Have a Smile. "
You may be hot, dusty, thirsty—so
‘much the better—pleasure Will be
greater—there’s a cooling, refreshing
deliciousness in every glass of Williams’
Root Beer—combined with its healthful
qualities, it’s the one great pleasing ben-
eficial temperance drink. Make it at
home—a bottle of extract makes five
gallons of delicious
WILLIAAIHS & CARLETON CO., PROPS.
ARTF 0RD. CONN.
ABBOTT’S
'5 Elli Will i“
tom Pal ill
Cures CORNS, BUNlONS and WARTS
SPEEDILY and WITHOUT PAIN.
FOR SALE BY ALI. DRUGGISTS.
LIPPMAN BROTHERS, Prop’rs,
Lippman’s Block, SAVANNAH, GA.
MEEKER COAL GU
' FLOWS, FLOWS REPAIBED,
0011, 110011, 11101,
LIME, CEMENT, llLE PlPtU
UFFIUE WITH G. WARD SELL EC
WALL STREET. NORW; L h
DORLON HOUSE
.OINT.
.GREGORY’S
NOW OPEN FOR THE SEASON UFEIBQI.
’ SHORE DINNEBS,
- .d M. x..-\
I
.4
..-.-—‘v~.-
RHODE ISLAND OLAM CAKE,
BATlllllli, BOATING, FISHING.
Electric cars to Hotel, every twenty
minutes.
JOHN E. O’SULLIVAN,
Manager.
Lars: c; l '
EAL-SAM
/
25C
Ask Your Drug glst
AT HUME.
Don’t go out of town to
have your Awnings
made when you can get
them right here at
home just as cheap.
If you want a canopy
for a party or a wed-
, ding, I will supply it-at
' two hours’ notice.
A letter or postal card
will .receive prompt at.
tention.
P. E. CALLAHAN,
Awning Maker,l
63 Cross St: Norwalk.
. TH E EVE N IN GQGA Zn TT'E
GOL‘DILOCKS.
Goldilocks sat. on the grass,
Tying up of pos‘ies fair.
Hardly could a sunbeam pass ‘
Through the cloud that was her hair.
Purple orchids lasteth long,
Primrose flowers are fair and clear,
Oh, the maiden sang a song
It would do you good to hear.
Sad before her leaned the boy.
"Goldilocks, that I love well:
Happy creature, fair and coy,
Think 0’ me, sweet Annabel."
Goldilocks she shook apart,
Looked with doubtful boubtful eyes.
Like; a. blossom in her heart.
Opened out her first surprise.
The boy may clear his brow.
Though she thinks to say'him nay,
When she sighs, “I cannot now;
Come again some other day.”
—Jean Ingelow.
THE ENGINE-DRIVER.
"Yes, sir. That old shuntin’ engine
that’s puffing an’ snortin’ like a
broken-winded old horse, could tell a
tale, if it wasn’t so short 0’ breath.
That’s the very engine old John
Wright used to drive when I was his
stoker. Let me see—I’ve been drivin’
three year—aye, it’ll be ten year
come next September. He was a fine
figure of a'man, was John. ‘He stood
six feet one an’ a half in his stockin’s.
an’ was broad in the shoulders, too
In his greasy peaked cap, an’ oily blue
jacket, he looked a giant.
' “Was he an old man?”
“Oh, no; he'd be forty odd, I sup-
pose, but -I was a young man of
twenty—three, an’ he seemed old, like,
to me. As I’ve said, he was a bachelor
an’, as far as I knew, likely to remain
one. There wasn’t much of the la-
dies’ man about John. But still
waters run deep, they say, an’ John
Wright had his little secret.
“About three mile out o’ town, I
used to notice that he whistled three
times and always looked across a
couple 0’ fields, a bit farther on, as if
he were lookin’ for somethin’. I ask-
ed him once or twice what it was, but
he edged me off, an’ changed the sub-
ject. so I didn’t press it. l3ut I kept
my eyes open.
“It was early winter when I first
went on to stoke for John, an’, of
course, bein’ a goods train, it was gen-
eraly gettin’ on for eight o’clock at
night when we passed this partic’lar
spot, bound for Barnham, fifty mile
away. It’s ‘up bank,’ as I daresay you
know, from he1e to Longbridge, eight
mile up the line, an’ we never got any
great speed on until we’d passed that
length, especialy when we’d a heavy
freight. But all I could make out
for some months was the dim outline
of a cottage, that had an ‘upstairs’
window with a led blind. The cottage
lay a couple 0’ fields away. What
made me notice the red blind was that
as we passed. the window was always
suddenly lighted up. "
“Aye, an’ so was John VVright’s face
as soon as ever he saw it. Such a
smileI—an’ he had a kind face, had
old John—an’ then he’d seem lost a
bit, as'if he were thinkin’ o’ somethin’
as .was good to think about. ,
“I chaffed John rarely about it, first
time I saw it, an’ he blushed—he did
indeed sir! Though his face was
grimy on the top, and COpper color
under that, I’ll swear he blushed. But
he looked pleased an’ proud, for, by
that time,
friends, that I’m sure he didn’t mind
me knowin’.
“Then, bit by bit, it all came out.
John and her father who used to be ‘
pointsman at Chubb Junction, half a ’
mile farther up the line than the cot- !
John
had gone up for a ‘camp’ every Sunday '
he’d known Mary
Mathers since she was born, an’ when
tage, had been lads together.
for many a year.
she was a little lass he’d nursed her
on his, knee, an’ told her he’d wait for 5
her. I dare say he meant it in fun at
the time, but, as she grew up, he knew
he liked to be where she was better a
in the world. g
Then Tom ‘
than anywhere else
That’s how he put it, sir.
Mathers, her father, fell ill, an’ I
learnt afterwards, an’ I guessed even
then, that John “Tight made his 1
wages keep four instead of one. Mary’s
father never‘ worked again. He was
on his back for eighteen months, an’
then he died. i
“An’ then, you may be sure, John
was a father to the fatherless, an’ a
husband to the widow—as far as look-
in’ after "em went, at any rate—only
he wanted to be a husband to the
daughter, Mary.
“Mary seemed to make no objection.
Why should she? She’d never met
anybody she liked better, an’ a. finer
fellow than John Wright never walk—
ed! .
“One - Saturday night he says:
‘Harry, you’d better walk o’er wi’ me
to-morrow.’
“ ‘Walk
‘where?’
“ ‘Why, to Mrs. Mathers’, to be sure.
I’d like you to know my Mary. An’
then you can tell me what you think
of my swetheart’.
that sweet, far—off look came in his
face, an’ I knew he loved that lass as
few laSses are loved.
“Well, I went; an' I wished at the
time I’d stayed away. '
o’er wi’ you,’ ‘I says;
never, never be the same again. God
forgi’ me! but after that Sunday I felt
at times I hated John Wright. When
she stood at the stile, at the crosing
midway between the cottage an’ the
signal—box—as she did every evenin’
from the very day I went wi’ Johnw-
an’ waved'her hand to him, bashfrl-
like, an’ he threw her a clumsy his 3
I felt I could ba’ knocked him or' the ‘
engine.
'1 fought .
understand, I. didn‘t feel that -_
we‘d grown such thick,
"An’ as he said it i
It was love at'
. first sight wi’ me, an’ I felt I should
again’ it—an',, you :1""'.5 .
- e
[the time, for we were good friends,
‘a; an’ no one would have seen a differ-
ear ;but when he talked of her, in his
(111:3; way—of bein’ wed, an’ such- like
—it was like knives in me.
-“T hen he pressed me to go again
an’ spend Sunday at the cottage. I
put him off, but he wouldn’t take
‘no’ for an answer. So, whether for
faar cf hurtin’ his feelings, or because
I couldn’t keep away, I can’t say, but
1 yielded, an’ went. After .that I
went several timesyan’ each time I
got deeper an’ deeper in love with
John’s sweetheart, aye, an’ what
seemed worse, I couldn’t help knowin’
that Mary was troubled\the same way.
But I will say this, I never tried to
make ‘Mary love me, an’ never a word
of love passed between us, "but,
cme‘. imes, I thought I saw trouble in
Johns eyes, an’ then I vow to myself
to go no more. .
“One evenin’, in the early autumn
of that year, we were goin’ at as good
a speed as the incline would let us,
an’ just gettin’ towards the cottage.
John had sent me around to th’
front 0’ the engine with my oil—can,
an’ I couldn’t help lookin’ ahead to
see if Mary was standin’ waitin’ at
the stile. Yes, she was there
as usual, right in front of us, for the
line curved to the right just at the
stile, an’ was hidin’ from view be-
hind a little wood. I ‘could see her
print dress, an’ the same white linen
bonnet she wore when I first saw her
in the garden on that spring evenin’.
Oh, how my heart went out to her,
an’ how that old wicked feelin’ to-
wards John rushed through me, an’
made my nerves tingle from head to
foot.
“Mary had her back towards us—
a very unusual thing—an’ I remember
wonderin’ why. Then the usual
three whistles sounded, short an’
sharp. She turned instantly, an'
threw up her hands like one demented.
We went thunderin’ down to the
crossin’ where she stood, an’ I saw her
eyes starin’ at me, like coals of fire set
in a face as white as chalk. She fas-
cinated -me.
“Just then old thn shut off steam,
an’ I heard him doin’ a thing he’d
never done afore—reversin’ the en-
gine! All of a sudden Mary seemed
to wake up, an’ find a horrible dream
true, for I heard above the roar of
the train, the grindin’ of the rails, an'
the shriek of the brakes,that had been
jammed hard down—I heard one
piercing scream. It was a word—my
name—‘Harry! ’
breathless second or two. Half a life—
time is sometimes squeezed into half
a minute, sir. I took my eyes from
Mary’s face as we passed her, stand-
in’ as if turned to stone, an’ I looked
ahead. Heavens! what a sight!
Bearin’ down on us at a great speed
was an engine an’ tender—a runaway!
It was comin’ down the bank tender
first, an’ we were timed to meet at
the junction. I saw it all in a flash.
The train was jumpin’ like a buckin’
horse, an’, with my body all of a
tremble, I’d as much as I could do. to
get back to the foot-plate.
“There stood John VVrig'ht, of
course. Ix seemed to see him, an’
naught else. He’d done all man could
do, an’ was standin’ stock-still, with
one hand on the lever. But it wasn’t
his stillness that made the tears start
to my eyes. It was the look on his
free. It made me nearly forget the
i doom to which we were rushing. I
c:.-'t describe it. It was the look of
a. man who has nothing left to live
i f;:—~whose 'hope had been suddenly
wiped clean out for ever.
'The instant he saw me his face
citznged. He sprang towards me an’,
se'zin’ me by the arm with a grip of
31:31, spoke in a horse whisper that
could \be heard above everything:
'.I:_n1p off, my lad—you’ve time—you
:21 do it. Jump offl—for her sake—
’ :2 o loves thee, lad—she loves thee—
?cr her sake. Harry—for Heaven’s
5:.lze!’
i --1 said. ‘Nay, Jchn.”’ .
“ ‘Quick,’ he says. ‘Harry! Harry!
Irinp for your Mary's sake;’
“I swung one. leg off the engine—
12". -1 was dea1—an’ prepared to spring
3'. o the grass. Tien a great surgin’
lc e f01 this man came over me, an’
i 1111'ned sudden— like, an took him by
:_;e hand, an’ I says, ‘John we’ll stick
together, an’ die together—if it’s God’s
will—for her sake An’ he just gave
1;?) that sweet look, an’ slapped in
[innit of me, as if to put his great
[1.Lme betwixt me an’ death, an’ there
came a crash as if heaven an’ ez'rith
had met, an’ I seemed to roll own an’
over, an’ then it felt as if the whole
earth had risen up an’ smitten me—
an’ I knew no more.
:1: vi: it *
“I woke from a troubled dream, that
seemed to have lasted a lifetime, an’
opened my eyes, half conscious, an’
not sure but I was still dreamin’
Then I slipped off again, an’ I remem-
ber thinking that the sweet eyes, that
mine had see-med to meet, were the
3eyes of my guardian angel. An’ they
l were, sir-for, when I opened my eyes
again, all the past came back to me
with the tearful face of Mary Mathers.
“I put my hand out on the counter—
pane, an’ she put hers gently on the
top of it. An’, believe me, sir, that’s
the only way I ever ‘popped the ques:
tion.’ We’d been thrOugh too much
together to need muchfuss.
“ ‘Where is he?’ I framed my lips
to say. I don’t know whether she
heard, but she understood, for she put
her hand into her bosomhan’ drew
exit a black—edged card, an’ held it
before my eyes, whilst her own filled
z'gain with tears. I read: ‘In love—
g'mem01y of John Wright. who was
_ 3.3. lied at the post of duty.’ " \
1 ”And you’ve been happy in your
.rarried life?”
- "Happy! Happy isn’t the word for.
v ", sir. Ours is "one of the matches'
i..:ade in Heaven.”
“Of course, all this happened in a.
m
l "01. nd
l
l
i
A 3117 or Hisrour.‘
A LOVE‘MATCH RUINED BYTHE l.” "
RIAGE OFA KING lN THE FAMlL " ~
The Duke of Roxburghe was Engage“i 1
Princess or Moekienbur. .. but. Gun 5'» 11=
Destroyed the Possibility of The“ Ii 11;,-
pineal.
The sale of some of the famous 110';-
burghe library some weeks ago. on 131.4.
anniversary of the bibliomuniac Duke
of ROXburghe’s death (March 29), was
a cOincidence which brought back to
many minds the tender memory of a
long-vanished romance.
John Kerr,.Duke of Roxbu-rghe, was
one of the handsomest and perhaps the
most accomplished British noblemen of
his day. He boasted collateral descent
from the “Admirable Crichton,” and
his rare combination of rare good
books, rare learning and rare courage
naturally recalled that celebrated
though unfortunate peisonnge I-Ie
succeeded to the dukedom in. 1755211111
immediately proceeded to lay siege to
and capture the heart of the princess
of Mecklenburg. The old Duke of
Mecklenburg was willing enough to
consent to the match, for Roxburghe
was rich, while the house of Mecklen-
burg, though sovereign princes, were
poor as church mice. But just as the
young couple were aboutto be be-
trothed the well-intentioned villain of
the story in the person of King George
III of' England came wife-hunting
among the little German courts.
Eventually he chose the younger
daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg.
a sister of his subject’s wife, and so
the old Duke coolly informed Rox-
burghe that he must consider his love
affair at an end. The young couple at-
tempted an elopement, but this was
frustrated, and a company of soldiers
escorted the young Duke over the
Mecklenburg border.
Roxburghe returned to England,
where he lived and died a bachelor.
His lady love was equally constant,
refusing all offers, flattering or other-
wise, and eventually dying in single
blessedness. Robbed of his love the
Duke took to book hunting as a means
to forgetfulness. He became the
greatest collector of his day, and at
his death the Boxburghe library real-
of bibliophiles, called the “Box-
burghe,” meets annually to celebrate
his memory.
But poor Sophia of Mecklenburg had
no great library to console her—no
Gax-tons and Aldines to browse over.
She dwelt in proud sorrow in a retired
part, of her father’s dominions until
her death, which occurred. nearly fif-
teen years before that of Roxburghe.
To the end the unhappy pair corres-
ponded regularly, and their passionate
letters are now in possession of the
Grand ,Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.
And so, when the Roxburghe Club
meets annually, it is the custom of the
members to drink a double toast, “To
John Kerr, Duke of Roxburghe, and
his wellobeloved Princess, Sophia of
Mecklenbu-rg.”——Excha_nge.
PRONOUNCED IT “Sl-OUX."
Which Distressed the Westerners and the
New Clerk Lost. His Ponitlon.‘
Congressman Hepburn of Iowa tells
how he once got back a $2,000 ofiice
knowing how to pronounce Sioux. “I
the Iowa House of Representatives
for several terms, but the wheel of po
litical fortune had finally brought in
a House that was not as friendly as
I could wish. Another candidate ap-
peared, and hue and I had a warm
fight. with the result that he defeated
me by a few votes in the Republican
caucus. The House was organized,
and this man was duly elected chief
clerk. It so happened that the first
papel he had to lead was a communi-
cation relative to the Sioux Indians.
The name ‘Sioux’ appeared very fre-
puently, and the new clerk persisted
in calling it “Si-oux,’ to the disgust of
the old Westerners, who had been ac-
customed to the correct pronunciation
all their lives. As soon as the House
adjourned on the first day one of the
Republican leaders asked all Repub-
licans to remain for a caucus. The
caucus having been convened, this
gentleman arose and said: “I move
that the present chief clerk be dis—
charged and that J. P. Hepburn, the
former chief clerk of this body, be re-
elected. W’e want a man who knows
110w to pronounce ‘Sioux.’ ” The mo-
tion was adopted unanimously, and I
was reinstated because I knew better
than to call ‘Sioux’ ‘Si-oux.’ ”—New
York Tribune.
— WOMAN’S ENORMOUS WARDROBE.
{lying at Seventy-Five Years of Age She
Leaves 175 Gowns.
M 1's. Dorothy Howard, aged 75
years. who recently died in Jefferson-
ville. End, wasone of the most eccen-
tric \mfnen in the state. In spite of
her 53' “wine age, the old lady dressed
as g 1.;\' as a girl of 15. At her
deaih she had 175 dresses, most of
them of the finest quality, innumera-
ble skirts and othei wearing apparel.
The auction of her effects drew a
large and curious crowd, and the bid-
111115 to secure her handsome silk
Hie-“e . dozens of which had never
been 11 cm. was lively. Her hobby
was I» spend he1 entire income for
gaudi and costly wearing apparel.—
New Stork Mail and Express. .1:
A Plain Direction.
Canon Knox—Little told a good story
once at a church congress. He said
remembered a lych-gate in front
‘11 beautiful church, ’ which had
restored and made very nice.
are was painted over the door,
:‘izis is the Gate of Heaven.” and un-
mneath was the large notice, “Go
the other
‘ ..1-1...'.... ..i.A ..-...
W 01 ds.
1 .. 4.....-» -1-
Of course, a king could not mate with
ized over $115,000. To this day a club ~
had been chief clerk,” he says, “of,
way.”—Housel.old
l
clothes are clean and white as the driven snow. The
superb cake of Toilet Soap in every package of
lvorine, will be found peculiarly delightful for
Toilet, Bath and Nursery, and for keeping the
hands soft, white and smooth.
The J. B. WILLIAMS 00.. Glastonbury, Conn.
Makers of Williams Famous Shaving Soaps.
Write for catalogue of choice premiums. ,
,Vorine :
WASHING Powoia
Like all Fairies
lvorine works as 117
by magic. A table;
’Spoonful of lvorine
to a pail of water,-
and lo! the dirt has.
disappeared—and the
K.
1
1
WASHING POWDER
HE FLOURISHED A WINNING CARD. '
And the Colored People Flock to H'. m to
be Spliced.
Judge Reuben S. Safiold, of Georgi-.1.
has made a tremendous reputation as
a marrying judge, and the colored pee
ple “flock to him in droves," says the
Jackson, Miss, Clarion-Ledger. to have
the knot tied. His popularity is due
in part to the graceful flourishes user“.
in the marriage service. Here is the
final flourish in his amplified form 01
the service: “By the authority vested
in me as an officer of the State of
Georgi' , which is sometimes called the
Empire State of the South, by the
fields of cotton that lie spread abroad
in'snowy whiteness around us, by the
bowl of the coon dog and the gourd
vine whose clinging tendrils wili'shad-e
the entrance to your humble dwelling
place, by the red'and luscious heart of
the watermelon, whose sweetness fills
the heart with joy, by heaven and
earth, in the presence of the witnesses,
l pronounce you man and wife.”
A cool: ‘sf'rbnv OF BLAINE.
(he Stu. Robbed of. Fine Actor Accord-
ing to Gen. Shel-mun.
A good story of James G. Blaine is
hold by a- writer in the St. Louis Globe-
Democrat. The incident related was
1 magnanimous and clever act of the
Maine statesman, when, as Speaker
>f the House, he got through a resolu-
:ion appropriating $12,000 to the needy
widowed daughter of Zachary Taylor.
She, had reached Washington on her
way to Paris to see a sick daughter,
and, being destitute of money, ap-
pealed to her only friend at the capital,
General Sherman. His purse was al-
ways open to the distressed, but he
had no funds at all adequate to relieve
her necessities. In this emergency he
thought of Blaine. The man from
Maine entered into the spirit of the oc-
casion as soon as he heard General
Sher-man’s statement. He called an-
other to the chair, made a five-minute
speech that fairly electrified the House,
which passed the resolution which
Blaine had penned only a moment be-
fore. He took the resolution. in per-
son to the Senate, where it also was
Immediately passed, had the President
to sign it the next day, and the follow-
:ng day the beneficiary got the money.
General Sherman always insisted that
Blaine would have made the grandest
actor that ever lived, and in adapting
his career to politics he robbed the
:tage of a bow star.
HF. EARNED 'His REPUTK'TI‘ON.
No Sausage to Sell and No Demand and
. Yet the Price Declined.
Mr. Depew’s reputation as a good
story-teller is so well known that it is
unnecessary to comment upon it. Prob-
ably one of the best stories with which
he delights his audiences is the one
involving the question of supply and
demand, and the regulating of prices
solely by these two factors. In dis-
pute of this Mr. Depew says that one
day he was walking along a street and
passed :1 German butcher shop; Out
of curiosity he entered the place and
inquired the price of sausages.
“Dwenty cents a bount,” replied the
butcher.
"But," said Mr. Depew, “it seems to
me I saw your sign this morning, and
it read ‘Fresh Sausages. 25 cents a
pound.’ Why did you reduce your
price?”
"Oh, dot was all right. I don’t got
done now und I can’t sell any. Dot-
nakes me a reputation for selling
.:l1eap. 11nd I don’t lose noddings.”
According to this, as Mr. Depew
says. "The-re was no demand, as I did-
n’t want any. and there was no sup-
ply, as the butcher hadn’t any, and yet
rho price of sausages went down.”
._,————-—.—.
THE GREATEST PARK iN'fI-lE WORLD
Some Idea Given of the Immense Area of
This National Reservation. _
Uncle Sam set apart a royal pleas
ure ground in Northwestern Wyom-
ing and called it Yellowstone National
Park. To give an idea of what its
size, 3,312 square miles, really means,
let us clear the floor of the park, and
tenderly place some of the greatclties
of the world there, close to ether, as
children do their blocks. Fi t put in
London, then Greater New York; 911i-
cago, Philadelphia, Paris,” Boston,
Berlin, St. Louis, Kong-Kong, San-
Francisco and Washington. The floor
of the park would then be but half
covered. Then lift up Rhode Island
carefully, so as not to spill any of its
people, set it down and press in the
West Indies—and even then ere are
two hundred square miles left. No
equal area in the world has such a di-
versity of natural phenomena and such
magnificent scenery. It is a marvel.
lous land of streams and waterfalls.
geysers and hot springs, mountains,
canyons, lakes and forests of pri‘mo
val age.—Ladies’ Home Journal.
/ .—- .._\
THE , ORIGINAL
Stamped I. Boss ,,
Always the Same
lights the way and stays lighted. All brass." _
nickel-plated—no tin; outside oil-filler; cotton, 5,
packed oil fount; double convex ground photo- -
lens, burns kerosene, throws a light 90 it. and "
weighs but 12 ounces. ,
Three years a leader, and three years’ , .
improvements now added. Absolutely the L «
handsomest and best bicycle lamp ever made. '
Sold by all leading dealers.
THE PLACE 8: TERRY MFG. CO.,
. See our new, cheaper lamp-the “Searcher.”
247 Centre Mew York.
Norwalk Chronicler