a choice and fine assortment of
are oer-i cs ,
Provisions,
I Flour,
Fruit, «20. ,
To which he would invite the attention ot‘all who
wish to purchase firsnclass goods at
Reasonable Price.
DRIED BEEF. SLICED. A SPECIALIY.
BESTO] HA‘rlIgllfllg‘IyDfl'R WHOLE OR
Drop in and see him at his new store
V10. 9 MAIN STREET.
TONSORIAL ,!
NE of the most prominent features of a well
0 conducted Bar or Shop, is Cleanliness, then
Competence in the Artist, and strict attention to
business. You will find allthesc combined on a
visit to the
hotel Hair. Dressing Balms.
It your head is full of Dandrufi’; if your halrls
falling 00'. n
E . A P E I.- Ia _
. Ilas got it Sure Cure
Ladies and Children Hair Cut and
Shampoocd
in the Most Approved Stale. Only 15 Cents for a
First—Class s umpoo. all and. give us a trial.
E‘Wall St., Up Stairs, 2d Door from Post Office.
~ elry Store, Clark and Lane’s Block, nearly 0 po‘-
. bCup of Tea, wrt
'at sight, when not in the care of any erson, or
‘ Bantam
' L-inimenta
The wonder of medical science—halt horse and
upon the history ofthe world. ‘
beast, are remarkable in their way. They silo»
been before the public only six years, but in it
time they have performed more wonderful '1? rk.
have alleviated moire-pains anthurcd moré'” edi-l
ridden cripples than have all otherLinimcntgfllm';'
brocations, Extracts, Salyeg and/Ointment'lin' :8
istencc. Their immense and rapidly-inc '11;
which they are held. 'lhcy are already used in
- many of the hospitals of this-country and Europe.
and are prescribed by the best physicians and vet-
erinary surgeons. Why should they not be ?
They have never failed to ameliorate Indexing
siblc. They contain Catholic, Witch uaz'élmtci
on. Arnica and ingredients which must man to
the fluids, soften the stance and penetrate 'to he-
bone. We have never yet heard of the first fail-
ure to benefit. even in stubborn cases ol‘Rhcuma-
tism, Sciatica, and Neuralgia, while, for Flesh
Wounds, Bites, Frosted Limbs,Burns, Cutaneous
Eruptions, etc., they are unfailing. What the
White Centaur Liniment is for. the hu-
man frame, the Yellow Centaur Llnlment
is for horses and animals. 'We will guarantee that
one dollar expended for Centaur Llnlmcul
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. Be sure and inquire for the Cenlnir
Llnlmunu and give them afair trial.
. n.3, ROSE a 00., 46 Dev $1.. an Yonx.
Mothers,
. There isa harmless and certainjcmedy for
your children. Castomk is the uplift-of twenty
years’ experiments by the celebrated Samuel
Pitcher, M. D. ' . — .
It is a vegetable preparation, as efi‘ective'alCas-
tor Oil, but perfectly pleasant to the taste. It
can be taken by the youngest infant, and neither
gagsnor gripes. Dr. A. J. Green, of Roy'éton
Indiana, says of it: - '
Sins :—I_have tljied the CASTORIA. and-can speak
highly of its merits. It will do away withCnstor
01 . t is pleasant and harmless, and‘is ’w0ndcr-
fully efficacious as an aperient and laxative. It
:3 the very thing. ' ‘ ‘
The Casroma destroys worms, regulates the
Stomach. cures Wind Colic, and permits of nat-
ural healthy sleep. It is very efficacious in Group
anter to the taste, and Castor Oil is not so certain
Stud J. B. ROSE & 00., NewYork. 5,
, ‘Free Reading ‘ Room. i
T111313 a comfortable room fitted up for the
‘ benefit of the public generally, situated on
east side of South Main Street. over Road’s Jew-
site Railroad Depot, South Noxwalk, Ct. t is
open from 9 a. m., to 9:45 p. m. The room is well
lighted, warm .and comfortable. It is supplied
With four dailies, two weeklies. and several
monthly papers and journals. beside a number
of instructlve and interesting books.
COFFEE ROOM.
There is a Cofi'ce Room on the same floor and a
lady in attendance from 9a. m., to 9:45 p. m., to
serve HOME MADE articles mentioned below,
at the following prices :
1 Cup of Coffee. ith m- chars. . _
crac 5 Cq‘llfi
BIB. ~ - '.
J
ocoa, - - - -
Brown Bread and Butter, - -
Sandwich.
t‘akc,
Doughnuts, - - ~ -
Piece ol'l’ic, - -
Crullers, - - - -
Ham, - -
Pork and Beans, With bread
Stewed Oysters, - -
and butter, 10
- l5
18,78.
EVERYTHING
DOWN TO HARD PAN.
GBOGFBIFS, ,
VEGETABLES, _
FRESH FISH,
FRUITS, 850.,
AT THE
Very Lowest Market Rates. _
A full assortment constantly on hand, freshly re-
plenished every day, with
Ghoicest Pruits,Bcst Vegetables,
and Sea. Food.
Goods delivered in anypart ofioWn. Leavoyo'ur
orders freely with
Dem-man &' Newcomb,
53 Main Street, Norwalk.
William Hindley,
THEODORE E. SMITH,
DEALER IN
Hardware, Cutlery,
A ND
AGRICULTURAL IIMPLEMENTS.
WALL‘PAPER,‘WINDOW SHADES. PAINTS,
OILS, GLASS, SASH, BLINDS & DOORS.
Main St, Nor-walk, Conn.
5103’ FA INTING, PAPER HANGING, tee,
Pianos for Sale.
One New Weber and One New
Chlckcrmg Pianos, ’
AKEN in exchange for other property,willbc
sold at a great sacrifice. For particulars
address immediately or en ulre of
ll GEO.R. CHOL VELLJIigh Street.
Notice.
ALL persons applied fo by tramps for meals
will please not furnish. but direct them to the
TILAMP HOUSE, situated at Norwalk. adjoining
the lock-up.\vllerc they W1" be supplied with but
soup and work. The public are cautioned against
believing any of the stories that the tramps may
put forth in regard to theirnot being properlyfcd,
as the authorities having the matter in charge
propose to feed this class ofpcoplc according to
"’° e"“"“°‘i€¥i§l€ifi$*§hr Lscr ‘
. t . . \, ‘
CHARLES W. sultan} ”cmmm'
Norwalk, Feb. 25th, lSlS.
MAD DOGS AT LARGE!
Citizens Beware.
.—
NOTICE !
WHEREAS,.seveml mad dogs have been run-
ning at large in several of the towns of Fair-
flel-l County, and have attacked and bitten several
persons. as well as many other dogs, and the cit-
izens being greatly alarmed on account ul such
does at large, and '
’nnksas, the undersigned, Justices of the
Peace resittinig in the town of No_rwalk.believe
that the persons and lives of the inhabitants ot
the town are insecure, therefore .
Notice is hereby given that from this datc,all
persons who ma be now or hereafter the owners
or custodians 0 any dogpr dogs, shall forthwrth
secure them against their liability to do public
harm.oithcr by confining or muzzlmg them until
the first day of May next, and any dog found mad
or running at large and unruuzzled may be killed
found on’ the premises of its own er, on
son, who. havmg a dog, shall tail forthwith to
comply with the above notice, will be subjected to
forfeit of $7.00 and costs of prosecution.
Notice hereof shall be given by posting a copy
hereof on each public sign post in the town of
Norwalk, and by publishing the same in the Non-
\VALK GAZETTE and South N orwnlk Sentinel,
any per-
newspapers ubllshed in said town.
DDiid‘letl‘ at orwalk, this 8th day of February, A.
" ' F. w. PERRY. Justices of
j E. W.STUART, the Peace.
haltbeast—the fabled Contacts left their tropics; . -
The Centaur Llnlncnu, for man £6
sale lsindlsputablccvldence of'thchcstimation' in .
when cure from loss of bone or ‘nin'sclc arctmpios- -
and for Teething Children. Honey is not pleas- '
in its efi'ects. It costs b11135 cents, in large bottled.
“wan run rs rr To an. savnn It so on
IS LOST."
By mu 0mm.
——1
There’s cocha’sing'lar doctrine, Sue
Into our church to-day; .
These cur’us words are what the new
_ Young’preachervhad to say:
That h'leral everlastia’ fire
. Was mostly in our eye ;
That sinners dead, if they desire
Can get another try. '
He doubted if a warmer clime
Than this world could be proved ;
I. The little snip—I fear some time
.He’ll get his doubts removed.
I’ve watched my duty, straight an’ true,
, And tried to do it well;
- Part of the time kept heaven in view,
An’ part steered clear 0’ hell:
An’ new ball of this work is nought,
If I must list to him, _
An’ this ’ere devil I have fought
. Was only just a- whim;
Vainare the dangers I have braved,
The sacrificgathey cost;
For whattfun is it to bcvsaved,
If no one else is lost!
Just think—Suppose when once I view
The heaven I've toiled to win,
A lot of unsaved sinners, too.
Come walkin’ grandly in !
An’tgcjt's to home, same as if they
find read there titles clear,
Anfl'ooks at me, as if to say,
’ffWe’re glad to see you here!”
As Flute say. “While you have be‘n
So fast to toe the mark,
We waited till it rained, and then
Got tickets for the ark l"
Yet there would be some in that crowd
I’d rather like to see; '
My boy Jack—it must be ’lowed,
There was no worse than he!
. I’ve always felt somewhat to blame,
In several different ways
That he lay down on thorns o’ shame
To end hisboyhood's days;
An’ I’d be willin’ to endure,
If that the Lord thought best,
A minute’s quite hot temperature,
To clasp him to my breast.
OldCaptain Barnes was evil’s son—
With hetrodoxylcrammed ,
I'used to think he’d be the one
'If any one was damned;
Still, When I saw a lot 0’ poor,
That he had clothed and fed,
Cry desoltaely round his door
As soon as he was dead,
There came a thoughtI could’nt control,
That in some neutral land,
I’d like to meet that scorched up soul,
An’ shake it by the hand.
Poor J ennie Willis, with a cry
01' hopeless, saddistress,
Sank sudden down, one night, to die,
All in her ball-room dress;
She had a preciouslittlc ‘wh’ile
To pack up an’ away;
She even left her sweet good smile—-
‘dedon the face next day;
Her soul went off unclothed by even
One stitch of saving grace .
‘How could she hope to go to heaven,
Au’ start from such a place?
But once, when I lay sick an’ weak,
She came, an’ begged to stay;
She kissedmy been. ...:-u... cinch—
She soothed my pain away;
She brought me sweet bouquets of flowers
As fresh as her young heart—
Through many long an' tedious hours
She played a Christian part;
An’ when ere' long I stan’ aroun’
The singin’ saints among,
I’ll try' to take some water down,
To cool poor Jennie's tongue.
But tears can never quench my creed,
. Nor smooth God’s righteous frown.
Though all th‘e‘preachers learn to read
Their Bibles upside down.
I hold mine right side up with care
To shield my eyes from sin.
An’ coax the Lord with daily prayer,
To all poor wanderers in;
But if the sinners won’t draw nigh,
A 11’ take salvation’s plan,
I’ll have to stand an"sce ’em try
To dodge hell if they can.
a
BEYOND.
A flush on all the hills is spread—
A flush of death and beauty born;
As day, upon a crimson bed,
Lies down to slumber till the morn.
The touch of death is in the air,
I feel its fingers’ icy chill :
And yet a smile, divinely fair,
When I would weep, forbids me still.
The clouds are 'ny, the winds are cold,
The dead leave! rustle at my feet ;
And on the brown, deserted wold
Their fitful eddies whirl and meet.
But through this veil of wasting life
A fresher dawn of life I see—
My yesterdays with pain were rife,
To-morrow still is bright to me.
And so the dying year shall seem,
The gorgeous portal of a fanc,
Where all the heart hath dared to dream
Shall burst upon its sight again.
And dullest clouds to splendor turn,
And coldest wrndsxto tropic breath;
Till the rapt soul shall pant and burn
To feel the waking touch of Death.
. —-.01d. .Magaetg'ne. -
CHILDREN.
DY H. W. LONGFELLOW.
Come to me, 0 ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that'perplex me '
Have vanished quite, away.
Ye open the eastern windows,
That looked toward the sun,
Where thoughts are singing swallows
And the brooks of morning run.
In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine.
In your thoughts the brooklet’s flow _:
But in mine is the wind of autumn,
And the first fall of the snow.
Ah! what Would the world be to us
If the children were no more !
We should dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.
What the leaves are to the forest,
With light and air for food, '
Ere their sweet and ttnder juices
'Havc been hardened into wood.
That to the world are children;
Through them it feels the glow
Of a brighter and sunnier climate
That reaches the trunks below.
Come to me, 0 ye children!
And whisper in my car
What thc'birds and the winds are singing
In your sunny atmosphere. ’
For what are all our contriviugs,
And the wisdom of our books,
When compared with your caresses ?
And the gladness of yourlooks ?
Ye are better than all~the ballads
That were ever sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are lead.
i CLOSED ON SUNDAYS. “9“
l
. .‘m A_.2mmm-"
Norwalk Chronicler