__ Itching If there is one thing more than another which gratifies us, it is the great volume of hearty thanks which come from grateful parents for the cures Hood’s Sarsaparilla has effected upon their children. The agony of despair turns to unspeakable joy as mothers and fathers see dreadful sores and eruptions gradually yield to the potent purifying power of this great medicine, and bright boys and girls given perfect health. Read this: _ “When my baby was four weeks old, scrofulous eczema broke out on his body. .He became literally covered with When six months old the breaking out healed on his body, but his head, face and arms were a terrible sight. I passed many sleepless nights holding his little hands to keep him from scratching his face. I cannot tell what he suffered with the sores. ' One doctor attended him a year without ‘avail. No one thought he would ever get well. He was almost a year old when I commenced to give him. Hood’s Sarsapa- rilla. He soon grew so much better that gru red I was able to rest at night. Gradually tlfe sores on his head and arms healed, the burning and itching ceased, and he slept better. - In 2 months he looked like an- other child, gained strength, was cured. I recommend all persons afflicted with eczema or any skin disease to take Hood’s Sarsaparilla. I feel assured that it will do wonders for others. I cannot praise it too highly for what it has done for my Tilli‘ng poor little sufferer. It is hard to believe he is the same child, he is now such a big, hearty, fat boy, a very picture of health. If more people would give Hood’s Sarsaparilla to their children, there would notbe so many poor, delicate little ones.” MRS. AGNES C. BAILEY, Box 91, McVey- town, Pennsylvania. This and other similar cures prove that Hood’s Sarspaparill‘a Is the One True Blood Purifier. All drugglsts. $1. Be sure to get Hood’s and only Hood’s. It is prepared only by C. I. Hood 8; Co., Lowell, Mass. cure all Liver Ills and H00d’S Pills Sick Headache. 25ceuts. uorsooworooo Mllhllll.“ a l’ore Malt Extract. A Substitute for Solid Food nign'est percentage Extract. Low- est percentage Alcohol. An Efl‘ect rye Tonic.’ An Agreeable Beverage A mild Stimulant. Just what physicians will pre- scribe for Nursing Mothers Con- valescents and victims of Insomnia or Nervous Disorders resulting from Impaired Digestion and Overwork. lur Sale and Delivered Anywhe mull ISLAND oorrrmc co. 350-284 Bergen St. Brocklyn FOR SALE BY “TDWARD P. WEED il‘AlLl FREIGHT LINE BETWEEN lllORWALK, ' so. NORWALK row YORK. ‘ Propellers arty of Norwalk, Evolean and Eagle. heave N orwalk at-5 p. 111. Leave So. Norwalk at 6 p. m. Leave New York, Pier 23, E. R., Beekman St., 5 p, m, .- I I LIGHT PARCEL and outflow PACKAGE DELIVERY 2 near) rates, Will also take orders for mes what service in New York. Goods called it. and delivered to all arts of the town, (orders received atE.P. eed’s Drug Store. as Wall Street, With telephone connection un’ 5"” c. E. LOCKWOOD. r ' structed lien or THE SILENT SISTERS. BY I. ZANGWILL. They had quarreled in girlhood, and mutually declared. their intention never to Speak to each other again, wetting and drying their forefingers to the accompaniment of an ancient childish incantation; and while they lived on the paternalfarm they kept their foolish oath with the stubborn- ness ofaslow country stock, despite the alternate coaxing and chastise- ment of their parents, notwithstand- ing the perpetual every-day contact of their lives, through every vicissitude of season and weather, of sowing and reaping, of sun and shade, of , joy and sorrow. Death and misfortune did not reconcile them, and when their father died, and the old farm was sold up, they traveled to London in the same silence, by the same train, in search of similar situations. Service separated them for years, although there was. only a. stone’s throw be- tween them. They often stared at each other in the streets. Honor, ‘the elder, married a local artisan, and two and a. half years later Mercy, the younger, married a fellow-workman of Jane’s husband. The two husbands were friends, and often visited each ,other’s houses, which were on oppo- site sides of the same sordid street, and their wives made them welcome. Neither Honor nor Mercy suffered an allusion to the breach; it was under- stood that their silence must be, re- ceived in silence. Each of the sisters had a quiverful of children, who played and quarreled together in the streets and in one another’s houses, but not even the street aflrays and mutual grievances of the children could pro- voke the mother's to words. They stood at their doors in impotent fury, almost bursting with the torture of keeping their mouths shut against the effervescence of angry speech. When either lost a child, the other watched the funeral from her window, dumb as the mutes. The years rolled on, and still the river of silence flowed between their lives. Their good looks faded; the burden of life and of child-bearing was heavy upon them. Gray hairs streaked their brown tresses, then brown hairs streaked their gray' trgsses. The puckers of age replaced the dimples of youth. The years rolled on, and death grew busy among the families. Honor’s husband died, and Mercy lost a. son, who died a week after his wife. Chol- era took several of» the younger chil- dren. But the sisters themselves lived on, bent and shriveled by toil and sor- row even more than by the slow frost of the years. Then one day Mercy took to her death-bed. An internal disease, too long neglected, would carry her off within a. week. So the doctor told Jim, Mercy’s husband. Through him the news traveled to Honor’s eldest son, who still lived with her. By the evening it reached Honor. . She went upstairs abruptly when he told her, leaving him wondering at her stony aspect. When she came down she was bonneted and shawled. He was filled with joyous amaze to see her hobble across the street, and. for the first time in her life, pass over her sister Mercy’s threshold. As Honor entered the sick-room, with pursed lips, a light leapt into the wasted, wrinkled countenance of the dying creature. She raised her- self slightly in bed, her lips parted, then shut tightly, and her face dark- ened. Honor turned angrily to Mercy’s husband, who hung about impotently. “Why did you let her run down so low?” she said. “I didn’t know,” the old man stammered, taken back by her . presence even more than by her ques- tion. “She was always a. woman to say nothin’.” Hon‘or put him impatiently aside and examined the medicine bottle on the bedside table. “Isn’t it time she took her dose?” “I dess‘ay.” 7 Honor snorted wrathfully. “What’s the use of a man?” she inquired as she carefully measured out the fluid and put it to her sister’s lips, which opened to receive it and then closed tightly again. ' "How is you Wife feeling now?” Hon- or asked after apause. “How are you now, Mercy?” asked the old man, awkwardly. The old woman shook her head. “I’m a'—goin’ fast, Jim,” she grumbled weakly, and a. tear of self-pity trickled down her parchment check. “What rubbidge she do talk!” cried Honor, sharply. “Why d’ye stand there like a tailor’s dummy? Why don’t you tell her to cheer up?” “Cheer up, Mercy!” quavered the old man hoarsely. ;.._;. But Mercy groaned instead, " and turned fretfully on her other side with her face to the wall. at a“, “I’m too old, I’m too old,” * she moaned. “This is the end 0’ me.” ‘ “Did you ever hear the like?” Hon- or asked Jim angrily, as she smoothed his wife’s pillow. “She was always conceited about her age, settin’ her- self up as the equals of her elders; and here am I, her elder sister, as carried ' her in my arms when I was five and she was two, still hale and strong, and with no mind for underground for many a long day. Nigh three times her age I was once, mind you, and now she has the imperence to talk' of dyin’ before me.” She took off her ‘bonnet and shawl. “Send one 0’ the kids to tell my boy I’m stayin’ here,” she said. “And then just you get ’em all to bed—— there’s too much noise about the house.” , The children, who were orphaned grandchildren of the dying woman, were Isent to bed, and then Jim him- self was packed off to refresh himself for the next day’s labors, for the poor old fellow still doddered about the workshop. The silence of the sick room spread over the whole house. About ten o’clock the doctor came again and in- how to alleviate the. patient’s last hours. All night long she sat watching her dying _sister,"hand and eye alert to anticipate every'wish. No word broke the awfulstillness. The first thing in the morning, Mer- cy’s married daughter, the only child of hers living in London, arrived to nurse her mother. But Honor indig- nantly refused to be dispossessed. “A nice daughter you are,” she said, “to leave your mother lay a day and a night without a sight 0’ your ugly face.” “I had to look after the good man and the' little ’uns,” the daughter pleaded. “Then what do you mean by de- sertin’ them now?” the irate old wom- an retorted. “First, you deserts your mother, and then your husband and children. You just go back to them as needs your care. I carried your mother in my arms before you was born, and if she wants anybody else now to look after her let her just tell me so and I’ll be off in a brace o’ shakes.” She looked defiantly at the yellow, dried-up creature in the bed. Mercy’s withered lips twitched, but no sound came from them. Jim, strung up by the situation, took the word. “You can’t do no good up here,” the doctor says. “You might look'after the kids downstairs a bit when you can spare an hour; and I’ve got to go to the shop. I’ll send you a telegraph if there’s a change,” he whispered to the daughter; and she, not wholly discon- tented to return to her living inter- ests, kissed her mother, lingered a little and then stole quietly away. All that day the old women re- mained together in solemn silence, broken only by the doctor’s visit. He reported that Mercy might last a couple of days more. In the evening Jim replaced his sister-in-law, who slept perforce. At midnight she awoke and sent him to bed. The sufferer tossed about restlessly. At half-past two she awoke, and Honor fed her with some broth as she would have fed a baby. Mercy, indeed, looked scarcely bigger than an infant, and Honor had the advantage of her only by being puffed out with clothes. A church clock in the distance struck three. Then the silence fell deeper. The watcher drowsed. The lamp flickered, tossing her, shadow about the walls as if she, too, were turning feverishly from side to side. Astrange ticking made itself heard in the wainscoting. Mercy sat up with a scream of terror. “J-im!” she shrieked; “Jim!” Honor started up, opened her mouth to cry. “Hush!” then checked herself, suddenly frozen. “Jim,” cried the dying creature, “listen! Is that the death spider?” Honor listened, her blood curdling. Then she went towards the door' and opened it. “Jim,” she said in low tones, speaking towards the landing; “tell her it’s nothin’; it’s only a..m0use. She 'was always a. nervous little thing.” And she closed the door softly, and, pressing her trembling sister tenderly back on the pillow, tucked her up snugly in the blanket. - Next morning, when Jim was really present, the patient begged pathetic- ally to have a. grandchild with her in the room, day and night. “Don’t leave me alone again,” she quavered; “don’t leave me alone, with not a. soul to talk to.” Honor wmced, but said nothing. The youngest child, who did not have to go to school, was brought—a. pretty boy with brown curls,which the sun, streaming through the panes, turned to gold. The morning passed slowly. About noon Mercy took the child’s hand and smoothed his curls. “My sister Honor had golden curls like that,” she whispered. “They were in the family, Bobby,” Honor answered; "your granny had them, too, when she was a girl.” There was a. long pause. Mercy’s eyes were half-glazed, but her vision was inward now. “The mignonette will be growin’ in the meadows, Bobby,” she murmured. “Yes, and the heart’s-ease,” said Honor, softly. “We lived in the coun- try, you know, Bobby.” “There is flowers in the country,” Bobby declared, gravely. ' - “Yes, and trees,” said Honor. “I wonder if your granny remembers when we were larrupped for stealin’ apples?” "Ay, that I do, Bobby, he, he!” croaked the dying creature, with a burst of enthusiasm. “We was a pair 0’ tomboys. The‘varmer he ran after us, cryin’ ‘Ye! Ye!’ but we wouldn’t take no gar. He, he he!” Honor wept at the laughter. The native idiom, unheard for half a. century, made her face shine under the tears. “Don’t let your granny ex- cite herself, Bobby. Let me give her her drink.” She moved the boy aside, and Mercy’s lips automatically opened to the draught. “Tom was wi’ us, Bobby,” she gur- gled, still vibrating with amusement, “and he tumbled over on the heather, he, he!” “Tommy is dead this forty year, Bobby,” Whimpered Honor. ' . Mercy’s head fell back and an eXpres- sion of supreme exhaustion came over the face. Half an hour passed. Bobby was called down to dinner. The doc- tor had been sent for. Suddenly Mercy sat up with a jerk. “It be growin’ dark, Tom,” she said, hoarsely; “hain’t it time to call the cattle home from the ma’shes?” “She’s takin’ rubbidge again,” said Honor, chokingly. “Tell her she’s in London, Bobby.” A wave of intelligence traversed the sallow face. Still sitting up, Mercy bent towards the side of the bed. “Ah! is Honor still there? Kiss rile—Bobby.” Her hands groped blindly. Honor bent down, and the old women’s with- ered lips met. And in that kiss Mercy passed away into the greater Silence. --Outlook. A Classical Instance. “I hear,” said Diana the huntress, as she rested her toe for an instant on the pedestal, “that Pygmalion is in love with Galatea.” “Indeed!” ejaculated the Bust of Minerva; “well, it’s a cinch that he gets the marble heart. ”—Puck. ”rna“hvnN1ncfeAZET¢hf CONFUSED IDENTITY. t Many Mistakes Result from. a. Similarity of Names. 4' — The Remarkable and Annoying Experi- ence of a. Washington Woman Who Was Taken for One Who Had Died. “I am not a believer in the super- natural, and I, am certainly not a. theosophist,” asserted a bright, chip- .per old lady, as she turned from the post ofi’ice window one day lately after an interview with the “powers” in which she was endeavoring to estab- lish her identity, says the Washington Star, “and neither do I believe in the ‘fates’ or evil stars or anything of that kind, but I am haunted, or hoodooed, whichever you may desire to call it, by adead woman. I never knew her in life. never knew that she had lived, in fact, until she had given up the strug- gle. It was the day she died and the notice was put in the papers that my hant’ began business. This lady lived on the same street ‘with me, about fourteen blocks distant, so I have learned since, and we moved to another street on the same day that this‘es- timable woman departed for the silent land. . “The next day my daughter got two letters of condolence on her sad be- reavement. Of course,” we didn’t know what to make of it. That evening a lady called to leave her card. Our maid, knowing the lady quite well, said Mrs. M—, my daughter, was re- ceiving, and in a surprised but sub- dued manner she walked into my daughter’s presence, and, being tender hearted and recently bereaved herself, burst into a passion of sympathetic tears. My daughter naturally asked an explanation, and, though it was a. sorry joke, we all had a merry l‘augh over it. p “The lady who died was my own age, bore my own initials and name and was born in the town where I spent most of my life. The publication of her death notice having been seen by friends led them to think that I had parted this life. The next day cards rained in on us, and five more letters. The next week the mail of the dead woman began to come to me. Letters, papers, magazines—-they all found their way to our house, because :the lady, who had lived alone, had no friends to look after her affairs, I pre- sume, and the house was shut up, and the city directory gave my address, but not hers. “I wouldn’t have minded them so much, but there also came duns and circulars, bills for the literature and newspapers. Finally we got worried. We could not tell until the letters ‘were opened whether they were for me or the dead woman. So often I sent back opened letters marked 'opened by mistake’ that I began to fear the law. Then casual acquaint- ances of the dead woman began to call on me, having seen my name in the society notes, to congratulate me on not being dead! And all the time I .was, or rather the woman whom they thought wasn’t dead, was dead, while I was alive. Then we moved again, and people who used to be our best friends began to drop me from their in- vitation list, having got the vague im- pression that I was dead, which a few speaking acquaintances confirmed by asserting that my name was on a hand— some monument in Oakwood. ‘It cer- tainly was, for they had seen it!’ “The worst of it was, they had seen my name, but I was 'not there; that is, if it istho lie under the stone, my astral body is pretty lively, don’t you think so? At last I had got rid of the namesake’s letters and papers, but mine also were missing from the time we moved to our present address. My daughter’s mail came all right, but mine suddenly stopped. I came up to- day to investigate, and find that my namesake now appears in the directory as ‘dead,’ while I do not appear at all for some inscrutable reason, so that the spectral mail forwarded by our other postman to our new address has fallen into the hands of one who knew the ‘hant’ and of her death, and who had been sending the mail back to the writers or to the dead letter office, much to my distress of mind. I am now trying to establish my identity. Really, it is almost uncanny, and my nerves are actually suffering from the persistent manner in which the dead woman’s personality pursues me.” My ‘A Great Truck Garden. The New York board of health lately discovered that Riker’s island, a de- serted bit of land on Which the city was in the habit of dumping its gar- bage, was, if not blossoming like the rose, at least bringing forth produce after the fashion of a Harlem truck patch. The reason of its friiitfulnes's lay in the fact that the garbage was spread out in the low places of the island and then covered withadressing of dirt. In due course of time the seeds of all kinds of vegetables natu- rally sprouted, and consequently a luxu- riant crop of cantaloupes, watermelons, squashes, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, beets and carrots grew to maturity, much to the surprise of Sanitary In- spector Springer, who visited the island the other day to look into its condition. Slave Trade in Morocco. A recent writer from Morocco says that the slave trade in that country was never so actively prosecuted as it is at the present time. For some time past, ever since the accession of the present sultan, the southern tribes have been in active revolt, raiding and destroying the towns and villages and carrying off the women and children, whom they sell into slavery at different points on the coast. The slaves are purchased for the most part by Jewish traders, who are largely under British and Portuguese protection. The writer thinks that the Christian powers should make an agreement to withdraw their protection from any individual, native or' alien, who engages in the slave trade. ' - \ .DOGS FOR_USE IN .WAR. Trained to. Larry Ammunition and to? Seek put the Wounded in Battle. Some very interesting experimentsas' _to the utility of war dogs were recent-: 1y made in connection with the Dres- den international dog show on the race course near Dresden, says a foreign exchange. A company was supposed to be covering some transports of horses against an imaginary enemy. In order to do this more effectually some non-commissioned officers, accom- panied by dogs, were sent forward to watch the approach of the enemy. They advanced about a. mile and a. quarter, whilst keeping up communi- cation with the company by means of the dogs. In this way the company was kept fully informed as to the movements of the enemy, and could stop the‘ transport of horses in good time before the attack. The same dogs were also used for carrying ammunition to the firing line, each dog being provided for this pur- pose with a kind of saddle holding about three hundred cartridges. The animals will go along the lines, stop- ping in front of every man, who takes the number of cartridges he requires. When the ammunition is exhausted the dog will hurry back to receive a fresh supply, and thereupon resume the dis- tribution. The dogs, are also'trained tofind the wounded and attract the attention of the ambulance men in various Ways, some remaining near the man and barking until assistance arrives, some rnnning off to find an ambulance man and lead him to the spot, and others taking the man’s forage cap or tearing away a piece of his clothing and carry- ing it to the attendants. RIP VAN, WINKLE IN CHINA. " He Stopped to “'atch a. Lengthy Game of Chess. ‘ p A Chinese writer, Tcheng-Ki-Tong, ‘ describes Chinese chess as agame of patience. It is played with three hun~ dred and sixty-one pawns, and the player sometimes deliberates half an hour before moving one of them. Lit- érary men and ladies are said. to be fond of it, and what sounds more like- ly, “people who have retired from business.” There are three sounds, the writer says, which help to turn ane’s thoughts toward what is pure and delicate; the sound of falling water, the murmur of wind in the trees, and the rattle of chess pawns. ' In the time of the Tching dynasty, as the story goes, a woodcutter who had .gone to the top of a. mountain for a day‘s work found two young men there playing chess. He stopped to look on, and presently became deeply interest- ed, and after awhile one of the play- ers gave him a- piece of candied fruit to eat. The game grew more and more ex- citing. The woodcutter forgot his work, and sat hour after hour with his eyes on the board. At last he happened to look at his ax. The handle of it had rotted away. That frightened him. He jumped up and hastened down the mountain to the village. Alas, among all the people of the street he recognized not one, and he found on inquiry that several cen- turies had passed since he started out with his ax. THE VlCTORlOU’S WH EEL. It Is Capturing the Royal Ladies of . Europe. The bicycle, according to the London Queen, is pushing its triumphant way into the most exclusive and impenetra- ble circles of society. Among royal ladies, the first convert was the beauti- ful Queen Margherita of Italy, who is such an enthusiastic wheel-woman that the cycling club of Milan recently pre- sented her with a golden bicycle—the first in the world. Her everyday wheel, however, is of English make. The duehess of Aosta. was among the earliest of women riders, and it is said was taken to task for it by the king, her uncle, but succeeded in converting both himrand the queen before the mat- ter was ended. The young queen of Holland rides, while the princess of Wales and her daughters ride tricycles at Sandringham, and even appeared in the parks of Denmark on tandem tri- cycles. With such high examples, Of course, the ladies of the nobility are not left' behind; and some of them possess very beautiful wheels of ivory or silver plate and oxidized metal. Lady Dudley owns one enameled in white, with lining of blue and gold, and ivory handles. But with all this magnificence these ladies probably reap no more pleasure or benefit than the untitled American who spins along democratic roads on a. plain black and nickel wheel, the equal for the time being of any duehess or queen of them all. BACK YARDS ARE WASTED. 01d Gardener Tells How the Space Can Be Well Utilized. An old gardener told a. Cincinnati Times-Star reporter that the most won- derful thing about city folks is their ig- norance of what they could do with the little strips of ground surrounding their houses, and especially with their back yards. “They are not big enough for lawns,” said he, “so most people just use them to walk on, but if they had some gumption they could. enjoy many a garden delicacy of their own raising. A strip twenty feet long and a foot wide against the wall would furnish enough grapes for two to eat. The next foot would supply them with peas; the next with beans; the next with radishes and turnips and lettuce; one bush in each of the four corners would produce plenty of, gooseberriqs; another foot in width would supply . all the strawberries, another foot raspberries; another, blackberries; another a month’s supply of potatoes; another, sweet petatoes; another with several fine messes of corn, and soon. There are 'ten feet planted, but give What I have named twenty feet, as almost any city back- yard could do, and they would grow wonderfully. Aback yard twenty by twenty would raise' plenty of small truck for two people, yet how many back yards are wasted!” A Sure Remedy in every case and every kind of Hemorrhoids 61' Files is, ' Salva-cea (mun-mun). This statement can’t be made too strong or too emphatic. i i It is a. simple,.~_certain, speedy cure for Rheumatism, Eczema, convulsions, chllblains, Sore Muscles, Burns, Toothache. Guts, Faccacho, Spralns, Bells, . Ulcers. lleuralgla, Sore Throat. Twa sizes, 25 and 50 cents. At druggists, or by mail. Tun Bananas-m Co., 27¢ Cum Si}, N. Y. GPEN ED. 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 Pref. George Yoerger. Norwalk, Conn or apply at this office. CENTRAL NATIONAL BANK, zo‘ WALL 512, N01: firALKx- ORPORATED SEPT. 1. 1876. nt’l'l‘AL. :- - - - - - 51006000 mm M . HOLMEs, President; . .Il. BOYEB. Vice-President. WILLIAM A. Cua'rrs, Cashier] numerous : ' anon M. HOLMES. H. E. DANN, 1., CUNNINGHAM, J. T. Pnowr'r'r g L. Berna, J . CousmsCJn. Illscount Bay, Saturdal- Having purchased the Market of E J. Vv’ADHAMS, I have WADI’IAHS HAS SOLD OUT- restocked the same with Meats, Fish Vegetables and Can- ned goods, and so- licit a share of your patronage. sGHARLES E. SGHEIIBERfir- 2 I Wall Street. WILLIAM S. KEMP, Carpenter -:- and -:- Builder, 34- West Main St.. Norwalk. Mr. Kemp has been a carpenter and builder in Norwalk for the past 25 years, and refers to ownr rs of buildings erected under his super- visiOn as to workmanship. Chilton Prior, Every gallon of paint 'made by the Chilton Mfg. Company is mixed and ground in pure Linseed Oil. All shades are mixed and ground by machinery seven times, making them uniform and even. ’Compare the size of cans and 'weight with the cheaper- makes. You get an honest gallon. Give it a trial and you will be convinced. H. s. WILLIAMS 17 Main St. LMIE-r corroms Cleaned and Grass Bleached. \No Acids Used. Nottingham, - - 65 Qents Brussels, net and lace, “75c Irish Point Applique, s I .00 Send postal card to TOCQUE’S . Dyeing and cleaning Works. Broad River, Norwalk; S. H. HOLMES
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