\“ SUBSTITUTION ~ .. the FRAUD of the daY. See you get Carter’s, Ask for Carters, Inelst and demand , Carter's LiIIle Liver Pills? ' The only~ perfect Liver Pill. Take no other, Even if Solicited to do so. Beware-of imitations of Same Color Wrapper, RED. "GSTETTERS W1s LIFE cELEBnATeu UTE] ILlVlllg? Settled Iby those who eliminate Diseases of the LII/ER ilh theBitters A buoyant step, a clear head, and alight heart add a zest to life. STOMACI-I ITTERS answer's ‘ «: 1111111111126 * B Cures CORNS, BUNIONS and WARIS SPEEDILY and WITHOUT PAIN. ‘ FOR. SALE BY ALL DBUGGISTS. MEI-MAN BROTHERS, Prap'rs, Llppman’s Block, SAVANNAH, GA. 3 . a speedy . g cure for WWW“ the ' MALE”3 3 most 3 111nm obsti- nate 11111111011111 3 AND TAR Hale's Honey of Borehound and Tar 3 acts like magic for a cough or any throat : or bronchial trouble. Askyour druggist. : cough. ‘ It cannot - fail VVVVvvvvvvvvvvVVVVvvvvV'vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv'v'v'Vvvvvvvvv'vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Pike’ 3 Toothache Drops cure in one minute. EWA YORK. NDEW HAVEN & HARTFOLD I—NIAW DYonx DIVISION. October 3, 1897. Trains leave South Norwalk as follows: FOR NEW YORK —- Accommodation trains at 9. 36 a. m., 1.11, 3.04, 4.07, 5.33, 6. 41 8.11, 10. 20 . m. Express t1 ains at 4.55, 5.45, 6.15, (local), 6.55, (local), 7.15, (local), 7.56, (local), 8.17, 903 (local) 9.58,10.35, 11.37, (local) 3.. m. 12. 47* 2. 25:- 5. 05 5. 55, 7. 35 p. m. For Washing ton via Harlem River 12. 53 a. m. (daily) SUNDAYS—Accommodation 9.15 a. m. _.5 43, (local), 7. 23, (local) 9.28 p. 11].. Ex press 4.55, 5.45 a.m FOR NEW HAVEN AND THE EAST—— Accommodation trains at 6. 32, 7.42, 8.46 and 1L42 a. m., 1.37, 2.42, (to B’p’t), 4.,20 5.,27 6.,27 728(toB",pt) 8.41, 9.41 and 11.15 p. m. Express trains at 1.11, ~120, 9.11,10.12,11.08 a. m 12.,02 3.,05 5.04 (Naugatuck Express) 1.10 p. m. SUNDAYS—Accommodation 7.42, 9.12 a. m. and 7.15 p. m. Exp1ess 1.11 and 1.20 a. m. C. T. HEMPSTEAD, Gen. Pass. Agent. HALE LUISE'G BALSAM 5," 25C. ‘ Ask Your Druggist- '“rde-UIH 1011 11:5 3111111111 PPR“ Stores andtfamilies supplied. Lowest rat-es. ' I'ELL'S a co., 11 1 North Ave. ' INorwalk. I 1 a year, wnnxnre ’l‘llEELDER’S CHOICE. Greenwood was in a flutter 01 c3;- citement’, and any one at all acquaint- ed with the qriet town would not have wondered at it. The little white church, with its green blinds and tall belfry, had been Closed for more than except on rare occasions when old Deacon Ramsey conducted a meet- ing. or a few devoted members joined in holding an evening service; Since good Elder Damson had passed to his reward no one had been called to fill his place. But now the new minister Elder Pottle, had come, and this was his first Sabbath among the people 01 G1eenucod since his installation The congiegation had listened de- voutly to the sermon, and as the peo- ple wended their way homeward, thc~ _theme of their conversation was the ladies’ sewing circle, which, as the new minister had announced, would meet the following Tuesday with Miss Abby Brown. Miss Abby Brown, or “Aunt Nabby," as she was familiarly known, lived in an old farmhouse not far from the center of the town; many a sewing cir- cle, husking bee and quilting party had been held there, and it was with great delight that the people. antici- pated a renewal of these festivities. The following day was a busy one for Greenwood. Hurried calls, savored with bits of gossip, were in order, and kitchens steamed with the fragrance of pics and cake. The season of sew- ing bees was to be inaugurated in a bounteous manner, and Aunt Nabby declared that she would do her share if she had to sit up all night to dc it. “But I tell you what, Aunt Nabby," remarked Sister Simpkins, who had just stepped in to rest a minute on he1 way to the village store, “the new minister preached a powerful sermon last Sunday. Some folks say they don’t believe he can be beat in this part of the country. I thought his ser‘ 111011 was real smart myself, but I couldn’t help noticin’ how often he looked toward the Widder Hopkins' pew. It seems to me she’s pretty pert “for a woman of her years, and Elder Pottle ain’t the first man she’s set her cap for since the deacon died.” ' “Mercy sakes, Sister Simpkins, re turned Aunt Nabby, “the widow’s old enough to be the elder’s mother, al- lowing he is a widower; and then again, just as if he had any sucl: thoughts, and his wife not dead a year. '” “Well, mebbe I’m mistaken, but stranger things than that have hap- pened. I, for one, am sorry the eld- er’s wife couldn’t have lived to come tc Greenwood with him.” “Sakes alive!” repeated Aunt Nabby when his visitor had departed. “Just as if the new minister was thinking or Mis’ Deacon Hopkins when he preach- ed that beautiful sermon! I do hope Sister Simpkins won’t tell it anywhere else. She always was dreadful newsy.‘ The eventful Tuesday dawned bright and clear, a. typical New England au- tumn day. The early frost had tinted the leaves of the maple trees in front of the old farmhouse, and in a. blaze 0) yellow and gold they rustled musically over the heads of merry maids and so date matrons as they wended their way to Aunt Nabby’s hospitable door. Within the large and homelike rooms Aunt Nabby hustled about greet ing her guests with a kindly smile and the injunction to “put your cake and pies right in on the pantry shelves,’ which they did, until the shelves fair- ly groaned with their weight. Truly the sewing circle had opened auspiciously. Nimble fingers kept time with busy tongues as the women plied their needles and thread. “I declare it does beat all, the way some people act,” exclaimed Mist Simpkins, bending over her sewing 3! “Making so bold to attract attention,\ and they old enough to know better!" “Why, what do you mean, Sistei Simpkins?” inquired Aunt Nabby in surprise. “I mean just what I say. Are y01. stone blind that you don’t. see the way Widder Hopkins is carrying on? ’Twas only this morning that I saw her go way across the street to speak to our new minister,- and' here's the afternoor. pretty nigh gone, and she ain’t been here to set a stitch yet, and she a. church member.” “Oh, probably something’s hindered her. I’ve no doubt she’ll come by-and by.” ‘ “Yes, this evenin’, mebbe, about th! time he gets here.” “Oh, well, Sister Simpkins, I really think it will turn out all right, and l Wouldmt mind if I were you. ” “Wouldn’t mind!” exclaimed Miss Simpkins, indignantly. “Why, Abby Brown, I hope you don’t think I care! No, indeed, not 1! It’s nothin’s tome of course; but as a member of the church I can’t approve of all I see.’ And the speaker bent to her work wit]: so much energy that she put tht needle through her finger instead 0: the cloth, and broke the thread with a snap, while poor Aunt Nabby lookec distressed as she saw how vain hac been her effort to soothe her troubled. spirit. 1' Meanwhile the Widow Hopkins we: in a distant part of the town, kindly ministering to poor old Mrs. Smith who had been confined to her bed f0: months. Indeed, it was in her behal‘. that Mrs. Hopkins had’ crossed thI street that morning to speak to 1211!. minister. And now, as he entered th1 Smith’s cottage, bringing the medi' cine which she had asked him to pro cure, a bright smile lighted up her. face. “So very kind of you, Elder Pottle to get this for us, and saving me sucl a long walk” “,Yes Elder Pottle,” faintly adder poor Mrs. Smith, “beside giving Mrs Hopkins so much extra time with me _'Dh, I know, the. Lord will be gOOth ”claimed, laughing. her, for she has been good to me, All day she has staid here, and this the afternoon. of the sewing circle, too, and I’m sure they are looking for her there this very minute.” The conversation then turned to the sewing circle, Eldei Pottle remarking that he did not remember having met Miss Abby B1 own although her name sounded very familiar to him. “I have heard my sister say,” said he, “that several years ago, when she was teaching school in some New England town, . she fell ill at the house of a Mrs. Brown, with whom she was boarding, and to the untiring care of Mrs. Brown and her daughter Abby, to whom she be- came very much attached, she owed her recovery. The friendship was continued, I think, until the death 01 my sister in the West, two years ago. I ‘have been thinking that the Miss Brown who lives here may be the same Abby’ for whom my sister en- tertained such strong regard. “Several of our village school teach- ers boarded with Mrs. Brown previous to her death,” said Mrs. Hopkins, “and I have no doubt that ‘Aunt Nabby’ as we have all learned 'to call her, is the lady of whom you speak. Are you go- ing to her house to tea?” “Yes, such is my intention, for I am desirous of making her acquaintance.” “Then I’ll introduce you th.s very evening,” exclaimed Mrs. Hopkins. She is one of the dearest old maids you ever saw, Elder Pottle, and 1 know you’ll like her.” It was late in the afternoon when Mis. Hopkins started in the di1ection of Aunt Nabby's, accompanied by the minister, who remarked as he bade her adieu at thevillage post-office,— “I will surely call this evening, Mrs. Hopkins. Do not forget your prom- ise.” “Oh, never fear! Elder I’ottle.” Hurrying on her way she met little Elsie Jon‘es,- who greeted herflwithr— “Mammals real sick and I’ve just been after the doctor, Mrs. Hopkins. Won’t you come in and see her just a minute?” Taking the child’s hand the kindly widow went on her errand of mercy, little thinking that the words which passed between her and Elder Pottle had been overheard by one of the “so— ciety,” and were now being carried without delay to the sewing circle. “What do you think?" breathlessly exclaimed Mrs. Roberts, as she rushed into the-presence of the “sisters.” “As I was on my way here I overtook Mrs. Hopkins and our new minister, and when she left him at the post-office I heard him say he would call on her to—night, and that she must not forget her promise!" “There! I told you so!” Miss Simpkins, while several inquired—— “What did she say, .Mrs. Roberts?” “Why, that she would surely keep her word, and she has gone off up Oak Street with little Elsie Jones. and I came right over here. I should have been earlier, but I have had company all the afternoon. But I’m beat about Widow Hopkins.” “The port thing! and she nigh on to fifty if she is a day!” spitefully re- marked Miss Simpkins. An hour later Mrs. Hopkins, bright and rosy, appeared at Aunt Nabby’s. “There, I’m here at last!” she ex- “Dear me! if only time would wait for us poor mortals to do all we would like to do!" “Why, what has kept you so late, Sister Hopkins?” inquired Miss Simp- kins, glancing significantly at the'oth- ers. “Oh, I have been making sick calls, ” returned the widow; and proceeded to relate 'her day’s experi- ence. “Poor thing! You must be all tired out,” said Aunt Nabby, sympathetic- ally, while a contemptuous sniff from Miss Simpkins was plainly audible. As darkness approached the sewing was put aside, lights appeared,‘and the young people and some of the male members of the society began to arrive among them the new minister. The widow kept her word and in« troduced him to Aunt Nabby, and as soon as the opportunity came she brought them together in a corner and related the story of Elder Pottle’s sis- ter as told to her byhim. “Well, I declare!” exclaimed Aunt Nabby, while her eyes dilated with as- tonishment. “Is it possible that you are James Pottle? I have heard Har- riet speak so many times of her broth- er James, who was studying for the ministry, but I’didn’t think you were be. And poor, dear Harriet! I heard of her death, but tell me all about her, Elder Pottle.”' When the evening was over Elder Pottle declared that Aunt Nabby Brown was really the dearest old maid he ever saw, and to show his grati- tude to Mrs. Hopkins for her part in I’ll keep my word, shrieked women the affair, he escorted her home, which > act so enraged Miss Simpkins that she vowed vengeance on the widow, and made up her mind that matters had tell the older the very next day just what she thought of it. Soon it was noticed that Elder Pcttle called very often on Aunt Nabby—in fact, as Miss Simpkins expressed it, a great deal oftener than he did on any- body else. And indeed those were happy evenings which ‘he spent during the winter at the old farmhouse. And when summer came, and it was an- nounced, that there would be a wed- ding at Miss Abby Brown’s, Miss Simp- kins declared that it was simply scan- dalous, while the Widow Hopkins laughingly maintained that it was she who made the match.- ‘ ' Aunt Nabby’s step grew lighter and her smile brighter, and one day, in conve1 satlon with the Widow Hopkins, she exclaimed—- “And to think that I should meet Harriet Pottle’s brother James and settle right down here in Greenwood! I declare, it does beat all!" then she ' N 0 KW ALE (11A z Err'rn. THE UBIQUITOUS STREET PIANo‘s. How They Are Mada. What They Cost. and What They Earn. . Street pianos, as possibly not every one knows, are in principle a combina- tion of the music box and the upright piano. They are technically called “cylinder-pianos,” and while formerly imported from large factories in Ber- lin and Florence, are now chiefly man< ufactured here. The cylinder, which is turned by the crank, resembles that of a [music box greatly enlarged and made of wood. In transcribing a com- position to this instrument, a. sheet of paper is tightly pasted around the cyl- inder, which is placed in a frame sup- porting a keyboard consisting of small wooden keys, on the under side of which small sharp-pointed bits of steel are screwed. The operator puts the music to be transcribed on a. rack in front of him, and proceeds to play it on the keyboard, carefully revow‘mg the cylinder so as to get the proper in- tervals between the successive notes. This silent music punctures the paper on the cylinder full of holes. Another mechanic now takes the cyl- inder and drives small brass nails in these holes. This was formerly done tediously with a. hammer, but the elder Molinari has greatly simplified and ex- pedited it by a scheme for pressing the nails in with a beam worked with a treadle. The nails protrude about an eighth of an inch, and vary in shape according to the length of the note to be played. Thus a quarter-hotels rep- resented by a nail with a head on it, an eighth-note by a sharp pointed tack, and a succession of sixteenth-notes by a strip of brass toothed like a comb. A half or a whole note resembles a dou- ble-headed carpet tack. On each cylin- der ten tunes are placed, the position of the cylinder being slightly shifted for each tune. Once filled, the cylinder is put into the piano frame, where the nails release the hammer’s, which fly against strings as in a piano. Stree-pianos are rather expensive, considering the sort of capitalists that own them. They vary in price accord- ing to range and brilliance rather than the number of their tunes. A piano with forty h‘ammers costs from $150 to $190. They can be had with forty-four, forty-eight, and even sixty-four ham- mers, these last costing $350. The panoramas which accompany some of them, cost from $10 to $30. Each cyl— inder costs from $40 to $85. Owing to the roughness of their usage, and the short life of popular airs, they require constant tuning and an occasional change of cylinders. How these Italian street musicians- accumulate the necessary capital, it is hard to imagine, but they certainly have the art of living luxuriously upon nothing a. year.' They usually own their piano, and it is very hard to rent one without renting the owners, too. While a decent upright pianoforte can be rented for $4 a month, a street pi- ano costs from $4 to $10 a week—Ru- pert Hughes, in Godey’s Magazine. WHERE PULLMAN GOT HIS START. Simeon Mayor Gave Him Credit for Lum- ber to Build His Sleepers. George M. Pullman received his first real start in life from a man known all over the United States in the lum- ber trade. This man was once one of the largest lumber merchants in the United States. His name is Simeon Mayo. Early in the 60s Pullman was a book- keeper in Chicago, where Mayo was one of the solid men. Mayo knew Pullman’s employer, and thus met the young man when he was struggling with his sleeping car idea. It was then very crude, but Mayo believed in it. Pullman perfected his scheme and wanted to build some cars, but he li'ad not the money to pay for the lumber. Mayo gave him all the credit he want- ed, after Pullman had failed to get it elsewhere. Thus the man who has just died worth millions was able to devel- op the idea that made him rich and carried his name all over the world. It is a coincidence that Mayo em- ployed Lyman J. Gage when he was a young man just getting a. start.—New York Journal. ' A Friendly Bar Examination. A Georgia correspondent sends us ‘this account of a young man's oral ex- amination for the bar by a local com- mittee before an old judge, who was also an old acquaintance of the candi- date: Being asked, “What is arson?” he scratched his head and finally said, "I believe that’s pizon, ain’t it?" On this, the old judge, to help him out, .,says “Tut, tut, Jim. Suppose I were to set fire to your house and burn it down, what would that be?” With quick and emphatic reply, Jim says, “I think it would be a. dad dratted mean trick. ” But although this answer was not technically accurate, Jim was in the hands of his friends and was honora- gone far enough, and that she would :bly admitted—Case and Comment. A Mystery Expl‘lned. “Your business seems to be boom- ing. Is it 'caused by an anticipated cold winter?” remarked Pete Amster- dam to his coal dealer. “No, it’s not that. There has been I1, growing demand for more coal ever since these new patent fuel-saving stoves were put on the market,” re- plied the coal dealer with a grin.— New York World. Photography and Shooting. A miniature photographic camera at- tached to the barrel of a. gun, is the in- vention of Mr. Lerchner, of Vienna. By an automatic shutter, working in unison with the trigger ’of the gun, the sportsman is able to'obtaln a perfect photograph of the bird or animal im- mediately before the shot or bullet has reached It: ,- :3». Thanksgiving Day HISTORY OF THANKSGIVING DAY. Slow It Grow from the Earliest Colonlal Times. The earliest record which we have of In American Thanksgiving Day is !ound in the New England annals of 1621. In the autumn of that year Gov- ernor Bradford, so saith the chronicler, tent out men to procure some game, In order that the New England Colon- hts might properly enjoy a. day of thanksgiving in remembrance of the lruits of their labors during the year ihat had passed. Another day. of re- loicing was set apart and “solemnized” 1s “a day of thanksgiving unto the Lord,” after an abundant harvest in 1622. It is stated that, on this occas- sion, Massasoit and 'his council of braves were invited to participate in the festivities, and that they did so, spending three days in feasting. Evi- dently the Indian friends of the Col- DniStS found/Thanksgiving Day a day to be’made the most of. These Thanksgiving Days were not, however, of oflicial character. The first official public Thanksgiving Day was not until the year 1631; and even this day was not at first intended to be a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving. :‘ng and prayer for relief. The col- onists were in great distress; famine was imminent; a vessel laden with pro- Visions, and long at sea had not ar- rived. But just before the day of fast- Ing came, the ship made port; and the day was then ofiicially changed by the authorities from a day of sorrow to a. day of thanksgiving. This was the first real Thanksgiving Day of the American people. Thanksgiving days were occasionally observed also in the New Netherland after this date; but it was not until February, 1644, that another official was proclaimed. That year Governor Kieft proclaimed "axday of general thanksgiving,” the occasion being the victory of the Col- onists over the Indians. At the con- clusion of the peace, in 1645, another Thanksgiving Day was proclaimed. We are not told that the Indians were in- vited to this ceremony. The first National cThanksgiviug Day was, by proclamation of President Washington, set for Thursday, Novem- ber 26, 1789. Other presidents, after Washington, Issued Thanksgiving Day proclama- tions, from time to time; until now it is become the annual practice of the President of the United States to name the last Thursday in November as a day to be observed by thanksgiving and prayer. Governors of States issue their proclamations to correspond, thus making the observance uniform throughout the land. In the New England States Thanks- giving Day has been observed an— nually for over a. century. The cus- tom has extended to other States, one at a time, until, to- day, it prevails al- most everywhere in the country and is observed by Americans in foreign lands with a sentiment that is not only re- ligious but patriotic. It is a legal holiday also. According to the official reports on the subject in 1893 there were, at that date, but eight sections of the country where Thanksgiving Day was not recognized:' Arkansas, Color- ado, Delaware, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Utah. The rest of the Union had adopted the general custom. Latest reports (1897) show that there are now but three sections in which Thanksgiving Day is not of- ficially recognized—Alabama, Louisi- ana, Mississippi. Respect Paid to Turkish \Vomou. 0n the Bosphorus their salques are a great resource to the Turkish ladies. but in Pera those of the upper classes, can only go out, in closed carriages, to the Sweet Waters, occasionally accom- panied by their husbands on horse- back. But they may speak to no one while driving; their husbands and sons cannot even bow to them as they pass, and no one would venture to say a word to his own wife or mother when the carriage pulls up—the police would at once interfere. The highest mark of respect is to turn your back on a lady, and this is de rigueur when any mem~ ber of the Imperial harem passes. Formerly a. man never saw the fact of his intended until after the marriage ceremony, when they withdrew into a room and the veil was lifted for the first time. Now it is generally contriv- ed that the bridegroom—elect shall see his future wife for a. moment unveiled. —Exchange. Apropos of my. remarks on the some- times confiicting ideals of religion and gentlemanliness, says thePrivate Di- arist in “Cornhill Magazine,” a. lady sends me an amusing anecdote of a friend who bewailed to her the loss of a somewhat ill-bred, but extremely wealthy, neighbor- who had been very liberal in his help to her country char- ities. “Mr. X is dead," said she. “He was so good and kind and helpful to me in all sorts of ways; he was so vul- gar, poor dear fellow, ,We could not know him in London, but we shall meet in heaven.” It had been set apart as a day of fast» Honest Tobaccos are demanded by the in— telligent chcwcrs—ior they know the difference be- tween straight goods and sham stuff. All men know “B—L” stands for‘best leaf tobacco —finest flavor, and the kind that satisfies. Once used it’s always chewed—so most chewers use Tobaccos. WEAK LUNGS are benefited almost immediately, the cause of the trouble being dispelled, the diseased membranes healed and the en- tire body invigorated nnd strengthened by the use of ANGIER’S ETaoLEUM EMULSION “m“ Hypophosphites. The petioleum which it contains is a. gieat healei for all broken down tissue, while the hypophosphites form a help- ful element as a flesh creator, nerve strengthencr and blood purifiei. It has all the good qualities of cod- liver oil, without any of its objectionable features, being easy to assimilate and pleasant to take. Sold by all drugg'. sts 50c. and $1.00 Angler ChemicalCu 1‘ 1151011 District Boston. TE Ii ACR E”. FRUI T a TRUCK FARM inthe Garden State of Delaware, near all the large markets of the country On. y 5 hours from New York near Razl Roads, SChOO-z n41 Post 055 :ce High rolling lands no bills or 51012.1. r on soxl mI :1 healthy climate Duly short dis tan~ef:: :sea ebo c. plentv of fishing. - md hunting. 510 do vn. he’san e in small monthll a.yments Send for em paper which g: 'ves fu: l Inior man 011. Delaware Land and Improvement Com: tony, 11 Broadway No- I "I—‘ "L‘p‘m cows WITH EAe‘iiINes. Idopted in Belgium to Keep Tuberculosis Out of the Country. A cow is the last creature one would expect to see with earrings, yet every :ow in Belgium has got to wear them 10w. The Director-General of Agri- Iulture has issued a regulation that all 1nimals of the bovine species are to vear earrings as soon as they nave attained the age of three months. This is a hygienic measure, intend- 1d to prevent the introduction into Belgium of animals suffeiing from tu- Ierculosis. Breeders are to be obliged to keep .11 exact account of all animals raised 1y them, and the ring (on which is ngraved a number) is fastened in the .nlmal's ear for the purpose of pre- 'enting—or helping to prevent—the ubstitution of one animal for anotb~ r.-—~New York World. He Lost the "Vro‘ng ‘IL‘Ig. Abraham Sprawls was a veteran of three wars, and he used to live in wire. grass Georgia. He had lost one leg in battle, and walked around on a wooden stump. One day he got in the way of the fast mail and the engine ran over him. one of his sons—and he had a family of fifteen—had witnessed the accident, and, running toward him, shouted. “Train’ 5 cut off dad’s leg, an’ he’ll git - damages!” He lifted the old man to inspect his wounds, but suddenly let him fall, say- ing, in a tone of disgust: “Durn it all! It’s his wooden leg Ithey’ve cut ofi.” “Yes," groaned the old man as they wheeled him home, “it’s jest my ,durn- ed luck. Can’t see, ter save me, how they missed the good 1eg!”—Atlanta Constitution. What She Heard. ' .. '9, ' Mrs. Jagsby (at head of stairs, 5 a.' m.)—What is that noise? Is that you, Mr. Jagsby, falling upstairs? Mr. Jagsby (thickly)—N—no, m'dear! The noise you (hic) hear, thash just the (hic) break o_’_1_iay! , THE ORIGINAL 1153 1111111 Stamped II 3088 ,3 Always the Same
Norwalk Chronicler