The Yamhill County reporter. (McMinnville, Or.) 1886-1904, October 19, 1894, Image 4

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Heals
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S.S.S.
Running
Cures
s.
The Whippoorwill’s Call.
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By AUGU8TA LARNED.
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Sores.
the Serpent’s
^Copyright, 1394, by American Press Associa- I
tion.J
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Sting.
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CONTAGIOUS Jn »flits »tage«completely,/
BLOOD POISON st inate sores and illcers m '
yield to its helling powers u
lit removes tbe [>oison and builds up the system ,ji
A valuab^ trcause oa tbe diaeaee and m treatment!//
lauded tree
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I
SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., Atlanta, Ga. ? i
0. R. & N. CO
E. McNEILL, Receiver.
TO
THE
GIVES THE CHOICE OF
TWO TRANSCONTINENTAL
ROUTES
VIA
VI*
DENVER
OMAHA
SPOKANE
Minneapolis
ANO
ANO
ST. PAUL KANSAS CY
LOW RATES TO ALL
EASTERN CITIES.
OCEAN STEAMERS
Leave Portland Every B Days
• • FOR • •
SAN + FRANCISCO
For full details oall on cfr address
W.(H HIRI.BtRT,
Gen. Pass. Agt.
PORTLAND, OU.
EAST AND SOUTH
VIA
The Shasta Route
OF THE
Express Trains Leave Portland Dally
LËAVE
’ ' ARRIVE
Portland........... 6:1 P M I San Francisco.. 10:4 A M
Sun Francisco. 7 00 P M I Portland.............8:20 A M
Above trains stop at all stations from Portland to
Albany inclusive. Aiso Taugeut, Shedds, Hal­
sey. Harrisburg, Junction City, Irving, Eugene
and all stations from Roseburg to Ashland inelu-
dve.
Koteburf nail Daily.
LEAVE:
ARRIVE:
Portland.......... 8:80 AM I Roseburg............... 0PM
Roseburg......... 7:00 AM | Portland......... 4.30 PM
DINING CARS ON OGDEN ROUTE.
PULL.MKN *
BUFFET;
SLEEPERS
ANO
SECOND CLASS SLEEPING CARS,
Attached to all Through Trains.
;West Side Division.
BETWEEN
PORTLAND
AND CORVALLIS
Mail Train Daily, (Except Sunday.)
fko A if I tv
10:15 A M I Lv
12:15 P M I Ar
Portland
McMinnville
Corvallis
Ar I 5Ì5 P M
Lv 3:01 P M
Lv 1:00 P M
At Albany and Corvallis connect with
trains of Oregon Pacific Kailroad,
Express Train Daily, (Except Sunday-)
m O m Lv
7:15 P M Lv
7:25 P M Ar
Portland
8t. Joseph
McMinnville
Ar] 8:25 A M
Lv 1 5 54 A M
Lv 1 5 5J A M
Through Tickets to all points in Eastern
States. Canada and Europe can be obtained at
lowest rates from G. A. Wilcox. Agent, McMinn- I
Ville.
E. P. ROGERS,
Asst. G. F. 4P A.. Portland, Or.
R KOEHLER, Manager
LOCAL DIRECTORY.
CHURCHES
B aptist —Se.-vices Sunday 11 a. m. and
7:30 p. m ; Sunday school 9:60 a m.; the
young people's sooiet.v 6:15 p m
Prayer
meeting Thursday 7:30 p. m. Covenant
meeting first Sat 'each month 2:00 p, m.
M ethodist E piscopal —Services every
Sabbath 11:00 a. m. and 7:30 p. m. Snnday
school 9:30 a m. Prayer meeting 7:00 p
m. Thursday.
S E. M bxinseb , Pastor.
C cnb . P resbyterian —Services every Sab- j
bath 11:00 a m and 7:30 p. m. Sunday :
school 9:30 a. m, Y. P. C. E.. Sunday 6:30
p. m. Prayer meeting Thursday, 7:30 p. m. |
E E. T hompson , Pastor.
C hristian —Services every Sabbath 11:00
a. m and 7:30 p. m. Sunday school.10
a. m. Young people’s meeting at 6:30 p. in.
H. A. D enton , Pastor.
S t . J ames C atholic —First st., between
G and H. Sunday school 2:30 p. m. Ves­
pers 7:30. Services once a month.
W. R. H ogan , Pastor.
SECRET ORDERS.
K nowles C hapter N o , 12, O. E. S.—Meets a
Maaonlc hall tbe iiret and third Monday evening
in each month. Visiting members cordially in-
vited.
MRS. O. O. HODSON, Sec.
MRS. H. L. HEATH, W. M.
CrsTER P ost N o . »—Meets the second and fourth
Saturday of each month in Union hall at 7:30
p. m. on second Saturday and at 10:30 a. m. on
4th Saturday. All members of the order are
cordially invited to attend our meetings.
B, F. C lubine , Commander.
J. A. P eckham . Adjt.
W. C T. U.—Meets on every Fri­
day, in Wright’s hall at 3 o’clock p m.
L. T. L. at 3 p. m.
M rs . A. J. W hitmore , Pres
C lara G. E sson . Sec’y.
1
I
I
|
“I like to see you look like that, El­
sie, fori wouldn’t give a snap of my
finger for a girl who hasn't a little spice
of the devil in her. I intend to make
you believe in me and trust me. Now
I want you to do me a service, an easy
little thing that will not take 10 min­
utes of your time. I want you to go and
tell those old women that I have en­
gaged a pleasant room for them in the j
Old Ladies’ heme at Littlefield, a most
comfortable place, where they will be ,
far jollier than they can be out here,
where I dare say they are dull enough
at times. You can arrange it all with- ’
out a scene. I have a constitutional dis- :
like to scenes, and I want them to know |
how generous my intentions really are. ” I
Elsie drew herself v.m and a look of
scorn and contempt came into her mo- I
bile face. Her eyes flashed fire. She
clinched her little hand until the nails i
hurt her palm. “Go and do your cruel
work yourself, ’’ she cried desperately. ;
“You are a perfectly heartless aed
cold blooded man to ask me to stab my
old friends and give them their death­
blow. I hate and detest you, and I will
never speak to yon again if I can help
it. ” The hot tears nearly blinded her.
She turned on her heel and walked
slowly out of the barn.
An angry red spot burned on Hap-
good’s cheek. He gnawed his nether lip
with suppressed rage and vowed he
would get the whip hand of the proud
little beggar who had defied him and
refused to do his bidding. Elsie walked
away to the house with her head up and
defiant. She left the kitchen work un­
done and went to her owd room, where
she sat gazing from the window up the
high pasture toward the woods where
Paul was in hiding. In the hollow of
the great oak tree at the top'cf the lane
she hail hidden a store of provisions for
his use. An awful silence brooded over
the house, as if some one lay dying. She
beut her ear to listen and heard Arthur
Hapgood go up into the attic and prowl
about among Uncle Si’s old dusty trunks.
After a time he descended to the kitch­
en. She heard his footsteps and the
opening and shutting of doors. Then
she knew by instinct he had gone to the
parlor, where the old ladies sat at their
morning game of cribbage, all uncon­
scious in the sunshine. She felt op­
pressed and could hardly breathe as she
stole out to the landing and hung over
the banister, while a murmur of voices
went on in tho parlor. It seemed an
eternity before Arthur Hapgood came
out and closed the door with a slam.
Elsie crept down the stairs and paused
in the halt There was a sound of sob­
bing and of dull, low moaning, as of a
child that has lost its way and is crying
itself to sleep. She hesitated a moment,
listening with her ear to the crack,
then softly pushed open the door.
The two old women, in their haste to
retreat to their last earthly stronghold,
had huddled themselves in bed with
their clothes on. Miss Hetty had gone
into complete eclipso under the album
quilt and presented the appearance of an
amorphous bundle, while Miss Prissy
still kept her head above the sheets, with
her day cap all awry and her false puffs
sadly out of place. They were moaning
in concert, though neither of them could
hear the sounds made by the other. El­
sie threw her arms round Miss Prissy’s
neck and laid her warm young face
against the witherod cheek wet with
bitter tears.
“He’s a wicked man,” sobbed Miss
Prissy, all of a tremble, “a wolf in
sheep’s clothing. He was against us all
the timo while ho appeared so good but­
ter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He
came creeping round pretending to be a
friend, while his heart wa6 black with
malignity. He wants to take us to that
dreadful charity place old Mann Brit­
tan gave to the town because her niece,
Malviny Rogers, didn’t marry to please
her”— Here tho poor old creature’s
voice faded away, and her face twitched
with unutterable misery.
“But we won’t go,” she began again,
mustering her courage. “Brother Simon
would turn right over in his coflin tc
think of our going to such a place.
Wild horses can’t draw us. Sister and
I vrill*Btay in bed and let him get of­
ficers if he can to set us and our things
out by the side of the road. He may
starve us if he wants to. We won’t gc
and be inmates of Marm Brittan’B old
house, ” and Miss Prissy clutched the
bedpost with nervous vigor. “We know
better wh3t belongs tons as Hinghams. ”
Elsie patted and kissed her old friend,
who was like an obstinate, self willed
baby, impossible to reason with. Miss
Hetty was still extinguished under the
bedclothes, and Elsie heard her saying
her prayers: “Lord, have mercy! O
Lord, have mercy!” When she tried to
go away, Miss Prissy caught hold of
her gown as a last defense, but at last
she had caressed and coaxed her into a
little quietness. She found Hapgood in
the kitchen, where the fire had died
away, standing before the great empty
fireplaca
“I am hungry as a bear, ” said he,
locking at his watch. “Are we to have
no dinner?”
Elsie glanced at him meditatively as
if examining him from head to foot
“Not unless you leave mo to do my
work in peace. I will not lift a hand if
you 6tay around here. ”
“So we have not made up our little
quarrel, it seems. You are still disposed
to be cross and ill natured. You ought
to know, Elsie, that it does not improve
your beauty. ”
,
“My beauty is nothing to you, ” said
Elsie, tossing her head.
“What has got into all the women?
They are behaving like tho very deuce, ”
muttered Arthur as he betook himself
to the sitting room, where he whistled,
drummed on the pane and looked out
at the blowing trees and drifting clouds.
In silence Elsie prepared the meal and
NEW GOODS!
_
•
$9,000 Worth 1
Bought at Bed-rock prices.
To be sold at Figures to suit the times.
made ready the tray for the poor old
women, who were still crying and
strengthening each other in the deter­
mination not to rise. It was a slow,
wretched, heavy day, as distorted and
unnatural as a nightmare. In the after­
noon, to escape from Hapgood, Elsie
took refuge with the calves and sheep
on the hill, where her pet lamb Topsey
thrust her black nose into her hand and
looked at her with sympathetic eyes.
Arthur Hapgood meantime wandered
over the house from garret to cellar, cal­
culating the changes he would moke
and the probable cost and jotting down
figures in a pocket diary.
Elsie waited upon Mr. Hapgood at
supper in almost total silence. She
placed a lamp in the sitting room, at­
tended to the old ladies’ wants for the
night and saw them drop off and lose
their troubles in a quiet sleep, washed
the tea things, put out the fire and
closed the kitchen and then went to her
own room. She oould hear Arthur Hap­
good still wandering restlessly about
tho premises, and once he came to the
stair foot and called her, but she kept
still as a little mouse ancl did not an­
swer. She sat by the window of her
room, where the moonlight began to
steal in across the uncarpeted floor. Her
few gowns, hung on nails against the
long, low, melancholy call of the whip­
poorwill. The sound seemed to divide
the country silence like a sword thrust.
Then it fell again more profound than
before, and the night held its breath in
the low moonlight Again she let out
her voice louder and longer in the
strange bird call, and putting her ear to
tbe ground she listened, with beating
heart Yes, he was coming now. The
light snapping of twigs, the crunch of
a heel on the stones, told her so. In a
moment she saw his tall, dark outline
looming over her, and they had clasped
hands.
“What is it, Elsie? Has that fellow
been annoying you again?”
“Don’t speak of him,” said Elsie in
an agitated whisper, and she laid hold
of his arm. “I have seen Uncle Si
again tonight in my sleep, and he open­
ed the same closet door in the corner of
his room and showed me that bundle of
papers. He looked so sad, so awful, I
was frozen with terror, and I had to get
out of the house to breathe. What do
you think it means?”
Paul saw that Elsie was wrought up
to the highest pitch of excited feeling,
and skeptic as he was about supernatu­
ral appearances he tried to soothe her in­
stead of making light of her delusion.
“It is very strange, Elsie. Do you
low sloping wall behind her little bed, think we could creep into the house
made a dark shadowy corner, but the without being heard?”
“I am sure we could, Paul. Do come
chest of drawers, with its rustic orna­
ments, the small looking glass and a with me, and let us try to probe this
picture or two, all were clear as day in mystery. ”
“I know Hapgood has come back,
the splendor of the unclouded moon just
Elsie, for I have been spying on the
at the full
Elsie’s view was up the high pasture house all day from the top of the hill.
toward the way of the woods. As she I would like to take a look at that wall
sat there she thought of Paul lurking in the corner of Uncle Si’s chamber.
in the tall ferns under the hemlocks Now I remember the attic stairs go up
waiting to hear the whippoorwill’s call. near that place, and there must be a
Her curly head rested against the wall cavity underneath. Perhaps years ago,
by the side of the window. Her fingers when you came here as a child, thfce
were locked together, and her heart was was a closet door there, and it has been
disgusted within her. She remembered walled up. You may have forgotten all
a little prayer her mother had taught about it, and it has come back to you
her long years ago and whispered it for now in a dream. At any rate, we will
Paul and the poor old women and her­ go down and see what we can find. ”
The moon had set, and a moaning
self. The night was warm and pro­
foundly still. Not a leaf moved on the wind bowed the tops of the trees, arfd
trees; not a bird chirped in the bushes. dark clouds rolled up from the west,
There was a faint twinkle of cowbells obscuring the stars. They crept down
and the bleating of lambs in a distant the lane and into the house like two
conspirators and presently found them­
pasture.
,
Suddenly, as if by magic, the scene selves in the dark room where Uncle Si
changed. She was no longer gazing up died and where he had slept for more
the steep moonlighted pastures listen­ than half a century. Elsio groped her
ing to the cattle bells in the dewy grass way to the chimney piece, where stood
and thinking of Paul. She was not even the night lamp she had used in the old
in her familiar little room under the man’s long sickness, with matches.
sloping roof, but was in Uncle Si’s Stealthily she kindled tho wick and
chamber, just as she had seen it the looked at Paul, who was quite pale, and
other night in her dream, with the white he, too, remarked that Elsie also looked
bed, and the coverlid drawn over the pale and wide eyed with suppressed
pillows, and tho streak of moonlight excitement.
They gazed furtivoly around the room,
stretching across the floor, with its
braided rugs. On the chimney pieco lay as if expecting to see something strange
Uncle Si’s great silver watch and the and uncanny, but it was just the same
well thumbed family Bible. As sho plain, familiar, homely place they hod
looked quite spellbound with surprise always known. Paul had taken off his
she saw Uncle Si dressed precisely as in shoes, and now he approached the cor­
life, in his brown clothes and broad ner where Elsie had seen tho closet door
brimmed hat. She saw him turn toward open in the wall. He passod his hand
her a pale, deathlike countenance, the over what appeared to be a solid sur­
mouth drawn with pain, the eyes very face, but he noticed that the wall paper
sad. He motioned to her to come near­ looked brighter and fresher in that part
er, but she stood transfixed with fear, of the room than elsewhere and seemed
cold and clammy in every limb. Slowly to have been put on by an unpracticed
again he opened that closet door in the hand, for it was streaked and wrinkled.
corner of the room where the mourning He stooped down and examined the base­
piece hung, and where Elsie knew there board where it appeared to have sprung
was only solid wall took out a bundle away from the wall. He gently inserted
his fingers just there, and an old rusty
of papers which ho held toward her.
Then the strange picture vanished. nail fell out, aud suddenly a section of
Elsie came to herself, with a gasp and the board came away in his hand. Then
stifled cry of fright. She had been asleep he tapped upon the wall gently, and it
she knew not how long, with her head gave forth a hollow sound. They looked
resting against the wall. Her neck felt at each other with frightened eyes. El­
stiff and sore from the constrained po­ sie put her lamp down on tho floor, and
sition. The moonlight had disappeared a slight space was revealed between tho
from her little chamber. A cold night wall and the floor. As the light flicker­
wind blew in at the window. The house ed upon the wall it showed a long,
was buried in darkness and silence. El­ straight, slightly depressed ridge in the
sie rubbed her eyes vigorously, wonder­ blue and ted paper. Paul took out liis
ing what had happened. She listened to jackknife and passed the point of it gen­
the old clock in the kitchen striking tly along this line. It sank into a crack.
“Good heavens, Elsie, there is a
its slow and solemn 12. More than two
hours had passed since she sat looking door here!” ho said, and for a moment
out at the lane and the moon illumined they neither spoke nor moved, so awe­
hill and thinking of Paul, and yet it struck were they by this strauge discov­
seemed hardly a moment. She remem­ ery.
Elsie got up from the place where she
bered vividly the vision of Uncle Si
holding out to her the packet of papers. had sat crouching on the floor. “Let us
Elsie was not more superstitious than tear off the wall paper,” she whisper­
other healthy minded young girls of ed, and she took the rusty nail and set
her age, but now her nerves were slight­ to work, while Paul followed her ex­
ly shaken, and the dream, or whatever ample with his jackknife. They tore it
it was, took powerful hold on her mind. off bit by bit until at last tho whole
Uncle Si’s sad and solemn face brought form of the low door was revealed. It
the conviction that he was not at rest was under the attic stairs, just as Paul
in the grave and that he called upon had surmised. “Here is a lock,” whis­
pered Paul as he worked away with a
her to take some decisive step.
The closet door opening in the solid will, peeling off paper and paste, “but
wall was as inexplicable to Elsio as where in the name of goodness is the
ever, but as she sat there in the dark, key?” Elsie stood with a puzzled face
shivering, trying to think calmly of for a moment trying to call something
these 6trange things, it suddenly occur­ to mind; then sho stepped softly to the
red to her that the moment had come bureau where Uncle Si kept his under­
for calling Paul out of the woods with clothes, his odds and end6 of belongings,
the whippoorwill’s cry. All were fast and opening the top drawer took out a
asleep in the old farmhouse. Not a big bunch of keys of all sorts and sizes
mouse rustled in the wall. She was strung on a steel ring. Paul, in silence,
fully dressed, and it was but the work tried more than 20 of them, one by one,
of a moment to take a little plaid shawl with ill success. Some were too large,
from among the garments hanging on others too small to fit the lock. At last
tho wall, throw it over her head, open the rustiest and dullest of the lot fell
the door and creep out into the passage. into his hand. He thrust it into the
She stole along through the slumbrous hole. It was stiff and difficult to turn,
house like a spirit, crouched at the door needing oil. But Paul was strong and
of the spare chamber and heard within vigorous, with a wrist like steel. He
the regular breathing of Arthur Hap­ gave it a mighty turn. The lock clicked,
good, glided down the back stairs, and with a strong pull a dark cavity
avoiding the creaking step, and softly in the wall revealed itself, one whose
undid the kitchen door. It was chill and very existence had never been suspected
dewy without, and the melancholy by the two young people.
A moldy, dusty, indescribable odor
moon sloped toward the west, casting
long beams across the grass, where a of decaying cloth and leather came from
rabbit, sitting on his haunches, pricked the open door. Paul stooped down to
peer into the black hole, and Elsie bent
up his sensitive ears.
Elsie knew every stick and stone and over his shoulder, holding the lamp,
bush in the home fields as well by with curiosity and terror painted on her
night as by day. She ran through the face. In a corner lay a heap of Uncle
farmyard, crept between the bars into Si’s moldy boots. Some moth eaten
the lane, sped up the steep cowpath and trousers and waistcoats, slowly dropping
over another fence to a grassy knoll, to pieces, hung on pegs. His castoff
where near a pile of stones grew the great shifts of former years encumbered a
branchy hollow oak. Here she stopped couple of rude shelves, for Uncle Si had
to take breath, putting her hand to her a mania for hoarding old clothes. The
side, for the climb was steep and rugged, dust was more than half an inch thick
The low moon looked at her solemnly. ' over everything, and long gray cobwebs
There was a stirring of young birds in festooned the corners. The
r~'
aspect of
the bushes. Some small creature, per- this dark dust hole was anything but
haps a snake, flittered away through the reassuring.
’
—
- - at each other
They - looked
grass. Elsie, half frightened at what involuntarily and smiled as if they had
she was doing, let out her voice in the been tricked by a ghost. To discover tbe
mysterious closet in the smooth wall
and yet to find nothing but Uncle Si’s
castoff clothes was certainly a wry joke.
Presently Elsie pushed past Paul, and
with a girl’s wit and persistence began
to rummage among the heaped up rub­
bish on the shelf. She thrust her little
hand well under the mass of molding
She drew it o/’t end held it up trium-
phantly in the lamplight.
shirts, and her small nervous fingers
closed involuntarily on a packet of pa­
pers. She drew it out and held it up
triumphantly in the lamplight
“Let us get out of here,” she whis­
pered to the bewildered PauL “I feel
faint, and I can’t breathe.”
She blew out tho lamp, and they tip­
toed to the door, locked it, and Elsie
put the key in her pocket They hardly
drew breath until they were out of the
house, and then like two swallows they
sped to the top ef the lane, the hollow
oak and the great pile of stones. Tho
early summer dawn had come with
cloudy red splendor behind the line of
dark fire on the eastern hills, and the
catbirds were singing fitfully in the
young maple tops. It was by the dawn­
light, seated together behind the great
oak tree, that Elsie and Paul examined
the packet of papers. The first one was
the deed of the old farm, a very ancient
document, yellowed by time aud with a
great seal that weighed several ounces.
Tho second they came upon was Uncle
Si’s will, written by his own hand on a
sheet of common foolscap. Being of
sound and disposing mind and memory,
he had left everything of which he died
possessed to Elsie Ray in case she mar­
ried Paul Raynor by the time she came
of age; otherwise tho estate was to pay
§2,000 to Paul for his education, and
the spinsters, Prissy and Hetty Hing­
ham, were recommended to the kind
care of both tbe young people for life.
There was a clear statement of all the
personal property left by Uncle Si and
a legacy of the family Bible to Arthur
Hapgood. The will was dated six years
back and was witnessed by Reuben and
Dorothy Dick, two plain friends and
distant cousins of Uncle Si, who had
paid him infrequent visits during the
time Elsie had lived at the farm.
She well remembered these placid old
people, the sweet thees and thys with
which they were wont to sprinkle their
conversation, but it was a long time
since she had heard Uncle Si speak of
the Dicks. They might be dead and in
their graves. Both Paul and Elsie, ig­
norant as they were of the world, knew
the will was irregular in form. How
could it hold good against the interests
of the direct heir without the tgstimo-
ny of those old people? By dint of prob­
ing her memory Elsie recalled the fact
that they lived more than a hundred
miles away in quite another part of the
country. She remembered the name of
their village, but had forgotten the state
and county. If the will were produced
at once, its genuineness might be
questioned. She and Paul would find
themselves in an awkward position if,
without proof, they were accused of
forging the paper. In their whispered
talk under the oak tree, in that wild red
dawn, they decided to conceal its exist­
ence for the present to gain time—above
all, to hunt up the Dicks. Moreover,
they must take advice of older and wiser
heads than their own.
Arthur Hapgood did not awake until
late that morning, for it was near mid­
night before he had fallen into his first
heavy slumber. The old ladies’ obsti­
nate resistance to his wishes had nettled
him not a little, and he was also anx­
ious to punish Elsie for the part she had
played. His mind had been at work on
a plan altogether feasible and proper and
calculated to avoid scandal. As the old
women had retreated to their beds and
refused to arise, it was to be inferred
that they were helpless invalids—bed­
ridden and half imbecile and to be dealt
with accordingly. He therefore deter­
mined to drive old Whitefoot in the
chaise to the town, early in the morn­
ing, to engage an ambulance at the hos­
pital to remove the old ladies to the
home, where they could have care and
medical attendance that could not be giv­
en them on the farm. After concocting
this clever plan he fell asleep, with con­
science void of offense, and slept the
sleep of the just.
When Arthur came down stairs at 9
o’clock, lie heard Elsie singing as she
stepped briskly about at her work. He
wondered at the change that had come
over the little witch, who the day be­
fore had been as gloomy and unsocial as
a tombstone. As Elsie grew more cheer­
ful and light hearted Arthur became
glum aud silent. No morning saluta­
tions passed between them. She served
him, however, at breakfast, and while
she smiled at the sugar bowl he frown­
ed at the milk jug enough to turn the
sweet cream sour. Elsie had been in to
wait on the old ladies, had petted and
patted them and breathed comforting
words into their ears. The more Arthur
Hapgood seemed sunk in gloom the
more light hearted Elsie became, the
more trippingly sounded her little feet
about the old kitchen. Breakfast was
just over, and Arthur had drawn out
his watch to calculate the time it would
take him to drive to Littlefield, when a
light carriage, drawn by a single horse.
stopped at the farmhouse door. A pale
old gentleman, tall and thin, with a
straight bodied coat and gray broad­
brim, stepped out of the carriage to give
his hand to a lovely, tranquil old lady
in Quaker drab, with a scoop bonnet
and little shawl of the same color
Elsie had been drawn to the window
by the sound of wheels, aud as soon as
her eye fell on the old couple she rushed
to the front door, flung it wide open,
skipped down the walk and seized the
old lady in her arms.
“We are glad to see thee, Elsie Ray;
glad to see thee, ’ ’ said Reubeu Dick,
shaking her hand.
I
He took off his hat aud looked sol­
emnly up at the front of the old farm­
house.
“I only heard of friend Simon Hap-
good’s departure two days ago, and I
said to my wife, ‘Let us set off at once,
for something tells me we shall be need­
ed in the house of sorrow. ’ Friend Si­
mon was a just man, aud surely thee
has grieved for him, for he was a good
friend to thee. ”
Tears of joy were running down El
sie’s cheeks. She felt that God had
raised up friends in the hour of need.
She led the old people in to the sitting
room, where from the open window Ar
-bur Hapgood had been a bewildered
ipectator of their arrival and Elsie's
greeting.
“Is thee a friend of Simon Hapgood?”
said the old man politely, taking off
ois hat
“I am his nephew, sir,’’said Arthur,
irawing himself up, ‘ ‘and I happen to
be master here now. As my uncle’s di­
rect heir I have come into the prop-
Brty. ”
Is thee quite sure of that?” said old
Reuben, eying him keenly. “Has more
‘»han one will been found drawn by the
band of thy late uncle?”
“Not even one,” said Arthur with
cheerful positiveness. “My unole, as it
happened, never made a will. ”
“Thee is mistaken,” said the old man
impressively. “Thy uncle did make a
will, as both my wife Dorothy and I
ran testify, for we were witnesses tc
the same, and ho spoke to us of its pro­
fusions. Thy uncle was not the man to
leave those who had been dependent on
him in poverty and unfriended. He
knew thee to be the son of an opulent
father, an only child, and he left theo
the family Bible, hoping the perusal
might profit thee to edification. ’
A skeptical smile wreathed Arthur’s
well cut lips. “You must produce the
document, ” said he, “before you can ex­
pect me to credit your story. If my un­
cle ever made such a will, ho doubtless
had good reason for destroying it ”
“Here it is,” said Elsio, and she
came forward, pale and trembling, and
drew the paper out of her pocket “Un­
cle Si revealed to me the place where
it was hidden in a dream. ”
“God be praised, who takes care of the
fatherless and the widow, ” exclaimed
the old man piously. “I felt that I had
a call to come to this place today, and j
I doubt not the Lord's hand was in it. ” !
Arthur examined the will, biting his
lips with vexation and rage, pale and
red by turns. He pronounced tho paper
a clever forgery and declared loudly
that he would show up its true nature
in a court of justice. There was an ex­
citing scene between him and old Ren- |
ben, who declared emphatically that the
law of the land would sustain the will
of Simon Hapgood. So it proved in the
end.
Old Miss Prissy and Miss Eetty
meantime, hearing loud and excited
talk in the next room, had hastily
jumped out of bed and huddled on their j
clothes under the impression that the i
house was on fire. Elsie ran to the top 1
of the lane and gave the whippoorwill .
call to summon Paul out of the woods, |
and when at k»st Arthur Hapgood drove
away to the town in the hired carriage
that had brought Reuben and Dorothy
Dick to the door he looked bock, with a
cloud on his face, and saw a curious
group gathered in front of the old farm­
house to speed the parting guest. There
were Aunt Prissy and Aunt Hetty in
their hastily improvised toilets, looking
joyfully triumphant, the tall, spare form
of the old Quaker and the placid face
of his wife, and behind them all Elsie
and Paul, who had clasped hands like
two loving children.
Elsie and Paul have been married
now two years, and whenever Paul re­
fers to the finding of Uncle Si’s will
and broaches his favorite theory that
she must sometime, wheD a child, have |
known of the existence of the closet un
dcr the attic stairs, Elsie says nothing,
but she looks very thoughtful.
THE END.
TO MEND HIS BROKEN NECK.
A Young Philadelphian Under Treatment
at tlie Flower Hospital.
for Infants and Children
HIRTY years* observation of Castoria with thej>atrona^.>_uf
millions of persons, permit us to speak of it without gueasing.
It is unquestionably the best remedy for Infanta and. Children
the world has over known.
gives thorn health.
It is harmless. Children like it. It
It will save their livov_ In it Mothers have
something which 1» ubaolntely »af»
practicxily perfect »• a
child’s medicine.
Castoria destroys 'Worms.
Castcria allays Feverishness.
Castoria prevents vomiting Sonr Curd.
Castoria cures Diarrhcaa and 'Wind Colic.
CaRtoriareliovonT^etliiiigTroublos
Cattoria nentrsliTCs tho ogocts of carbonic acid g.aa or poiaonon^ air.
Castoria doe» not contain morphine, opinm. or othor narcotic property.
giving healthy and nai arai sleep.
Castoria is put np in on«-stee “bottles only. It is not sold in bulk.
Don't allow any one to sell yon anything elue on the pie» or yrom»»«»
that it is ” jnst as flood’’ and *' will answer every pnrposo. ’
See that yon got C~A~S*T-O~R-I*A.
is on every
vrapper.
Children Cry for Pitcher’s Castoria
V
self under the care of Dr. William Tod
Helmuth at the Flower hospital. The
plaster cast will be kept upon Menge
until his recovery, of which the sur­ The following general forms are always in stock
geons are very hopeful, or until the and for sale at the Reporter oihee :
Warranty Deeds
Real Estate Mortgage
experiment is seen to bo a failure. If Quit-cbum Deeds
< hattel Mortgage
.‘-atisfaction ot Mort.
successful, the patient will still be able Bond for Deed
Farm Lease
Transfer of Mortgage
to get about with his head in a brace.
Not jg und Receipts. Bill of Sale
—New York Letter.
We carry a large stock of stationery aud are
LEGAL BLANKS.
prepared to do Job printing of even- sort tn the
best style of the art und at low figures.
VULGAR THIEVES.
Suspicion That There Are Snch Among the
Selects of Dritish Aristocracy.
The gratifying announcement is made,
says a London correspondent, that
“nothing was missed” after the great
garden party given by the Duke of Saxe-
Coburg at Clarence House, at which a
dozen princes and the whole fashiona­
ble world were present. One would
have thought the announcement scarcely
necessary, but it seems that some guests
at these royal gatherings are accustomed
to appropriate spoons, forks and such
like trifles as souvenirs. This is not
theft, but loyal enthusiasm.
The same explanation of the disap­
pearance of private property at the state
ball given at Buckingham palace by
command of the queen seems scarcely
applicable. The royal plate was found
to be intact, but quite a considerable
number of ladies lost brooches, brace­
lets and the like. The missing jewelry
was diligently sought for by the bali-
room sweepers, supervised by court offi­
cers, next morning, and one or two
small things were found, but all the
really valuable articles aro still unac­
counted for.
Only two explanations, both sadden­
ing and humiliating, are forthcoming.
One is that there are vulgar thieves in
the British aristocracy. The other is
that professional robbers, disguised as
dukes or duchesses or what not. gained
admission to the sacred precincts of
Buckingham palace.
Mexican
Mustang
Liniment
Rev. Mather Ilylos.
The Rev. Mather Byles of Boston, who
preached there in 1776, one fast day ef­
fected au exchange with a country clergy
man, and each went on horseback to the
appointed place. They met by the way,
and Dr. Byles no sooner saw his friend ap­
proaching than he put spurs to his horse
and passed him at full gallop. “What is
the matter? ” cried the other in astonish­
ment. “Why so fast, Brother Byles?”
Brother Byles shouted over bis shoulder,
without slackening speed. “It is fast day!”
One day when he was busy in nailing some :
list upon his doors to exclude the cold a ;
parishioner called tohim, “The wind blow- .
eth where it listeth, Dr. Byles!” “Yes. |
sir, replied the doctor, “and man listeth I
where the wind bloweth.” He was once!
arrested as a Tory, tried, convicted aud I
sentenced to confinement on board a guard- '
ship to be sent to England with his family ■
in 40 days. A sentinel was placed over *
him. He was removed, replaced and again
removed. “I have been guarded, regarded
and disregarded.” said the doctor. He
spoke humorously of his sentinel as his I
“observe-a-Tory. ”—Sau Fraucicso Argo- 1
naut.
A novel mode of trottment in an at­
tempt to relieve a young man of the
effects of breaking his neck is being
tried at the Flower hospital. The pa- '
tient is enveloped in a plaster cast from
the waist up, nothing but his face bt.-ing
left bare. This is to prevent the slightest
movement of the head or neck while the
muscles and bones are adjusting them­
selves to their normal relations.
Cobweb» and Cut».
The subject of the treatment is George
The cry of modern surgery is for chem
Monge, 19 years old, of Philadelphia.
leal cleanliness, and the deluded man or
Last January, while ho was exercising woman who binds a small poultice of mi­
in a gymnasium, he fell from the hori­ crobes, otherwise cobwebs, over a fresh
zontal bar, striking on the back of his cut as a healing agency is a candidate for
head. The physician who was called in Bloomingdale. Pressure will stop the
said the muscles of the peck were bleeding, if it is not arterial, aud will help
sprained, but after two weeks in bed that. Whether au artery has beeu tam­
Menge, although able to sit up. could pered with or not is shown by tbe way the
not raise his head except by using his cut bleeds. A pumping flowora>teady
spouting stream indicates that it has.
hands. When his head was unsupport­ Press firmly while tbe nearest physician
ed, it fell forward on his breast. As he i is summoned. For ordinary cuts, evfeu
had not recovered at the end of seven those which bleed profusely, firm pressure
weeks, he was sent to the Pennsylvania right upon them will soon check tlie flow.
hospital in Philadelphia, where an ex­ Then wash them thoroughly in clear hot
amination showed that* his neck was water, draw tbe edges together and put
broken. An instrument was attached to strips of court or surgeon's plaster across.
his head to hold it in place, but no im- 1 Strips should be used instead of a single
piece to afford vent for any pus that should
provement resulted.
gather. The washing is especially neces­
Three weeks ago Menge started for sary w-hen tbe cut is made by glass or tin,
the Catskills, intending to return to! lest any bit of foreign material remain in
Philadelphia later for further treatment, I the wound to fester.—New York Times.
but while staying with some friends in |
Brooklyn he was persuaded to put him-
i
for
Burns,
Caked & Inflamed Udders.
Piles,
Rheumatic Pains,
Bruises and Strains,
Running Sores,
Inflammations,
Stiff joints,
Harness & Saddle Sores,
Sciatica,
Lumbago,
Scalds,
Blisters,
Insect Bites,
Ali Cattle Ailments,
Ail Horse Aiiments,
Ali Sheep Ailments,
Penetrates Muscle,
Membrane and Tissue
Quickly to the Very
Seat of Pain and
Ousts it in a Jiffy.
Rub in Vigorously.
Mustang Liniment conquers
Pain,
Makes /Tan or Beast well
again.
W. L. D ouglas
CiUCìÌr ISTHEBKST
W ÍTI WCa NO SQUEAKING.
*5. CORDOVAN,
FPXNCH&ENAMELLED CALF
*4-.^.^PFiNECALc&KÄNGA®a
» 3.59 P0LICE.3 S oles .
2 WORKINGMEN
A
EXTRA FINE. “’S
>
B cys S chool S hoes ,
-LADIES-
V3-2S?B f . st F on 6 ol ,
■;';■>>> SEND f OR CATALOGUE *
W-L-DOUGLAS,
BROCKTON, MASS.
You can save money by purchasing IV. 1».
D uue I b •» Shoe«»
Because, we are the largest manufacturers of
advertised shoes in the world, and guarantee
the value by stamping the name ana price on
tbe bottom, which protects you against high
prices and the middleman's profits. Our shoes
equal custom work in style, easy fitting and
wearing aualities. We have them sold every­
where at lower prices for the value given than
sny other make. Take no substitute. If your
dealer cannot supply you, we can. Sold by
jacobson , M c M innville
FALL STYLES 1894 Kay *
* • * •
Come cuhile Stoek is pull and fresh and make
Your Selections.
• • • •
Prices of Clothing are now bed-rock. They are liable to go upward instead of
dow nward. In our Merchant Tailoring Department we employ the best
workmen that can be had. A line assortment of new suitings to select from.
Ä Todd
CLOTHIERS AND MERCHANT
TAILORS.
M c M innville and north while
We Carry Everything in the Line of Clothing, Hats, Furnishing Goods, and Shoes.