Sometimes persons become blind
from impure blood, Which develops
scrofulous ulcers on the eyeballs, iritis,
granulated eyelids, etc. In such cases
Hood’s Sarsaparilla has been marvel-
ously successful in restoring sight.
It shows its powers as a blood purifier
and radical cure for scrofula,‘ by
removing the cause, thus curing the
eyes and restoring all the affected
parts to healthy condition. Read this:
“As an act of justice and for the ben-
efit of other mothers who may have
~ afflicted children, I write this. -About
the first of February, 1892, my daughter
Zola, then three years old, contracted sore
eyes of the worst form and in a few weeks
was entirely blind, being unable to tol—
erate light of any kind. She suffered and
cried until I was almost heartbroken.
The best eye specialist in the county
treated her for months, but the
became worse. Then Itook her to a special-
ist' in Indianapolis, who said he could do
nothing. I came away with a heavy heart.
I met my father’s physician, Dr. Berry:
man, who examined Zola’s eyes, and told
me to try Hood’s Sarsaparilla. I began to
give it as directed and wash her eyes
with warm water. Soon I began to notice
improvement, and now, having given the
child over a half dozen bottles, her eyes
are greatly improved and she can see as.
Well as any one. She is five years of age,
and goes to school. When she began to
take Hood’s Sarsaparilla, she had to eat
her meals in a darkened room, but now
Cured
she is able to sit at the table with the
rest of the family.” MRS. OLLIE BUSER,
Colfax, Indiana. '
Leading Citizens
i!” Goifax,1nc1ud1ngJohnD. Blacke1, Township
dimstee, W. H. Coon, Druggist, and Dr. J. A.
Berryman, cordially endorse this statement.
arms and many other similar cures prove that
Hoods
Sarsaparilla
Is the One True Blood Purifier. All druggists. $1.
Prepared only by C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.
- cureliverills, easytotake
HOOd ’S Pills easy to operate. 25 cents:
illIILY FREIGHT LINE
NORWALK.
so. NORWALK
AND
NEW YORK.
Propellers
[fifty of Norwalk,
Vulcan and Eagle.
Leave N orwalk at 5 p. m. _
Leave So, Norwalk at 6 p. 111.
Leave New York, Pier 23,
E. H., Beekman St., 5 p m,
i
HERf’S YOUR DIIMIDE...
A fine building lot on Wilton ave-
nue. If youfl'intend to build, look at
this be fore purchasing.
Water, gas and sewer on the avenue.
b'wm be sold at a Bargain.
WM. H. BYINGTON,
Ileal Eslale and “Insurance,
Room I. Gazette B’I’d.
‘ .. . .-....1. n‘ .L.'.'
“N o snipe shooting to-morrow, sir.”
The officer of the life patrol paused
with lighted lantern on his arm, his
sou’we‘ster buttoned close up to his
throat and the peak Of his oilskin cap
pulled far down over his weatherbeatetn
face and passed out into the night.
As he opened the door a gust of wind
swept the knob from his grasp, dashed
the framework against the wall of the
chamber and extinguished the flicker-
ing oil.lamp that made shift to render
visible the darkness of the room.
Clarence Baxter hastily fastened the
door after the retreating figure, re-
lighted‘ the lamp and sat down on the
sea chest which served as a chair and a.
bed. A strange place it was, this beach-
comber’s cabin. Timbers from every
ship that had come ashore 'on Coffin
beach these 50 years were woven into
its heterogeneous framework. Here a.
part of a steamship’s deckhouse, there
a stanchion from the sturdy hull of some
long-forgotten merchant-man, yonder
the patched wainscoting of a clipper
ship’s once gorgeous cabin—cheek-by-
jc-wl these relics of departed pride
stood like monuments of the dead past
in some strange nautical cemetery.
Outside the gale raged with increas-
ing fury. Low though it sat between
the sand dunes, the solid walls of the
hovel trembled and rocked under the
impact of the blast like a ship in a
heavy sea. Such a spring storm had not
been seen on the coast for years—not
since the night (as a veteran told after-
W ard) w hen the clipper ship Bucephalus
came ashore’ way back in the ’50s. In
the angle over there the prow of this
vessel formed a sort of cornerstone for
the strange structure, and the horse in
the figurehead stared at Baxton with
the sightless eyes of an emblem of death.
He would have been puzzled to explain
why he felt so strangely, left alone in
this cozy cabin. Baxton was not a
superstitious man, nor one given to
sentimental vagaries or emotional weak- ’
nesses, and yet, as the door swung to
after the officer, he felt for a moment a.
strange and unaccountable thrill—a
chilling of the blood—a consciousness
of something outside of his sphere of
influence, superior to his power of con—
trol, that was gradually but sure-1y
working its will around and about him.
the feeling was not one of fear. What,
indeed, was he to be afraid of? Surely
not of the storm, for he was cozily
housed. Not the thieves or marauders,
for he and the coast guardsmen were
the only human beings on that strip of
beach. Of what, then, was he fearful?
It was all nonsense, he said—he was not
afraid at all.
Baxton shivered as he threw another
piece of driftwood on the fire and drew
closer to the green—blue blaze of the
copper-stained timber that cast fan-
tastic, many-hued shadows on‘ the
rough walls. “No going back to the
mainland to-night,” he thought, as the
picture of the storm-lashed bay rose
before his mind, and he silently ob-
jurgated the secretary of the treasury
who had promulgated the order for-
bidding the life-saving men to entertain
guests in their cozy stations
The tea chest was filled with old
newspapers, the officer had said, with
which he might, perhaps, while away an
hour. He lifted the lid. Yes—so it
was—prints running .back for many
years, tied up and labeled in a cramped
handwriting—that of Calamity Dick’s,
probably, the fisherman who, until his
death last year, had occupied this cabin
since no man remembered when. Turn-
ing them over, Baxton saw that the
packets contained clippings‘ descripv
tive of the wrecks on this same stretch
of sand, called Coffin beach—“Cemetery
oeach would be better,” Baxton thought,
as be surveyed the yellow bundles.
“Bark Excelsior, June, 1842,” read one;
mache, January, 1843, 28 drowned, none
saved,” read another “Ship Harold,”
16 drowned, four saved; “Clipper Van-
guard, 86 drowned, 15 saved,” and so on
through a pile of packages that reached
knee .high as he laid them on the floor.
Near the bottom was a larger bundle
labeled “Clipper Bucephalus, March,
1856, 122 drowned, four saved.” Where
had he heard of thatship? “Buceph-
alus—Bucephalus,” he repeated,reflect-
ively, to himself. “Oh, yes, the ship the
old figure-head came from,”
began to untie the dusty package.
But slowly it came back to him that
he had heard the name before he came
to Coffin beach. “Where ?” As he asked
the question a newspaper, bearing the
date 1856, lay.r spread before him, and
his eyes rested on the headlines: “Clip-
per Ship Bucephalus, Liverpool to New
York, Ashore on Coffin Beach, April
26. The ill-fated vessel, which was
owned by H. B. Baxton & Co., — Front
street, this city, missed its reckoning
and ran ashore on Coffin beach at
three o’clock on the morning of Tues-
day last and became a total wreck.
The life-saving crew at this place, one
of the most dangerous points on the
coast, is not on duty at this season of
the year. At ten o’clock on the follow-
ing morning, before anything could be
done to rescue the crew and passen-
gers, the ship went to pieces in the
terrific surf that was running. Of the
\ship’s company, 82 steerage passengers.
six cabin passengers and 34 of the crew
were drowned. The second mate, Mr.
. Lalor, and three sailors came ashore
alive on pieces of wreckage—the sole
survivors of the disaster. The captain,
W. B. Wilkins, perished with his ship.
Mr. Lalor, who was seen by a corre-
spondent of this paper yesterday, states
that the vessel’s loss was due to the
fact that her owner had neglected to
provide a proper ch ronometer, although
repeatedly warned of the peril run by
the lack of this essential instrument.
itan- merchants for his great wealth and
extreme parsimony. It 1s said that the
matter will be laid before the authori-
ties, in order that the cause of the
wreck may be“ thoroughly sifted, and
the blame for this terrible sacrifice of
innocent lives placed where it belongs.”
THE SHIP BUCEPHALUS. I
' Dick's cramped script:
“.30 drowned, two saved;” “Ship Andre-.-
and he .
‘Mr. Baxton is noted among metropol- .
clipping was scrawled 'in ”Calamity
“And 30 of ’em
wimin,an and Lalor says the captain died
a cussin’ the owner as the seas swept
’ them pore folks often the. deck mto the
surf.”
Bax-ton stared at the paper before
him. My God! he had heard of the
Bucephalus before.
True, he was not born until years
after this terrible event, yet the memory
of it had poisoned all of his mother’s
remaining days. “Baxter, the Bucc-
phalus Murderer,” he had heard some-
body say in his father’s lifetime, but
until to-night he never knew the mean-
ing of the words. And here, on the very
scene of the horror, the son of its author
was domiciled undler the cabin walls
of that long-lost- ship. Yonder its fig-
urehead mocked him with staring eyes!
“The hull is breaking up!” It is no
longer the fisherman’s house, but the
cabin of a sinking ship. See how the
timbers strain and wrench as the keel
pounds on the remorseless: sand; hear
how the waves thunder on the deck
above, as though to crush the trembling
fabric; listen to the creaking of the
ovenstrained timbers! The water is
slowly rising yonder, where the cabin
floor is lowest. Who are these that“
crowd down the compan-ionway—wom-
en scantily clad—terror in their eyes,
their hands bleeding, their naked feet
raw from contact with the cruel ropes?
One is an aged gentlewoman who leans
feebly on the shoulders of a young man
—her gray hair streams over her brow,
her dim eyes look with a mother’s ten-
der love on her son’s resolute young
face. All these poor creatures are
chilled with exposure, week with suf-
fering. Two of the women lead, an-
other carries a child. “Better to drown
here,” says one, bitterly, “than to
freeze to death on deck.” (Baxton does
not hear these words, but he sees the
lips move and knows what they are say-
ing.) Then the little group huddles
close together in the gloom, the mothers
gather their children to their breasts,
and one, an ancient gentlewoman, prays
silently, as she locks hands with the
stripling. “I pray Thee, 0 Father, if
it be Thy will, take me and spare him.”
* * » * Now the pale- lips of the worn—
an are still, her head sinks on her breast
and the son rises with a terrible cry—
(Baxton cannot hear that cry, but he
sees the man’s awful eyes and knows
what he says). “My mother is dead!”
Then the waves pound harder on the
deck, the timbers shrink and creek and
groan, the fabric lifts and falls with
dull, terrible thuds—it is high tide——
the ship is breaking up. Although it
is day, the cabin grows darker and
darker. The water rises higher. Bax-
ton must save himself. He staggers
across the heaving floor where mother
and son lie dead in each other’s arms,
reaches the companionway, gains the
deck—and then, before him, over the
shattered bulwarks, to which clings
half a hundred miserable, drowning
creatures, looms a great towering wall
of green water. Lashed to the mizzen
shrouds, the captain, trumpet in hand,
sees not the coming avalanche—his
glance rests only on the face that is
emerging from the companionway— —.—
Baxton’ s face. Casting off the rope that
holds him to this place of safety, with
livid stare and blazing eye, he points
straight at Baxton.
“Sec, see,” he cries, “the. murderer
Baxtonl Curses on you—curses on you
—cursesl” In a second it was over.
The monstrous hill of water, the double
wave that marks the flood-tide, strikes
the shattered ship a full, fair blow,
mounts as high as the yardarm, clear
over the decks, shatters the weakened
hull to fragments and bears down mast-
and bowsprit in one common ruin, amid
an awful grinding and crushing and a
splintering of timbers. Then rises a.
great shriek that pierces to heaven oven
the tumult of the sea (B: {ton cannot
hear that shriek, but he feels it), fol-
lowed by the boiling sect-he of waters-
and the wave passes on, leaving naught-
to tell the fate of the Bucephalus save :1
few scattered spars, a few battered
corpses (ghastly playthings of the tide)
and—that is all.
The following is from the Daily Rec-
ord of April 28, 18—:
“A strange accident happened at Cof-
fin Beach on Friday last. Clarence Bax-
ton, a well-known New Yorker, went
dowu on Thursday for a bit of snipe
shooting, expecting to return that
night. Prevented from doing so by the
storm, he sought refuge in a fisher-
man’s cabin on the beach, where the
life patrol left him at 10 o'clock in the-
evening, comfortably housed and pro-
vided with light and fuel. The tide rose
to an extraordinary height during the
night, so much so that the flood wave
(as the last wave of the high tide is
called) swept clear over the sand dunes
that line the beach, overwhelmed the
cabin and swept it out to sea, carrying
with it the unfortunate gentleman,
whose body was cast up on the shore by
the returning 'tide next morning. Not
a vestige of the cabin remained, save the
figureheod of a ship, which formed part
of the structure. It is curious to note
that the succeeding ebb tide, which was
an extremely low one, exposed upon the
beach the hull of a large ship, supposed
to be the remains of the clipper Buccph-
alus, which was wrecked on the sands
some forty years ago. The deceased.
was the son of the late H. B. Baxton, a
prominent merchant of this. city.”—
Vanity.
—Bigotry has no head and cannot
think; no heart, and cannot feel. When
she moves, it is in wrath; when she
pauses, it is amid ruin; her prayers are
curses—her god is a demon—her com-
munion is. death—her vengeance is eter-
nity—her decalogue written in the
blood of her victims; and if she stops a
moment in her infernal flight, it is
upon a kindred rock, to whet her vul-
tion .——-Daniel 0 Connell.
’5
-—The Brooklyn bridge is 278 feet.
above the river. . 7
1-,
In‘ pencil across the margin -. of the
tune fang for a more sanguinary des-ola- .
h _. " RUINED , BY P_IE.
Love for This Pastry Ba‘rred’Hln’Out of
the Pulpit and Drove Him to Forgery.
A most singular case is’ now in the
courts at Kingston, in this'state. A
young man living there was lately
found to be a forger, and when he con-.
fessed he said he was driven to the
crime by an ungovernable gluttony for
mince pie. To satisfy his craving he
had forged the signature of a wealthy
and had got the paper discounted, says
the Buffalo Courier. With the proceeds
he went on a mince-pie spree, and had
devoured sixty dollars’ worth of this
pastry before he was arrested.
According to his story his extraordi-
nary liking for mince pie began to
show itself when he was a boy. He
seemed even then to feel that there
was something abnormal in his appe-
tite, for he went voluntarily to Bloom-
ingdale asylum in the ‘hope of being
cured of his gluttony. After he came
out he believed he was cured and be-'
gan to study for the ministry. But
in a. fatal hour, about two years later,
the mania for pie came upon him
with irresistible power. He broke
into the housekeeper’s closet in the
Auburn Theological seminary, where
he was a student, and gorged himself
with mince pie. His relapse so preyed
upon him that he went to the faculty,
and they advised him, he says, to drop
his ' studies, as it would be det-
rimental to the ministerial call-
ing for him to enter it with
such a fatal appetite for mince pie. He-
would be likely to suffer a. seizure of his
mania at a supper in the church parlors
or at the table of one of his flock, and'
create an unforgetable scandal. He.
took the advice of the faculty and
went to peddling clothes-wringers and
bed springs, but his malady was now
so deep seated that -he subordinated
everything to his craving. He devel-
oped an unusual cunning for stéaling
mince pie, or in getting the money
with which to purchase it. “I would
be tempted,” said he, “and fall; go to a
restaurant and eat a. pie and a half or
two pies. I became as helpless a vic-
tim to the mince pie habit asthe drunk-
ard is to the drink habit. Sometimes I
have pawned my overcoat or my watch
when I have seen an uncommonly
luscious pie in a window and have not
had enough ready money to: buy it.”
_ Then came the forging of the note
and the pie orgy which ended in his ar-«
rest. After hearing his story a com-
mission was appointed to inquire into
his sanity, and it is likely that, in-
stead of being sent to a penitentiary,
he will be placed in a. lunatic asylum.
He is described as a thin, nervous-look-
ing man with a wild expression, which
is disappointing, for many a man of
New England ancestry would be glad
to cultivate this lunacy if it would not.
spoil his complexion and keep him
awake nights.
HOW WOM EN’S WHEELS DEVELOP
Only a. Few Years Ago Manufacturers
Would Not Make Them.
It affords the pioneer women cyclers.
no little amusement and satisfaction to
recall the days when bicycle manufac-
turers, in reply to requests for women’s
wheels, would say with emphasis:
“We have never manufactured a wom-
an’s wheel and we never will.” In
those early days of wheeling, bicycles.
for American women were imported
from England. One woman who had
never seenabicycle, but had read of
them and was possessed of the true
wheeling spirit, bought one of these
cumbrous machines. It had wheels
thirty inches high, weighed over fifty
pounds, had a solid tire and cost one
hundred and forty dollars. The first
ride of the owner Upon this machine of
solid weight and worth covered ten
miles, and produced a sprained ankle,
a black eye and an entirely demolished
gown. The rider’s spirit was unbroken;
however, and, after a. rest of two
weeks, she mounted again and rode to
victory. In these days of teachers,
trainers and countless comfortable ap-
pliances, it is refreshing to know of
these Spartan achievements.
While many women ride diamond
frames and an increased number will
doubtless continue to do so, the radical
differences between a man’s wheel and
a woman’s will always be the drop
frame. When the bicycle is regarded
simply as a vehicle and not as a ctoy or
machine for display, the majority of
women Will probably wear skirts. A
short skirt of sensible length avoids the
actual danger of entanglement in chain
or pedals. Still the inventor who can
find any method of placing the chain
under cover in a drop frame, without
adding to the weight of the wheel, will
meet a “long-felt want.” Along this
line the especial development of the
woman’s machine must come.
Out of the multitude of counselors is
finally coming wisdom on the subject
of woman’s bicycle dress. The latest
results attained enable a rider to go
fitted for any kind of weather. She
may start 1n low shoes, heavy woolen
stockings, knickerbockers and light-
weight silk blouse on a hot summer
morning, with a soft, round felt hat or
cap with visor to protect her eyes. She
can also carry a small package, and, if
it rains, take from that package a. jacket
with square revers, which button back
Ion themselves or across each other.
- The jacket, knickerbockers and cap are
all rainproof. If it grows colder she
may don leggins and skirt of a length
' above the ankles, also rainpr 00f. Thus
quuipped the can defy the elementst
The greatest stress should be placed
upon a jacket which will cover the ches.
and protect the lungs if necessary.
Her Only Chance.
On the corner of two Boston streets 3.
young man was pee1ing through a sur-
veyor ’s leveling instrument and making
signals to his partner, who stood in
front of the schoolhouse above. A little
girl, coming from out the schoolhouse
later than her mates, caught sight of
the instrument, smoothed out her dress
and pesed' 1n front of it. A big police-
man came along. “Move on, little one,”
said he. “I can’t,” simpered the child.
“Don’t you see. I m getting my picture
took?”
man to a note for one thousand dollars, ~
'1’ "
, o
- _
A: TIMI» .U: 91iUC’...;lAN.
Wlfiteomb’s Gen”; us Tiffiied an Old Fiddle ’
Into a Thing. of Beauty.
J aincs, Whitcomb Weed
and he was not only a politician, but-one
of the best amateur musicians in the
country. , IIe composed. several pieces
for the violin, which was his chosen
instrument, and many are the stories
told of him and his fiddle.
At one time, says the Pittsburgh Dis-
patch, he was traveling from Indianapo-
lis to eastern Indiana, and stopped for
the night at a house on a lonely road.
He entered the cabin with his compan-
ion, and there they found a lame young
man called ’Amos‘, sitting by the fire
scraping at an old violin with most’dis-
astrous results.
He laid the violin on the bed’ and
started away to the stable with the“
horses. Mr. Whitcomb at once took up ;
the violin, tuned it, and when Amos re-r :
turned was playing light and beauti-
ful airs. , Amos was entranced. He- sat
down, and, mouth wide open in wOncler‘,
watched the musician. Then Mr. Whit--
comb struck up “Hail 6’01un1bia,” and
the y outh; could bear it no longer. He
sprang to- his feet.
“If I had $50, ” cried he; “.I’d give it”
all for that" fiddle! I never heard such
music.”
Mr. Whitcomb said nothing, but kept
on playing. By and by, when he had
finished, he laid the violin on the bed.
This was the young man’s opportunity.
He sprang up, seized the instrument,
carried it to the fire, where he could see
more plainly, and turned it‘ over and
over, examining every part.
“Mister,” he sang out, in high excite-y
ment. “I never'in my life see two fid-
dles so much alike as yours and mine!”
‘ VICISSITU'DES OF LIFE.
Sequel to an Experience of a Struggling
Young Author.
“Yo on remember my telling you
awhile ago, when we were talking about
the vicissitudes of life,” said a; strug-
gling young author, according to the
New York Sun, “about an experience
that I had once? I had a. number'of
manuscripts, you remember, which I
desired to sell and which I sent out to
the publications I thought thenr best
suited for. One after another they'came
back, until they had all come back but-
one. Thalia one, in my. own judgment,
was much the best of the lot, and Jihad
built strong hopes upon it; and when.
so to speak, it still didn’t come back, I
felt sure that it had been accepted.
But after waiting awhile longer and not
hearing from it, I wrote, asking about
it, and the publisher wrote me a polite
note. saying they had no record of it; it
had never been received.
“That was tlhe story as I told it to
you, and I supposed that that was the
end of it; and it was pretty tough,
wasn’t it? But now let me tell you the
sequel.
“Of course I wrote apolite note in
reply to the publisher; and in that note
I described the manuscript and said'
that perhaps it mighlt yet be found;
and later it was found, and, by snakes,
they returned it!
“That was solemn; but it was one of
those things that are so everlastingly;
gosh-blastedly solemn that you have to-
laugh over ’em; and there can’t be
anything very terrible in anything that
you can laugh over; so, you see, come to-
take it altogether, that experience was
not. very distressing after all.”
M08 1' PECULIAR ROOSTER.
Be Very ‘Much Resembles- a Bird of Paro-
adlse.
To see a rooster that resembles abird
of paradise is a rare sight, but such a
one has recently been a- common spec-n
tacle in Japan, says the New York
“’orld.
This particular fowl was, apart from
his gorgeous appendage, of the ordinary-
type found in Japan, except that he was
a. little more proud in his bearing than
his fellows. g
It may have been his manner that first
led to his selection as‘the bearer of a
most magnificent tail. The brief history
that can be obtained of this
rooster is silent on that point. It prob-
ably was selected because only an arro-
gant, lordly manner could support such
a. wonderful and variegated appendage.
Be that as it may, the rooster did cer-
tainly have a tail 16 feet long. In it were
all the bright colors imaginable. The
tail was far more brilliant in its color-
ings than the shining feather-fan of'a
peacock.
The neighbors of the J ap displayed no
interest in the freak bird, but were
amused by those who expressed admirer
tion and wonder, who were invariably
foreign travelers.
Then it was discovered that the bean-
tiful long tail was not a freak of nature,
but the clever, work of the ingenious
J ap, who had fashioned and fastened the
tail in such a. way as to defy detection
except after the most minute scrutiny.
A Japanese Lady Politician.
The most remarkable woman in poli-
tics in Japan is Mme. Hatoyama. When
her husband, a leader of the progres-
sionist party, ran for parliament, she
took the stump and. made speeches
in his interest—a very extraordinary
thing for a Japanese lady to do. She is
now a. teacher in the academy of which
her husband is principal.
Effect of Tree Destruction.
The influence of forests in protecting
the water supply is well illustrated in
the case of Greece. In ancient days she
possessed 7,500,000 acres of forest. To-
day she has hardly 2,000,000 acres, and
the scarcity of water and other injuri-
ous climatic effects are traceable to
the destruction of the trees.
' 1’
The Trees in London.
Within the memory of many persons
London was once like many American
cities, absolutely treeless—not‘hingbwt
brick, stone and mortar being seen any-
where. Of late years intelligent horti-
culture has been drawn into service.'
and trees and shrubs are being planted
cveryw here.
prominent . '7
citizen. of Indiana in her early days,‘
freak .
' 3 Intramuscular, ,
A Gold in the Head,
The quickest way to i ,
get rid of it—the simplest ,
and surest—no bother, no -
trouble—is with
Salva-cea
(mos-um)»
It cures Gama-£1.11:
.jcures all inflammation. It
', cures ‘
:Pilos. ._,sun. 11......
’Sore Throat, Burns, '
Toothache, Wounds,
w .'."I.>:l..‘—.'l~ .' m.-
giaraebe. Sue Muscles,
pllomlgla. Iiheamallsm.
'l‘wosizes, 25 and accents.
.. Atd'ruggists, or by'mail.
ji'l’un B'muman'rn Co., 27‘ Cum. Sr" N. V.
r
J. D. Jennings.
UN DERTAKER
1 Knight street. opposite
StreetRailway Depot
Burn-AI-‘ozmmx.
LWWUUD'S LIGHEGEPABEEI‘VE’EM’
Cheap rates. Will- also take orders for mes
0011ng service in New York. Goods called
01. and delivered to}:3 9.131 pvrts of the town.‘
orders received atE eed’s Drug Store.
IWfll Street. with telIthone connection un-
(1 E LOCKWOOD.
CENTRAL NATIONAL BliNK,
. 26 WALL 191., NOBWALK.‘
ORPORATED SEPT. 1. 18%..
API'I‘AL. :- ‘- - - - - $100.00C
mm M. Homuns. President;
. .h. Bums, Vice-President.
WILLIAM A. Gnarls. Cashier-
nmncrons :
user: M. Homins, H. E. DANE.
L. CUNNINGHAM, J. T. Pxown‘r
151.14. Borne. 8.11. How-E
J. Cousins. J n.
ulscnml flay, Saturdav-
Having purchased
'- the Market of E. J.
- ’ WADHAMS, I have-
WADIIIII‘S
IIAS
SOLD
. , DIIT-
restocked the same
1. with Meats, Fish.
" Vegetables and Can-
ned goods, and so
lieit a-share of your.
'1
patronage.
saunas E. senrunrna
2| Wall Street.
WILLIAM S. KEMP,
Carpenter -:- and -:- Builder...
34» West Main St.. NorwalK.
Mr: Kemp has been a carpenter a d builder
in Norwalk for the past 25 years, an refers to
owners of buildings erected under his super-
vision as to workmanship.
'Chilton- Paint.
Every gallon of paint made by the
Chilton Mfg. Company is missed 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. H. WILLIAMS “
17 Main St.
SPECIAL SALE
—OF—-—
5
SATURDAY IIIID MDIIDAY, MAY 9-".
A Reduction of 25 per cent on all
Trimmed Hats. and Bonnets. Ladies
desiring a nice Trimmed Hat for little
money, will do well to attend this sale.
F AWCE TT’S
11 0121711.;
MILLINERY
«t
1.1
Norwalk Chronicler