Pleasure for warm, thirsty
people}?— it’s so delightfully
cooling and refreshing—-
invigorates the whole sys-
. tem —-soothes the nerves—
‘I-i fl iégw promotesrestful slumber and
- I I III" ahearty appetite for food.
assert-*5
euuuue
Born Palnt
Cures CORNS, BUNIONS and WAR'I'S
SPEEDILY and WITHOUT PAIN.
FOR SALE BY— TLL DRUGGISTS.
LIPPMAN BROTHERS, Prop’ rs,
Llppman’s Block, SAVANNAH, GA.
NEIIE ’ YOUR IINANIIE.
A fine building lot on Wilton ave-
nue. If you intend to build, 1001: a1
this before purchasing.
Water, gas and sewer on the avenue.
Will be sold at a Bargain.
W. H. BYING to“
Real Estate and Insurance
Room I. Gazette B’l’d.
11111110111 COAL co
FLOWS, FLOWS IIEPIIIIIED,
,GOIL, WOOD, BRICK,
IIME, CEMENT, IILE PIPE.
tiOFFICE WITH G. WARD SELLECB
WALL STREET. nonwa :‘LK.
DORLON HOUSE
GREGORY’S .OINT.
—_—_
NOW OPEN FOR THE SEASON 0FI1897.
_—
SNIIIIE DINNEIIS,
IINIIIIE ISLAND OLAId BAKE,
BATNING, BOATING, FISHING.
Electric cars to Hotel, every twenty
minutes.
JOH N E. O’SULLIVAN,
Manager.
11AM
//
‘1—
‘ sk Yo.ur Druggist
1 Hour.
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,
.53 Cross St. Merwalk.
w. .
I .
A RECEIPT FOR A DAY.
“Take a dash of water cold
And a little leaven of prayer,
A little bit of Sunshine gold
- Dissolved in the morning air;
Add to your meal some merriment
And a thought fot kith and kin,
And then as a prime ingredient
Aplenty of work thrown in.
But spice it all with the essence of love
And a little whifl? of play;
Let a. wise old Book and a glance above
Complete the well-spent day.”
NEMESIS.
. BY VICTOR GAGE KIMBERT.
'The library in Governor Andrews’
handsome residence was dimly lighted
for it was early in the evening, the soft
light falling from the chandelier
brought out more clearly the beauty of
each picture and work of art, with
which the wealthy governor liked to
surround himself. There were books
all the way from the great encyclo-
paedias down to the last review, stat-
ues and bronzes from other lands, and
a great easy—chair where the governor
himself sat when wearied by the cares
and duties of office.
But to-night no chair that was ever
upholstered could rest his weary frame
for before him knelt a woman in bit«
terest agony, imploring him to exercise
his prerogative and save the life of her
husband, who was condemned to death.
She was a beautiful woman; her face
was colorless, but each feature was ex-
quisitely molded, and her large, soft
eyes, luminous with tears and sad-
dened by grief were in themselves
lovely enough to make even a plain
‘ face glorious. - 1
How she pleaded. She used every
argument that a desperate woman
could think of, but in vain. She told
him of the little children who must
bear the terrible heritage of shame
from no fault of theirs, andvpictured
the want and wretchedness awaiting
them as well as herself. She told of
the kindness of the husband when
sober, and reiterated the fact that but
for intoxication his hand would never
have been raised against a fellow-
man; how he had said if he might
have another chance no drop of in—
toxicants should ever cross his lips,
but that he would try hard to redeem
the past. She did not try to make his
other woman, not herself, could not.
have produced ,better arguments. She
saw herself and her husband as they
began housekeeping in a small way
to be sure, biit still comfortably, with
a little room for his mother, who had
not been at all the disagreeable person
mothers—in-laws were said to be, but
a real mother to the tired clerk, whc
knew far more about the color and
price of a yard of ribbon than she did
of housekeeping. She had learned
very rapidly, the older woman had
kindly said, and had taken great pride
in her work and in keeping the little
ones neat and clean when they had
come one by one into the nest, which
Was always crowded, yet not full
enough to overflow. Then she saw
her husband in his cell, awaiting ex-
ecution, and then—a woman fainted in
the car, and kind hands raised her,
and a physician on the train gave her
a restorative, and after a While she
left it leaving the passengers to won-
der about the beautiful woman who
was in such evident grief. ,
“Something out of the ordinary,”
said the physician. “Her trouble was
no common afiair. She was at the
point of exhaustion. I suggested her
stopping at S—— and entering the
hospital there for a week; but she re-
fused so vehemently that there was
nothing more to be said, for of ecurse
I had no right to insist. But it will
be an insane asylum in the end, I im-
agine; she was three-fourths dement-
ed to-night.”
Sane or insane, her condition did not
prevent her from reaching home. With
bitter moans she told her sad failure
crime less, or object to the justice of’
the penalty; she only pleaded for
mercy—pleaded, too with such an ut-
ter abandonment of grief that the eyes
of the governor grew moist, and his'
heart ached in sympathy with hers;
but still, as before, he refused her
petition.
“It is simply impossible, madame.
Much as I feel for your grief, than
which none can be greater, I should
be untrue to all principles of justice
should I interfere with the regular
course of the law. Your husband has
had a fair trial; and I am sorry to
say it to you. but I think he has been
justly condemned for the crime for
which he will lose his life. That you
and your innocent children should al-
so suffer is deplorable; if sin could be
robbed '1ng its complexity, so that
none bii‘ti'the guilty should suffer its
consequences, it would be less horrible
but so long as there is sin there must
also be suffering by the sinner and all
connected with him to the last de-
gree. His condition at the time of
the crime, though serving as an ex-
cuse in your eyes, goes for little in
the eyes of the world at large. The
public are already tired of having
flimsy excuses brought up to defeat the
ends of justice. It is difficult to con-
vict a criminal, for the simple reason
that his attorneys move heaven and
earth to find something which will apa
peal to a jury and result in at least
a disagreement. That your husband
was convicted at the first trial is evi-
dence to me that the case must have
been remarkably clear.”
“Not so,” she interrupted, eagerly.
v
to her husband’s mother, who listened
to each word in a curious, half-dazed
way, yet asking many questions com
cerning her reception and the gover-
nor’s manner. 1
“I was foolish to let you go,” she
said, slowly. “I might have known it
would not answer. I will go myself
to-morrow.”
“Oh, mother, it will be useless! You
. could say nothing that I have not al-
ready said. He lost patience at the
last. I doubt if you can see him
even.”
“I shall see him,” the elder woman
answered. a strange look upon her
face, comely yet, in spite of the half
century and more it had known. “I
shall see him, and I believe he will
give me my son’s life.’
“Then why, oh, why did not you go
at first?”
“Becai. se I would rather suffer , a
dozen deaths than go—but to save his
life—yes, I must do it!”
“Why do you think he will listen to
you, mother?" queried the wife, anxi-
ously.
No reply save a slow shake of the
head was vouchsafed, and she took her
' departure, leaving anxious forebodings
“It only means that we had no means ,
to employ skilled talent. But it is
not a new trial for which I am beg-
ging. It is not justice but mercy that
I implore, and oh! I beseech you, in
the name of your own fair sons and
daughters to be pitiful to me in my
extremity!”
The kind face of the governor work-
ed painfully, and tears that were no
discredit to his manhood filled his
eyes; but still he had the same reply.
“I cannot do what you wish. The
power of pardon-is no child’s toy, to
be given at pleasure, but a great re—
sponsibility, to be used with the ut—
most precaution, lest the barriers
against crime are destroyed and the
innocent left to the mercy of the law-
less.”
Still she did not yield. Still she
pleaded till at last his patience was ex-
hausted. and he told her firmly 5113
must desist.
“Gnly my great pity for you has in-
duced me to listen so long. He must
die 011 the day appointed. I shall not
interfere.”
She went slowly out into the night.
It was very dark, though she had not
noticed the gathering shadows while
in the library, so intense had been her
anguish; but she knew now that she
mrst'have been pleading for hours,
and she wondered at the patience that
had suffered her presence so long. She
began to feel bodily exhaustion, and
stopped at a near-by bakery to get 'a
roll and a cup of tea, that she might
have strength for the railway journey
before her.
' Mechanically she entered the car,
and paid her fare when the conductor
asked her for her ticket, for she had
neglected to buy one, and her head
whirled so that it seemed as if she
were some one else, and not connected
in the remotest degree with the woman
who had knelt in the governor’s li-
brary. Slowly .the scene flitted before
her and 'she tried hard to realize how
he could have done other Wise than he
did; and then she wondered if that
! thin myself
in the mind of her daughter-in—law as
to her sanity.
But there was no doubt of her sanity
as she stood before Governor Andrews
and demanded the life of the man for
whom his wife had pleaded so nobly.
“Am I never to have any rest from
this case?” he cried, angrily.
“As much as you deserve, probably,”
was the reply, “for you are in a great
measure responsible for the crime for
which this man is condemned, and
ought to pay part of the penalty.”
“Nonsense! I never saw the man,
and I assure you I shall grant no par-
don, either for threats of entreaties.”
“I shall ofier neither. It is true, in-
deed, that you never saw him; yet you
will never dare to let him go to a
felon’sudeath, for, strange as it would
seem to the world in which you are
so popular, this man is your son!”
“What dolyou mean? Who are
you?” gasped the governor, though her
words had brought a grim possibility
before his mind.
“I am Annette Wilkins. I was An-
nette Brainard.” He started and vis-
ibly paled. “When you came to our
village forty years ago, there was not
nore innocent, light-hearted girl
Y0111 memory will tell
ycu if l .1121 s pietty 01 not, and how
I foolishly prized the fatal beauty that
2‘.
only worked my destruction. You
1111011 what your flattery and false
words 01’ love wrought, and what a
wrecked, ruined thing you left in place
of the simple country girl you found.
You do well to talk of justice!” she
cried with sudden contempt. “You
are well fitted to be the governor of a
large commonwealth, you, who left me,
utmost a child in years, to meet the
"‘izseque;;ces of our mutual sin! I
wonder if there is justice in earth or
heaven when success like this”—and
she glanced at his luxurious surround-
ings—“is permitted to such as you.
while your oldest son lies in a felon’s
cell!”
There was
man said:—
“For twenty-five years I have lived
a clean, God—fearing life; ,the crime
and .folly of my youth I believed re-
pented of and forgiven; but repentance
rises not undo, and I must face the
future. You tell me I am responsible
for this unhappy-young man’s crime;
how can that be?”
“In a drunken quarrel’my poor boy
killed the ritflian who assailed the
honor of his mother, whom he had al-
ways believed to be a widow. I left
the old home before he was born, and
shought my wretched story was for-
gotten; but scandal never dies.”
‘ ‘1Iiy sin has found me out, ” said the
governor. He spoke like a feeble old
man. “Since circumstances have made
It.]L‘11‘.SSlI)Ie for me to save him, my son
must not die on the gallows. There is
110 other way; I must write the par—
:lon. If I could pay the penalty my—
self it might be just, but the law would
iccept no substitute, and my poor wife
and children would ° suffer needless
shame. You Will not have suffered
alone,” he said, in a curious tone.
1‘
a.
1011: -, silence; then the
"‘When I sign that pardon I sign my
own political death warrant, for an'
)utraged public will ’be my censor.” ,
BLUE A FAVORITE IN TAILOR GOWNS.
i’ilfl'ed Sleeves a Later Style Than
Tucked Ones.
31' "rrcial Arrangement’with the N. Y. 81111.)
Tho'most useful gown thisseason is
the foulard 01' India. It fills up all de-
mands and is always ready. It is al-
ways in order, and itgives the wearer
a chance of wearing all the daring
combinations of color that have been
allowed this season. One in bright
blue, with quantities of crea‘fii- colored
lace, is finished at waist and throat
with bright green ribbons; it has a
'101?
dark red showing out from under the
falls of lace, and the skirt as it flies
out shows the red silk lining. This is
a very stylish garment, in a combina-
tion of blue and violet, although likely
to offend the eye unless the right
shades are chosen. Narrow fringe is
used to edge the rufifles of some of
these foulard gowns. One in brown
and ecru is trimmed with narrow
brown fringe on the little ruffles which
are lined with a bright red. The
bodice has a deep fall of broader fringe
falling from a yoke of Irish lace over
the red silk. The waist is finished
with a red chiifon sash fringed at the
ends. .. 1, , - ' 1
The organdies are fascinating in
their varying tints and combinations.
A light green, trimmed with ruffles of
a darker shade, is edged 'with creamy
lace and headed with a row of in-
sertion of the same lace above each
ruflle. Made over a light green slip
of lawn, a silk of the same hue and a
soft chiffon sash of the darker green,
such a gown is a refreshing bit of
simplicity. A very sheer black, with
lavender flowers covering its surface,
is finished with five little ruffles about
the skirt, edged with black lace, and
worn over a lavender undergown. Ruf-
fles of the lavender lawn trim the
bodice. These extend the same over
the sleeves and across the front, form-
ing a bertha, finished to a point, with
a soft wrinkle belt and bow of laven-
der.
White is a great favorite, as it al-
ways‘ is, but it is not the simple white
swiss Of long ago, but is a compound
of so many frills, laces, and ribbons
that it is like a foaming heap of loveli-
ness. These pattern-s can be Worn as
effectively over a slip of lawn as the
more expensive silk slip. Of course,
all the beautiful transparent fabrics
are used most becomingly, but they are
far more expensive gauzes, grena—
dines, chiffon, and a coarse silk net,
which must have the silk und-erdress
of pale tints. Some of the canvases
that they must have the taffeta’s silk
‘ foundation to give them the required
stiffness. In shading they are as deli-
cate as in texture and make the most
exquisite gowns, vieing with the mous-
seline de soie. For more enduring
service these can be found also in all
dark shades, making them most use--
ful for street wear. .
“They offered a Bible at our church
last year to the most regular attend--
ant. ”
‘ ‘fWho got the Bible?"
>“The sexton.”
THE'EVENING GAZETTE.
and gr-enadines are so delicately woven ‘
I
HE -D. WILLIAMS CO.
. 1 if?“
For clothes, dishes, and all
cleaning purposes, IVORINE WASHING
POWDER' IS matchless.
The splendid cake of Toilet Soap in every packa. e is the delight at
the whole family.
Makers of Williams Famous Shaving Soaps.
Write for catalogue of choice premiums.
11111 10M)
v
G'. nsroneunv. Conn.
SPRUCE BECOMING SCARCE.
Canadian Lumbermen Would Profit by
a Famine in the United States.
Spruce trees are the raw material of
wood pulp, and consequently of . a
large proportion of the paper used in
the printing trade. According to estid
mates recently given out by the Fores-
try Department at Washington there
is only six years’ supply of coniferous
woods in sight if the present rate of
consumption is kept up. Dealers in,
wood pulp are somewhat skeptical re-
garding this statement, although they
admit the increasing scarcity of spruce
in this country. There are thousands
upon thousands of acres of untouched
fspr‘uce forest in Canada, however, and
the Canadian lumbermen are contem‘
plating with no small degree of ind
tel est the prospects of a spruce famine
in the United States. .11er tie—
1“ Although essential to the manu-
facturer and to trade, Spruce trees are
of surprislngly mmall value as they
stand in the forest. A writer in The
'Paper Mill says that there are be:
tween four and six hundred spruce
trees on an acre of ground, such as in
various parts of New England would
be worth between $5 and $12 per acre.
Taking 400 trees to the acre as a
basis of calculation, it is shown
that they would be worth only 2 or
3 cents each. It is hard to realize how
cheaply nature does its work in grow-
ing forest trees. Along the upper wa—
ters of the Penobscot River the lum—
bermen pays about $2.50 per thousand
,foot stumpage for the right to cut
twelve trees on the average in the
forest, to make this, thousand feet, or
a trifle over 20 cents a tree. The cut-
a..«_;
Pi
ting and hauling of these Penobscot
spruce trees will average from 40 to
50 cents each.
m sum. RAISING.
Large Quantities of the Little Animals I
Consumed in France.
Snail farming forms a peculiar
branch of agricultural industry in .
France and other countries, and the
consumption of them in France 'is
very large. They are propagated from I
August to October in ground especially
prepared for the purpose, and fed with
cabbage, clover, &c.
During the winter they are sheltered
in houses composed of brick or wood,
and they are gathered 'and marketed
from April to June. In the Tyrol '
from June to the middle of August the
snails are collected from every avail-
able damp place and taken to the feed-
ing ground near the owner’s dwelling.
This is a bit of garden ground free
from trees and shrubs and surrounded
on all sides by running water. In this
‘eeding ground are little heaps of
mountain pine twigs, mixed loosely-
vith wood moss, and these twigs when
try are replaced by fresh ones. Every
lay they are fed on cabbage leaves and
rass, and when cold weather sets in
hey go under cover, that is, they col-
set under the heaps of twigs and bury
hemselves and there seal themselves
up for the winter. When this haz‘
'1een successfully accomplished they
ere collected, packed in perforated
JOXSS lined with straw, and sent off
0 Paris and other towns.
.2. $1311.25.- I
A New Variety.
Jack—Did Miss Prim give you the
old shoulder or the glad hand?
Choliie—Neither. She gave me the
tilted race—New York Press.
Henry Swackhammer is the new
postmaster at Burns. He will use his [I0
name. to kill stamps with. ——Dansville I
:3t '33?!)
_ ._-_.__- .J..- .
THE ORIGINAL
Stamped II 308‘? 515 .
the Same
Always
EWWMMGQWWOMJ'WG vocvvocwwooooveoc wowwoooooc ecu» 1».
lights the way and stays lighted. All braSS,
nickel-plated—no tin; outside oil-filler; cotton
packed oil fount; double convex ground photo-
lens; burns kerosene, throws a light 30 ft. and
weighs but 12 ounces.
Three years a leader, and three yearS’
improvements now added. Absolutely the
handsomest and best bicycle lamp ever made.
QII. Pathlrghi.
Sold by
THE
.-o
- See our
247 Centre Street, New York.
Rich Men in Kansas.
There are no rich men, says William
(Allen White in the Atlantic, in these
Kansas towns. The men whotown a
million dollars’ worth of property
number less than half a score in the
whole State. Those who control half
a. million dollars’ worth of property
might ride together in a sleeping—car,
with an upper berth or two to spare.
Every town has its rich man, measured
by a local standard, who is frequently
a. retired farmer turned banker, but
not one in five of these is rated at
$100,000. Yet each is the autdcrat of
his county if he cares to be. The
mainspring that moves the town’s
daily machinery may be found in the
back room of the bank. There it is
decided whether or not the bonds shall
be voted. There it is often determined
whether there shall be eight or nine-
months of school. There the Village
chronicles are spread upon the great
ledgers every day. The town banker
supplies the money for every contest.
If he is wise, he watches his little cor—
ner of the w011d as a spider watches
from his web. The great trust which
he keeps requires a knowledge of the
details of the game that men are play-
ing around him. Yet with all his pow-
er this town banker would be counted
11 poor man in the city. Seldom is his
annual inceom as much as $10,000. But,
he lives in the best. home in the town.
The butcher saves his best cuts for
him, the grocer puts aside his best
vegetables, and the whole town waits
to do his bidding. -
A I} ridge Kept in Repair by Mussels. ,
The byssus, or silky heard, by which
the mussel moors itself to the stone,
is a familiar object of our sea rocks.
[t is in its nature like the silk of the
silk— —w0rm and exudes in a glutinous
thread from an organ at the base of
. the foot.
The following is an instance in which
the mooring of the mussel was useful
to effect a purpose which human skill
.cozrld not accomplish. A large bridge,
with twenty arches, in the town of Bid-
deford, in Devonshire crosses the Tor.
ridge river near the spot of its junction
with the Taw.
The tide flows so very rapidly here
that it was found impossible to keep
-.IOIII jo sueeur &q under 111 esprrq eqi
tar. The corporation therefore keeps
boats employed in bringing mussels to
{,1 and the interstices of the bridge are
filled by hand with these mussels.
It is supperted from being driven
away by the tide entirely by the strong
threads which these mussels fix to the
stone work, and by an act or grant it is
1 crime liable to transportation for any
pers0n to remove the mussels unless in
911le DUROH
s .redren— A‘I.’ p srqr or 31130100 111 esnou
1: J0 .ioop eqi go 3; 21d ssmq 91.11 suropn
1191th qnp ,serpnI Sunof 1: 10 31111111
8111 S; 15111 our pus ‘JBK’Gifl adrrln‘nq no]
—1{odon11un1suo;) u sunaru 1.9.111 311;,
;, s‘E uupeomonsrepugAirlosu31111113111
-1ugzuonn.1;3unp ‘eu-o sup, .10 Haggard
nousemnpianosIedouiiuutsqu ‘uom
eds n .10; S111; s; 111.01; 31111110.) pron
.111 LTIIBO'. our 30 £1.13.) 01 mus £1,112; 01'} .
four sunrureg) em, £13.13.an ‘sduurea
'eficnfz‘um .llaql 111 snoqu
am ’se sprout nous .fuuru €3.qu $3111
11 n'gnidxe 01 &sne smees SDJOALAIGJ 1:
J0 110111311 2 are smog em 112111 1912; 31:1
111q 0113119 1111111 peiurunbon err-o 91110;
Sq pexros eq 01 1fqu Kleisfm n 91
11 8..)UI10UOKI Kern, Ai'oH surmrqoqm
HOT/Op n unrn 9.10. .1 ion 3311111181110.) unit
as: our or 21311111311 Horus 13 J0 9.111 1
SI UBIIUIIJIEIS1I‘i01AllDlUlIIIl-Iil
'seulux [1111:311an 39“.“?me
mu
all leading dealers.
PLACE 81, TERRY MFG. CO»
new, cheaper lamp~thc “Scorcher.”
Norwalk Chronicler