...I.——.~, -’ 74"
THEEVENING’HGAZETTE
' 7
~___._ _..__._..._ .-... - -... ..
E: Eng? E: E
{EUTroasr
ELEGANT BUTTON FREE
m‘WI,’
(.1, ,~ _. .
o
if erH EACH PACKAGE-
. E: OF
Sweet
m, .
t
Caporal
Cigarettes
AN OPPORTUNITY TO
errors A cdllEtTldfl
I BE BUTTONS '
WITHOUT ,cosr. o
I ! LIGHT PARCEL and
LUbKWUUU S PACKAGE DELIVERY
Cheap rates. Will also take orders for mes
nuuger service In New York. Goods called
0. and delivered to all arts of 'the town.
Orders received atE.P. eed’s Dr Store.
Wall Street. With telephone connec ion un-
'3°' to n. LOCKWOOD.
AT,
P. W. BATES’
‘ .42 WATER smear,
"you canfind as fine an assortment of
IIIlIlflfllflIIflItlUBIlfllflIY WBII
As can be found in any Yard in the
,State. Look it over and get prices
before going elsewhere. .
'W. H. HAYWARD & CO.‘\
Pension Attorneys one Solicitors}
109 East Capitol Street,
WASHINGTON, D. Ce‘
All classes of claims prosecuted
before the Interior Department.
Rejected pension claims a specialty.
Correspondence solicited.
nnnnsennneronn
nonne‘
A PURE MALT EXTRACT.
A SUBSTITUTE FOB SOLID FOOD.
Highest percentage Extract. . Lowest
percentage Alcohol. An effectiveTonic.
An agreeable Beverage.‘ A mild'Stimu-
lant. Just what physicians W111 pre-
scribe for Nursing Mothers. Convales-
cents and victims of Insomnia or Nerv-
ous Disorders resulting from Impaired
Digestion and Overwork.",
For Sale and Delivered Anywhere
Long Island Bottling 00.,
280-284 Bergen St.. Brooklyn,
FOR. SALE BY
EDWARD P. WEED.
PRIVATE
Instructions given 1n
BOXING
at the pupil’s home.’
CLASS I
Now fo.ming, and ap-
plicants desiring to
join should apply at
once to
Prof. Geo. Yoerger,
South: Norwalk.
or at this ofiice.
on non Know
0
That you can save money
by buying your Meats
and Fish at
F. W. SMITll’S,
55 Main sum
Elgrything First Class.
OPEN EVENINGS
DIVINE COMPASSION.
Shall souls redeemed by me refuse
l‘o share my sorrow in their turn!
Or, sin-forgiven, my gift abuse
Of peace with selfish unconcernl
. as s intlyease p0 pityingcare.’
Has faith no work. and love no prayer?
While sin remains. and souls in darkness
dw 11.
Can Heaven‘itself be Heaven, and look un-
moved on hell?
Is it a dreatn? Is Heaven so high
That pity cannot breathe its air;
[ts happy eyes forever dry,»
Its holy lips witbo t a prayer?
My God! ny God! if thither led .
By Thy free grace unmerited,
No m-own nor palm be mine, but let me keep
A heart that still can feel. and eyes that still
can weep.
A RIVAL’S LoyE.
0f one lover in particular had I been
jcalous,,for to my excited and fear-la-
den imagination he seemed to possess
everything that a young lady could de-
sire. He was tall, broad-shouldered,
handsome, with a pleasing manner and
faultless dress, and in addition to all
this, he was endowed with ,more than
an average share of this world’s
goods. ‘
He was madly in love with Ada, but
conducted his wooing in .a way with
which not even his closest rival could '
find fault. Kind, considerate, and gen-
tlemanly, never obtruding his presence
unnecessarily, he yet managed to pay
her considerable attention, and many
an anxious time did I spend, fearing
that his superior attractions would
put me in the shade.
Fate, however, decided otherwise;
for when I summoned up courage to
put my fortunes to the test, Ada shyly
accepted me, informing me in a most
engaging manner that she had never
loved any one else. You may be sure
that I was in ecstacies, and scarcely
knew for the next few months
whether I walked upon air or upon
solid ground.
Our engagement was to last a year,
at the end of which time our marriage
was to take place.
The time had almost elapsed, and
nothing had occurred to mar the bar-
mony of the scene, when, quite unex-
pectedly, something happened which
filled me with the deepest horror, and
which causes me to shudder even now
as I recall it.
It has partly to do with my rival,
Horace Rishton, whose existence for
the time I had almost forgotten.
He had received the news of our en-
gagement in an apparently calm and
quiet manner, and his: subsequent be-
havior had not led us to regard him as
being more than ordinarily affected by
it, but in the event I am about to de-
scribe, I was enabled to see how deep
and tragic the effect upon him really
was. .
The revelation came in this wise.
It wanted but two days to our wed-
ding, and I had occasion to go on a
little business connected with it to a
neighboring town, a place some four
miles distant from my home. Having
accomplished my errand, and finding
that I had some considerable time to
wait for a train, I resolved to walk
back, so striking out, I soon left the
town behind me. .
It was a fine moonlight night, and
as it promised to continue so, I deter-
mined to take a short cut across the
country, which I reckoned would save
a quarter of an hour at the least. The
road would be very lonely, for it was
a path that was seldom used, but that
troubled me ‘little, for my thoughts
were company enough that night.
I had gone somewhere about two
miles when the moon suddenly cloud-
ed over, and I was left in comparative
darkness.
As I knew the way, however, I
thought nothing of it, but trudged
cheerfully along, thinking only of Ada
and our approaching union. Suddenly
and without a moment’s warning, the
ground gave way from under my feet,
and I felt myself falling headlong
down, down into the depths of the
earth. How far I fell I knew not at
the time—I learned afterward that it
was about thirty feet—but I expected
instant death when I reached the bot-
tom, and without doubt that would
have been my fate had n01; the bottom
of the hole been filled with water to a
considerable depth. This broke my
fall, and also by its coldness restored
me to my senses.
I struck out on coming to the sur-
face, and swam around to find some-
thing to which I could hold on. After
a considerable time spent in searching
during which the full horror of the
situation began to dawn upon me, I
at last discovered a piece of wood-
work fixed in the side of the pit.
This I eagerly grasped, and, resting
partially on it with half of my body
in the water, I began to consider my
position.
I knew at once the place into which
I had fallen, and as the knowledge
flashed across my mind I cursed my-
self for having been so careless as to
stumble into it. It was an old, " rinsed
shaft which had been there for genera-
tions. Not many people were aware
of its existence, for it was in a wild
and solitary spot scarcely ever visited
by any one. I, however, had seen it
several times, in my moorland wan-
derings, and had always regarded it
as a dangerous place. It was partial-
ly fenced round, but I must have wan-
dered in through one oftlle gaps.
There was no footpath anywhere
near it, so I must, in the darkness,
have lost my way. However, here I
was, and the question confronted me,
how was I to get out?
I struck out frantically around the
pit to seek again for some means of
escape, but my search was as fruitless
as before. , "
Despair took hold of me. I thought
of Ada, of our approaching marriage.
of the preparations which had been
. ing frantically, “Horace!
made, and the plans which had been
termed. ' -
Death instead of marriage! What a
«intrast! Just when I ought to be
reading my bride to the altar and step-
ping across the portals of married
life, to let go my hold here and fall
into the cold, relentless arms of
Death! And what of Ada then? Sure-
ly she would sorrow, and grieve, and
be disconsolate.
But Horace Rishton! What of him?
Might they not become man and——
But, no. the thought was torturing,
and drove me in a fit of frenzy to
shout again with all my might. But
it was all in vain, for no one heard.
How the night passed I cannot tell,
neither do I know how the morning
hours dragged on, for I was numb
with cold, and faint with hunger and
fatigue. I only know that after what
seemed to me to be ages; footsteps
drew [1631‘ and a voice called out from
above:
“Are you there, Fred?"
My heart leaped into my mouth, and
for a moment I was unable to utter a
sound. At last I murmured, in afaint
voice: '
“In heaven‘s name, get me out!
dying.”
“Can you hold on another minute?”
the voice asked. “I’ve got a rope here.
Keep up till I fasten it to this stake.
Can you slip a loop around your body,
or shall I come down to you?”
“Send the rope down. I’ll manage
under my arms! after which I gave
to pass it round,” I shouted eagerly.
In another minute it was dangling
before my eyes, and was soon passed
the word to draw up. Slowly I as-
cended, and at last emerged into the
light and freedom of the upper air.
As I lay upon the ground—for my
legs were useless to me—I looked at
my deliverer, and wept for very joy at
my release. .
It was Horace Rishton who had
saved me, and if ever my heart went
out to my rival, it was then.
“I cannot sufficiently thank you,” I
began.
“Give me no thanks,” he interrupted
harshly. “Thank heaven instead.
Heaven and hell have been fighting
over you, and heaven has won. But
you little know how near you have
been to death.”
I looked up in wonderment at him,
for his words were unintelligible to
me. He took no notice of my look, but
continued:
“I guessed where you were, call it
instinct or whatever you like. No one
else did. They will seek everywhere
but here. But I seemed to know, and
——well, the devil tempted me, nay, he
fought with me. Don’t you know
why? You love Ada Miller, do you
not? Then, so_do I. Yes, with a love
I’m
gives me no rest night or day, a love
which makes it impossible for me to
live without her. You have won her
hand, but don’t you think I envy you?
Don’t you think I even hate you at
times? And when I guessed you were
here, don‘t you see that the devil
tempted me to leave you here and to
say nothing whatever about it? ‘But
Ada has chosen you, she loves you.
Your wedding day draws near. Go—
take her and be happy. But for me
happiness in this life is over.”
He turned away to unloosen the
rope which he had made fast to one
of the stakes of the fence.
I watched him wonderineg with a
dazed mind,when all in a moment, be-
fore I could think or speak, he reeled,
fell over, and toppled headlong into
the pit from whence he had drawn
me, carrying the rope with him.
“Good heaven, he’s gone!” I shrieked
and springing to 'my feet—for the
numbness left me for a moment—I
rushed to the mouth of the shaft cry-
Horace!”
But no answer came to my cries. A
loud splash succeeded his fall, then all
was still and silent as the grave. I
leokcd around for help, but no help
urns near, and overcome with weak-
ness, fatigue and horror, I fell sense-
less to the ground.
“Vhen I came to I found myself in
the same position, and knowing that
it was extremely improbable that any
one would pass that way, I put forth
all my strength and dragged myself
with great difliculty in the direction
of home.
When I had gone a mile or so I en-
‘ tered upon a more frequented road,
and soon fell in with those who ren-
dered me all the assistance I required.
My story caused a great sensation,
as you may be sure, and for a time I
was the ,one object of interest in the
place.
Ada looked upon me as one given
back from the dead, and rejoiced over
me accordingly. Her joy would have
been complete had it not been for the
unfortunate death of Horace Rishton,
for that naturally cast a gloom over
us all.
Of course, his death was put down
to accident, and much regret ex-
pressed at the painful occurrence, but
I, who had seen the whole thing,
knew that it was no accident, though,
rightly or wrongly, I kept the knowl-
edge to myself. ’
Why should I blazon abroad the
fact that Horace Rlshton, after gal-
lantly saving my life, had deliberate-
ly destroyed his own?
It would have been a poor return for
the service he had rendered me; it
would have done no good to those who
knew him and who revered his mem-
a source of constant pain and grief to
my own little darling wife.
By accident therefore let it be, and
may his soul rest in peace! ’
Every year we pay a visit to his
grave, and as we gaze 'upon the silent
tomb, we think with gratitude and yet
lwith regret of a rival’s love.-~-House-
hold I‘i‘ords. '
, ‘ «if
x
that is all-consuming—a love which.
ory; and above all, it would have been ‘
N getting up to wed‘
ding trousseau, think
how many women
are tired out: Dress-
makers, seam-
stresses :‘shop-
girls,” milliners—
all hard-worked we
»7 weary over it ; to
say nothing of the
young lady herself.
Sitting or standing
all day is the hard-
est kind..of work '; it
gives you no healthy
well - balanced ex-
rcisc; part of the
body is overworked
and the rest of t is
under-worked. he
' system grows plug-
$511; the appetite is or, the stomach is out
of order; the bowe s are constipated, you
have headaches and dizzy spells. It's im-
possible for you to take as much out-of-door
exercise in the daylight as you need. The
best help you can have in the circumstances
is a simple laxative medicine like Doctor
Piercc’s Pleasant Pellets. They will, as
nearly as any medicine can,_ supply the
want of free exercise which is lacking om
all in-door’s work. They cure dyspepsxa,
biliousness and constipation in a. pleasant,
gradual, natural way. There is no pm:
or weakening effect with the “P easant
Pellets ; ” they act surely butgently ; they
promote liver-action, and give tone and
strength to the stomach and intestines to do
their own work. When you become re-
gular the “Pellets” can be stopped. You
don’t have to take them forever. The cure
is ermanent.
r. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets are small
sugar-coated granules; agreeableto take.
Children like them. If the druggist wants
to sell you some other pills that pay him
better, Just think of what pay: you.. You
will receive a sample package free if you
will send your name and address to'the
World’s Dispensary Medical Assocmtion,
Buffalo, N. Y.
The People’s Common Sense Medical Ad-
viser, By R. V. Pierce, M. D., Chaef Consult-
ing Physician to the Invalidrf Hotel and
Surgical Institute, a book 0: 1008 large
pages, over 300 illustrations, some of them
in colors, bound in strong paper covers'wnll
be sent to any one sending 21 cents in one-
cent stamps to cover cost of mailing only.
Over 680,000 copies of this yompletc family
Doctor Book already sold in cloth binding
at regular price of $1.53.
UENTRAL NATIONAL BANK,
26 WALL 812. NORWALK.
CORPORATED SEPT. 1. 1876.
CAPITAL. - - - - - - $100.00C
GEORGE M.Hor.mzs, President. '
E. L. BoYEB. Vice-President.
WILLIAM A. Omens, Cashier:
Dixie-@113 :
GEORGE M. HOLMES, H. E. DANN,
P. L. CUNNINGHAM. J. T. PBowrrr
E. L. Born, 8. H. Homnrs,
J. Cousins. J R.
Illsoount nay, Salordav-
DAVID .w. RAYMOND
Funeral Director and Entalnner
89 Washington Street 'Soulh Norwalk
Residence. Mahackemo Hotel.
The enznrre
eernrrno -
WORD
TO.
THE '
WISE
Merchants,
M auuiam on
ere, Lodges and SPQIQIIC‘t
will consult their own inter-
ests by'giving us a call.
REMEMBER— -If you have
work to do, write to us.
Our
Reputation
ls ’
Foot
In '
lion A
Instruments.
Just one mis-
take and we are
hurt.
s.
That is the Reason
Why
SOHLEICHER & SON
|P
ABE WHAT THEY ARE.
N 10 ”‘
/
HONEST ween AT An HONESTPBICE
Let . us build you a piano to match yon.
furniture. Come and see our factory.
Exchange.
gPianos Sold on‘i Easy Terms and Old Ones Taken in
Factory: Pacific St. Stamford.
. ovu- a lace vest.
FOR BIG GIRLS.
Some. Ideas that I‘.’ ll Surely Please this'
- ’ Very Critical Class.
(By Special Arrangement with the N. Y. SunJ'
Among the pretty evening dresses
for young girls is one of striped until
flowered pink silk. The skirt is made
in the new way, with the fullness laid
in tiny pl‘toits over the hips, and the
waist is a blouse Shirred in with a lit—
tle heading and tiny‘ cords around thr-
crcarn lace yoke, and opens in front
The elbow sleeves
are in double puffs, tied in with pink
satin ribbon, and thebeli and collar
are of the same ribbon. Another
model for a girl of 15 is carried out
in flowered silk, with tight-nirting bod»
ice, and a vest of chiffon, with a jabot
of lace on either side. A walking dross
of gray canvas shows a white mous~
seline de soie vest, a canvas bolero,
trimmed with three rows of plaited
narrow pale blue ribbon, and a blue
silk belt. The material in the skirt is
folded over to form a panel in front.
Plain wool goods make pretty school
.-.¢s.\
“yea-‘07!» ..
3:31;? . be;
dresses for young girls. and a. few
bands of bias velvet and some small
buttons trim them sufficiently. A
,‘blouse waist of flowered silk, with
yoke, bands, and skirt of plain serge,
is another good school gown.
lTVool canvas dresses are very desir-
able for winter wear, for, unlike cloth,
they are thin enough to be comforta-
ble in the house and warm enough to
answer every purpose for street
gowns. Brown, black and green are
good colors, and black Chantilly inser-
tions and edge are used for trimming
the bolero and the skirt, while the
blouse front may be of white or some
bright color.
Braiding is one of the specialties of
dress trimmings this season, and there
are all sorts and kinds of braid 'in va-
rious colors and widths, with plain
and waved edges, mixed with gold
thread. Military braids are also used,
and silk cord forms the all-over pat-
tern on thin, gauzy materials used for
trimming.
Narrow velvet ribbon is very much
used this season. and endless loops of
black or white are combined with-lace
or chiffon in pretty boas for the neck.
Nests of white silk or mousscline de
soie are trimmed crosswise with some
of the baby ribbon, either in black or
colors.
The new muffs of fur and velvet are
extremely large, and those of the lat-
ter material are generously trimmed
with cream lace and fur tails, the vel-
vet usually matching the costume in
color. Large muffs are made in vari-
, ots kinds of fur, very plain in style,
but very o-xtravagant as to quantity of
fur uml ,iwmlcd gold chains, by which
they are suspended from the neck.
The new millinery displays the usual
collection of extreme styles, shapes
and exaggerated fancies, but we can
hope for something less picturesque
and more generally becoming later on,
when good taste has modified them to
our use. There are some striking re-
vivals of old-time hats which look as
if they might have come out of some
of Gainsborough’s pictures, and photo-
graphs of the last century portraits by
English painters have really furnished
the millineis with many of their mod
els.
____________
Just the Thing.
“Have you any good substitutes for
codes? My doctor says I must quit
using the genuine.
“0, yes, we have several excellent
and wholesome substitutes for the
genuine article.”
“Well, give me a pound of what you
consider your very best.”
(In a whisper) “John, bring me a
pound of that ‘pure groundeava.’ ”
Norwalk Chronicler