READY TO omen. 01 Lady's Opinion‘on d stion of Interest. "as the-an- so when you and or”. uy, health \m‘ “use a:- 9AM BORWs I: ft! in mint! '- "Hillel. ‘ “-"l “imminent! @FFEE, WWW imminent “ l"'”""‘”'“ll'"""l“Illllatllll Itltlnllul lb. II | "l I... ”III I , ’ IllllllIhIiid lileeilu ’"iillllil'l'i'n': ttliIII ’ ' f ”I Ll, IIIIIIII II I II'II..;IIIIIIH ”A ”Hamill!"illllllljhlll|llllj§fi3 .j.Ill.Elli.hiII"Illnnuilllllulmll I I I , 3- . : ,‘ . r This illustration represents a very attractive pocket pin cushion, which we Will send free to any one. Address CHASE 6t SANBORN, BOSTON. New York Announcement. Homer’s Furniture. Reasons why you should buy it in preference to any other. (1). Because this firm have Iong en- joyed the reputatiou of keeping only the best Furniture that can be pro- duced, both in medium and finest grades ; (2). Because their assortments are unequalled; (3). Because their prices are the lowest at which goods of standard quality can be sold. Novelties toe the Holidays. These comprise thousands of articles. from the inexpensive Rocker. Easy Chair or Writ- ing Desk. to the most exquisite Dressing Table or Cabinet. Those desirous of select- ing useful. handsome and over-welcome Holiday Gifts. will find ample choice in our vast stock. and at all prices. plainly marked. R. J. Homer & 00., _ I furniture Makers and Importers, 61-65 W. 23d St, New York. ’ (Adjoining Eden Mnsee.) Horner&Co.’s establishment is one of the sights of New York.—Newspapcr Comment. lit}. (up PAN Bf “5.91m Till”; ..................... ......... . u uuulllllllllllin!” lllllllllil'lii""ifwill!ll ‘ l “m" llll "w \l ..... ‘" '.;.r tl.‘ .~ . Special Holiday Ofi‘er! An elegant new 7 1-3 octave, 3-strinsed Waters Upright Piano, with full rich tone and all improvements and including a handsome stool and cover, $225. cash, or $250 on instalments, only 320 down and - $7.00 Monthly until paid. Pianos delivered free Within 25 miles of New York or boXed and shipped freight paid to distant points. Don’t fail to ex- amine the famous Waters Pianos before buying elsewhere. HOIiACE WATERS & co. 1 34 Fifth Ave., near 18th St. NE W YORK. The Nowell lire Insulaueelll files now Completedits l 320. SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS YEAR-f And has not. outstanding a dollar of unpai losses or claims for losses. No sound cont pant] insm'esfor less J. Beavan, Pres: G_. B. Sr. Jon‘s. GEO. B. COWLEB. Sec’v. ~. 'r Tress . —\ ETER L. _GUIGUE,I’lonst and Nursery man Uuion Avenue. north of Union Cemtery Norwalk, Conn. Dealer in Green House Hot House and Bedding and Vege- table Plants. .FI'UIt and Ornamental Trees. Shubbery. Vines, Cut Flowers. always on hand. and all sorts of desrgns in flowers ar- ranged to order. . , Grading and refilling cemeterylots‘ ended to. "titties. Hurlbutt, Ateuey and Ceunsellet at Law ROOM 4 UP. STAIRS Real Estate For Sale! Pursuant to an order of the Court of Pro- bate for the District of Norwalk. the subscri- ber offers for sale the dwelling house and lot comprising about one acre of land,situated on the westerly side of Camp street, in the City of Norwalk, lately owned by Rachael Jones now deceased, and formerly of Charles G Dean. For particulars inquire of GEORGE. W. RAYMOND. Administrator. Dated at Norwalk. December 6th. 1894. Cess Pools and Closets. Cleaned ’in a reasonable and expeditious manner. Address "u. H. 11..” Norwalk P. O. 46 3m . 1 Will soon be here and you wrl want your horses corked. Brinithem m at once and SNOW avoidt crush. JNO.T.Lchr'r Horse shoer cross street. “. . \ AN OLD EOMANCE. “No youthful romance wormed over for middle age, I thank you,” said Mrs. Nellie Hunt with decision, to her niece, Edith Daly. ' They were gathering chrysanthemums at Mapleton, Mrs Hunt’s pleasant home- steadnvhere her niece from the West was visiting her. “Why, auntie, I thought youthful ro- mances were the best kind,” said the young girl shyly. (She had one on hand herself). “Yes, dearie, so they are at your age,” laying a bright blossom ~againt the girl’s flushed face. “You remember I said ‘warmed over.’ ” I “\Vell, auntie, I don’t see any objection to having it warmed over if it Were all it should have been at first,” Edith urged. “I’m sure mamma thinks as I do—that Major,Townley is a fine man and would make;you a splendid husband.” "Yes, dear, that is undoubted—she told me so herself. I think it is a conspiracy among my friends,” said the elder lady, playfully. “I don’t want to be inquisitive. auntie, but oh, I would so like to know what sep- arated you so long ago,” said she sudden- ly. , Mrs. IIunt started a little, and then smiled. “I’m afraid it would only spoil the ro- mance for you,” she replied, “the circum- stances were so prosaic. Yet it is the lit- tle things of life that go to make up the whole. But I will tell you what you wish to know.” “Major .Townley and I were school- mates when we were young, and I cannot remember the time when we were not at— tached to each other. \Ve graduated at the same time'at the town academy where we got a little tincture of Latin. “It is said that a little learning is a dangerous thing. Certainly it was in our case. After we left school we kept up our studies together. One evening we got into a discussion about a certain line of Virgil. We could not agree about the translation, and were unwise enough to argue the matter too long and too warm- ly. Neither would admit being in the wrong. “The result was that unkind words were spoken, and our engagement was broken off. You must remember that we were both young—I only eighteen and he not yet twenty-one.” “Which, was in the right?” asked Edith. “I don't know, dear. I never even look- ed the matter up. I think we were sorry, but we would not acknowledge it. Mrs. Hunt had been a widow for some years, and the gentleman in question had lost his wife a. couple of years before, so that mutual friends, knowing of their former romance, had been, perhaps, a lit- tle too ofiicious in their efforts to effect a reconciliation. Three months later, one dreary Decem‘ her day, there was a storm very nearly akin to a blizzard raging. The air was laden with sleet that seemed armed with needles, and carried by the gale with a. force and rapidity that threatened to im- pede locomotion. TravelZwas suspended and the telegraph wires were down. , On a snow-bound train in Indiana we find our friend Mrs. Hunt, who had been summoned by telegram to the bedside of her sick sister, and had run right into the teeth of the approaching storm. Six hours ago the huge iron horse had snowbanks might have been walls of ad- amant separating the belated travellers from their homes. Apprehension was fol- lowed by anxiety as night settled down in the wierd, white scene. A squad of laborers, brought into strong relief against the White back- ground by the headlight of the engine, worked vigorously in the biting blast. The blockade had occurred near a. village and through the storm the glimmering of friendly lights told of rural peace and plenty, cheering if unattainable. But as the hours wore away even those disappeared and left the night a prey to snow and cold and sleet and howling Winds. Within the car there was a. grow- ing sense _'0f cold physically and forbod- ing thought mentally. The night wore away, as night will, however uncomfortable, and as old Sol condescended to favor the travellers with his smile, answering smiles seemed less difficult. Soon thereloomed into view an . ox team with a snow plough, in various directions spades were plied with vigor, and anon there arrived on the train an aroma of hot coffee, very tempting to be nighted beings .many , miles from the home dining room. - A man of about fifty years of age, with dark hair and mustache and a singularly winning smile, was followed by a stout mulatto boy, with huge pall and loaded basket,, dispensing coffee and sand‘ wiches. As the gentleman approached the little woman in widow’s weeds he gave a little start, which, however, was unobserved" 'by her. As he offered the profferred refreshment she said. impulsively: “This restores my faith in Western hospitality.” “Had'you lost it, madame?” he asked, and without pausing for a reply, passed on. It was Mrs. Hunt’s turn to start. That voicc! Where had she heard it be- fore? Directly memory took her back a score of years. A New England village came to view. A cold, white moonlit evening, and she looking from a window of a rambling old farmhouse, watching a tall, slender young man as he hurried down the country road. She watched him out of sight, thinking he might look back: he did not, and she had never spoken to him again——for he had left the village and gone West—until now; he had come back to her again out of the white drifts which had blocked her way and brought him to her. She was called back from her reverie by the low spoken word, “Nellie!” A quick flush suffused her face as she said: “You know me then?” “When I first saw you,” he replied. They talked and laughed over the dear old days; with saddened voices they spoke of griefs which had come to each of them in the long years of separation; at. soften- ed light came into their faces and the misunderstanding of the past faded out naturally, without need of explana- tion. . Toward night. just before the train, re inforced with another engine, pulled out, he held out his hand at parting, saying, with a smile: “But that line in Virgil—who was right, Nellie?” She laughed, and then sighed a little,‘ saying: “We ware both wrong.” “But we are both right now, are we not?” he asked. For answer she put her hand in Inb.—_ Pittsburg Telegram. OUTWITTED. Farmer Kendrick had brought in an armful of snow-covered logs from the woodpile at the north end of the house, throwing them down on the stone hearth with a noise like a small earthquake, when Carrie Brown started up. “Five o’clock! Oh, I had no idea it was so late. 'I must be going home.” “Allow me to accompany you, Miss Brown.” “You’ll let me see you home, Carrie?” Captain Logan and Fred Jones both spoke at once, but Carrie shook her head. ~ “I prefer to walk home alone,” She said, gayly. “About the sleighing party to-morrow night?” asked Fred, anxiously. “I—I have romised Capt. Logan,” said the village beauty, a rosy tint squusing . her cheek. “But, Carrie, I thought it was settled between you and me two weeks ago!” exclaimed Fred with a frown. “Was it? I am sure I had forgotten it.” She was very pretty, this brightneyed New England damsel. Fred Jones had loved her even since they were children together, and Capt. Logan, who had come down to spend the Christmas holidays with his cousins, the Kendricks, had be« come so fond of those bright blue eyes and golden hair that he had prolonged his visit into January. “’Pon my word, she’s a regular beauty,” said the captain, staring through the tiny window panes at the retreating figure of Miss Brown. “A beauty,” went on the captain, “and it’s a thousand pities she should be wasted on any of the country bumpkins who vegetate among these wildernesses. Sam you young villain,are those boots of mine blacked yet?” “No, they ain’t,” said Sam, crossly. “Well, what’s the reason?” “’Cause I ain’t had time.” “See that you find time then, quickly, too,” said the captain. And Sam glow- ered after him as he went gaily up the stairs. “Just wish I had the firin’ of him out,” said the boy, gloomily. “It’s ‘Sam, do this,’ and ‘Sam, do that,’ and ‘Sam, where’s the warm water?’ and ‘Sam, What in the deuce do you mean by letting my fire go out?’ and not a cent has he guv me yet—no, nor so much as a pleasant word. I wonder if he means to stay here always?” “You and'I are about equal in our love for him, Sam,” said Fred Jones, laugh— ing. “I heered him talkin’ with Miss Carrie about goin’ sleigh ridin’ to—morrow night,” said Sam. shrewdly. “I’d jes’ like to put ‘Kicking Tom’ in the shafts; I would if it weren’t for Miss Carrie. He don’t know nothin’ about horses, that there militia cap’n don’t.” And Sam chuckled. ”I say, Mr. Jones, why don’t you get beforehand with him? Miss Carrie don’t really care for him; she’s only dazzled- like.” The night came—a perfect night for sleighing expeditions and rustic love- making, the roads hard and well packed and a glorious moon shining down white- ly, as if a rain of silver were deluging the whole world. “Couldn’t be better weather,” said the captain. “Sam, where are the sleigh- bells?” “Dunno,” said Sam. “I guess they’re out in the barn cham- ber,” the farmer said. “You better go with him, captain, if you expect to find ’em—our Sam’s dreadful thick-headed when he chooses to be.” “Come along, my fine fellow,” said the captain, collating Sam and marching him off in the direction of the old red barn. “W'e don’t need any lantern in this moon- light that is one comfort.” “Where are the stairs?” demanded the captain, as they entered the barn. “Ain’t none,” said Sam. “It’s a lad- der.” “Up with you, then,” said Logan, but Sam shrunk back. “I wouldn’t, not for $50,” said Sam. “Old John Kendrick hanged himself from the middle beam fourteen years ago, and folks say he stands up there with a rope around his,neck every moonlight night.” “Stuff and nonsense!” cried the captain in accents of contempt. “You cowardly lout, stay where you are, then, and I’ll go myself.” He sprang lightly up the rounds of the ladder, and disappeared through the trap door. “Vthre is it?” he called. “The ghost? Right under the middle beam by the windy was the place where H “Blockhead! I meant the string of bells.” “Look for ’em yourself,” said Sam sulk- ily. “I don’t know where they be, and what’s more, 1 don’t care.” “I’ll settle with you, my fine fellow, when I come down,” said the captain, threateningly, as he groped about in the dim light. “Don’t hurry yourself, cap’n,” rejoined Sam, in a jcering tone. As the captain plunged into a dark cor- nor, there was a jingle, and the String of bells, suspended from a 'nail hit him dir- ectly 'on the neck, so like the grasp of cold fingers that he could but start. “Oh,” said the captain, nervously. “Here they are. Catch ’em, Sam! Hallo! \Vhere’s the trap door?” And it took the worthy captain fully sixty seconds more to realize that the trap door was closed and fastened on the lower side. He rushed to the window and threw it up only to see Sam speeding up the hill. “I-IaLlo-o-al!” yelled Gapt. “Come back, you scoundrell” Sam turned around and executed that peculiar gyrutions of the fingers in con- nection with the nasal organ which is supposed to express the extremity of scorn. “You’ll find the ladder on the barn floor, cap’n,” booted the young rebel, “an don’t be afraid of the ghost; it‘s very harmlesss if you let it alone.” .“But, Sam—Sam, come back! beat Mrs. Brown’s at 7:30!” “Don’t worry!” bawled Sam,“Miss Car- rie won’t wait long before Mr. Fred ’ll be on hand.” The captain danced up and down on the floor in an ecstacy of rage, as Sam disappeared over the crest of the hill. He knew very well if he possessed the lungs of Boreas he could make no one hear. “\Vhat is to be done?” he asked him- self. An echo, if echo has any common sense, would have answered: “Just nothing at all!” Sam had outwitted him. And pretty Carrie and Fred Jones, with his red cut- ter and a great chestnut horse! The cap- tain was wild at the thought; surely he was vanquished. “- Logan, I’m to .1 v. “I Won’t wait another moment for him,” said Carrie Brown, coloring up, with tears in her blue eyes. “Go on, girls, I shall spend the evening at home.” "There’s plenty of room for you in our SIGigh. Carrie,” coaxed her brother. “Bessie Andrews will be glad to have you along.” 5 . “No, she won’t either, pouted Carrie. “As if I would spoil all ;her fun! No; if I can’t have an escort of my own, I’ll stay at home and I will never speak to Capt. Logan again.” Charlie Brown was on the point of arguing the matter with his sister when the door opened and in walked Fred Jones. “Not gone yet, Carrie?” captain?” “I don’t know,” said Carrie tartly, “and I don’t care. Am I Captain Logan’s keeper?” “\Vill you go with me?” “Yes, I will’” said Carrie, her eyes lighting and shy smiles dimpling her face. “Of course,” said Fred, I can’t expect to make myself as agreeable as the city captain, b11t——” “The captain,the captain!” cried Carrie 3. little irritably. :I’m sick of the sound of his name. I never want to see him again. What ”a nice new cutter this is, and how easy the wolf robes are!” “Carrie,” whispered Fred, as he touch‘ ed up the horse and felt her nestling close to him, “is it for alwayt?” “Yes, always,” she answered. * -l(- -X- -‘/.- it * \Vhere is the “Jerusalem!” said Farmer Kendrick. It was past ten o’clock at night, and the old gentleman had come out as usual before retiring to rest, to see that the dumb members of his family were all straight and comfortable. “I do believe that’s old John Kendrick’s ghost come to life again, poundin’ like all possessed on the barn chamber floor!” “It’s m-me! It’s m-mei” bawled the captain. “Unfasten the trap door and let me out.” Slowly the farmrr lifted the ladder to its place. With rheumatic awkward- ness he climbed the creaking rounds and undid the hook from its hasp. “How in all creation came you here?” he demanded. "\Vhy I thought you were ‘ out a—sleigh-riding with the galls.” “It was all the‘doing of that villian, Sam!” gasped the infuriated captain, his teeth chattering with mingled rage and cold. “I won’t stand this sort of thing. I’ll leave this place tomorrow.” “As you please,” said the farmer, to whom the prospect of losing his guest was not unpleasant. “I’m dreadful sor- ry this should have happened, though I’ll talk seriously to Sam.” “So will I,” gnashed the captain. “I’ll break every bone in his body.” .wsn ELY - NOI‘tWALK - GAZETTE But Sam had taken particular care to- go over to his grandmother’s six miles across the snow fields, to spend the night, and the only person the captain saw was old Mrs. Kendrick sitting by the kitchen fire. “You’ve lost your chance, captain,” she said good humoredly. “Dorcas Smith has just gone by on her way home from the sleighing party, and she says Fred Jones brought Carrie home in his new cutter, and they’re engaged.” ‘ The captain left the next day, and Mrs. Jones has never seen him since. And when the affair came ofif Sam got a piece of wedding cake big enough to give him dyspepsia for a week.-—Boston News. Costly Interference. A man got on a Michigan Central train just as a woman was getting off. The result was a collision and bad blood on both sides. . “Look where you are going!” snapped the woman, “you ought to go out with a guardian.” . “Oh, you think you are smart,” retorted the man, and then the train pulled out, leaving the man on the steps of his car glaring after the woman, who was hurry- ing off in the distance. “Looks mighty suspicious,” he said to himself. He went into the day car, and found only one seat not fully occupied, and that had an infant asleep in it. The man looked at the sleeping child, and then gazed around the car with the look of one who was searching for some one he did not find. Then he darted to the door, seized a brakeman, and dragged him into the car and to the seat occupied by the sleeping infant. “Where is the mother of that child?” he demanded in a suppressed voice. “I’m sure I don’t know,” said the brakeman. “She doesn’t seem to be here.” “I know,” pursued the new passenger, “she got off the train when I came on. She has deserted her child—that’s what she has done.” . “Looks like it,” said the brakeman. “I’ll call the conductor,” and he did. The conductor knew just what to do. He had seen such cases before, and he left the baby at the first station they stopped at, with orders to forward it to Detroit to the police, with a description of the ab- sconding mother. Then the man who wanted a seat got one, and gloated over the fact that he had outwitted a termagant of a woman. After a while a woman who had slept long and soundly in a seat at the further end of the car, arose and looked about her as if listening for something. Then she walked to the seat occupied by the new passenger. “Where‘s my baby?” There was a deathless silence, then a voice that grew ten feet higher with every word it uttered, repeated the query: “What have you done with my baby?” It took the conductor, the brakeman, and the rest of the passengers to hold the woman While the man tried to explain the facts in the case, and 'after he had settled the item of telegraphing, cost of transportation for the baby, damages to the mother’s feelings, and other expenses, 'he was permitted to go on his way unmo- lested. And he never again will try to get even with a woman—Detroit Free Press. A Rich Man’s Best. Apropros the opening of the Field Me- morial in the Chicago Art Museum, which Tiffany fitted up at acust of $20,000 to contain $500,000 worth of pictures, a New York than recalled the personality of the late Henry Field. The year before his‘death he was travelling in Europe. “I have spent my whole life making money,” he said, “and now I am going to rest and enjoy it. I please, and buy what I please, and rest.” ‘ He had waited a little too long for his holiday. He is resting. His widow has married Mr. Thomas Nelson Page, the author. And the pictures Mr. Field en- joyed buying are tob given to Chic- ago. I am going where ' l " There Are Bavs ‘ , < When You Can’t t! " Lay Una Gen But they are few and far between if you are up-to-cate enough to know that good durable shoes, such as we sell are cheap- er in the long run, than the trashy kinds This week we are offering great bargains and it will pay you to dr0p in and? look at some of them. Trolley cars pass the door. THEODORE H. OLSEN The Leading Shoe Dealer, 8! Washington Street, 80. Norwalk. BEST FLOUR Mien A fififi FLOUR has stood the test, and been at the \— head for the last twenty years. It will make more Bread and Better Bread than any other Flour made. Be sure and get the JONES SUPERLA- TIVE FLOUR. All grocers have it. lltuperlelive Fleur. 41—— WHOLESALE AGENTS: THE HOLMES, KELLER & SELLECK CO. cer of the Stomach. Ms. A. L. LEWIS, of Springfield Mass., says— A ieadin physician told me that I had a cancer in the stomach. I sufiered terribly, sould eat no ng but light broth which would stay on my stomach only a short time; was very bilious and nervous, and thought that I must die. One day when my_doctor called he told me that he could do no more for me; he said he had no confidence in pro- prietary medicines, but that it would do no harm to try CLOVER BITTERS, Phat he had examined the formula, that it was purely vegetable and could be. no better. I sent to my druggist for a bottle and used it. To m surprise, it gave me relief. Dur- ‘ ing the ast nine months I have used six bottles, an to-day I am a. well man, and am thankful} to say that CLOVER BITTERS has cured me; and I do highly recommend ‘1 for any stomach trouble. Full Pint Bottle, 81.00; 6 bottles, CLOVER BITTERS $5.00. Sold by all dealers. \ GLOVERMEDICINE 00.. Sole Propr’s. Augusta. Me. Perry Davie’ PAIN KILLER. It takes out the fire, reduces the inflam- mation, and prevents blistering. It is the quickest and most efi'ectual remedy for pain that is known. Keep it by you. . . ' . shareware»- vr‘Wmeam'W - w The New Yer Wee ly Tiltue AND KLY GAZ TTE « One Year, ”ct/ME 00LLJR. Address all orders to the GAZETTE
Norwalk Chronicler