The wonderful cure related below 111
by no means unusual with Ilood s 83.1-
saparilla. This gloat medicine has
given health to suffering children,
even when health seemed impossible.
The secret of its success is thatit puri‘
fies, vitalizes and enriches the blood.
“I wish to tell of a wonderful cure
effected by Hood’s Sarsaparilla. Five
years ago my little boy was sudden-
], seized with a severe lameness, appar-
enmy in his right knee, which some phy<
sicians said was rheumatism, while others
said it was hip disease and that it was
lncurahe
During the next winter and spring he
became rapidly worse. We took Jimmie
to a specialist, who said it was hip disease.
At this time the affliction became so
severe that we could not move him with-
out‘ causing screams of agony. He be-
came reduced in weight to 30 pounds, and
was but a shaddlw of his former self. We
had about given up hope when we read of
a cure by Hood’s Sarsaparilla of a similar
case. Vie resolved to try this medicine.
Jimmie was decidedly improved after
taking the first bottle. He was even
Better
after the second. We have since used
over a dozen bottles of the medicine, and
the change has exceeded our expectations.
James is now able to walk without the
aid of crutches and goes to school every
day.' He has been . wonderfully cured
by Hood’s Sarsaparilla.” J. O. RUNDELL,
Oakley, Michigan.
Druggist C. C. Tubbs says he knows the
Randell boy has been wonderfully
cured
by Hood’s Sarsaparilla and that Mr. Run-
dell 1s thoroughly reliable. He has a good
sale of \Hood’ 5 Sarsaparilla and Hood’s
Pills, both of which are giving 'perfect
satisfaction. He says Hood’s Pills seem
to be the coming family cathartic.
N. B. If you decide to take Hood’s Sar-
saparilla do not be induced to buy any
other. Insist upon Hood’s, because
_Hoods
Sarsaparilla
Is the One True Blood Purifier. All druggists. $1.
Prepared by C. 1. Hood 8.: Co., Lowell. Mass.
are easy to take, easy
HOOd’S Pills-to operate. 25cents.
RAUNSGHWEIGER
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B05 led for Jule. a 1d Delivered Anylwhe
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EDWARD P. WEED
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HETVVEEN
NORWALK,
SOD. NORWALK
NEW YORK.
Propellers
‘1ty of Norwalk,
Vulcan. and Eagle.
heave Norwalk at 5 p. in.
Leave S0. Norwalk at 6 p. .
heave New ”York, Pier 23,
E, PL, Beekman St., 5 p m,
0!
1 'I .l‘ LIGII‘ PAR". EL an
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new rates. Will also take orders for mes
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l1:lersre..e'1v.ad at E P. Weei’ s Druc Store.
:11 #1111 Street. With telephone connection un-
M"111 n. LOCKWOOD.
run EV
AN ACT OF CHARITY
ANDERSON. .
BY JESSIE M.
'Mrs; Tom W'alton was in a. very com--
fortable frame of mind and body.
"Tom” had come home for luncheon,
and had amiably started off with their
guest, Giacei May nerd, for the public
reception at the 33 1111c house. Grace
was to go by the afternoon train, and
this was her last chance to see the
“First Lady of the Land,” as the news-
papers call our democratic queen. T0111
would be coming home for dinner alone
after seeing Grace elf, and there would
be a chance'again for their dear cozy
evenings together. It was selfish, she
knew; but- she was glad that they were
not to have any more visitors. Nobody
would be coming to ll'ashington, now
that the season was so nearly over, and
‘she could have Tom all to herself. She
looked lazily out of the 33indo33 and
saw her husband and Grace boarding a.
car at the corner.
There is scarcely anything more en-
tertaining to a student of democratic
government than an afternoon recep-
tion at the white house. Mr. Walton
and his charge had stood long and per-
severingly “in line,” first out in the
street, then gradually pushed along
within the grounds, till at last. they
found themselves standing in solemn
file, Grace In front, at the very thresh-
old of the blue room. Just ahead were
two tiny but hold figures—a small,
dark-eyed Jewess and her smaller
brother—“Miss Zimmerman and Mr.
Zimmerman,” they gave their names to
the inquiring usher; “Miss Cinnamon
and Mr. Cinnamon,” he shouted, in
stentorian tones, as they passed along
the magic circle within which stood the
receiving party.
Back of these was a. curious-looking
old woman with a huge green veil tied
over her head and ears and atiny, faded
old black shawl gathered around her
shoulders.
“Wall, now, it‘s good for sore eyes to
see ye,” she said, as she shook hands
lingeringly with one of the cabinet la-
dies. “Be ye Mrs. Cleveland? W'all,
now.~ I can’t see ez ye look much like
your picture that I’ve got at home. That
looks just like my Cynthy did before
she died." ller tones were croaking,
but there was an upward curve of hap~
p3 pride 111 the 3v rinkles about the kind-
I y old eyes. '
“Move on, there!” came the rough ,
‘ sorry for her."
voice of the policeman. And Grace and
Mr. Walton found themselves taking
the woman‘s place; and then, all in a
breath they were out in the great room
be3 011d amusing themselves by listen-
picked up her umbrella, and she leaned
gratefully On his mm as they crossed
the square.
He opened the door 3v ith the latchkey,
and smuggled the old lady into the
library. There he settled her in a'big
armchair, and then ran hastily upstairs
to his wife.
New Harriet was just lookingnbout
for a convenient chair to put her skein
of silk across, while she wound it onn
large spool, to keep it from tangling.
When Tom entered the room she jumped
up happily, and, giving him a kiss, said,
iniper'1t13 ely “Now, Tom, 3 011 are just
in time; put out 3our hands, sir!"
‘ You dear old fellow—did Grace get
off? What kind of a time did 3 on have
at the reception? Trelncndously
crow (led. 9 oh- -3 es, that goes without say-
ing. Oh, Tom, it’s such a blessed relief
to have you here, all to myself. We
won’t be ‘at home’ to anybody for a
week, will we? but just have some of
our pleasant little evenings together.
Have some tea? Here, I can reach the
bell. By the way, I’ve had a letter from
Florence Drayton. She’s .been 11p to a
new prank—been playing her cheer-up
act do3vn at your aunt Martha’s. She
'must be an odd old soul from what
You’ve never told me
When did you see her
Florence says.
much about her.
last ?”
“Aunt Martha? 011, not since I was a
boy. I really have rather neglected her,
I suppose. She was all right so long as
her daughter lived—Jane. She taught
school down there, and they got 011 very
well; but, speaking of old ladies-”
“Oh, Toni,” broke in Harriet; “you
seem to be cxcitcd on the subject of old
ladies. You’re twisting your hands up
frightfuliy, and the. silk is a mess. The
trees look bare yet over in the park,
don’t. they? I shall be glad when spring
really comes. , If it hadn’t been for that
frost!”
“Apropos of the park,” said Tom.
humbly. beginning again rat-her :1er pt-
ly, “when I was coming through the
'park this afternoon there was 11 poor
i
l
l
l
l
old woman sitting on a. bench. I really
felt soriv foi her, she looked so help-
less and tired
“0h ’Iom!’ ’ mied his 331fc in despair,
“do please be careful. Y’ou 1c knotting
the silk worse than ever. Be sorry for
11111. You can’t waste your pity on every
loafer you sec. 011 the park lx111chc1s.”
“But, llctty dear, this old lady wasn‘t
a. ‘loafcr;' she was just. a respectable old
country .soul;~I should judge, who had '
lost her way in the city. 1 really felt
“Why didn‘t you bring her, home for
dinner?” said llarrict, a. little sarcastic—
ally. “ h. Tom now you have done it.”
Tom dmpptd the silk entirely in his.
ing to the broken 1] nglish of a group of i disma3 , 1 11d gasi >cd, half laughing in
tore me who stood in one corner, ga3!
in native costume, with their odd caps
on their heads.
‘ Your o clock already,” said Mr. Wal-
ton, looking at his watch “We shall
ha3e to hurry, if 3ou want to see the
conserv.”ator3 .- .. ,1 _
Just as Mr. Walton was putting Grace
on her train, Mrs. 3313.11.01. drawled a
lazy “Come!” to the maid who brought
her the afternoon post. There were
two letters. One, a fat one, from a
301mg cousin of Mr. Walton‘s, she
5 opened first:
“MY DEAR HETTY: I gather from Tom’s
lettels that you tvxo are still mooning
along in your' nuptial bliss, not settled
down enough to enjoy visitors. So I'm not
coming to see you. But you can't guess
where I have been!
"It seems a. year or two, but it's really
only a. month, I've spent with a dear funny
old aunt of Tom‘s and mine. I thought I
knew what it would be like to live that
way, but Gooseberryville exceeded my most
fantastic visions. .
“Aunt Martha lives in a little old place,
not picturesque enough to be called a cot—
tage. and not sizable enough to be a house.
I just pumped my brain to remember all
the ‘news’ for years back of anybodycon-
nected with our enormous family. She
would roll piecrust while I washed tea—
cups: or, to be less poetic, but more fre—
spite of his anxict3: “Well, llctly dear
—I (lid—bring hir—home with me!”
“Thomas Burr Walton! What. lune
3011 done 33it11 her ? I’oor old thin 11'”
and before Tom could giasp'diis 331ic
purpose or change his mode, she 3311';
downstairs, flying through the draw-
ing—room into the library beyond with.
as she aftcnvards confessed, a mixture
of feais that the “poor old 33 0111.111
111ightha3 e fallen in a faint from weari-
ness 01 that she might ha3e made off
.3' ith the bi 1c— —d.-l)1' ac.
'Poor old thing! She had not fainted,
but. she was almost unconscious from
sheer exhaustion. Tenderly they lifted
her and carried her over to the dlvnn in
the bow-window recess. She asked
fccbly for her bag, and moaned out
something about l1'1iu 0 “so 11111113 people
the re.’ ’tllld she 33 as “so tired. ”
"'“l13.l.ldo believe its the 3e13 S' 1mc
old creature that 33 alkcd 'Lhend of us in
. he procession at thcflwhitc house,” said
Mr. Walton; “yes, it’s the same green
veil!”
T1193 looked for the little 1111.51'1n 3ain.
- ‘ I remembei she hcld on to it 33 hem l
quently true, she tilled the oil lamps while ;
I scourcd the priddlcpans—or polished up '
the gilt frame of Mr. Cleveland’s picture in
the parlor.
"Poor old soul!
about there call her ‘Ruts.’ I found that
she had bad for breakfast ever since she
was left alone, which is several months ago,
griddlecakes and molasses; for dinner,
bread without butter and half a pie: and
for supper, the rest of the pie and bread
and cheese, with a cup of tea. She said it
was cheaper and easier; she never had been
much of a hand at accounts; and in that
way she could tell just how much she
spent, and ‘keep within her income.’
“VVbile I was there, of course I paid
board, and I ‘instituted a change,’ as she
called it. At first she wouldn’t eat but one
or two'diffcrent things at one meal; but I
soon coaxed her into looking up all her
famous 01d recipes, and I left her a. new
creature. She got so much fatter and
brighter that you would hardly have known
her.
‘There' 3 no use of sending her money,
for she won't like it. But if you and Tom
could send her a new shawl and a new dark-
srcen veil—she never goes out Without these
two things, part of her Tut—why, she
would put in a better appearance, the dear
old soul!
“The visit has really done me good, too.
I'vvas getting into a rut, myself, if not
quite as narrow a one as Aunt Martha’s.
“Most affectionately, your cousin,
“FLORENCE.”
Tom Walton 33 as hurrying home,
across the little green “square’ oppo-
site his street, 33 hen he heard someone
speak in a. quav e1 mg tone. “Sir, do
you know where Park place is ?”
He looked around, and saw a little old
woman sitting on a bench that stood at
the edge of the gravel walk. She was
apparently too tired even to stand up to
attract attention; and she spoke in a
discouraged way, as if she hardly ex—
pected him to turn around.
“Why, madam, this block up here is
Park place. What number are you look-
ing for ?” he said, kindly, sitting down
beside the old lady, and waiting patient-
ly while she fumbled in her pocket.
“I can’t find the paper,” she said, at
last. “But I think it’s 47.”
“Very well, madam,” said Tom, still
more kindly; he knew there was no such
number in the place, but did not wish to
break her hope down until she could rest '
a little and perhaps find the paper. “If
you will just step into my house—this
first house here—I will have somebody
take you over. You Should have a cup
,of tea, too; you look a bit tired.” 116
I heard that the villagers 1
took hei umbrella,” said T0111. “She
must have dropped it. in tlic streetwithJ
out my noticing it.”
“Tom, dear,” said Harriet, as they
went into the dining-100111 for dinner,
leaving the “poor old soul" .l':1.s:.t:1slc.cp
in the library—“Tl‘om, '1 1211111: 3.11171!
better send around to the 01 her houses
in the place and inquire if the-3' are
expecting an old lady. You see, it’s
only a. block: and it might. save her
friends great anxiety.”
“But who is there on this block that
- could possibly be expecting her?” Tom
asked, doubt-fully.-
I'Iowever, he admitted that. there could
be no harm done, and finally said he
would step around himself. llut he came
back within half an hour without. hav—
ing learned anything about "an old
lad y—looking for some number 011 Park
place.” Nobody was “expecting her.”
“She must have meant I’ark avenue,”
they decided; “we will try to find out
to-morrow; don’t disturb her now.”
Andso, with c‘ushions carefully ar-
ranged to shut off all draft, they left
her on the wide window couch for the
night. The next day they had a. doctor
call in and a. trained nurse from the hos-
pital. The old lady was very ill, and
talked feverishly.
“Mrs. Cleveland was there; but I
1didn’t have a chance to shake hands.
They made us hurry by so fast. But she
looks like Cynt-hy. Yes, (‘ynthy could
have made a president’s “die—wouldn’t
have been a. mite too good for her. I
think I dropped my bag—dropped it—
3'es, there it is; and I’m too tired to
pick it up!”
Suddenly Harriet, .listcning, turned
and ran downstairs to the library, from
which they had carried the old woman
that .morning up to the “guest room,”
which Grace Maynard had just left. “-I
wonder if she could have dropped it
here!” was the thought that had come
to her.
She looked about, near the chair
where she had found the old woman on
the previous afternoon; and there,
surely enough—there was the little
black bag! She hesitated for a moment,
then decided to open it.
Then she flew upstairs to the dress-
ing- room, where Tom was polishing his
boots.
“0h, Tom,” she cried, half laughing,
but with a. “choke” in her voice—"Tom,
it’s Aunt Martha! ”—33. Y. Independent.
THE MATINEE ' MARTYR.
Confessions of a. Much-Persecuted Lead-
' lug: Young Man. _
W hen I adopted the stage as a profes-
sion I little dleamed that I should ever
live to regret my success. Yet you see .
in myself one who isthe victim of the
enthusiasm of. his friends. Early in
my career the “matinee girl" marked
me for her own. She found in my man-
ner, my dress, my voice, the dream of
..b0ar(l_ing school days come to life,
writes a contributor. I‘o her 1 am
fashionable youth in its most glorious
for in. She would not admii 1: me as she
does were that admiration not leavened
with a harmless sentiment that is"
smiled upon with indulgence even by
her chaperon. For her I am the young
man of the period,‘unmarred by the
commonplaces of the young man she
knows. I am the young, man of yester-
day; I must be the young man of to-
morrow, the day after, and the day after
that. l-Ience these tears! I can never
grow old. To slide into middle age
g1acefully and with dignity is de-
nied to me forever
As I am upon the stage so I must be
33 hen 1 walk upon the 213 enue or ride' 1n
the park. The matinee girl, ” my ad-
mirer and my tyrant, must find me as
graceful and, alas! as youthful in the
street as when I appear behind the foot-
lights. The matinee girl will become a.
matron and watch with maternal care
the growth of. the other matinee girls.
llut these, her daughters, will have to
find me just as I was when she herself
first sat in the stalls on a Saturday
years before. Life for me has none of
the careless joys that come to the man
who can grow stout with impunity.
’I'he loss of my waist would mean the loss
or my reputation. My tailor would
rather know that I had committed a
crime than an indiscretion in eating. I
grow cold when my barber hints that
my hair is thinning at the top, and signs
of another line about my eyes spoil my
slumbers for a week.
I know there will be a parting of the
ways, a dilemma to be faced, a choice to.
be made. At a certain point I must take I
to the legitimate and begin all over
again, or make up my mind to be young
until the end. If I resolve to remain
the idol of her whose laughter and tears
are so tragically dear to me I shall be
juvenile at 70. As I take my 33 alks
abroad myg Uirth shall be as slender as
now, though it is associated 33 ith sta3 5;
my chest as broad, though there is pud-
ding in it; my boots as small, though
they cover the seat of my agony; my
hair as thick, though it is not my own;
1113' complexion as bright, though it is
bought at a drug store. I shall be, a
victim sacrificed on the altar of the
matinee girl‘s idea of perpetual youth.
—N. Y. Sun.
cures Catarrh, even in
t
I serious cases. To get 5
immediate relief in Ca-
tarrh, or a hard “cold in
the head,” just put a. bit
of 1
"S l
a vaucea
(TRADE-MARK)
the size of a pea, into
each nostril.
It’s the quickest remedy
for
1
1
i
Piles, Skin Diseases,
Ulcers, Bulls,
Burns, Sore Throat,
Bruises, Earache,
chafings, Headache,
Spralns, Strains.
Two sizes, 25 and 50 cents.
At druggists, or by mail.
Tn: .annaru Co., 274 CANAL $1., N. Y.
OPENED. .
Prof. George Yoerger has
opened his Boxing School
for the Winter.
Private instructions at the .
pupils home if desired.
Full course, 12 lessons, "
$10.
ADDRESS
Prof. George Yeerger.
. Norwa’lk, Conn
0r apply at this cflice.
‘llNTBlL NATIONAL BANK,
740' IVALL S12, NOR ”’ALK.
URPORATED SEPT. 1. 1976.
nI’l'I‘AL. _-' - - - - 1- $100,000
nus M . HoLMEs. President.
. 1.. Bursa, Vice-President.
WILLIAMA. CURTIS. Cashier
DIRECTORS:
.1qu M. HOLMES, ' H E. DANN,
11. CUNNINGHAM, J. T.P 11'033 rrr
I. 11. Roman, S. H. HOLME s
J . Gousms. JR.
filscaunl Bay, Salurdav.
Advertise
' the
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