• . \ r .V His Own Funeral Sermon. George Inwood, of No. 709 Union street lias written the sermon which will be delivered at his own fnneral. Moreover, to make certain that this sermon shall be fully understood, that there may be no faltering1 or hesitancy over the blindly written words, he has caused his funeral production to be printed in large, bold type. One hun dred copies were struck off. These are kept in a strong box away from the light, only to be produced on the day of the funeral. Having thus arranged for the statements of fact and belief to be uttered, Mr. Inwood went a step fur ther, and provided in his will, which will be opened before the funeral serv ices, for a reader. Any person who is a sectarian in belief is hopelessly dis qualified. The heirs will fail of ful filment of the conditions upon which bequests . are predicated is that if any member of any sect enunciates the words. This necessarily bars out all clergymen. From this it should not be inferred that Mr. Inwood has no religious belie! Of himself he says: “I am a full believer in the life and doctrins of Jesus Christ, but I am strictly non-sectarian.”—San Francisco Examiner. A Honker Story. Among the passengers arriving at Southaupton on Saturday last, by the steam ship Norman, who was a monkey of large size which came from South Africa in charge of a passen ger, by whom he was found after the late explosion at Johannesburg, seated in the only room remaining intact of what had before been a considerable sized cottage. In the room were also discovered two baby children, one of whom had been killed, but the other was alive, and, it is said, in the arms of the monkey, who was tenderly nurs ing it. The living child was adopted by a resident in Johannesburg, but the monkey, who was noted on board for his extreme fondness for children, was a popular passenger by the Union Com pany’s Mail steamer.—Westminister Gazette. Deafness Can Not Be Cured By local applications, as they cannot reach the diseased portion of the ear. There is only one way to cure deafness, and that is by constitutional remedies. Deafness is caused by an Inflamed con dition of the mucous lining of the Eus tachian Tube. When the tube is In flamed you have a rumbling sound or Imperfect hearing, and when It Is en tirely closed Deafness Is the result, and unless the inflammation can be taken out and this tube restored to Its normal condition, hearing will be destroyed for ever; nine cases out of ten are caused by Catarrh, which Is nothing but an in flamed condition of the mucous sur faces. We will give One Hundred Dollars for any case of Deafness (caused by Ca tarrh) that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. Send for circulars, free. P. J. CHENEY & CO„ Toledo. O. Sold by druggists; 7Sc. HaU’s Family Pills. 25c. Between Boston Infants. Emerson (aged 5)—“Have you not been charmed by the accuracy of pro portion in Gulliver’e Travels?” . Winthrop (aged 7, with a superior air)—“Indeed, no. Those sharp sight ed, diminutive individuals, the Lilipu tians. should have been the first to dis cover microbes. ”—Truth. Hegemon's Camphor Ice with Glycerine. — o . - — - g———— wsys/oissstrs The uriglnal and only genuine. Cures Chapped Hands and 1 ace, Cold Sores. 4c. U. G. Clark Co.jf.Haven.Ct. A Becoming Coiffure. As for doing the hair up, think over all the styles of coiffures you ever saw, and then in front of mirrors, by the aid of which you can see the front, bask and both sides of the head, try first one and then the other style—low, high, wide, narrow, smooth bands, crinkles, temple locks, middle part, pompadour, figure eights, flat braids, etc., etc.—and when you have hit upon the one that makes the head and face conform most nearly to a graceful ideal, adopt that for your distinctive stile and cling to it, though empires fall. My doctor said I would die, but Piso's Cure for Consumption cured me.—Amos Kelner, Cherry Valley, Ills., Nov. 28, ’95. The smaller the soul the bigger a dollar looks. The man who makes his own god always has a little one. Gladness Comes With a better 'understanding of the transient nature of the many phys ical ills, which vanish before proper ef forts—gentle efforts—pleasant efforts— rightly directed. There is comfort in the knowledge, that so many forms of sickness are not due to any actual dis ease, but simply to a constipated condi tion of the system, which the pleasant family laxative, Syrup of Figs, prompt ly removes. That is why it is the only remedy with millionsof families, and is everywhere esteemed so highly by all who value good health. Its beneficial effects are due to the fact, that it is the one remedy which promotes internal cleanliness without debilitating the organs on which it acts. It is therefore all important, in order to get its bene ficial effects, to note when you pur chase, that you have the genuine arti cle, which is manufactured by the Cali fornia Fig Syrup Co. only and sold by all reputable druggists. If in the enjoyment of good health, and the system is regular, laxatives or other remedies are then not needed. If afflicted with any actual disease, one may be commended to the most skillful physicians, but if in need of a laxative, one should have the best, and with the well-informed everywhere. Syrup of Figs stands highest and is most largely ased and gives most general satisfaction. 1896 Hljh grade Ship1 el anywhere C. O. D. at lelirea. weight IlioSlli -Vunut end for Catalogue, -a. weight It __ H. HARDY a CO., 1319 Fa: iiu u, SL, Omaha, Ned. LINDSEY. OMAHA* RUBBERS! BY CLARA AUGUSTA INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. CHAPTER I. RCH Trevlyn had had a good day. Business had been brisk. The rain had fallen steadily since daybreak, auu toe crossings in York were deep in The little street New ankle m u d. street sweepers arms ached fearfully, but his pocket was full of pennies, Interspersed with an occa sional half dime. The clouds were breaking in the west, and a gleam of sunshine gilded the tall tower of St. John’s. Arch shouldered his broom, and whistled a merry tune as he took his way homeward. His bright dark eyes sparkled as he thought how the sight of his earnings would cheer his feeble mother. She could have tea now, with real milk and some sugar in it, and an orange, too. Only yesterday she was wishing she had an orange. Arch’s way led past a horticulturist's store, and his eyes wandered longingly over the display of flowers in the win dow. He must have just one wee white rose, because, only the Sabbath before, while he sat at his mother’s feet, she had wept in telling him «hnnt the sweet roses that used to grow under the win dow of the little country cottage where her happy youth had been spent. The white rose would be like bring ing back to her ever so little a bit of the happy past. It could not cost much, and Arch felt wealthy as a prince. He stepped into the store and asked the price of a white rose. The clerk an swered him roughly: “Get out of the store, you young ras cal. You want to steal something." “I am not a thief, sir,” said the boy, proudly, his sallow cheeks crimsoning hotly. “I want a rose for my mother.| I guess I can pay for it!” “It’s half a dollar, if you want it,” said the man sneeringly. “Show your money, or take yourself off this min ute!” Arch’s countenance tell. He had not half a dollar in all. He turned sadly away, his head drooping, his lip quiv ering. Oh, how very hard it was to be poor, he thought, looking enviously at the costly carriage with a pair of splendid grays, standing before the door. “Stop, little boy!” said a sweet voice from somewhere among the roses and heliotropes. “Is your mother sick?” Arch removed his cap—some inborn spirit of courtesy prompting him to be reverent toward the glorious vision which burst upon him. For a moment he thought he saw an angel, and al most expected that she would unfold her silvery wings, and vanish in a gold en cloud from his sight. But after the first glance he saw that she was a little girl about his own age—eight or nine years old, perhaps—with yellow curls, deep hazel eyes, a mouth like a rosebud, and a blue silk frock. She repeated the question: “Is your mother sick, little boy?”_ “No, she is not sick, _for she always sits up, and sews. But she is not strong, and her cheeks never have any color in them, like yours.” "And does she love flowers?” “Yes, she loves them dearly. She kisses them always, when she has any. And that’s not often.” “Does she? That’s nice. Just like I do!” said the little girl in a pleased voice. “Mr. Burns”—to the gruff clerk—"here is a dollar. Give me some real nice roses, and two or three sweet pinks. The lady shall have some flow ers. Tell her I sent them.” “Who shall I say sent them?” “Margie Harrison. Will she know me, think?” "I guess not. But it's all the same. [ shall tell her you are one of the angels, any way. She knows about them, for Bhe’s told me ever so much about them.” The little girl laughed, and gave him the flowers. “Don’t soil them with your grimy hands,” she said a little saucily; “and when you get home—let’s see, what’s your name?” "Archer Trevlyn.” “Why, what a nice name! Just like names in a story book. I know some elegant people by the name of Trevlyn. But they live in a big house and have Bowers enough of their own. So they can’t be your folks, can they?” “No, they’re not my folks,” replied the boy,with a touch of bitterness in his voice, “Well, Archer, when you get home, you wash your face, do! It’s so dirty,” The boy flushed hotly. If one of his companions had said that to him, he would have knocked him down instant ly. But he forgave everything this lit tle girl said, because she was so beau tiful and kind. “I am a street sweeper, miss.” “Oh, that accounts for it. then. It’s vwy iruddy today, and you must be :hed. Hark! there’s Florine calling me. 3ood-by, Archer.” She vanished, and a moment later the boy say her disappear within the flittering carriage, which, loaded down with fragrant blossoms, was driven slowly away. He stood a little while looking after it, then, pulling his cap lown over his eyes, and grasping the stems of her flowers tightly in his ittle purple hand, he started home. Home! It could hardly be called so, wd yet it was home to Archer. His mother war there—the dear mother who was all the world to him. It was a poor part of the city—an old, tumble down wooden house, swarming with tenants, teeming with misery, filth and crime. Up a crazy flight of steps, and turn ing to the right. Arch saw that the door of his mother's room was half open, and the storm had beaten in on the floor. It was all damp and dismal, and such an indescribable air of desolation over everything! Aren’s heart beat a little slower as he went in. His mother sat in an arm chair by the window, an uncovered box in her lap, and a min iature locket clasped in her hand. “Oh, mother! mother dearest!" cried Arch, holding up the flowers, “only look what I have got! An angel gave them to me! A very angel, with hair like the sunshine, and a blue frock, all real silk! And I have got my pocket full of pen nies, and you shall have an orange, mother, and ever so many nice little things beside. See, mother dear!” He displayed a handful of coin, hut she did not notice him. He looked at her through the gloom of the twilight, and a feeling of terrible awe stole over him. He crept to her side and touched her cheek with his finger. It was cold as ice. A mortal pallor overspread his face; the pennies and the flowers rolled unheeded to the floor. "Dead! dead! My mother is dead! ’ he cried. He did not display any of the passion ate grief which is natural to childhood —there were no tears In his feverish eyes. He took her cold hands in his own, and stood there all night long, smoothing back the beautiful hair and talking to her as one would talk to a sick child. It was thus that Mat Miller found him the next morning. Mat was a little older than himself—a street sweeper, also. She and Arch had always been good friends; they sympathized with each other when bad luck was on them, and they cheered lustily when fortune smiled. “Hurrah, Arch!” cried Mat, as she burst into the room; “it rains again, and we shall get a harvest! Good gracious, Arch! is—your—mother— dead?” “Hush!” said the boy, putting down the cold hand; “I have been trying to warm her all night, but it’s no use. Only just feel how like ice my hands are. I wish I was as cold all over, and then they would let me stay with' my mother.” 1 “Oh, Arch!” cried the girl, sinking-: down beside him on the desolate hearth, “it’s a hard world to live in. I won der if, when folks be dead, they have to sweep crossings, and be kicked and be cuffed round by old grandmas when they don’t get no pennies? If they don’t then I wish I was dead, too, Arch!” “I suppose it's wicked, Mat. She used to say so. She told me never to get tired of waiting for God’s own time— her very words, Mat. Well, now her time .has come, and I am all alone—all alone! Oh, mother—mother!” He threw himself down before the dead woinan, and his form shook with emo tion, but not a tear came to his eyes. Only that hard, stony look of hopeless despair. Mat crept up to him and took his head in her lap, smoothing softly the matted chestnut hair. . "Don’t take on so, Arch, don’t!” she cried, the tears running down over her sunburnt face. ’Till be a mother to ye. Arch! I will, indeed! I know I’m a lit tle brat, but I love you. Arch, and some time, when we get bigger, I’ll marry you, Arch, and we’ll live in the country, where there’s birds and flowers, and it’s just like the park all round. Don’t feel so, don't!” Arch pressed the dirty little hands that fluttered about him—for, next to his mother, he loved Mat. “I will go out now and call some body,” she said; “there’s Mrs. Hill and Peggy Sullivan, if she ain’t drunk. Either of them will come!” And a few minutes later the room was filled with the rude neighbors. They did not think it necessary to call a coroner. She had been ailing for a long time. Heart complaint, the physician said—and she had probably died in one of those spasms to which she was subject So they robed her for the grave, and when all was done, Arch stole in and laid the pinks and roses on her breast. “Oh, mother! mother!” he said, bend ing over her in agony, “she sent them to you, and you shall have them! I thought they would make you so hap py! Well, maybe they will now! Who chn tell?’* v- ' The funeral was a very poor one. A kind city missionary prayed over the remains, vmd the hearse was followed to Potter’s Field only by Mat and Arch—ragged and tattered, but sincere mourners. • : CHAPTER II. HEN they ca me back Mat took Arch’s hand and led him into the wretched den she called home. “You shall stay here. Arch, with Grandma Rugg and me. She Bald you might if you’d be a good boy. and not plague the cat Grandma’s a rough one, but she ain’t kicked me since [ tore her cap off. I’m too big to he kicked now. Sit down, Arch; yon know you can't Hay at home now.” Yea, to be eure he could not stay there any longer. No one knew that any bet ter than Arch. The landlord had warned him out that very morning. A half-quarter’s rent was still due, and the meager furniture would hardly suf fice to satisfy his claim. Hitherto, Mrs. Trevlyn had managed to pay her own expenses, but, now that she was gone, Arch knew that it was more than folly to think of renting a room. But he could not suppress a cry of pain when they came to take away the things, and when they laid their rude hands on the chair in which his mother died, poof Arch could endure no more, but fled out into the street and wandered about till hunger and dreariness forced him back to the old haunt. He accepted the hospitality of Grand ma Rugg, and made his home with her and Mat. The Influences which sur rounded him were not calculated to de velop good principles, and Arch grew rude and boisterous, like the other street boys. He heard the vilest lan guage—oaths were the rule rather than the exception in Grigg Court, as the place was called—and gambling, and drunkenness, and licentiousness abounded. Still, it was singular how much evil Arch shunned. nut mere was growing witmn mm a principle of bitter hatred, which one day might embitter his whole exist ence. Perhaps he had cause for it; he thought he had, and cherished it with jealous eare, lest it should be annihil ated as the years went on. From his mother’s private papers he had learned much of her history that he had before been ignorant of. She had never spoken to him very freely of the past. She knew how proud and high his temper was, and acted with wisdom in burying the story of her wrongs in her own breast. Her father, Hubert Trevlyn, had come of a proud family. There was no bluer blood in tbe land than that which ran in the veins of the TreVlyns. Not very far back they had an earl for their ancestor, and, better than that, the whole-long lineage had never been tar nished by a breath of dishonor. Hubert was the sole child of his fath er, and in him were centered many bright and precious hopes. His father was a kind parent, though a stern one, who would never brook a shade of dis obedience in this boy upon whom his fondest hopes and aspirations were fixed. When Hubert was about twenty-four he went into the country for his health, which was never very robust, and while there he met Helen Crayton. It was a case of love at first sight, but none the less pure and steadfast on that ac count. Helen was an orphan—a poor seamstress, but beautiful and intelli gent beyond any woman he had ever mqt. They loved, and they would not be cheated out of their happiness by any worldly opposition. Hubert wrote to his father, informing him of his love for, Helen, and asking his consent to their union. Such a letter as he re ceived in return! It bade him give up the girl at once and return home. , If he ever spoke of her again he was dis owned forever! He might consider himself houseless and homeless. Hubert had some of the proud Trev lyn blood in his composition, and this fetter roused it thoroughly. A week afterward he was the huBband of Helen Crayton. .He took hiB young wife to the city, and, having something of a talent for painting, he opened a studio, hoping to receive sufficient patronage from his friends to support his family in comfort. (TO BE CONTINUED. I NEW SUBMARINE BOAT. In Which Three Men Can Live Under Water Twelve Bonn. Tet another submarine boat has been Invented, or ia it an old friend under an assumed name? Be this as It may, a submarine boat, ordered by the Bra zilian government, was to be tried this week on the Seine, and the trials being satisfactory other and larger vessels are to be built, says the Court Journal. The new boat, which is named the Goubet, is some tewenty-six feet long, about 6 feet 6 inches in diameter in the center, and has a displacement of about ten tons. The motive power is supplied by electricity, and the screw also serves the purpose of a rudder, the shaft being Joined so as to enable it to be turned either to the right or to the left. Three men, the inventor claims, can live un der water in the Goubet for twelve hours with the supply of compressed air. This has, of course, to be proved; but in the event of anything going wrong, a lead keel, weighing over a ton will be dropped, and the boat will at once come to the surface like a cork. On account of electricty being used for supplying the propelling power, the sphere of action of the new boat must of necessity be very limited, as com passes cannot be used, but it could do all that is required of it, if taken on board a vessel and launched when the enemy’s ships were in sight. The Gou bet’s mission is to throw torpedoes, and if the arrangement for throwing these projectiles can be relied upon, she will prove a formidable antagonist. To sink the Goubet water is let into com partments in the lower part of the boat, and when it is sunk to any required depth in that position it remains ex actly, the arrangement for sinking the vessel being so beautifully and care fully arranged. One ounce of water— more or less—will cause the boat to sink lower or come nearer the surface. Floo'U of tho Nila. The floods of the Nile are so regular in their coming that for hundreds of •' years they have not varied ten days j In the date of their arrival at a given j point. The Nile mud, which renders Egypt a habitable country, is said to bear a striking resemblance to that; which every season is brought down j by Missouri. Half Fare to Virginia and Carolina. On May 5 homeseekers* excursion tickets will be sold from all points in the West and Northwest over the "Big Four Route” and Chesapeake & Ohio Uy. to Virginia andNorth Carolina at one fare for the round-trip. Settlers looking for a home in the South can do no better than in Virginia. There they have cheap farm lands, no blis znrds, no cyclones, mild winters, never failing crops, cheap transportation and the best markets. Send for free de cretive pamphlet, excursion rates and time folders. U. L. Truitt, N. W. P. A., 23-1 Clark St, Chicago. 111. Fair and Fruitful As the West Is, It Is often malarious. But It Is pleasant to know that a competent safe guard irt tho shape of Hostetter's Stomach Hitlers exists, which absolutely nullfles the poison of miasma Western bound emi grants should Deur this in mind. Nor should it be forgotten, tlio llltters is a stcrllngrem euy for dyspepsia, bllllousness, constipa tion, kidney and nervous complaints and' yheumntlsm:__ There 1b no aristocracy so great ns that in a little town. The mere one uses Parker's Ginger Toale the mure Its khkI qualities .. re revealed In die, elllng colds, indigestion, pains uud every kind of weakn.es. The most finished literary product has no charm for the proof reader. Walking would often he a pleasure were It not for the oo ns. These pcMs nre easily re moved with Ulndercorns. lie. at druggists. The poorest cyclist often has the finest cycling suit.__ Fits stopped free by Dr. K line's (Irens gerve Restorer. N u Kits alter the nrst one’s use. Marvelous cures. Treatise ami »2lr.s I lot l |e fi r. t» It it eases, tend to or. Kline,wl .lieabt., folia., fa. The knife of the guillotine is weighted with ISO pounds of lead. > ’ There is no temptation for a man to wear skirts._ If the Baby Is Cutting Teetn. Be nre and use that old and well-tried remedy, , (Vis-snow's SooTimra Svatir for Children Teething. Billiard table, second-hand, for sale ehcap. Apply to or address, H. C. Atm, _ Ml a lith St., Omaha, Neh, The Hit of the • * Season... is made by Ayer's Sarsa parilla. Just at this season when Spring ancyts debili tating dgys ure with us, there fa noth ing like^Lyer’s Sarsaparilla to put-new life into the sluggish sys tem. It sweep* away the dull ness, laqk of, app>etite, lan guidness, &nd ' pain, as a broom sweeps away cob- l j webs. It does not brace up It builds up-v ’^ Its benefit is yvs pasting. Dr;;;: you feel run., down? Taka! AYER'S Sarsaparilla Send for “Curcbdok,” too pagen> Free. J. C. Ayer Co., ' -i. > Lowell, Mass. Queer Names.-* " A Crick "—” A Slllob’ "A Twist’*—*• A Jam" ‘A Halt"—“Baw Spots" . Blue Spots”—” Dead Aches”— are all well known of flesb, bone, Ct TiJrfthc HU *1 muscle, and easily cured by kJlstlclVUUj Ulle iM The coming Artist who to paint a popular subject. knows enough.. > iiv PLUG . You get 5H oz. of “Battle Ax** for 10 cents* You pnly get 3i oz*,l of other brands of no bkter quality for 10 cents* In other words, if you buy “Battle Ax” you get 2 oz* more of high grade tobacco for the, same. money* Can you afford tp resist this fact? We say NO— unless you have “Money to Burn;” •if, •WALL PAHtK FREE* Would be dearer than AIi»l, Tmiiii*****, Kentucky. Lahd^ Kicun>ioii» from the North- j vrtfhl to Southern R*y Points April HI and May \ 1 A. Detailed Information with maps andUeftcrlp- , live pamphlets will be sent free U|*>n anpllca- A tion 10 Jtt. V. Richards, Land A pent Southern Railwav. Washington, D. C. He will aim send ' to unv ndd re** free, a IS-pare Journal, “THE < SOUTHERN FIELD,*' which should be read , by every Northern family. WE HAVE NO agents wm — ■ M1W ha but Mil direct to the con nuiner at wooumie prices. ; ship anywhere for examin- : atton before sale. Ercrjr- | thin* warranted. 100 styles of Carriages, W stylbs of j .Harness, 41 styles Riding Sag- ! I ilea. Write for catalogue. lUKin CiBBUGI a HAH. IK8S am CO.. KLUUHT, ■SB. w. u. » ratt, Becy. RIICCIEQ a* low mIO-oo. DUDDILO Mariwjs for $7t>. l(K)«tyUa. Good variety «. f eecond-hand Carriages and Wagons. Nobody m»ils on rloH r mi reins. DKl’MMOND CARRIAGE CO. lttb and Htuuoy t>t», Omaha SCHOOL DESKS SWLX?a‘.S;l WNtoro School Supply Home. Dm XoIum. la. Write for what you want to Tills MIX?HEM IN. VESTMENT CO., Minin* Exchange, Denver, polo* DROPSY TBEATBA «U*V ^ < TBE4TBD -, Pmltlwly Cared with Vegetable_ Bat* cured thousand! of COSOS. Cura rum bn. aounosd hopeless by beat physicians, iron hot dose — --- "7 ccc no pujaieiuha rtUBIUni (HNS symptoms disappear: la ten days at least m.|Ue M all *y mo tom a removed. Bend lor-—■■ . , • ™ ™su *»* free book tYHttrao* niAls of mlreculoo* curer. Ton day's treatmeti* ire* by mall. If you order trial send lUc la atampate po«tare. Pa. H. H. (Jkkkn & Boas, Atlanta, <^ you order trial return tide ad'UtlMiaut to us. WELL MACHINERY Illnattatad etWom abawixm Biou CMy Eadn* ud Iran Work*. Sueonaon to Penh Mf*. Co. 7 _ _ Hmi City. lam. . ”**■ Rownx A Chub lUcHirau Co.. Mil TTtnc Marencri Mnn, ami City ’/ •Jwwhh * nxumoi craith, '#t*Y,£sR3m WMiiimn Cra«t5 opium awi Win MrM. «Mt MM ' muuR,mun,«i. > W. N. U., OMAHA—17—18f>6 When writing to advertisers, kindly __mention this paper.