I’d always shine on holidays.
Were I the sun:
On sleepy heads I‘d never gaze,
But focus all my morning rays
On busy folks of bustling ways, I
Were I the sun.
"Blind
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
Sore
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
I would not melt a sledding snow,
Were I the sun:
Nor spoil the ice Where skaters go,
Nor help those useless weeds to grow,
But hurry “13101159011. you know,
Were I the sun. ,
I’d warm the swimming pool just right,
Were I the sun;
On school days I would hide my light
The Fourth I‘d always give you bright
Nor set so soon on Christmas night,
Were I the sun.
I would not heed such paltry toys,
Were I the sun—
Such work as grown-up men employs;
But I would favor solid joys- .
In short. I’d run the world for boys. .‘
Were I the sun. -
-Amcs R Wells, in St. Nicholas.
MY COUSIN MARY. i
It was my sad fortune, from earliest
boyhood up, to be a failure in all ways.
I was not so handsome as could have
been expected in the son of my beauti-
ful mother and the young father who
died before I was born, and who was
also beautiful, I was told. I was not
brilliant, though both sides of the
house showed men and women of ex-
cellent ability, and, worst of all, I was
not good, though this puzzled me not a
little as a child, for my intentions were
of a magnificent order, and the result-
ant behavior not' nearly so reprehensi-
ble as that of many boys I knew, less
punished.
But, in some way, the things I meant
to do failed of accomplishment, or were
found, when accomplished, to have
most unhappy consequences; and the
things I did under pressure of disci-
pline were seldom satisfactory.
Years of reproof and often overheard
‘complaint as to my trying disposition
finally convinced me of my unworthi-
ness, and in time I grew to look at my
life as a failure, merely an opportunity
for asm-uch self-indulgence as could be
procured without too great expense. ‘
Being of a lazy and luxurious dispo-
sition, I early fell into the habit of de-
riving an inexhaustible fund of pleas-
ure from more imagination of what
things might be: to console myself for
ineffectual struggle to make them such.
As a little boy I was sent to bed with
military precision by my inflexible
mother, usually with a sense of failure
and ill-doing in the day behind me,
and I used to lie mute and still in my
little chamber and make up to myself
in royal bursts of imagination for the
disappointments of the real life. How
often, so lain, and thought to be sound
asleep. I have, in spirit, not only es-
tablished my preeminent virtues by a
series of noble acts—so easy to imagine,
so difficult to perform in the gray irk-
someness of everyday life—but besides
this have I glutted my infant soul with
be sweet vengeance of magnanimity;
arranging unparalleled donations and
privileges to be conferred by me, me
the lamentable and unworthy son, upon
my grateful family and friends. One
sweetest joy of these fair dreams was
that,when I should be a man, my Cousin
Mary, who disliked me for the disagree-
able boy I was, should love and marry
me.
It was a sore problem with me in
those days to decide whether I should
indeed receive the open gratitude of
my beneficiaries, revelling gloriously
therein; or whether, proudest height of
power concealed, I should bestow all
benefits in secret, and yet remain con-
demned and criticised by the unwit-
ting recipients of my bounty. But my
Cousin Mary in these dreams always
loved me for myself alone, and then——
afterward—ah! the jewels I showered
upon her.
became worse. Then I took 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 notibe
improvement, and now, having given the
child over a half dozen bottlesyher eyes
are greatly improved and she can see as
well as any one. ‘ She is five years of age, ‘
53d goes to school.’ When she began to
take Hood’s Sarsaparilla, she had to eat
her meals in a darkened room, but now
Cu red
ll.” . . . », .
she is able to sit at the table with the
rest of the family.” MRS. OLLIE BUSER,
Colfax, Indiana.
Leading Citizens
‘6' Belfax, including John D. Blacker, Township
Yr’ustee, W. H. Coon, Druggist, and Dr. J. A.
Berrym‘an, cordially endorse this statement.
E'his and many other similar cures prove that
H o d’e
‘ SarSapari I la
is the One True Blood Purifier. A11 druggists. $1.
Prepared only by C. I. Hood 8: Co., Lowell, Mass.
. 1' ‘11 , t take,
Hood’s Pllls cure Iverl 5 easy 0
easy to operate. 250ents.
ilAlLl FREIGHT LINE
BETWEEN
AtswnK,
so. NORWALK
AND This habit of internally satisfying
‘ myself, of paying back in triumphant
J magnanimity for all “the stings and
NF W YOB K arrows of outrageous fortune” contin-
l I. ' ued with me as I grew, and remained
my best consolation after I had become
an unaspiring reporter on a great news-
paper. And still in my solitary cham-
ber downtown, when I was not so tired
as to sleep perforce in what hours re-
mained to me, I would console myself
for all the mortification of the day and
of all the other days in my unhappy
memory, by proud, unhampered visions
of what 1 would do under given condi-
tions of wealth and power.
Splendid conditions these, so ceasily
imagined, fitting so smoothly to my
shoulders as I planned and adapted
them. but ah! so laughably impossible
of attainment.
And then, all at once, by a chance no
stranger, to be sure, than many a one I
was in the daily «habit of recording,
there fell into my hands, not talent
and beauty and power, indeed, as I had
demanded in my boyish dreams. but
wealth practically unbounded, such
wealth as I could never of myself have
earned, or won, or found, or in any
least or faintest way deserved. ,
To be sure, I had been laying myself
out on'the old fellow, as I should never
have dared to do had I known him for
a millionaire, but that was not for be-
nevolence, but a purely selfish ”appre-
ciation of his boundless fund of travel
and experience. His society was worth
money to me besides the pleasure of it,
and therefore did I court him assidu-
ously, with many an entertainment
and excursion, which again were no
credit to my generosity, for had I not
the interminable tickets and passes and
the duty of going to all these weary
things?—’a duty much lightened by the
society of the lounging, invalid old
gentleman, whom I supposed no richer
than myself.
I told him my story, such'as it was;
and I am fain to think that some sub-
tle sympathy, some consciousness of a
similar experience in his own boyhood,
made him take more of an interest than
, I then suspected in this poor series of
/ ' . failures I called my life. ‘
I ' sThen he died very suddenly and
. Real ESIaAe lalld Insurance; serenely, leaving mesome unbelievable
‘9 L, - , . , millions, and as no .one but his solicitor
, knew that he had any money, so no
one knew that Ihad any; and behold
’ me forthwith in exactly the position
of my childish heart’s‘desire!
Propellers
way of Norwalk,
Vulcan and. Eagle.
Leave N orwalk at 5 p. m,
Leave 80. N orwalk at 6 p. 111.
Leave New York, . Pier '23,
E. PL, Beekman St., 5p m,
Asses YOUR cannons
A fine building lot on Wilton ave-
nue If you intend to build, look at
this before purchasing.
".Vater, gas and sewer on the avenue.
Will be sold at a Bargain.
W. H. BYINGTON,
Room I. Gazette ‘B’l’d. .. '
\l . .-
WERE I THE SUN. -.
4"“
'What joy! W at wild, nee . rap.
ture of plans, with occasional bursts
of fancy which even I dismissed.
as quite untenable.
I . had no longer any faintest hope
of marrying my Cousin Mary. She
was quite taken up with another
cousin, Fred by name, and would have
married him long since, no doubt, had
he been able to support a. family. But
he was proud, and would not marry
until he could offer something to his
wife. ' I knew that, for he had told me
so.
However, it was now my delicious
fate to be able to arrange matters for
these two ‘so that they should be able
to marry; neither knowing how it had
come about, nor in the least corner of
their hearts suspecting me. Then
with what swelling pride should 1 look
upon their happiness and know that I
had given it—I, who so far had given
only trouble and mortification to my
family! -
It was an easy matter to make my
mother’s last (years comfortable; and
ah! the 'pleasure, the selfish pride I
took in remembering small personal
wishes and‘gratifying them bit by bit,
while never suspected! ‘
It was an easy matter, too, through
my agent, to buy the -very paper on
which Iwrote; to slowly dismiss the
men-who were a disgrace to it, to pro-
mote and engage men whose work
made it a great voice soon, and through
it, slowly to win the public confidence
and work my will, little by little,
among the affairs of the city. Such a
splendid game it was to arouse public
enthusiasm over some free ba‘ths, or
children’s play-ground scheme or
other, to start subscription lists, and
covertly head them myself; to machin-
ate safely and quietly through my
great pages, and all the while having
my copy refused half the time, and the
other fellows wondering how I kept
my place.
All this, and much more, was easy
and exciting; more of a triumph and a
joy even than I had ever imagined it
would be; but my pet scheme of
schemes hung fire a little. Fred got
his new position. in aperfectly natural
manner; he was a good fellow and de-
served it. Still there was no sign of
an engagement between him and my
Cousin Mafy. Then I thought, being
an independent girl, she might be
waiting to have something of her own;
and after as pretty a bit of finesse as I
ever saw in my life, if it was my own
invention—and small wonder, for had
I not schemed at suchpleasant mir—
acles since I was eight years old?—I
managed to provide her with a neat
little fortune of her own. Still no re-
sult. So one day when I was at home
—I did not go often, for mother would
always lecture me on my habits, and
somehow I never could entirely get
over the hurt of it, big as I was—I
chanced to be alone with my Cousin
Mary for as much of an evening as she
would be willing to bear my company.
I felt very happy to see how beauti-
fully she was dressed in these days,
how her hands were white already,
and grown smooth again where the
delicate fingers used to be rough with
countless needle pricks. The house
was a comfortable one now, my mother
was far easier in her mind and there-
fore a sweeter companion.
Everything looked pleasant around
Mary, and I told her how glad I was to
see it.
I did not tell her how glad I was to
see her, how in all the rich and varied
joy of my present position, as in all the
unutterable weariness and dullness of
my former state, to see her was the
keenest delight I ever felt, or ever
hoped to feel. Calm, strong, beautiful
woman that she was; perfect in loveli-
ness of face and ,form and character—
mine would be a poor triumph, after
happy.
I sat watching her, and she watched
the leaping flames of the fire; and I
wondered clumsily in what possible
way I could force her into the happi-
ness which should be hers, when all at
once she rose and come to my side.
“Cousin Tom,” she said, in that de-
licious voice {of hers, “why don’t you
amount to more—why don’t you do
yourself justice in some way? Is it”—
and here she blushed beautifully—but
the cousinship gave her courage, and
she went on. “Is it for lack of money
to make a start with? Because, you
know, I am quite rich now—because I
want you to let me—you’ll forgive my
awkwardness, won’t you?——to let me
give you some of it, Tom, a whole pile
of it.” , '
That bless d, generous, self-forget-
ting creature! She looked so lovely as
she said it that my poor brain swam7
dizzily.
“No,” said I, at length, “it is not lack
of money, my dear Cousin Mary, but
sheer personal incapacity that prevents
my amounting to anything. I am an
ordinary, stupid fellow at best, and
my family are too clear-headed to give
me that blind, loving faith which makes
even stupid fellows do very well some?
times.”
“You are not stupid,” she cried, “nor
ordinary. I know you better than you
think. You could be something splen-
‘did if you chose. Why don’t you
[choose‘f’
And then she looked at me with such
2 an earnest, tender, believing glance as
i fairly drove me to her feet.
* “0h, Mary, you blessed angel!” I
cried to her; “could you—would you—
is it possible that you, after all, "can
’ find it in your sweet heart to make a.
place for such a useless good-for-noth-
ing as I?”
DAnd then my Cousin Mary just came
into my arms and comforted my sore
heart with a thousand tender words of
hope and faith. And she said the
sweetest joy of joys to .her was that
now she was really able to help me
with her precious little fortune. And
since she values it so much I have let
her help me with it 'always. As if any
fortune. great or small, were to be
mentioned in the same breath with her
love l—The— Impress.
.4...
—-Music is the harmonious voice of
creation; an echo of the invisible
world; one note of the divine concord
which the entire, universe is destined
one day to sound.—-Ma‘azini.
a a E; v sear-no
For instance, '
all, if I could not contrive to make her _
N matter what you’ve
, tried and found want- ‘
ing—the remedy fer-Piles
Sa
.1:-
(TRADE-MARK). cea
A quick remedy—a sure
remedy. Whether they’re
blind, or bleeding, or itch-
ing, there’s always prompt
relief and a. permanent
cure. '
Salva—cea is the best
thing in the world‘ for
Gaiarrh, .. Golds, ,
. Eczema, . .Sall Rheum,
coughs, lloh,
_, Earaohe, Sores,
and every ailment that an
external remedy can reach.
Two sizes, 2 5 and 50 cents.
' At druggists, or 1) mail.
Tun anaarn Co., 274 ANAL St. N. Y.
J. D. Jennings.
UN D EKTAK ER
1 Knight stleei .cpposite
Street 138.1an3 Depot
BELL A] OFFICE.
I I l" LIGHT PARCEL and
LUbKWUUflé PACKAGE DELIVERY
Cheap rates, Will also take orders for mes
wager service in New York. Goods called
0. and delivered to all arts of the town,
orders received atE P. eed’s Drug Store.
2W all Street, with telephone connection un.
‘ 0 o- E. ALOCKWOOD.
CENTRAL NATIONAL BANK,
20' IVALL ST”, N OR WALK. "
ORPOBATED SEPT. 1. 1876.
APPEAL. :' ‘ " ' ' ‘ $1009“
mm M. HOLMES, President.
. .u. Berna, Vice-President.
\VILLIAM A. CURTIS, Cashier
DIRECTORS» :
case M. Homers, H. E. DANN,
h. CUNNINGHAM, J. T. PBowrr'r
n. L. Bornn, S. H. HOLME
.1 J. COUSINSJJR.
elscount Day, Salurdav.
Having purchased
the Market ofE. J.
WAOHAMS
HAS
SOLD
OUT-
restocked the same
with Meats, Fish
Vegetables and Can-
ned goods, and so-
licit a share of your
patronage
sOHAHLES E. 'SONEIIBEHJD-
2| Wall Street.
WILLIAM S. KEMP,
Carpenter -:- and -:- Builder,
34 West Main ea; Norwalk.
. Mr. Kemp has been a carpenter and builder
1n Norwala for the past 25 years. and refers to
owners of buildings erected under his super-
v1510n as to workmanship.
Chilton. Paint,
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. H. WILLIAMS
17 Main St.
SPECIAL SALE
MILLINERY
SA‘l'llllllAY “ENEMY, MAY ll-ll.
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.
amounts
3 WATER 513E151. Non WALK
g
.-..u-,~uw-u—~-.r._... . ..
WADHAMS, I have ‘
a.
Av».--
:ST
. .-B,I.cxstl:;.. '
N erND oEl .~
\ (Cicerone;
\
, the"
‘ fellow
. o , .
is known throughout cycling as a. li ht, staunch
stylish, speedy mount. .,Thcre’s a g t in every:
thing; the ’96 Steams is a. veritable edition dc luxc
among bicycles. Finished in blacker orange.
Stcarns riders are satisfied riders, and, always
proud as kings of their mounts.
Your address will insure receipt of our hand-
some new catalpgua
Eo' c. STEARNS & C0" Makers, symse’ N. Y.
Buffalo, N. Y. Toronto, Ont.
San Francisco, Cal.
BULKLEY & 60., Agents, SOUTH NORWALK.
H. R.
1896 Hartford Bicycles “EDHNTL‘M'c'E.
Patterns Nos. l and 2,,from $80 to $65
“ . 3 “ 4, “ 60to 5O
5 6, 50 to 45‘
. This is the best value for the money offered in the medium grade machines.
The' r. s. Ambler cycle 38., 29 Wall Street.
i
If‘ you Don’t believe it, Come and See.
Lalesl ’96
~ Pallern.
Built to Sell at
' Top Price.
"fig—Eras ,,
Full Guarantee.
(7-17}, K\jlfli~
\N‘y Easy Terms
WE ARE NOT IN THE COMBINE.
For Terms and Lease of Norwalk'Fair Grounds, apply 0:-
LUTHER M. WRIGHT,
carriage Factory and Repository, Franklin & Madison Sis... So. llorwalk...
PIEHOE,
AMES,
LIGHT,
OOLUM’HUS,
NOHSMAN,
NORMAN,
DIANA,
“a “F
l
Branch Shops at Broad River and Darlen.
THE WHITE SHOE STORE ‘
Is still in the lead. We shall sell all of our Ladies"
$2.00 and $2.50 Tan, Lace and Button Shoes: at
$ l .75-a pair.
About 300 pairs in this lot. Come early and make
your selections and get the greatest bargain in town;
OLSEN BROS.’
WHITE SHOE arena
3 GAZETTE BUILDING, NORWALK.
YOUR FRIENDS ARE USING
PLAISTED’S noun-a REMEDY
AND RECOMMEND IT S USE
Get a Bottle at once. 25 and 50 Cents.
ALL DRUGGISTS.
PRIVATE
Instruct-ions given in
no YOII KNOW '
That you can save money
by buying your Meats
and Fish at
F. W. SMITH’S,
55 Main Slroel.
BOXING ,
at the pupil’s home.
CLASS
* I Now farming, and ap-
plicants desiring to
join should apply at
onceto '
Prof. Geo. ‘Yoerger,
Everything First Class.
‘ V , 'South Norwalk,
OPEN svaumos _ ,‘oratthisoflice.
Norwalk Chronicler