.- FATE. '- . I‘wo shall be born the whole wide world apart. _ And speak in different tongues, and have no ' thought - - Each of the other 3 being. and no heed; And these 0 er unknown seas and unknown lands Shall c1oss, escaping wreck defying death. And all unconsciously shape every act And bend each wandering step to this one end; That, one day, out of darkness, they shall meet And 1ead life s meaning in each other' s eyes And two shall walk some narrow way of life So nearly side by side that should one turn Ever so little space to left or right They needs must stand acknowledged face to face. * And yet with wistful eyes that never meet. With groping hands that never clasp. and _lipl Calling 1n vain to ears that never hear. El‘heyk seek each other all their weary days on. And dkieo unsatisfied—and this is fate! , —-Mrs. spalding. A PERMANENT CURE. Peter Patterson was ill—at least he thought so—and depressed; he had a headache and he hated the dusty streets, in which the summer heat burnt and the summer sun shone be-r fore the green leaves had draped the trees, and potted geraniums, which had come to be so blessedly popular in New" York, lent their summer fresh- ness. ' “What shall I do?” he smid. “You say nothing ails me, but I can tell 4 What my feelings are better than you can. I know I shall be down with something soon. I rode in a car with a half dozen dirty children the other day, to the small pox hospital, I haven’t a doubt—very red and nasty looking, all of them; and while I was buying something in a store down BroadWay the other day a horrid old woman begged of me because her thus band was sick with typhoid fever. No doubt I have caught both diseases, and it’s the Complication that puz- zles you. I couldn’t relish the coffee this morning; left my milk toast un- touched. , Hateful life, that of a bachelor at a hotel! Oh, dear me i” , “Why don’t you marry, then?” in- quired the doctor. “They need so much courting,” said Patterson. “You spend six months or so, atleast, dangling at a woman’s apron strings. You, must go, to the, theatre and opera if she is gay, and to _ church if, she is pious. At fifty a man likes his slippers and dressing-gown and chair of an evening. ’If it was just stepping over to the clergyman’s and getting married, putting a ring on her finger and saying or nodding yes two or -three times,- wouldn’t mind it, you know. ” “Ah, well, courting is the fun of it p in my opinion,” said the old doctor, “but every one to his taste. advice to you is :to get out into the, country.” “To another hotel and more mercen- ary waiters?” said Mr. Patterson. ’ “No," said the doctor; “go to a nice private home. ‘I know one—a motherly widow lady," who cooks a dinner fit for a king. River luafore the house, woods behind it, orchard to the left, kitchen garden to the'right; no fever and ague. no mosquitoes. Heavenly! I am going\up there to- morrow, and I’ll see if she’ll take you.» “Very well,” said Mr. Patterson; “I think I will try it.” “And you must drink plenty of milk and eat plenty of nice home made bread.” “Yes, I will,” said Patterson, over- joyed at hearing something that sounded like a prescription. “And you advise milk?” . “A quart of it every day and as much more as you can drink.” “I’ll make a note of it,” said Patter- son; “and if I should be very ill she’ll nurse me?” “Splendidly,” answered the doctor, and went his way. ' Mr. Patterson thought the matter over and thought better of it every day, and when rthe little note inform: ing him that the widow would be Willing to “take him in and do for him” reached him, he had his trunk already packed, and was ready to start ' that afternoon. As for the widow, the doctor had prepared her 'for her boarder’s peculiarities. “Nice fellow; social; plenty of money; thinks him-self ill, but isn’t; ought to be married; told him so, but he hates the idea "of courting; mar- ry right off some day, no doubt. ‘Will you have me?’ ‘Yes.’ Call in clergy- man, but then old bachelors are pecu- liar generally.” The widow was a smart woman. She had married at sixteen, and had never failed to have her wash-ing all over when other people \were hanging out theirs. Her bread always rose, her cake was always good and her butter always sweet. At forty ,, she had married off all her daughters, was well- -to-do, buxom and happy. Her son and, his Wife boarded with her, and she added to her plentiful savings by taking a summer boarder or two, if they happened to ofier. “Fifty and a bachelor,” "said—ME Munxtile, looking in the glass. “Well, it'seems a pity but when elderly gen- itlemen marry it is to some hitytity girl who leads them a terrible life, and likely it’s for'the best.” Then she looked in the glass again; for the widow was but a woman, after all. . Mr. Patterson came to the widow’s and obeyed the doctor’s prescription wrefully. He ate bread and milk, robbed the orchard like a schoolboy, and reclined over the strawberry shortcake after a fashion that Would have made his reputation at the bar. Then, too, Mrs. Muutle did not smile at his aches and pains and insist that he must be perpetually well be- cause, he. had fresh complexion and dimples on- his cheeks.‘ She had sav- ory herb teas and potions which she pnoduced When he complained of feel ing miserable. .:I. _, ' _'- ..... o .. ...-.... A. - .4... Why, I - And my ‘ self. Aloud she ansWered, lmoml‘ers." ‘ _ .- . _._‘.f. For twomorrths or 155$ ME Pats terson boarded with Mrs. Munifleg and happier months ,he never lived through. Then he went back to' the city for a few weeks, returning in ur- gent need of more lie-ts from the medicine chest, and . aying until, the last pink Chrysanthemum was bloom- ing on its withered branches. He had grown so fond of his little room, with its white curtains and fresh grass- bleached linen, of the country good things and of the buxom Mrs Mun'tle, that he could not bear the thought of parting with them altogether. _ After all, why could he not buy a horse and get Mrs. Mun-tie to keep it for him? Perhaps she would. He would offer, a highisalary, and! she could have plenty of‘servants. Then, indeed, he might have friends to dine with him, and be as happy as possible. If only he could approach his hostess showing her as he did so that he considered her his equal and a lady—and all that she certainly was; a clergymun’s daughter and the widow of a country doctor. After much consideration he finally mustered courage fer the effort, and ' walked into the front parlor and sent the servant to ask Mrs. Muntle to please step there for a moment. “Gracious!” thought M1s. Munvtle to. herself; “What can he want?” Then she blushed brightly, settled her necktie, took off her apron and walkeddemurely into the room‘. » “Be seated, madam,” said Mr. Pat- terson. “Sit here, please. Allow me to sit near you, as. 'I. have something to ask which may require some con- s1deration ” ' “Oh, dear me, it is coming!” thought Mrs. Mun-tle. I suppose you know I’m a man of considerable means, madam,” said the old bachelor, “able to buy a nice house, furnish it well and live in it comfmtably?” “So I’ve understood, Mr. Patterson,” leplied the Widow. “And of course~it is pleasanter to live that way than at a hotel.” “I‘should judge it might be,” said Mrs Muntle, cautiously. “You judge rightly; but you know a bachelor must be in the hands of servants if he keeps a house. A gen- tleman doesn’t want that; he wants a lady to superintend things for him—— some one of taste and refinement and all that. Common people don’t un- derstand his feelings;- and mercenary servants are a very poor dependence" “I know that” “You are almost as much alone as \ 'I, aren’t you, Mrs. Muntle?” said Mr. Patterson, cc‘axingly. ‘ “The doctor knew him. He’s go- ing to do it just as he said he would if he ever did, ” said the lady to her- “Well, sir, I am pretty freehit. is true. All my ‘children are married well.” “I know money woud be no object to you,” said Mr.- Patterson. “You have enough. But" if I was to tell you that I hated boarding-houses and you shall have complete control of everything; only make 'my straw- berry shortcak-e for me all my life.” He paused and looked at the lady. “That is delicately-put,” he thought. “Now will you hire out for a house- keeper, I wonder?” , “I ain’t romantic,” said Mrs. Mun- tle; but still we ain’t young, neither of us, and it gets to be just that with the most sentimental after awhile.” “Don’t refuse me,” he pleaded. “Well, Mr. Patterson, I won’t. I’m my own mistress, and though I’ve never thought of a second marriage, why, I think I’m warranted in mak- ing one. No doubt I shall never re- pent, for I think you’ve a fine dispo- sition, and I understand your ways and tastes.” Mr. Patterson listened. He saw. what he had done—proposed and been accept-ed without having any idea of what he was about. He looked at Mrs. Muntle. She was very nice and comely and ten years his junior, at least, if she was forty. He could not have done a better thing, and would be married Without any troublesome courting. So he at once put his arm around Mrs. Muntle’s waist and said,— “Thank you, my dear. myself very fortunate." He wrote to his good doctor in about a fortnight’s time, to tell him that he had taken both his prescrip- tions; was a married man and in- tended to bring his bride home about the first of the new year. \; Taylor Had Falth‘dn His Poems. ' The story was told not long ago at a meeting of some of the friends of BayardTaylor. that he was once over- taken by. a stranger on Broadway, Who s'hook him fervidly by both hands, saying. he had read everything Mr. Taylor had written and mentioning all his books of travel. “But my poems?” asked Taylor. “Poems?” said the astonished stranger, “have you ever written poems?” ’ Curiously enough we, of today have ceased to readthe travels, and re- member Bayard Taylor rather as a poet, not widely read, but generally loved; and in his own pretty town of Kennett, whence he drew his most characteristic literary material, the townspeople revere his memory as their dearest possession. ~Here is a Patriot. Indeed. The refusal of George B. Brown, Secretary of the Brooklyn Board of Education, to accept an increase of $1,000 a year in his salary, has caused much talk complimentary to -Mr. Brown. He is an old city ofiicer. His present salary is $51,000. He said: “The financial burdens of the city are such that I will not now accept the proposed increase; The place is worth every cent of the $6, 000 that the Fi- nanne Committee proposed to give me, and I appreciate the kindness of the I.-, 4 not the voice to complain. I consider . would hear thelast of it. GOOD NEWS FOR THE HORSE. New Shoes Invented That May Be Be- ,moved When the Animal Goes to'Bed. Horses need no longer go to bed with their shoes on. that a good horse should be treated just as kindly as a good man has i" vented a horseshoe which is adjus - to the animal’s foot'without nails. . \The shoes are put on and removed at the pleasure of the owner, and the horses upon whom they have been tried seem to exhibit a. great appreciation of them, doing their work better, and in a number of ways indicating that life is more satisfactory without a hoof full of nails. The shoe is drawn on over the hoof and buckled on, no nails being driven anywhere into the foot for any purpose. If the inventor, Who is an ex- perienced horseman, is correct, the un- fortunate animal has been for centu- ries rewarded for his faithful service to man by the most exquisite torture, caused by the sharp nails, and he has He consid- ers the present method of horse shoe- ing nothing less than barbarous. The equine hoof is naturally adapted to its purpose. ' Though to all appearances it is mere-' ly a horn-like lump at the extremity of the leg, it is in reality as carefully con structed as the foot of a human being. It has bones, flesh, blood and sensi- tive nerves; it has a heel called a frog, uspecially. designed to bear upon the ground; and the Creator 'never in- :ended that it should be driven full of nails, cut, burned, hammered and pared. There is little room, says the in- ventor, for nails. in a horse‘s hoof, de- spite all opinions to the contrary, and gouging or concaving the sole is highly injurious. He states that the laying on of hot irons to make the old fash- ioned shoe fit, as practised by black- j‘smiths, deteriorates the life substance, and is the main cause of brittle or con- .tracted hoofs. Cutting and scraping make the foot tender, renderingit-lia- ble to bruises, blisters and soreness. All these difficulties are expected to be obviated by the adoption of the nailless shoe. No operation of any kind is performed on the hoof, but, instead ‘ of making the math the shoe, as care- less horseshoers sometimes do, the shoe is designed to fit the foot. Freaks at Fairs. During the recent .years the com- plaint that our agricultural fairs sim- ply afford an opportunity for horse racing, and a place where fakersMche museum man, and ‘numberless side Show attractions gull the visitor, has much foundation in fact. Last fall at several state fairs of some of the greatest agricultural com- monwealths in the country, as soon as the races were called, produce halls, art galleries and stock stables were practically deserted. Instead of trying to derive some useful lessons from the exhibits of grains, fruits and stock, time was Wasted in watching very in ferior speed contests. Or some show would pass about the ground with brass band, diminutive horses, dogs, Indians, or an assortment of feminine “beauty,” with which the inferior Hecla could not be compared; distract- ing attention and making it impossible for anyOne to satisfactorily examine the products shown. Not only are these features annoy- ing to the visitors, but to the exhibitor as well. After going to the expense and labor of tastefully arranging ‘his products, wares, or stock, it is very discouraging to have them almost en- tirely neglected. Fair managers claim that the pub- lic demand these other attractions. We doubt it. If the taste of the average fair goer has become so deb‘ased as to prefer the cheapest of cheap shows, poor racing, etc., to splendid exhibits of corn, Wheat, vegetables, fruits, cat- tle, horses, hogs, sheep, etc., it is the 'philanthropicduty of these same man agers to educate them on different lines. The thrifty, well-to-do, respects. ‘ ble class'of attendants would be great. 1y increased and the fair of a much higher order. - ‘. .... ,h‘ Weary of Self-Made Men’s Brag. Mr. Moody has a popular and very " the errors Selling way of “hitting" which are so rife in the theological thinking of many persons to-day. Speaking of salvation by grace, he says: “It is well thata man can’t save himself: for if a man'could Only'work his own way to heaven, you never Why, down here in this world, if alman happens to get a. little ahead of , his fellows, and , ‘ thousandv dollars to-' , gether. you’ll hear him bragging about scrapes a few ' his being ‘a self-made man,’ and tell- ing how he. began as. a poor. boy and worked his way up in the world. I’ve heard so much of this sort of thing that I’m sick and tired of the whole busi- ness, and I’m glad we shan’t have men" bragging through all eternity how they worked their way into heaven.”.-—St . Louis Mid- Continent. A man who‘ believes . , of the Bay State has three distinct move- ments whiCh, in combinatiOn‘, clean it thoroughly, quickly and economically. Many furnace grates are intricate and com- , plex. We have succeeded in getting the result with simple mechanical movements, and say without hesitation that it is the best furnace grate made. It is expensive to construct, but it will outlast two or three ordinary grates. . Consult your local dealer- 11151011 srovr ca... .228 Water St., NEW YORK FOUNDRIES—Providence, R. I. . BOSTON OFFICE-56 Union St. (3 , \ j I"; “195*,er STEAM“ BICYCLE , , casts. a” - ;- . , Yellow ~ p v . ‘fellow is known throughout cycling as alight, staunch, stylish, speedy mount. here’ 5 a best in every- thing, the. ’96 Stcatns' IS a. veritable edition do [unto among bicycles. Finishcd' 111 black or orange. Stcarns riders are satisfied riders, and always proud as kings of their mounts. 4 " . Y our address will insure receipt of our hand- some new catalogue. E. C. STEARNS 6: 90., Makers, Syracuse, N. Y. Buffalo. N. Y. Toronto, Ont. San Francisco. Cal. H. R. BULKLEY & 00.. Agents, SOUTH NORWALK. Towle Vault Light company. M ANUE'ACTU REES. VAULT LIGHTS. SKYLIGHTS AND PATENTLIGHT DESIGNS. Factory: , Office: “I BRIGGS AVENUE, _ T61 ELM STREET, BIIooKLIIII. ' IIEIII voIIII. Moore. able to 1 MIN) fora bicy: cle, thbe' content \IIIi'tli‘ anLhut‘ a STANDARD OFTI-IEWORLD. L Nineteen years of reputation for building the best bicycle, backed" by the certainty of quality assured by our scientific math ' should mean much to any buyer of a. bicycle. Thatc' is but one Columbia quality+0nc Columbia pricc— -- 5] .T__o_______ ALL ALIKE. Bea tifui‘ Art Cat-I e of Columbia and Hartford Bi is free ifycu call upon any n mishanbymflfiemmiortwmu temps. POPEMFGCO Hartford,Conn. hunch Stores and Agencies in 11mm every d .mmam. 11160111131qu are not _ . wovflymmmyourvl iv. in .3, ..... ‘ _ l: . prices. 4. ' and special students admitted. ‘ : cular. Early application desirable. ‘ DAVID H. .MILLEB, ‘: F. 81'. J 01m hooxWoon, 311110110311 E. Sm'rn FOR YOUR MONEY “ Arm ‘ GREAT REDUCTION SALE 0f the balance of our 3 , AT run ‘ WHITE SHOE STORE. Our uien’ 5 $5 Tan Shoes re .0, p... pm. ' “mid 83. 50 Our Men‘ s $4 Ten to, per pair. Shoes, reduced 33-00 OurMen’ 8 $3. 50 Tan sho . V ' to, per pair es reduced 82.- so 200 pair Men’s Congress and L Shoes worth $1. 25 ace Gel] and s’ee this Shoe? 12111311890 200pair Men’s Con ess Shoes, worth $233}: and Lace 3' .48 The balance of our Lad ‘ and Black $3 Oxfords, 35 Tan $2 '00 260 pair of Ladies' Tan Shoes ‘ sizes,” wo_r th $2. at 4' 100 oair Child’s Kid Sr :e oes, worth soc. at The largest line of Boys an Girls’ School Shoes in To ya, a the lowest . I sacs & MACKIN'I'OSIIIES. OLSEN: BR08., White Shoe Store, 3 Gazelle i’ld’g. coIIIIEIIIIcur - LIUIIIIIII, ' llavlland Street. We are a thousand times indebt- ed to our patrons for their kindly interest and consideration mani- fested during the first week of our run, and we beg to say that for their convenience we have placed receiving- -baskets at the follow- ing places, from which collec- tions will be made twice daily. Deliveries made by wagon, or over the Laundry counter, as may be desired. Benedict, W. A. &Co., 114 Washington 355333. E 75 Wash t Comstock Bros’, 14 SoutlinlEIacili1 3522:. Sturtevant’s, 51 and 53 North Main street. ' Johnson, Edward C, street, [Bridge] Gorham, E. E., 10 First avenue, East N orwalk N orwalk. 193 Washington Pinneo’s, 49 Wall street, Havlland‘ Street. South Norwalk, Conn. MISS BAIRD’S INSTITUTE Norwalk, Con'n. 25m YEAR. 15th Year in Norwalk. IIoIIIIIIIIII. IIIIII'IIIIscIIoIII. Primary, intermediate, academic'and college ‘ . preparatory classes. Specialists employed for i = »_ phys1cal culture. elocution, music, art and the languages. manners. ' /Careful attention to morals and, A' limited number: of day pupils Send for cir’-. Miss Baird is at home to visitors on Thurs- ' . _ day andFriday of each week until 5 p. m. FaiIfield flouniy National Bank. 44 .Wall Street, Norwalk. Conn. ‘ Enwmo. Kama President 12.1.1111. ViCce-Presideut. 0.61m“. Cashier DAV! mE. DIRECTORS. EDWIN 0. Karma Mosas H. Gnovnn A. J. Mum. 001.11.“: E. ansnm. fiacounts of Manufacturers Merchants and viduals solicited. Sate Deposit Boxes free to Depositors. :. J. D. Jennings. UNDERTAKER '1 ' ‘eKnichtstre‘etbonDO'sit‘e Street BuilwarD snot} ' 3 119111 mar. 41 orrlor. A’FULL LINE or 'rnuuxs, ‘ coIInrcIIcur '- LIIIIIIIIIIII, .— c. A4 1' .j
Norwalk Chronicler