——
.. .. a”... ._. ..;.W....r_r_uwz'.':fr.3
AT EVEN SONG.
With light winds out of nowhere fleeting;
Come out, dear lad, and sing to her
For whom your heart is beating,
While all its throbs bespeak her.
Let music fill the whole wide air,
The evening charm completing,
Just with her name's repeating,
Just with her name, the sweeting;
Come out. dear lad, and seek her.
I
l Come out. the leaves are all astir
Come down, fair maid, nor wait afar
The strain so faint, so slender;
Come down, and let the evening star
Sink in your softer splendor,
While night moths round you hover.
Nor stirring leaves nor singing tones
Can any meaning render
So sweet as love’s surrender,
So sweet as love, so tender;
Come, maid, and meet your lover.
, —-Harriet Prescott Spofiord in Harper’s Bazar.
MEHALAH.
“Look you here, Glory! the moon is full,
and that always makes him madder. I have
to keep him short of food, and strap his
shoulders, or he would tear the walls down
in his fury.”
“Let me attend to him,” asked Mehalah.
“You’d be afraid of him.”
“I should pity him,” said the girl. “He
and I are both wretched, both your victims,
both prisoners, wearing your chains.”
“You have no chains round you, Glory.”
“Have I not? I have, invisible, may be,
but firmer, colder, more given to rust into
and rub the flesh than those carried by that
poor captive. I have tried to break away,
but I cannot. You draw me back.”
“I told you I could. I have threads to
every finger. I can move you as I will. I
can bring you into my arms.”
“That—never. You may boast of your
power over me. You have a power over
me, but that power has its limits. I submit
now, but only for my mother’s sake. Were
she not dependent wholly on me, ware she
dead, I would defy you and be free, free as
the gull yonder.”
Elijah put his hand inside his door, drew
out his gun, and in a moment the gull was
Seen to fall.
“She is not dead,” said Mehalah, with a
gleam of triumph in her sad face.
“No, but winged. The wretch will flutter
along disabled. She will try to rise, and
each effort will give her mortal agony and
grind the splintered bones together and make
the blood bleed away. She will skim a little
while above the water, but at length will
fall into the waves and be washed ashore
dead.”
“Will you let me attend to your brother?”
“No, I will not.”
T shutter was dashed off its hinges, flung
out into the yard, and the two ghastly hands
were again seen strained through the bars.
Again there rang out in the gathering night
thegiteous cry, "Gloryl Glory] Gloryl”
“ y God, you hound!” yelled Elijah, and
he raised his whip to bring it down on the
white wrists.
“I cannot bear it! I will not endure it!”
cried Mehalah, and she arrested the blow.
She caught the whip and wrenched it out of
the hand of Rebow before he could recover
from his surprise, and flung it into the dike
that encircled the yard.
“You are civil,” sneered Elijah. “What
are you in this house? A servant? Then
speak and act as one.”
A hard expression settled on Mehalah’s
brow.
“Do what you will with that brother of
yours. I am indifierent to him and to his
fate. Everything in the world is all one to
me now. If you had let me think for the
peer creature and feed him, and attend to
him, I might have become reconciled to being
here; I could at least have comforted my
soul with the thought that I was ministering
to the Welfare of one unhappy wretch and
lightening his lot But now,” she shrugged
her shoulders. “Now everything is all one
to me. I can laugh,” she did so harshly.
.“There is nothing in the world that I care
for now, except my mother, and I do not
know that I care very much for her now. I
feel as if I had no heart, or that mine were
frozen in my bosom.”
“You do not care now for your mother!”
exclaimed Rebow. “Then leave her here to
my tender mercy, and go out into the world
and seek your fortune. Go on the tramp
like your gypsy ancestry.”
“Leave my mother to your mercy!” echoed
Mehalah. “To the mercy of you, who could
cut your poor crazed brother over the fingers
with a. great horsewhipl To you, who have
stung and stabbed at my self respect till it is
stupefied; who have treated me, whom you
rofess to love, as I would not treat a marsh
rier. Never. Though my heart may be
stunned or dead, yet I have sufficient instinct
to stand by and protect her who brought me
into the world and nursed me when I was
helpless. As for you, I do not hate you any
more than I love you. You are nothing to
me but a coarse, ill conditioned dog.”
She walked moodily away and regained her
room. She went to the window, the window
that looked toward the Ray, and drawing the
curtains behind her, remained there, her
head sunk, but her eyes never wavering from
the point where her home had been when she
was happy, her heart free, and her self respect
unmangled. So passed hour after hour. There
was full moon, but the sky was covered with
clouds white as curd, scudding before a. north-
west wind. The moon was dulled but hardly
obscured now and then, and next moment
glared out in naked brilliancy.
Everything in the house was hushed. Eli-
jah had gone to bed. Mehalah had heard his
heavy tread on the stair, and the hang of his
dooras be shut it; it had roused her, she
turned her head, and her face grew harderin
the cold moonlight.
Then she looked back towards the Ray.
There yonder on the marsh was something
very white, like paper, flapping and flashing
in the moonlight. What could it be? It
moved a little way, then blew up and fell
and flapped again. Was it a sheet of paper!
If so how came it not to be swept away by
the rushing wind! No, it was no sheet of
paper. Mehalah’s curiosity was roused. She
opened the window and looked out. At the
same moment it rose, fluttered nearer, eddied
up, and fell again. A cloud drifted over the
moon and made the marsh gray, and in the
shadow the restless object was lost, the flash
of white was blotted over. When the moon
gleaned out again, she saw it once more. It
did not move. The wind fore by and shook
the casement in her hand, but did not lift
and blow away that white object. Then
there was a lull. The air was still for a
moment. At that moment the white object
moved again, rose once ,more and fluttered
up, it was flying, it was nearing-it fell on
the roof of the bakehouse under the window.
Now Mehalah saw what this was. It was the
wounded gull, the bird Rebow had shot.
The miserable creature was struggling with
a broken wing, and with distilling blood, to
escape to sea to die, and drop into the dark,
towing, foaming waves, to lose itself in in-
finity. It could not expire on the land, it
must seek its native element, the untamed,
unconfined sea; it could not give forth ,. its
soul on the earth.
Was it not so with Glory? Could her free
soul rest where she now was? Could it en-
dure forever this tyranny of confinement
within impalpable walls? She who had
NORWALK GAZETTE, WEDNESDAY AUGUST 28, 1889.
lived, free as a bird, to be blown here and
there by every impulse, when every impulse
was fresh and pure as the unpolluted breath
of God that rushes over the ocean. Was she
not wounded by the same hand that brought
down the white mew? There she was flutter-
ing, rising a little, again falling, her heart
dim with tears, her life’s vigor bleeding
away, the white of her bosom smeared with.
soil that adhered, as she draggled in the mire,
into which he had cast her. Whither was
she tending? She turned her face out to sea
—it lay before her ink black. Red Hall and
its marshes were to her prison; freedom be-
yond its seawall.
She was startled by a sound as of bricks
falling. She listened without curiosity.
The sound recurred again, and was followed
after awhile by a grating noise, and then a
rattle as of iron thrown down. She heard
nothing further for a few minutes, and sank
back into her dull dream, and watching of the
poor mew, that now beat its wings on the roof,
and then slid off and disappeared. Was it
dead now? It did not matter. Mehalal‘.
could not care greatly for a bird. But presr
ently from out of the shadow of the bake
house floated a few white jeathers.
was still wending its way on, with unerring
instinct, toward the rolling sea. Just then
Mehalah heard a thud, as though some heavy
body had fallen, accompanied by a short
Clank of metal. She would have paid it no
further attention had she not been roused by
seeing the madman striding and then jump-
ing, with the chain wound round one arm.
He looked at the moon, his matted hair was
over his face, and Mehalali could not distin-
guish the features. He mu across the yard,
and then leaped the dine and went off at
long bounds, like a kangaroo, over toward
the sea wall,
Mehalah drew back. What should she do!
Should she rouse Elijah and tell him that his
brother had wrenchedpif the grating of his
window and worked his way out, and was
now at large in the glare of the moon on the
marshes, leaping and rejoicing in his free
dom? No, she would not. Let the poor
creature taste of liberty, inhale the fresh,
pure air, caper and race about under no
canopy but that of God’s making. She
would not curtail his time of freedom by an
hour. He would sulfa-3 severely for his eva-
sion on the morrow, when Elijah would call
out his men, and they would hunt the poor
wretch down like a wild beast. She could
see Rebow stand over him with his great dog
whip and strike him without mercy. She
rouse Rebowl She reconsign the maniac to
his dark dung n, with its dank floor and
stifling atmosp e‘ l The gull was forgotten
now; its little strivings overlooked in anxiety
for the mightier strivings of the human suf-
ferer.
Yet all these three were bound together by
a common tie! Each was straining for the
infinite and for escape from thralldom; one
with a broken wing, one with a broken brain,
one with a broken heart. There was the
wounded bird flapping and edging its way
outward to the salt sea. There was the dazed
brain driving the wretched man in mad gam-
bols along the wall to the open water. There
was the bruised soul of the miserable girl
yearning for something she knew not what,
wide, deep, eternal, unlimited, as the all em‘
bracing ocean. In that the bird, the man,
the maid sought freedom, rest, recovery. She
could not go to bed and leave the poor ma-
niac thus wandering unwatched. She would
go out and follow him and see that up harm
came to him.
She took 03 her shoes, shut the window.
Her mother was sleeping soundly. She Yun-
did the door and descended the stairs. They
creaked beneath her steps, but Rebow, who
had slept through the noise made by his
brother in effecting his escape, was not
awakened.
As she passed the bakehouse she lit on the
wounded bird. In a spasm of sympathy she
bent and took it up. It made a frantic effort
to escape, and uttered its wild, harsh screams;
but she folded her hands over the wings and
held the bird to her bosom and went on.
The blood from the broken bone and torn
flesh wet her hand, and dried on it like glue.
She heeded it not, but walked forward. By
the raw moonlight she saw the madman on
the wall. He had thrown down his chain.
He heeded it not now. There had been sufli-
cient intelligence or cunning in his brain to
bid him deaden its clanking when making
his escape from the house.
He sprang into the air and waved his arms;
his wild hair blew about in the wind, it
looked like seaweed tangles. Then he sat
down. Mehalah did not venture on the wall,
but crept along in the marsh. He had got a
stone, and was beating at his chain with it
upon the stone casing of the wall on the sea
face. He worked at it patiently for an hour,
and at last broke one of the links. He waved
the chain above his head with a shout and
flung it behind him into the marsh. He ran
on. Mehalah stole after him. He never
looked back, always forward or upward.
Sometimes he danced and shouted and sang
snatches to the moon when it flared out from
behind a cloud. Once, when at a bend of the
wall, his shadow was cast before him, he
cowered back from it, jabbering and putting
his hands supplicatingly toward it; then he
slipped down the bank, laughed and ran
across the marsh with his shadow behind
him, and thought in his bewildered brain
that he had cunningly eluded and escaped
the figure that stood before him to stop him.
He reached the mill that worked the pump.
He must have remembered it: it was mixed
up somehow with the confused recollections
in his brain, for it did not seem to startle or
frighten him. He scarcely noticed it, but,
uttering a bowl, a wild, triumphant shout,
sprang upon a duck punt hauled up on the
wall. It was Elijah’s punt, left there occa‘
sionally, quite as often as at the landing near
the house, a small, flat bottomed boat, paint-
ed white, with a pair of white mufiled cars.
In a moment, before Mehalah had consid-
ered what to do, or whether she could do
anything, he had run the punt down into the
water and had seated himself in it and taken
the ears and struck out to sea, out toward
the open, toward the unbounded horizon.
._He rowed a little way, not very far, and
then stood up. He could not apparently en-
dure to face the land, the place of long con-
finement. he must look out to sea.
Mehalah stood on the sea wall. The waves
were lapping at her feet. The tide had turn-
ed. It flowed at midnight. She had forgot-
ten the gull she bore, in her alarm for the
man. She opened her arms, and the bird
fluttered down and fell into the water.
The moon was now swimming in a clear
space of sky free of cloud flees. In that
great light the man was distinctly visible,
standing, waving his arms in the white punt,
drifting, not rapidly, but steadily outward.
In that great light went out also, on the same
cold, dark water, the dying bird, that now
stirred not a wing. ’
Mehalah watched motionless, with a yearn-
ing in her heart that she could not under-
stand, her arms extended toward that bound-
less expanse toward which the man and the
bird were being home, and into which they
were fading. He was singin ! Some old,
childish lay of days that were appy, before
the shadow fell.
There stood Glory, .lookin , indistinctly
longing, till her eyes were filfiad with tears.
She looked on through the watery veil, but
saw nothing. When she wi it away she
saw nothing. She watched t l the day brok
but she saw nothing more—From “Mebalah,’
a story of the English Salt Marshes, by Sa-
bine Baring-Gould.
The gun-
' I‘Vhere Chocolate Comes From.
Chocolate is made from the seeds of the
theobroma cocoa tree, which is found only in
tropical climates, and bears a fruit some-
what like a cucumber in shape, inside which
are the brownish seeds or beans, which form
the cocoa beans of commerce. The principal
constituent of these beans is a soft, solid oil
called cocoa butter, and their attractive prin-
ciple is theobromine, analagous to the caffeine
in coffee. There is but very little pure cho
colate in the market, owing to the great
medicinal value of the cocoa butter or oil,
which is expressed in the grinding, and
cheaper, less nutritious oil supplied. One of
the best ways to buy cocoa or chocolate, it is
said, is to purchase what are called “cocoa
nibs,” which are the beans crushed in frag-
ments, but not ground, for the ground choco ,
late is frequently adulterated with roasted
hazel nuts or almonds, ricemeal, oatmeal and
other ingredients.
The best chocolate is prepared by first
burying the fruit until the pulp is decayed
and only the beans are left. The beans are
roasted and the shells removed. The choco
late is then ground between stones, the fric
tion heat of the grinding melting it so that
it is a soft molten mass as it drips from the
stones and is poured into molds. The m'elted
chocolate is pressed in cloth until all the oil
is expelled; the sediment is ground very
slowly to prevent remelting it, and the pow-
der bolted like flour through silken sieves,
and then it is called cocoa, which makes a
lighter, less nourishing, but more easily di-
gested beverage than chocolate—New York
Sun.
Art on the Bowery.
“Say, Billy, tip us do news on dis yer ‘An-
gelus’ of Millet wot all do row’s about.”
“Well, fellers,” said Billy, “do ‘Angelus’ is
9. oil paintin’ by a bloomin’ cove called Millet,
as has_been sold for $110,000, and will be on
exhibish right here on de Bowery, or in Dom-
inick McCaffrey's saloon, on Union square,
afore yer a year older, see? De ‘Angelus’ is a
picture of two ferriners, a feller ’n’ his Nan-
cy, wot’s out in de field diggin’ taters. Dey
get on to do church bells a-ringin’ an’ (icy
cuts de tater diggin’ an’ stands up in a solemn
attertude like dis. See? Dey’s sort 0’ stoop-
ed over like day’s lookin’ for a nickel in do
tater row. Dey’s been diggin’ wid a pitch-
fork instead of a hoe, an’ de fork is stickin’
in de groun’ like as if ter say dat dey had no
use for dat long as de bells was a-ringin’.
See? Dey got a wheelbarrow—one of de ole
timers wid straight hannels an’ sides wot
wouldn’t fetch fifty cents. Dey got a half
bushel basket ’bout half full er taters, but
dey might as well be goose eggs fer all do dif-
ference a feller can see. I tink if day had a
few more taters to show fer de diggin’ it
wouldn’t look so much like a bad year fer
taters. See? De bloke stands wid his hat
in bot’ han’s in front of him an’ de gal stands
close by mighty pious like. See? De cut of
de togs would create a sensash on Broadway.
Snyder’s pants are t‘ree inches too short for -
him, an’ he wears wooden shoes. Nancy
Wears wooden shoes, too, an’ udder togs ac-
cordin'. De ‘Angelns’ is all do go in sportin’
circles, udderwise I wouldn’t give $2 fer de
whole outfit. See?”—New York World.
Saved 3 Hyena’s Life.
A correspondent of The Cleveland Leader
thinks there is but one instance on record of
a man being rewarded for saving the life of
a hyena. Writing from Philadelphia, he
tells how the affair happened, at the “Zoo”
in that city. The carnivora house was filled
with visitors. watching the feeding of the
animals, when the hyenas, which are young
and unusually fierce. began to fight over
their food.
Suddenly one of the brutes began to choke,
and it was found that a big bone with the
meat attached to it had partially slipped
down his throat and he was strangling. If
the animal was to be saved something would
have to be done quickly.
One of the keepers, named Shannon, grasped
a scraper and, without hesitation, opened the
iron door and sprang into the cage. The
hyenas made a dash at him, but he beat them
back, while the head keeper, Byrnes, clubbed
them with a broom handle. Both animals
frothed at the jaws and acted as though they
were rabid.
Watching his opportunity, Keeper Shan-
non finally succeeded in striking the choking
animal on the jaw and loosened the bone, and
it fell out upon the floor of the cage with the
meat still attached.
The plucky keeper got out of the cage
without being injured, and his act of kind-
ness in saving the life of the animal secured
for him the anti-cruelty society’s gold medal.
Hangman's Ropes.
I dropped into an up town stationery store
the other day. It was one of those stores that
outfit banks and county offices throughout
the country, a store where everything from a
steel pen up to a forty-quire blank book is
kept for sale. The house has a dozen travel-
ing salesmen on the road. A clerk in the store
was filling an order just received from one of
the salesmen. Going to the elevator chute in
the rear of the store he yelled to a clerk or
porter on one of the upper floors: “Jimmy,
send me down two hangman’s ropes.” Jimmy
responded, and in a few minutes down he
came with the ropes. “Now, those are dai-
sies,” he said, turning to the Man About Town.
“You wouldn’t have thought that we sold
ropes to hang men, would you? See here,”
and he took one of the ropes from the neat
little paper box in which it was coiled, “it
has the regulation knot already tied in it, so
that all the sheriff has to do is to adjust the
noose to fit the neck of his victim. These
ropes are made in this city out of a superior
quality of hemp, and they are sold for $9 each,
which is a very low price for them, consider-
ing the fact that they are absolutely safe.
Every one we soil has the guarantee of the
manufacturer on the box that it has been test-
ed by dropping an iron weight’L-St. Louis
Repubhc.
A Long Stretch.
About the latter part of June, 1882, John
Collery, a teamster of San Francisco, while
attempting todrive through a barnwith a
low door, had his head pressed down on his
breestinsuchawayas to fracture thesev-
enth cervical vertebra and pull the spinal
cord out two inches The operation of join-
ing the fractured bones (both the body of the
vertebra and the arching lamina; were
found to be broken) without pinching the
spinal cord, where it protruded between the
ragged edges of the fracture, is justly re-
garded as one of the most difficult pieces of
surgery on record. For the first two or three
months the patient was kept flat on his back
and was only partially paralyzed. After
five months he was allowed to walk about,
and in less than ayear was discharged.—
John W. Wright in St. Louis Republic.
Official Phraseology.
It is related of Rowland Hill that at a cer-
tain council held in the postoflice department,
he explained to his subordinates that ofiicial
phraseology was a good thing in its way, but
very often did not describe the actually ex-
isting state of affairs. “For instance, in
writing to you, gentlemen, I am accustomed
to describe myself in official phraseology as
your obedient humble servant, whereas”—
sitting back and glaring savagely through his
1
nothing of the sort.”——San Francisco Argo-
naut.
WARDROBES ON "SPEC."
Dressmakers Who Gamble Sometimes for
the Pay Due Them.
It is said by a New York correspondent of
The Chicago News that dressmakers occasion-
ally finish costumes on pure speculation, and
run the risk of ever being paid at all, the me-
dium of this speculation being some pretty
girl of good social position and empty purse
who has a right to expect that she might
marry well were she properly presented be-
fore the fastidious eye of the eligible bachelor.
There is a story told, for whose truth I’m
not altogether prepared to answer, but which
one hears told very often, about a certain
famous New York beauty who has very little
money and a great deal of physical loveliness,
and who made the mistake of fancying that
English peers cared enough about American
beauty to marry it without fortune. She is
exquisitely pretty, as well as clever and high
bred looking. One of the rich dressmakcrs
thought so, too, and hearing her one day be
wail the fact that for want of clothes she
could not accept an invitation to spend the
season in London, offered to furnish her with
a handsome wardrobe on speculation, provid-
ing that she would pay a certain interest on
the money after she had married her ear] or
duke, as the case might be.
The girl jumped at the offer, for her look-
ing glass had always told her that she only
needed the proper setting to make her a
jewel which a duke might be glad to place
amid the strawberry leaves, and she firmly
believed that a London season with beautiful
clothes was the one thing needful to set her
before the world in a proper light and en-
able her to popularize the fortune she bore in
her face. Well, she got the clothes, and
charming ones they were, for the dress-
maker’s artistic pride was aroused and she
wanted the world to see what she could do
with a good subject.
The London world raved over her. She
sat for famous artists. Her photographs
were in all the shop windows. Her picture
was in all the illustrated papers, and all the
poor guardsmen and impecunious younger
sons lost their heads sufficiently to propose
love in a cottage. But when the dukes and
earls found she had no fortune, and that the
fine clothes did not represent government
bonds or a pork packing establishment, they
came to the conclusion that she was too ex-
pensive a luxury, and at the end of the sea-
son the beauty returned unwedded and with
no means of paying that dreadful dress-
maker’s bill, which seemed a mere bagatelle
to her when she had sailed away to become
an English peeress.
That was two years ago. She is still un-
wedded, that dressmaker’s bill is still unpaid,
and the talk is now that she is about to ac-
cept a wealthy gentleman with a curved nose
and an oriental surname, who will not mind
trifles of a few thousands for clothes when it
means the securing of so beautiful a woman,
whose connection will give him an entree
into the fashionable society where he so longs
for an opportunity to spend the income of
his millions.
Some of those speculations. however, have
turned out much more fortunately, and,
strange to say, one of them was in the case
of a very plain girl who had nothing but her
witty tongue and stylish carriage to recom-
mend ber, and who, with a. setting of good
clothes, managed to marry an excellent
parti. Within one season she had not only
paid her bill, but had purchased dozens of
splendid new frocks, for which she was en-
abled to pay down her husband’s ready
money.
How Stephen Glmrd Made a Man Rich.
Seeing a story about old Stephen Girard
the other day reminded me of an incident
that shows one of his peculiarities. Girard
had a drayman who was a decidedly poor
man. One day the drayman, who was an in-
dustrious, bright fellow, with a good many
months to fill at home, was heard to remark
that he wished he was rich.
“What’s that?” sharply said Girard, who
heard the grumble.
"0,” said the man, “I was only wishing I
was rich."
“Well, why don’t you get rich?” said the
millionaire harshly.
“I don’t know how without money.” re-
turned the drayman.
“You don‘t need money,” said Girard.
“Well, if you will tell me how to get rich
without money I won’t let the grass grow be-
fore trying it,” returned the other.
“There is going to be a ship load of confis-
cated tea sold at auction to-morrow at the
wharf; go down there and buy it in and then
come to me.”
The man laughed. “I have no money to
buy a ship load of tea with,” he said.
“You don‘t need any money, I tell you,”
snapped the old man. “Go down and bid on
the whole cargo and then come to me.”
The next day the drayman went down to
the sale. A large crowd of retailers were
present, and the auctioneer said that those
bidding would have the privilege of taking
one case or the whole ship load, and that the
bidding would be on the pound. He then be-
gan the sale. A retail grocer started the bid-
ding and the drayman raised him. On see-
ing 'this the crowd gazed with no small
amount of surprise. When the case was
knocked down to the drayman the auctioneer
said be supposed the buyer only desired the
one case. “I’ll take the whole ship load,”
coolly returned the successful bidder. The
auctioneer was astonished, but on some one
whispering to him that it was Girard’s man
who was the speaker his manner changed,
and he said he supposed it was all right.
The news soon spread that Girard was buy-
ing tea in large quantities, and the next day
the price rose several cents. “Go and sell
your tea," said Girard to the drayman the
next day. The drayman was shrewd, and he
went out and made contracts with several
brokers to take the stock at a shade below
the market price, thereby making a quick
sale. In a few hours he was worth $50,000.
-St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
ModJoska's Portraits.
Altogether, a curious woman is Modjeska.
You know all about her as an actress, no
doubt, and probably admire her. In social
intercourse she is remarkable for culture
and intellect, and she also possesses that self
complacent estimate of her own abilities
without which, I suppose, no actress could
attain much} success. I met her a few days
ago in the studio of Frank Fowler, an artist,
who had invited a company to see a portrait
which he had painted of her. If aladyin
private life had thus put her real face under
inspection alongside a picture of it, she
would be open to the charge of immodesty;
but Modjeska is accustomed to publicity.
“The work isn’t a likeness at all,” remarked
somebody, gazing at the original and then at
the painting. .
“Zat ees true, see! zare ees noting similar.
Look at us both. We are not efen seesters,
But look at us now.”
She took a place close by the picture,
struck the attitude-in which it represented
her, and, behold, the faces were one in like-
new. She had readily put, her features into
exactly the combination shown on the can-
vas. Subsequently, I saw her give an odd
exhibition of an .album full of her photo«
graphs. There were over twenty radically
tacles around the board—“whereas, I am ; different views of her face,~ ranging from
grave to gay. She made herself like each of
themat win-Providence Prei .
Interested People.
Advertising a patent medicine in the
peculiar way in which the proprietor 0f
Kemp’s Balsam for coughs and colds does
is indeed wonderful. He authorizes all
druggists to give those who call for» it, a
sample bottle free, that they may try it
before purchasing. The large bottles are
50c. and $1. We certainly would advise
a trial. It may save you from consump-
tion.
Why is the north pole like an illicit
whiskey manufactory ?——It is a secret still,
What kiu is the door-mat to the door ?
-A step farther.
00]. Clark, U. S. Anny, writes: For
the last two years, my health has been ex-
cellent; this, I think, is due to my using
Sulphur Bitters, as formerly my health
was miserable, owing to the frequent
changes of climate. etc., so incident to a
soldier’s life.
Why does a sailor know there’s a man
in the moon ?—-He has been to sea.
Why is a cat’s tail like the earth ?—It is
fur to the end.
Those persons who do not need iron,
but who are troubled with nervousness
and dyspepsia, will find in Carter’s Little
Nerve Pills a most desirable article. They
arc‘mostly used in combination with Car-
ter’s Little Liver Pills, and in this way
often exertamost magical effect. Take
just one pill of each kind immediately
after eating and you will be free from
indigestion and dyspepsia. In vials at 25
cents. Sold by all druggists.
Why is a doctor in a potential mood ?—
it’s would, or should be.
What is a waist of time P—The middle
of an hour-glass.
Hay fever sufferers ought to know of its
efficacy. Ely’s Cream Balm was recom-
mended to me as a preventive to hay
fever. Have been using it since the 9th
of August and have found it a Specific for
that much dreaded disease. For ten
yearsI have been a great sufferer from
August 9th until frost, and have tried
many alleged remedies, but Ely’s Cream
Balm is the only preventive I have ever
found—F. B. Ainswortb, Publisher, In-
dianapolis, Ind.
What sticketh closer than a brother ?—
A postage stamp, by gum. ]
Why is a doctor never seasick ?-—He is
used to see sickness.
The father of all diseases is impure
blood, when loaded with foul humor.
How important then that the blood should
be pure, rich, and strong, without which
there can be no health. To purify the
blood Sulphur Bitters is comparably the
best medicine that it is possible to obtain.
——['l‘he Editor. ‘
Why is a tin can tied to a dog’s tail like
death ?—-It’s bound to occur.
Why does an old maid wear mittens ?—
To keep off the chaps.
Their gentle action and good effect on
the system really make them a perfect
little pill. They please those who use
them. Carter’s Little Liver Pills may well
be termed “Perfection.”
What is the board of education ?—The
schoolmaster’s shingle.
Always slipping in and out—the ferry
boats.
Notes for travelers—bank notes are the
best.
3
~——l
\ EW HAVEN, CONN.
The Faricon Tar SOUP makes a Fine Lather and
leaves the Skin soft. and agreeable: ils cleansing
qualities are first-rinks. 1 like it.
1!. M. SilhliM \N. Engravu‘, 792 (‘llapcl St.
New ilAvEN, Coxx.
Gentlemen:—llaving used your Enricon ’l‘ar
Soap myfelf, and finding: it a thoroughly good ar-
ticle for cieunsmg.refreshing and healing the skin
1 cheerfully recommend it profe<sionnlly.
Du. JAMES E. STETSON.
5’0‘
gQLL ...
in1~.gl':BArH' :& NU“
For Complexlon. Shavlng, Shampoolns,
Ghappecl Hands. Rough Skin.
Physicians recommend it.
For sale by Druggisto or sent on receipt ofprloe.
1-4 den. in Handsome Toilet Box by mail, 60 etc.
FEOIITER REMEDY 00.. New Haven. Conn.
RF. 1‘. has wnEair on heads bald for 20 years.
Send for history 81116-621116 Testimonials.
. NEW HAW-2x, Cons,
Have tried your Fax-icon 'l‘ur Null) and Without
hesitation can say I like it. Hau- nlromly ordered
its use in three cases of numbness of the skin,
where if has seried a most cx~m19m purposes.
Shall try in eczema at my first “llpm'llllllly.
L. M. Ultriiulfll, M l‘.
POST OFFICE DEPARTMENTJ
’ . Waslm at n. l). U 9'
Gen”emen:——I thin-.- your Fan-icon ‘I‘nr Hosp the
finest I ever came acro<s. GEORGE W. WHII‘E
For sale at ll. ll. Hale’s Drug Store
EVER MADE.
Itwlll drive the Humor from your
system, and make your skin
clean and smooth. ose
Pim has and Blotches
h mar your beauty
time, if you are
ise and use
If
no
01 age, use 8
They never fail to cure.
P. Ordwa a Co.
- tam s to A.
Send 3 2-cent s 9 work pu lishedll
Boston,Mass.. for best medical
BUXToN & summon,
EXPRESSMEN,
Prompt attention given to orders It!
LIGHT TR UCKING-
To any part of the Tom.
:3
ANYSONEW
CAN DYE '3
A Dress, or a Boat,
Ribbons, Feathers, FOB
Yams, Rags, etc. TEN cssrrs
and in many other ways SAVE Money, and make
things look like NEW, by using DIAMOND
DYES. The work is easy, simple, quick; the
colors the BEST and FASTEST known.
DIAMOND DYES and take no other.
For Gilding or Bronzing Fancy Articles USE
DIAMOND PAINTS.
Gold, Silver, Bronze, Copper. Only 10 Cents.
Baby Portraits.
A Portfblio of beautiful baby ic-
"- tures from life, printed on ne
~ plate paper by patent hoto
process, sent free to Not er of
any Bab born within a year.
, Every other wants these
ictures; send at once. Give
aby’s name and age.
WELLS, RICHARDSON I. 00.,
BURLINGTON. VTa
Any Color
Ask for -
Orders left at S. K. Stanley’s or Post Office. 31
Cleanse
the System
With that most reliable
medlelnc—Palne‘s Celery
Compound. ltpurificsthe
blood, cures Constipxtlon.
nu'iregtflnfcs the lii'ernml
IT
i” g lumwyszfl. «usually-2e:th-
“i .i '5 ing 2.x :5 stem of all LLSLO
. ~->—-=:-% and Crud malicrs.
M's ' 4 (alfr-
s“_- ’01; r 5:1,
I flair-5U t.»
’l . If“; .g , ,
Celery wetnpound
ccmblnr's true nz‘n'c foul". Is in strengthng
qualities, reviving the (magic-g ..nd spirts.
“I have been troubled f‘r some yenr‘ n ith a
compllcatlon of dlmcultles. A :ter try) H: W)-
rlous remedies, and not finding relief ; l'rlf‘rl
Palne’s Celery Compound. Before taking: one
full bottle the long troublesome symptoms be-
an to subside, and I can truly say now, that I
lllke a new man. Digestion has improved.
and I have gained ten pounds in weight since I
have commenced taking the Compound.”
Honssrus Srsmss, Felchvllle, Vt.
$1.00. Six for $5.00. At Druggists.
Wants, Ricmnnsox a Ca, Burlington, Vt.
BRIGGS’
HE ADACHE-:-TBOCHES
———FOR
SICK HEADACHE,
——IN ITS——
Nervous, - Billions or Congestive Forms.
This Remedy is the Prescription of one of the leading Physicians of Paris
France,and was used by him with unparalleled success for over thirty years,
and was first given to the Public as a Proprietary Medicine in 1878, and
since that time it has found its way into almost every country on the face
of the Globe, and become a favorite remedy withzthousands of the leading
physicians. 3; Medical societies have discussed its marvelous success at their
annual conventions, and after their oflicial chemist {have analyzed it and
found that it contained no opiates, bromides, or other harmful ingredients,
quietly placed it among their standard remedies.
..—._-
TESTIMONIAL-
L. R. BROWN, M. D., )
23' West Jersey St.. r
ELIZABETH, N. J ., June 28th, 1889. )
This is to certify that I have used for some months with much satisfaction, the combi-
nation of remedies, for Headache, known as Briggs’ Headache Troches.
The remedy cures
mcre headaches, especially such as effect Nervous :Women than anything I am acquainted
with, and if this certificate will be the means of bringing it to the favorable attention of
sufferers from that trouble, I shall feel that I have done them a servxce.
L. R. BROWN, M. D.
PRICE. 25 CENTS.
gs SOLD BY H. R. HALE. NORWALK. CONN.
BRIGGS’ mama-Inn company;
ELIZABETH, N. J. ‘
Norwalk Chronicler