Decatur Democrat, Volume 25, Number 16, Decatur, Adams County, 21 July 1881 — Page 1

The Decatur Democrat.

V0L.25.

The Democrat. Official Paper of Adams County. H. IT.r»y Williams, rroi>rictor. Terms: One Dollar amd Fifty Cents Per Year. Till: Itr.JtOCItATHi tCFNTH. K*fn»t hm t iwl’urtorj iirraniji'in mln ran b»- nmrie wr will have mh Agent tor The Hew oriitl al each puotofiier in the . the ntimi'H of v* limn w 11! be kept Maiidiiitf in the paper. W•'do I hia tor Ihr convenience «»t our MiiliMcribr cm. nnd trum ili<*> »»ill appreriuie it. StibHcrfberN chii pat their Niibncri pt ion, or nn> part thereof, or nn> sum ot money, to oiiraxrntw. whowill receipt lor the name, mid who m!m<» will take the name* and rush <»t new Nnbarribers. The tallowing are the naincN a! agent* a tread y appointed, and our put rout at (hr *e vr rn I ottiern will do u» a urrat Invar by re mil ting to them n “lit*-lr tnonrt on nubMcripllon:" <’. W . fl IK KUi Monroe JOHN It. I! VI.:: Geneva M'GEMI MORKOW l inn Grove J. T. BAILEY, ATT’Y AT LAW J- J. I’., I»K< ATUR, I iDIAN A. JJ’ill Practice in Adams and adjoining f’eiiniieM. Collections n specialty. v24t»2’»if A <; HOLLOWAY; M. D . PHYSICIAN & SURGEON, DECATUR, INDIANA. Office in Houston’s Block, np-stairs. Will Httrnd to all professional calls promptly, night or day. Charges reasonable. Resi Hence on north side of Monroe street, 4ih house east of Hart's Mill. 25jy79tf i: B. Ai i.isuN. I’r><t. \V. H. Niblick, Cashier. D. 81 vuABAKF.n, Vice I’ren’t. THEADAMS COUNTY BANK, DECATUR, INDIANA, This Bank is now for the transaction of a general banking business. We buy end sell Town, Township and County Orders. 25jy79tf PETERSON & Hi’FFMAN, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, DECATUR, INDIANA. Will practice in Adams and adjoining coMn'it-s. Especial attention to collections nn 1 titles to real estate. Are No laries Public and draw deeds ami mortgages Peal pstate bought, told and rented on ieaeonable ter ms Office, rooms land 2. 1.0 O. F. building. 2'jy79tf FRANCE A KING. ATTORNEYS AT LA If', OECATI r,lndiana.

—‘ ‘ fm-q aqe_*'_2!L!!_ L_l f S' V, j” i I’r.BBV, Huston. county. (>a , Jania y 28, 1880. In 1873. there were two negro, corfineil in jail badly afflicted with Syphilis. In iny official capnciiy I employed C. T. Swift fo'rure them, under a contrac', “no cure, no foiit, He administered his -‘Syplilitic Specific, and in a few weeks 1 felt bound Io pay him out of the county treasury, as he had effected a complete and radical cure, A. S. Giles, Ord. Houston co,, Ga. ChattasoOO a, Tenn ■, Feb. 14.1879. The S. S S. is giving good satisfaction. One gent.enian who had been confined to his lied six weeks with Syphilitic Rheumatism lias been cured entirely, and speaks in the highest praise of it. Cult’s A Berbv. THE SWIFT SPECIFIC COMPANY, Proprietors. Atlanta, Ga. Sold by 11 rwin& Hobhouse. Call for a copy of "Young Men> Friend.” no. 3.8 m. Notice to Fathers. Mothers. Sisters. Ilrolliers. I nicies. Aunts, amt all Relatives. Secure Certificates ou veitr relative's lives in the PIONEER MUTUAL ASSOCIATION of UNION CITY, INDIANA,— The cheapest Relief offered by any Associ ation in the United States. Cirtificates given on all males and females that are of sane mind and good health from 20 to 85 years of age at the following low rates: s*» for a SI,OOO Certificate. 810 for $2,000; sls for $3,000' $25 for $5,000; or a total of $H> to secure Certificates for $3,000 in the First Division ; SSO to secure Certificates for SIO,OOO in the Second Division; SSO to secure Certificates tor slo,lH>o in the Third Division; SSO to secure Certificates for SIO,OOO in the Fourth Division ; Yearly thereafter only $1 on each one thousand during life, with the following asses ments in each class and division: At the dpath of a member, $1.20 ou $1,000: $2 31 on $2,000; $3.35 ou $3,000; and $5.50 on $ >,OOO. All males and females from 05 to 85 veins of age, are respectfully requested to ncure certificates. Regular stock Insurance Companies do not insure over 05 years. Therefore, as this is your only chance for relief we advise you to accept fills great offer at once, as it is dangerous io delay. Remember, you have no risk to become a member of this association, as its officers have each given bond to the iiinuunt of ten thousand dollars for the faithful performance of their duties. Cal! on or address Fbaace X Kt’O, Agents, lm‘l. Dicalur, Ind.

Graj's Specific .Medicine. TRADE MARK fill Gskat TRADE MARK J. English R kmKl> V .111 UU f t 11--age iug cure for S* j/y seminal weak Wk Ljy lies**, Spermstorrhe >,I m tency.Jand BEFORE TAKIMO. lisc:Jt,VH ,h:l '*fTEß TARiRfi, ioliuw as a consequence ot Self-abuse; as loss < f memory. Universal Lassitude, I’ain in the Back, Dimness of Vision, Premature Old Age, and many other diseases that lead to Insanity, Consumption and a premature grave. USfF'till particular.- in our pamphlet, which we desire to send free by mail to ev. cry one. The Speciba Medicine is sold by all druggists at $1 per package, or 6 pack ages for i >, or will be sent free by mail on receipt of the mouey by addresriug THE GRAY MEDICINE CO. _ No. I<X> Main street. Batt tut, N. Y. For sale by Dorwin A Holihouse. Carry Ute S«w» to Mary. [hare a good Farm of 100 acres. 40 acres cleared, and 60 acres good timber, Jntiles east of Decatur. ill sell readable. B. JI. »tw

SMALL-POX, smiwoxi Now that the small-pox scare is all dead and buried, I am [prepared to show you the I . nicest line of DRY GOODS, .Vol ions, CLOTHING Hats, Caps, GROCERIES, &cEver brought to Decatur, and at astonishingly LOW PRICES

Please Hole the Folk 'ing: Folbvell all-wool Cashmere at 50 cents. Hats from 35c. to $4.00. Corsets from 50c. to SI.OO. Table linen, 25c. to 1.00. Towels, 10c, a pair. Brocade Dress Goods worth 25c. at 20c. Dress Goods from 7c. upwards. Nice style of Dress Ginghams at sc. and upwards. Nice lot of White Goods at 10c. and upwards. Silk Fringes from 45c. to SI.OO. Black Laces, 10c., 15c. and upwards. Curtain Laces, 12ic. and up wards.

Hose in endless varieties at sc. anti upwards. Fancy Buttons, of all styles, from sc. to 50. Piece Goods, single and double width, from 65c. to $5.00. Ladies Cloaking in double width. UlgheM Market Price Paid for Produce. James Edington. 1 Pecatur, April 14, 1881.

FLAX STRAW. How to cut it, How to cure it. To farmers of Adams and adjoining conties, who desire to harvest their Flax crop to the best advantage, I will offer the following advice: Cut your Flax earlier than you have been accustomed to. Have no fear about your seed not being ripe. It will mature to better advantage after it is cut than if it was growing. Use a mowing machine cut close to the ground; let it lay for two or three weeks. It will not mould or; sprout while laying in this condition more than if it was standing in the ground. When your seed has matured and you w ish to take up your flax to house, stack or take off’the seed, use a horse rake, in the early part of the day when the dew is on. Kake up about as much as you ci»n take care of the balance of the day. If you wish to take the seed off, clean a piece of ground about twenty feet square, near your ffax field. Commence tramping or rolling about 10 a. m. and you’ll get off your seed as fast as one team can haul it from the field. Slack your straw neatly. While your horses tramping, if you are going to have a rain storm, cover your seed heavy with tramped straw. Do not use a threshing machine to take eff the seed. 1 buy unwillingly lots of flax seed, at $4 and $3 per ton. Dark colored or swathrotted, and green straw that is spread out to rot, will be the most desirable and bring the highest price. The curing or rotting can be done on the farm. It will not cost in labor over fifty cents per ton and will he worth $2 per ton more than unrotted when brought to the factory. Price from $3 to per ton. I will not buy wet straw nor weeds. All information in recard to curing and rotting flax straw will be given at the fatory. Farmers having last year's crop will find market for it at the factory. THOMAS F. MY LOTT, Prop'r. Decatur, June 30. 4w

Dissolution of Co-Partnership. By mutual agreement we the undersigned have this day dissolved partnership. All parties knowing themselves indebted to us will please call at the Treasurer’s office and settle by cash or note. Thanking our friends who have in the past favored us with their patronage, we remain yours very truly. Conter & Holthouse. Decatur. June 13. 1881. New Firm. The undersigned having this day formed a co-partnership in the boot and shoe trade respectfully invite the leading public to call and examine their large and varied stock. Good goods at the lowest living prices will be their motto. Voolewede & Conte ii. Decatur. Ind., June 13, 1881. To the Public. Having this day formed a co-pait-ner ship to be known as Voglewede and Center, I request all parties knowing themselves indebted to me to call and settle by cash or note. Thanking my friends for past patronage and soliciting your favors in the future, 1 remain yours, J. 11. VoQLEWEDE.

Piles, Rectal Ulcers, Fissure, Polypus, Fistula Cured! No Cutting, No Ligating, No Pain. By Dr. A. B. Jamison who is permanently located in Decatur. Booms third and fourth doors in Odd Follows build ing. Tiles, Na Cure, No Pay, The worst cases cured without Knife, Clamp, Scissors, Heated Iron, etc. Without application of Acids, or injection of Acids that will produce Pain, Misery or Danger. In the majority of cases the treatment is Painless and go about your work immediately’after tieatment. I GUARANTEE THE CURE OF TILES EVERY time, and if I fail will return every cent paid and make you a present of One Hun drei> Dollars. Ulceration or the rectum. A fearful malady. It is often mistaken for a “Bad case of piles.” Many times, Womb, Kidney, Liver, Heart, Stomach, and Nervous troubles. If Ulceration is the cause of your poor health it will cost you nothing to kaow it. Consultation free to all. W hat is the cause of your poor health. General debility, Despondency, wrinkled face, complexion ash-color, torpid liver, Dyspepsia, poor memory, nervous prostration, inability to labor, constipation or coetiveuess, hard and slow movements of the bowels, pain in abdomen, numbness aching, soreness in legs amt over the body, weik and aching back, itching, smarting and burning in rectum at times, occasionally diarrhoea, bleeding and a little protrusion. Some or many of these few symptoms mentioned, may be present, if so, you, may be sure an enemy to health is with you. Write or send for circulars that you may get some idea of the misery Rectal troubles can cause. I can name many of my patients except those who requested mejnot toand when you have talked with them you will then say 1 have at no lime half told the misery caused by ulceration, Piles,Fistulas, etc. Office third and/ourfh doors in Odd Fellows Building, Decatur, Adams county, Indiana. A. B. J AMSSO.V. M. : Vol. 25 No. 14 if. TO NON-RESIDENTS. The state of Indiana, Adams County, Ss. In the Adams Circuit Court, September term, 1881. Martha A. Walters | vs. [■ No. 1,529, divorce. * William M. Walters J

It appearing from affidavit, filed in the above cutitied cause, that William M. Walters, the above named defendant, is a non-resident of the State of Indiana. Notice is therefore hereby given the said William M. Walters that he be and appear before the Hon, Judge of the Adams Circuit Court, on the first day of the next regular term thereof, to be holden at the courthouse in the town of Decatur, commencing on Monday. the 2Gtk of September, 1881, and plead by answer or demur to said complaint; or the aime will be heard and determined in his absence. H’itnes? my name, and seal of »aid court hereto affixed, this 28th day of June, 1881. N. BLACKBUEN, Clerk. June 40,1881.- -3w

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, JULY 21, 1881.

THE MANIAC OF THE WILDERNESS. A Thrilling Story. BY PAUL PASTNOR. There were three of us in the party, and we were in camp at Bullet Pond, in the great New York willderness. For two nights we had been lying in wait near a patch of lily-pads without a snatch of sleep or a spark of fire, in hopes that a deer would come down to browse on the succulent leaves or to cool his sides in the clear water. Tracks were plenty around the pond, and apparently fresh. They looked for all the world like prosaic pig-tracks; but we knew well that the aldermanic porker would never have wandered so far from civilization as this.

Now the third night was drawing on, and neither sight nor sound of deer had we obtained. "Third time and out,” said Tom, wrapping himself in his blanket, and leaning back against the trunk of a great spruce, “If we don’t get a shot to-niglit, I move we pull up stakes and start in the morning. It's getting dolefully monotonous, this night-work.” “Agreed!” We cried. And, imitating Tom's example, we rolled ourselves into our blankets, laid our guns beside us, and propping ourselves against convenient tree-trunks, prepared for a night of watching. For a long time it was silent as death—no stir in the air, no voice or beast or bird. Ilad we dared whisper to one another ive should all have said the same thing: “There is a storm brewing." But in such utter silence even a whisper would have been heard clearly on the other side of the pond; so we sat in the blackness like mummies hugging our thoughts for comfort, and starting with rapid heart-beats at every swish of a twig relaxing in the forest, or leap of restless trout in the sedgy confines of the pond. It must have been getting on towards midnight when 1 caught myself emerging from a chimerical doze, and nodding my head to a preparatory relapse. A faint ray of moonlight struggled through the clouds and the dark branches, and revealed to me Tom and Ed., with their faces upturned and heads leaned back against the mossy tree-trunks, asleep. Tom had apparently raised his gun to his knees just before dropping off, and I noticed that it had slipped down, and that the muzzle Had struck into the mold. “Careless fellow!" I thought. “If he should wake up and see a deer, he would shoot with the barrels of his gun clogged up, and it would burst, sure. I must wake him.

So resolved, I began to unwind the blanket from my legs, when suddenly a noise from the opposite side of the pond caused me to pause and grasp my gun with trembling fingers. First a twig snapped, then a deep sigh stole across the water and died away in the forest behind me. Startled and perplexed, I began to search my mental repository to discover whether I ever read or heard anything about deer sighing; but no such information occurred to me. Again a deep drawn breath swept over the pond, and I heard stealthy feet approaching the opposite shore. Now was my chance for g’ory! I, the least pretentious sportsman of the party, might shoot a deer while j Tom and Fid., rival and mighty Nim rods, were snoozing peacefully within ten feet of the nozzle of my gun. I shook like a leaf in the excitement of the moment. I saw the bushes stirring on the opposite side of the bank, and was just cocking both barrels to fire, when the fitful moon plunged into a bank of cloud, and in a moment all was black as the grave. I could have cried with vexation; but, while my gun was yet knocking at my shoulder, forth sailed the moon again, brighter than ever, something was crouching in the shadow on the opposite shore, a patch of blackness more intense and concise than the surrounding gloom. In a moment my cheek was hugging the smooth, cool gun-stock: my fingers trembled on the trigger; I took a long, nervous aim and tired. I shall never forget what followed as long as I live. The moon was quenched in horror, the first sighing of the storm filled the sombre trees, and the branches tossed at me like angry arms; but; more terrible than everything else —the most terrible round I ever heard —a shriek, rugged and fierce, and longdrawn, pierced to iny very soul, and seemed to cleave assunder life and sense. Such a cry! God grant you may never have a conception of it. Tom and Kd. sprang from slumber, and we groped our way towards one another in the dark, and caught hands in mortal terror. “John, Ed.—are you here?” gasped Tom. “What is the matter? —what was that awful cry? My lins refused to move in answer,

and we crouched together, Tom, Ed. and I, at the foot of the tree, listening with bated breath. Again the horrid scream peeled out, and we heard the bushes on the opposite side of the pond violently swaying, as if something was pushing its way hurriedly through them. At the same time sharp pantings and low cries assailed our ears. “Oh God, it is coming round the pond!” cried Ed. in a hoarse whisper. “What shall we do? Where shall we run?" All three of us started to our feet in terror, and stood grasping at one another’s garments, liked terrified children. The creature, whatever it was, had rounded the end of the pond, and was approaching us. Short, blood-curdling cries came to us through the increasing rush of the wind in the trees —inarticulate threats, more fearful because we knew not from what kind of a being they proceeded. Tom started away a few steps, as if he would recover his gun but came shivering back again; he eould not advance alone into the face of the mysterious pursuer.

“Let’s take hold of hands and run!” I cried. With Tom on one side and Ed. on the other, we plunged into the pathless forest, not knowing whither they went. The quick steps and crashing of bushes behind us ceased for a moment, as the pursuer reached our little camp, and with unspeakable horror we heard a wild human laugh echo through the wilderness. “It's a maniac!” gasped Tom. A weakness like that of death settled upon our limbs; but still we staggered on, separating every now and then by intervening trees, but always seeking one another again in the gloom and clasping hands. By the merest chance, not knowing whither we went; we stumbled into the old lumber-trail leading down the valley. Taking heart somewhat at this, we separated into Indian file, and plunged forward at the top of our speed. It was not long, however, before we heard the hot cries of our unearthly pursuer in the rear, and by their sudden change from indistinctness to vivid clearness we knew that the maniac had struck the trail, and that there was no hope any longer of evading him. Our cnly chance lay in flight; and as we had nearly a quarter of a mile start when we reached the trail, and were good runners, besides having on the wings of dread, we might have reached the little settlement of K , five miles down the valley, had not an accident occurred. Tom stepped on a loose stone and wrenched his ankle so severely that he could not rise. For a moment Ed. stood irresolute. Tom and I were brothers; and, of course, I would have died before leaving him alone to his fate. I cast myself down by his side and in piteous accents implored onr friend not to leave us. At this, Ed.’s better nature conquered his selfishness, and he displayed a courage and presence of mind truly remarkable. Never seemed crisis more urgent. The thunder had commenced its ominious mutterings; flashes of pallid lightning illumed the lonely solitude, and then swathed all things in impenetrable gloom; and above all the unearthly influences of the hour that unearthly shriek and maniacal laugh, those rapid footfalls and furious leaps of the madman, echoed in our ears.

“We must get out of the path quick! cried Ed. “Here, John, you take Tom's legs.” I did as he hade, and together we lifted our disabled companion and carried him in among the dark trees and undergrowth. A moment or two of terrible suspense ensued, and then the maniac came leaping down the path As he passed our place of concealment he uttered an awful scream, and the last vestage of strength fled our limbs. We could not have raised a finger in defense had he flung himself upon us A full minute passed, and still the maniac kept on his wild course down the valley. “We are safe!” murmered Tom. “Thank God!'

But hark! The wild cries and frantic footfalls have ceased. lias he gone out of hearing so soon or is he—coming back? We scarce dared to breath. Tom's ear was elose to the ground. Suddenly he moaned and covered his face. Stealthy steps were heard ascending the path, rapid mutterings and snatches of guttural laughter. The maniac was returning. He is close at hand, snuffing the air with hungry nostrils—now he stops, parts the bushes by the side of the path, and crawls through them on his hands and knees, nosing the ground like a dog. He is on our way, surely but slowly searching us out! The maniac crept up until he was close upon us. A flash of lightning revealed his face. It was like the face of an animal, senseless, and yet sensitive. A shrink’eg timidity dwelt in

the large, distended, innocent eyes. He sidled away on his hands and feet like a frightened brute, snuffing us distrustfully. then rose to a stooping posture, glided out of sight, pushing the ground with his gaunt, dangling hands. We heard him chattering and laughing in the distance; then all was quiet again. The rain fell in torrents, the wind roared, trees fell crushing around us; but we lay on the cold, wet ground, with a strange sense of peace, security and comfort. We had been delivered from a horrible fear.

“Yes, yes,’ said the old guide, when he heard our story, “that’s the wild man of the woods, sure as blazes. He hasn’t been seen in these parts for years. He’s a terrible-looking object, to be sure; but bless you, boys, he wouldn’t touch man, woman or child any more than a big-eye rabit would. If you run he’ll chase you, of course, just as a kitten chases a ball of yarn; but he's nothing but a poor, senseless critter —he ain’t got no sting!”

SON OF I'HE EARL OF

MAR.

A Canadian Mechanic Lays Claim to an Earldom and

$100,000,000. (London Special.)

After years of patient searching, amid the difficulties which poverty has raised, a workman in the Great Western Railway car shops in this city has traced up what seems to be an indisputable claim to one of the richest estates in all Scotland. The greatest interest has been awakened by the romantic history of the man who has thus been elevated into prominence, and there is every probability that he will soon be put in possession of his rights. It may be remembered that some years ago the Earl of Mar died without leaving a direct heir to his immense estate, and by a right of succession a nephew, Lord Kellie, assumed the title and property of the dead nobleman, valued at $100,000,000. Now however, it has been discovered that the Earl had a son, and that son is believed to be John Francis Erskine of this city. The tracing up of the title has necessarily been slow and unsatisfactorily, from the fact that Mr. Erskine, was poor and hampered by a family, and men who could have helped h : m doubted his story. The facts of the

case are briefly these: In 1825, two years before the marriage of the Earl of Mar to the daughter of Lord Montech, a male child was born to the lady, who afterwards became its legitimate mother by her marriage with its father. When an infant, however, the boy was secretly given into the care of a poor but respectable family, whom the Earl paid well for service rendered. Later on, when the little fellow had grown up to be five or six years of age, he was placed under the care of a man named Campbell, and sent to Canada. His guardian frequently told him in later years, that he was the son of Scotland’s noblest Earls, and that he should some day be placed in the possession of documents that would enable him to go home and live in luxury. The old man seemed under a strong pledge, however, not to reveal the parentage of his ward, and, although he broke his promise so far as to intimate on many occasions that the young man was the heir to the Earldom of Mar he never allowed the documentary proofs to go out of his hands. He said that all would be left in proper shape at.his death. A few years ago however the old man died very suddenly, without leaving the needed documents for the establishment of his ward’s claim to the property of the dead Earl. Later on, while excavations were being made in an outhouse on the Campbell homestead, a bottle was found with many letters in it from the Earl of Mar referring to his son.

This seemed to be all the proof necessary; but, in addition to that, Mr. Erskine has visited Scotland quietly and found the people who had taken care of him when an infant and handed him over to Campbell. The papers held by them, and also those found in the bottle set forth marks by which the heir could always be known, and these the claimant undoubtedly bears. His resemblance to the late Earl is also striking, despite the changes which hard work has made, that friends of the nobleman have no difficulty in identifying Mr. Erskine as the son of the Earl. Articles of gold and silverware, as well as a ring, are in the presumptive heir’s possession bearing the initials of his mother and lather. Leading lawyers in this country and Scotland hold out the strongest encouragement to Mr. Erskine, and men of means are offering to unite in a joint stock company to establish the claim if a bond is given to pay a certain percentage on their investments. According to the out look, Mr. Erskine’s working days are

over, and his installment as the Earl of Mar remains only a matter of time. He is being visited by thousands, and his story as it is learned, awakens the ccpest interest. Farm Training. The farm is the best place in the world to raise boys. Most of the successful business men of cities were farm boys. The habits formed of early rising, constant employment of body or mind in a useful way, economy, truthfulness, honesty and virtue, are just what are needed to make sterring, go-ahead, successful men in all depart ments of life. A gentleman sent the following let-, ter to one hundted men, standing at the head of financial, commercial, professional and educational interests of an eastern city : My Dear Sir —l desire to find out, for the benefit of my boys, how the leading men of this city spent their boyhood. Will you be kind enough to tell me?

1. Whether your home for the first fifteen years of your life was on a farm in a village, or in a city, and, 2. Whether you are accustomed during any part of that period to engage in any kind of work when not in school? I should be glad, of course, to have you go into particulars as fully as you are disposed to do; but I do not wish to tax your patience, and I should be greatly obliged for a simple answer to these two questions. Eighty-eight replied. Os these eighty eight men, twelve spent the first fifteen years of their life in the city, twelve in villages, and sixty-four were farmers’ boys. But of the twenty-four who lived in villages and cities, onefourth were practically farmer's boys, for they lived in the vicinity and did the work of farmers’ boys. One of these village boys said : “I learned to hoe, dig and mow, and to work whether I liked it or not. 1 went to school in winter, and worked nights and mornings for my board. Another said: “I used to work away from home on a farm in the summer and fall. In the winter, when going to school, we three boys used to work up the wood for winter use.” This was the story of others. So that 70 out of 88—fourfifths—had farm life training.

Did the few boys on the city list have an easy time? One studied law when out of school. He had not much play. The others were poor boys, children of the working classes, in needy circumstances, accustomed to hard work from their earliest years. One said he was “generally employed in summer months and during vacations in doing any work that offered. I’our were newsboys One said “the last of connection with the press he earned one hundred dollars before breakfast. ’ Another, that “he paid his own way since eight years of age, without any assistance except board from my Sth to my 11th year. Where are the boys to day who were at the same time going to school and amusing themselves? Where are they ? We know who the 9G per cent, of sue cessful business men were —farmers boys, or poor and hard working town boys. Pretty Good. —John Bacon, La portc, Ind., writes: “Your ‘Spring Blossom’ is all you cracked it up to be. My dyspepsia has all vanished; why don’t you advertise it; what allowance will you make if I take a dozen bottles, so that I could oblige my friends occasionally?” Price 50 cents, trial bottles 10 cents. When There’s a Will There’s a Way. —Anyone who has the will to try Thomas' Ecleetric Oil, will surely find the way to robust health, in case of bronchial effections, sore throat, pains, &c.; and as an internal remedy, it is invaluble.

Don't Throw vp the Sponge.— When suffering humanity are enduring the horrors of dyspepsia, indigestion, nervous and general debility, they are too often inclined to throw up the sponge and resign themselves to fate. We say, don't do it. Take Burdock Blood Bitters the unfailing remedy. Price SI.OO, trial site 10 cents. Frightful Misery.—Mr. M m. Pomeroy, Bangor, Me., writes: “I have for a long time suffered with continual constipation, making my life a misery, and causing headache and frightful cramps. Mr. Thomason (who has been lately visiting in Buffalo.) induced me to try the Spring Blossom. It has perfectly cured me. Price 50 cents, trial size 10 cents. Visible Improvement.—Mr. Noah Bates, Elmira, N. Y., writes: ‘ About four years ago I had an attack of bil lious fever, and never fully recovered. My digestive organs were weakened, and I would be completely prostrated for days, After using two bottles of your Burdock blood bitters an improve ment was so visible that I was astonished, I can now. though til years of age. Ido a fair and reasonable dayd work j Price il.dO, trial site IO cetin.

The Man Who Got 'Em. Three or four years ago a citizen o Bronson s'reet called at the Gratton avenue station to say' to the captain that he suspected a plot on the part of his wife to elope with a neighbor of his, who was not only a married man, but the father of several children. What makes you suspect such a plot?’ asked the captain. Well, my wife has been kinder pick in’ up her duds, asking about the trains and try ing to get me to go away on a visit. ‘And about this neighbor?’ ‘Well, he and my wife are talking over the fence about half the time and throwing kisses at each other the other half. I don't care to raise a row over this thing, but I'd kinder like to stop 'em from runnin’ away.’ ■Well, you must take your own way to fustrate it, unless you go to the police justice. Be careful, however, anger or jealousy may get you into trouble.’

‘Oh, I'll be careful,’ was the calm assurance, as the citizen went bis way, to be heard of no more until yesterday evening. Then he called a passing patrolman into the house to ask further advice. ■You see, they had it ail planned to elope,’ he explained. ‘Yes.’ ‘But I got ’em.’ ‘iiow.’ He took the lamp and led the way to the woodshed. The neighbor, dressed in his Sunday suit, was tied up in one corner, and the recreant who occupied an empty dry goods box in the other. ‘Got ’em last night at 9 o’clock,’ said the husband, 'and 1 ve put in the whole day telling 'em what I think of such business. Guess I'd better let ’em off now, hadii t I. The officer thought so, and the neighbor was ieleased, led to the door, and the husband said : ‘Xow you trot, and if you ever try to run away with my wife again 111— I’ll be hanged if I don't go over and tell your wife about it !' He then turned to his wife, untied the cords and said : ‘I guess you feel ashamed of this, and there ain't no need to say auy more about it. I aiu t very mad this time, but if you try it again there's no knowing what 1 may do.' ‘Well!' gasped the officer, as he drew a long breath. •Well, didn't I get em?’ chuckled the husband, in proud delight. ‘I may look like a spring chicken, but I’m no fool, and don’t you forget it.

Gymnastics. ‘Say, stranger, kin I git a fight in yer? he asked, looking cautiously around and wetting his hands m a premonitory sort of way. ■What kind of a fight would you like?’ asked the bar keeper, eyeing him gloomily. ‘Pistol, knife, fist, tooth, anything. I want to live up to the prevailin style. Suit yourself, pard.ie.'.’ ‘Well,’observed the host, picking ua base ball bat, ‘how l tins suit Like to try something in this line? ‘Haven't yer got a sword, or a clcav* er, or a buzz saw, or sumthin’ that yer \ can rely onto if we git close together? Ain't there some weapon that goes more into the gore business?’ ‘This will do me,’ replied the barkeeper waltzing over the bar and slamming the pugnacious visitor against the wall. ‘Don't need anything better than this, and he banged him across a beer table. ‘Got enough?’ ‘I ain’t got started yit,' said the stranger, as he lifted him over the stove. Don't git impatient. 111 , warm up in a second.” and he hoisted ‘ his antagonist over the bar. ‘Jist in- | dulge these yer false starts; I'll go under the string for a heat in a minute,’ and he hauled the barkeeper out by

the car and broke a half dozen chairs with him. ‘l’ll rouse up pooty quick now. Gimme a little time,’ and he danced a hornpipe on his foe and then pitched him through a back door. ‘Now I'm feelin' the inspiration! Whoop!’ and he kicked his enemy under the porch. ‘Hi, stranger! Ain't this fruit? Talk about vegetables! What's lamb and peas to this?’ and he tire ! the unhappy barkeeper down cellar. •What was your object in wanting to fight me?' asked the wvlloped barkeeper, as he crawled out and set the bottle and glass on the counter. ‘Yer sec pardner? said the stranger, tilling a glass to the brim, and ho.uiug it between his eyes and the light, ‘v r see Ive only been married a manti and 1 haven't been home for a wee . and I wanted to ba warmed up iuto trim for 'the ni itmee. There s four barrooyrstwi.it here an I my house and by the time 1 git tltir pot lid- an 1 flatirons will only u- an app’tiz.r f». me. Married man! pardner. 7 ’ ‘No,’ replied the bar keeper, shoyib ; the bottle towards lii.-> late euemv. I'.a i n.it but my father v, i . 1 l.nvtj hj„ pt A.:ozWy.. i,/

NO 16.