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 ‘
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
E“Cu red
she is able to sit at the' table with the
rest of the family.” Mns. OLLIE Busnn,
Colfax, Indiana. .
Leading Citizens
9' Boltax, including J ohnD. Blacker, Township ,
mustee, W. H. Coon, Druggist, and Dr. J. A.
Berryman, cordially endorse this statement.
this and many other similar cures prove that
Hood’s
Sarsaparilla
it the One True Blood Purifier. All druggists. $1.
Prepared only by C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.
11 0 0 d, S PIIIS cureliverills, easytotake,
easy to operate. 25 cents.
IIIILI FREIGHT LINE
.iETWEEN
NORWALK.
so. NORWALK
AN D
NEW YORK.
Froaallers
Int y of Norwalk,
Vulcan and Eagle.
Leave N orwalk at 5 p. m.
Leave 80. N orwalk at 6 p. m.
Leave New York, Pier 23,
E. 8-, Beekman St., 5p; m,
IIERE’S YOUR OIIIIIIOE.I '
A fine building lot on Wilton ave-
nue If you intend to build, look at
this before purchasing.
Water, gas and sewer on the avenue.
L
Will he sold at a Bargain.
, W. H. BYINCTON,
Ileal Estate IanII Insurance,
A MUSLEM MISSIONARY.
What He Did for an American
Boy in Egypt.
The old Egyptian cemetery at As-
siout is a. desolate, sandy tract of land,
with a desert stretching away on either
hand. Each grave is furnished with
double gravestones, placed as seats for
the two recording angels, Munkar and
Nekir. After death, say the Moham-
medans, the soul stays with the body
for four-and-twenty hours. During
this time it is questioned by the spirits
who descend, one bearing the book for
the good, the other that for the evil
deeds of the departed. When the an-
swers are noted they rise, with the vol-
umes, to the throne of Allah and, ac-
cording to their contents, the soul is
rewarded or punished. . ‘.
The tombstones at first stand side by
side, but in the loose sandy soil they
soon sink and lean apart at various an-
gles. N 0 flowers grow there; no wom-
an would even dream of coming to
plant any there. Such as it was, how-
ever, it had a visitor in the person of
an old, blind beggar. Ibrahim had
not always been poor and forlorn. ‘He
had once been a prosperous dragoman
wearing gorgeous apparel and earning
much backsheesh by guiding English
and American tourists through his na-
tive land. Now he was dependent
upon the charity of those pious believ-
ers who daily distributed bread to the
needy from the doors of the mosque.
Ibrahim loved the graveyard. He
felt more at home there than in the
town of the living outside its walls. So
many of his old friends were here.
They were all gone into the other world,
some in battle with the Berbers or the
Sudanee, some from old age, some by
pestilence, some by famine, which ever
waits to devour the fellah when, by
chance, the Nile fails to give susten-
ance to his poor little strip of arable
land. only he was left of all his gen-
eration. He loved to wander from
one stone to another. Occasionally
he‘ stopped to recall the past,
to hold an imaginary conversation
with some shade, to give some
piece of news and fancy its effect
upon the visionary audience. {to would
often go home quite cheer 1111.1 re-
freshed by the companions _ ad feel-
ing less lonely. One only. and he the
clearest, was absent. WILL-1:2:- he lay
beneath ocean waves, or unite-r drifting
Libyan sands, or in a far—off country,
Ibrahim never knew; but it was his
only son, his firstborn child, he whose
birth had been hailed with much re-
joicing. The ceremonies had been ob-
served in due form—the household fes-
tival on the seventh day, when the
sweetened water was dropped in the
baby’s mouth to~give it a pleasant fore-
taste of life’s gifts; the forty bowls of
water poured upon its head upon the
fortieth day. The lad had been put
under the care of a. wise fakir and
carefully instructed in the faith of E1-
Islam; but, in spite of everything, he
had proved a renegade, idle and worth-
less; even, it was whispered so vile as
to learn from Christians to drink the
forbidden fiery waters which destroy
not only the body but the soul as well.
Yes, there was no doubt that he was a
bad son, and, when he finally ran away
with a. caravan of wandering Bedawin,
the bazar felt that fate had dealt
kindly with Ibrahim. But he himself
thought otherwise, for his soul yearned
after his troublesome child; and even
now, after so many long years, his
works of supererogation, his observance
of extra hours of prayer besides the
prdained five, his visit to the-Weli, or
tombs of saints, his offerings of ostrich
eggs in the mausoleums and scraps
of cloth fastened to the surrounding
trees, were always performed with the
hope that they might somehow benefit
that son, for whose sake, when the
trump of Israfil should sound, he him—
self would be content to fall from the
razor bridge of El-Sirat into the abyss
below, provided only the soul of his
boy might be borne across to rest be-
neath the shade of trees with the
houris of Paradise. To his deceased
wives, nine in all, he seldom gave a.
thought, but, for Ali’s sake, scourged
his poor worn back and stood for hours
in the broiling sun; for Ali he roused
himself to pray at midnight. He al-
ways made one of the blind men who
walked behind a. bier to chant the
creed while the boys followed to sing
the “Hash-riyeh,” the poem of last
judgment, and the mourning women
wailed behind. And he loved to listen
to the burial prayer: “0, Allah! for-
give our living and forgive our dead.
Pardon those who are present and
those who are absent.”
On the afternoon in question the old
man felt more weary than usual. In
his wanderings through the bazar he
had, by chance, heard of a. certain
hostlery on the outskirts of the town.
He had staggered in, no one knew
from what place, late one night in a.
dazed and sunstruck condition and had
speedily grown too ill to make himself
intelligible. He was young, and evi-
dently a Frank of some sort; but there
were none, but natives in Assiout dur-
ing the hot season of September, and
no one ,to look after a sick stranger,
especially as there seemed a probability
that he might be suffering from chol-
the mud hut one baking afternoon to
sit by the sufierer, to give him water
and keep away the torturing flies.
From that hour he tended him continu-
ally. In his long intercourse with
Anglo-Saxons he had grown wise in
their speech, and he knew that the
wandering accents were American.
He sat patiently, through long, broil-
ing days, not so much from compas-
sion as from the hope that always
shone before him that his good deeds
might be set down to the account of
his lost son. But no Christian mother
could have been more faithful and
tender than the ignorant, superstitious,
fanatical old follower of the prophet.
Love works to the same end through
devious channels. '
Whether from the care of Ibrahim or
from his own strong constitution, the
young American struggled back to life
Room I. Gazetteie’l’d. V {
and to a long, frotful‘; restless convales-
\
stranger who lay ill at a. miserable'
era. So old Ibrahim felt his way into .
cence. He brought forth a. small stock
of money, enough to pay the tavern-
keepers; but Ibrahim went unpaid, be-
stranger was waiting until he could
communicate with his consul.
It was beginning to grow cooler.
After a. long rest in his favorite resort
Ibrahim felt refreshed, and strolled
cheerfully back, receiving greetings
from the neighbors as ‘he went. “To
tend the sick and stranger is to do the
will of Allah,” said they, approvingly;
and their praises were grateful to his
ears. ‘ ' - - ' “wave:
There was little else to reward him.
His patient was not one who had learned
much from life in the lessons of unself-
ishness and self-control. But even on
him it began gradually to dawn that
this oriental patience and courtesy was
something surprising and beyond any-
thing that he had a right to expect.
“Ibrahim,” he asked a few days
later, “when you pray, what do you
say?” ' :4 ; ..
The old man flushed. “I speak with
Allah, howadji,” he answered with
simple dignity. 1
“Oh, see here! I know you don’t
like to talk about your faith to un-
believers; but I’m not’meaning to be
impertinent. I really would like to
know very much.” a
The old man bowed his head.
“I say manyuthings, howadji, and dif-
ferent things at different hours. I re-
cite the names of Allah, and I always
repeat El Patti/Ia.” And in a low voice
he recited:
“ ‘In the name of Allah. the Merciful and
Gracious. Praise to Allah, the Lord of all
creatures, the Merciful and Gracious. the
Prince of the Day of Judgment! We serve
thee and we pray to thee for help. Lead us in
the right way of those to whom thou hast
shown mercy, .upon whom no wrath resteth,
and who go not astray. Amen.’ .
“H’m!” said his hearer, as the sonor-
ous Arabic fell upon his ears. “Now if
it was in New England, we would call
that a. pretty good sort of prayer.”
And he became thoughtful. nae-:3?
December came in, cool and refresh-
ing. The sick man began to get about
again. He was much gentler in man-
ner,and showed symptoms of gratitude.
He had not been able to convince him-
self of the soundness of his own views
of Ibrahim’s mercenary motives. They
talked much together. -
“To-morrow is a. great feast in my
country,” he remarked, as they sat and
sunned themselves in front of the dom
palms.
Ibrahim nodded. “Yes, I remember.
It is the birth of Issa. We also honor
him as a prophet, but not as you do.
But often I have heard of him, and
sometimes the traveling people have
told me stories from your book. There
was one tale,” he added, wistfully,
“that I would like to hear again. We
have none like it. It was of a. son who
went aWay from his father, far off into
a. strange country, but he came back.”
The other did not speak for a- mo-
ment. ””‘é-v...” .
“The prodigal son,” he said, at last.
“Yes, I know it. I have a. Bible in my
bag; I’ll read it to you, if you like.”
“Thanks, howadji,” answored Ibra-
him, gratefully. “Yes, gladly would I
hear the tale again.”
The young man fetched a. volume out
of the hut, and sat down under the
shade of the palm tree. “A certain
man had two sons,” he began, and he
read it through to the end. He looked
rather strange when he .finished.
“What on earth made you ask for that
just now?” he said. Shari «that.»
“Howadji,” ansxvered the old man,
simply, “I had a son. It was long ago.
He left me one day, and I heard of him
no more. The will of Allah be done.”
“And you mean to say that you re-
member him still—that you miss him
after all these years?” ,
“Yes, truly, howadji,” said the other,
in surprise. “A father does not forget
his son.” '
"But suppose he was no credit to his
father; suppose he had been wild and
troublesome. Wouldn’t he have worn
out your patience after awhile? You
might have been glad to lose track of
him, and it would have been an un-.
pleasant surprise to get him back.”
“N o,” answered the other, patiently;
“he would still be my son. Always my
heart would roam the earth seeking
him; but the dead come not back.”
"They do sometimes,” muttered the
young man. '
He rose and walked up and down.
“See here, Ibrahim, I’ve been pretty
near death lately. I could easily pre-
tend that I’d passed over the line. I
feel rather like a. ghost as it is. Now
what’s the use of a ghost coming back
to vex the people who thought him
safely dead? He’d much better go.
back and keep himself out of sight
somewhere in the African forest.
There’s plenty of room for ghosts in
there; and it isn’t such a bad place.”
“My son, my son,” and Ibrahim rose
and leaned upon his staff. His long,
white beard swept his brown breast,
his white hair waved beneath his green
turban. He was a. venerable and im-
posing figure. “My son, life lies be-
fore'you. YOu have gone but a. little
way, and, if it was not well, yet
there is time to make it right. Hear
the words of an old man. Go back to
look for you. Do good, not evil. And
may Allah grant you find the way of
peace.” .
The boy was silent a. minute, and the
sightless eyes could not see a certain
mistiness in the other pair. “I’ll do
it, old man,” he said, rather chokily.
“I’ll go back and have another try
at it.”
is a. very old one now. He is regarded
with a certain reverence by the native
population. He still wanders to the
old graveyard, with feeble steps, and
holds converse with the quiet inmates.
The houris have rather faded from his
mind, and he takes but little interest
in the gardens and musk-scented soil
of paradise. Only he hopes that some-
how, somewhere, some day, he will
find his son again, and then all will be
well.-—Margaret S. Hall, in ‘ N.Y. Inde-
pendent.
—The word Papua is Portuguese, for
“frizzled‘,” and the district inabited by
the Papuans was named in honor of
their much decorated head'dresses.
cause, though he did' not know it, the.
your home, and to those who wait and ‘
THE.EvENING“oA2nran
n Earache is about as
painful an ache as
anything that
Salve-sea
has to deal with. But it
stops it immediately. Big
pains—little pains—it
steps all of them.
Salva-cea is the quickest
to relieve and cure
Piles, Bells,
catarrh, - (matings,
Sore Throat, Ulcers,
colds, Rheumatism,
Sore Huscles, Burns.
Two sizes, 25 and so cents.
At druggists, or by mail.
(I Tm: BRANDRETH Co., 274 CANAL ST., N. Y.
\
~ A. \z‘» s ~.~_.\ A \_—., ‘ x
J. D. Jennings.
UN DERTAK ER
1 Knight street. opposite
Street Railway Depot
BE ET: AI OFFICE.
I I LIGHT PARCEL and
LUIIKWIIIIII , PACKAGE DELIVERY
Cheap rates, Will also take orders for mes
hunger serylce In New York. Goods called
or and delivered to all arts of the town,
Orders received at E. P. eed’s Drug Store.
IWall Street, With telephone connection un-
1 3° 0.. E. LOCKWOOD.
CENTRAL NATIONAL BANK,
746 WALL SIC, N ORWALK."
ORPORATED SEPT. 1, 1876.
APITAL, :- - - - - - SIOO-OOC
non M.HOLMES. President.
. 1.. BOYEB. Vice-President.
WILLIAM A. CURTIS. Cashier
DIRECTORS :
anon III. Homuns, H. E. DANN,
h, CUNNINGHAM, .I. T. Pnowrrr
15.1.. Berna. S. H. HOLME
J . CousmsJJn.
IIIsoounI Day, Saturday.
Having purchased
the Market ofiE. J.
WADHAMS, I have
WAOIIMIS
HAS '
SOLD
OUT-
restocked the same
with .Meats, Fish
Vegetables and Can-
ned goods, and so
licit a share of your
patronage
tOHIIILES E. SOIIEIIBEII,P-
2| Wall Street.
WILLIAM S. KEM P,
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
owners of buildings erected under his super-
vision 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.
17 Main St.
Ibrahim was an old man then, he'
SPECIAL SALE
—OF———-.
MILLINERY
_._—
smIIInIIv IIIIII noIIIIIIv, mu 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.
-. 'FAWCETT’S.
3 warnnsrarmr. ‘Non ”(41.x
H. H. WILLIAMS .
.7
is handsome, Ii
manship. “ .
' The ’96_Stearns is
.1
‘QXQX@§<@X@.
BUFFALO, N. v.
, . .
__ _ team
7‘ S, ,s
ght, durable. Such grace of design as
isembodied in this “ fast, easy-running, much-talked-
about” mount can only '
approved methods, finest material» and skilled work-
the best bicycle it is possible to
produce. Finished at your option in orange or black.
Address now for beautiful new catalogue.
“the Yellow Fellow.”
E. C. STEARNS 6: (30., Makers. Syracuse, N. Y.
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
filtlltlt "
secured by the most .
TORONTO. ONT.
H. R. BULKLEY & CO.,'Agents, SOUTH NORWALK.
3
- 5
1896 Harthrd Bicycles
Patterns Nos. I and 2, from $80 to $65
4.
6.
. This is the best value for the money ofl‘ered in the medium grade machines.
The r. s. Ambler cycle 00., 29 Wall Street.
REDUCTION
IN PRICE.
60to [,50 ,
50 to ‘- 45
PIEROE,
MIIES,
LIOIIT,
OOLIIIIBIIS,
IIOIISIMII,
IIOIIIMII, .
IIIMII,
THE WHITE SHOE
$ | .75 a pair.
About 300 pairs in this lot.
your selections and get the greatest bargain in town;
OLSEN.
WHITE SHOE S's-oar:
'3 GAZETTE BUILDING, NORWALK.
I’m Doinglt‘
If you Don’t believe: It, Come and See.
° $IOO BICYCLE‘S' FOR$65.'
Latest ’96
Pattern.
‘ . Built to Sell at >,
, Top Price.
/‘ Full Guarantee.
Easy Terms.
WE ARE NOT IN THE COMBINE.
For Terms and Lease of Norwalk Fair Grounds, apply 01
LUTHER M. WRIGHT,
Carriage Factory and Repository, Franklin & Madison Sta, So. IIorwaIk.
Branch Shops at Broad River and Darien.
STORE
Is still in the lead. We shall sell all of our Ladies’
$2.00 and $2.50 Tan, Lace and Button Shoes at
Come: early and make
BRbS.’
_ ALL DRUGGISTS.
W
"p
That you can Save money
by buying your Meats
and Fish at
I: III. SIIII'II’S,
55 Main Street.
Everything First class.
gpgu’ gév'smfics ~
YOUR FRIENDS ARE USING -
PLIISTED’S CIUGH REMEDY
AND RECOMMEND ITS USE
Get a Bottle at once. 25 ' and 50 Cents. '
PRIVATE .
Instructions given in
BOXING '
at the pupil’s home.
CLASS
Now farming, and apv »
plicants desiring to
join should apply at
, once to -
Prof. Geo. Yoerg’er,
. VI‘ISOutrhVN‘orw‘alk, . ‘
* ; , ‘ .gorj amuse.- .=';i '
Norwalk Chronicler