Decatur Democrat, Volume 26, Number 34, Decatur, Adams County, 24 November 1882 — Page 4
OVER Tire RIVER. BI NANCY PRIEST. Over the river they beckou to me, Loved ones who’ve crossed on the further side; The eleam of their snowy robes I see, But their voices are lost in the rushing tide; There’s one with ringlets of sunny gold, And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue; He crossed in the twilight gray and cold. And the pala mist hid him from mortal view, We saw not the angels who met him there, The gates of the city we could not see, Over the river -over the river— My brother stands waiting to welcome me. Ove- the river the boatman pale Carried another, the household pet; Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale, Darling Minnie! I see her yet. he crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands, And fearlessly entered the phantom bark; We felt it glide from the silver sands. And all our snn-hine grew strangely dark. V e ku w slie is safe ( n the ether side. Where all the ransomed and angels be; Over the river the mystic river — My childhood's idol is waiting for me. For none return from tho«e quiet shore* W o cross with the boatman cold and i>ale; We hear the dip of the golden osrs, And catch a g eam of the snowy sail; And lo! they have passed from our yearning hearts. Who cr ss the *troam and are gone for aye, We may not sunder the veil apart, T .‘at hides from on: vision the gates of day; We only know that their barques no more Mav sail with us ver life’s s ormy sea; Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen sh re, They watch, and beck n, and wait for me. And I sit and think when the sunset a gold Is. flushing river and bill and sh re, I shall one day stand by the water cold. And list for the sound f the boatman's car; I shall watch for a gleam of the flapp ng sail, I shall h ar the bo it as it gai s th * strand, I shall pa s from - iix.it with the l>oatman pale, To th • better shoie of the spiiit land; I ku w the loved who have gone before, A d joyfully swe t will the m eting be, When over the riv. r the p a eful river— The angel of death shall carry ms. A MYSTERY. I. Roscoe Anthon, am a book-seller. My friend, Arnold Percy, is a cashier in a bank. Our friendship dates back to boyhood and will last as long as life does. ’ We are not very old; lam 30 and he is two years younger. We are both well to do in the world. There is sc ircelv a scheme for the material advancement of the city in which we live in which we have not a direct money interest. We each own a little—not very much—of the stock of the bank in which my friend holds a position. This is our oldest venture and it pays well. We each own st ck—more this time—in the water-works and pumping machinery by which the city is supplied with water. We are quiet and steady in our habits. I have the reputation of being a good business man—in books; he—in money. But most men have enthusiasms outside of business. We have. In fact, we have two. We room in the same house, on the same floor and on exactly opposite sides of the hall. Aly room is open to him at any time and his is to me. But in the interests of electrical HP.ifkKMX* uph amstrnment of ilia costly Ixirul nn nnr respective tables and a “line” between our rooms. Beside this we have telephonic communication. A queer freak, you sav. So lie it. AVe enjoy it, can ail' rd it, and we have it. Rare books, old and new, which treat of either electrical or psychological questions find their way to our tables and are read and discussed. We amuse ourselves for hours together with our instruments. Then we will meet in the room of one or the other to read, to smoke, to talk and to—yes, let me confess it, to write. For we are each at work on a book. Mine is not a bookseller's catalogue. It is not a guide to read or study. I will confess again; it is a book on dreams. And -Arnold Percy, who will never write anything remarkable on finance, is making a very readable book on telegraphic communication.
We are too good friends to be selfish. Arnold will talk an en’ire evening on what pleases me best. He records his dreams for me and helps explain them. That is, he di es this when he has any dreams. We are both too sound sleepers to dream much. I, on the other hand, help him in every way in my power. In the preface of my book there are two fundamental statements which I will copy here. They are as follows: “It mav help in our study of dreams to assert they are the result of definite, even if not understood, causes, and the study of a dream should include the study of the day before the night during which the dream occurs. “As it is difficult to tell just when sleep (and consequently dreaming) begins and ends, we should study all events which are closely connected with a dream in the light of the science of dreamy. ” I will commence then with the morning of a certain day and relate, in considerable detail, some of the events ol that day. Arnold had told me the night before that he should rise early to write a few pages in his book. We had retired late, and had left our doors open in <rder to get more air during tftrt? IJUV VllUll WU3 WUVXWA3© ble. I opened my eyes just before daylight. In the room objects which were lighted from the window alone were in ol>se irity. But a flood of gaslight pou ed in at my open door from the room m which my friend was hard at work. “Up with the birds, aren’t you?” slid I. And certainly the birds were singing in a pleasant manner outside. “Hold on. I want to try an experiment. Look toward the door.” “All right.” From my place in bed I could not see into Arnold's room, but as Hooked the decre .se in brightness showed me that lie had turned his gis almost but not quite out. He turned it on again, then almost out,and so on ; sometimes slow ly, sometimes quickly, the light would be extinguished. I saw in a moment, although the idea was a new one to me; calling a slow cutting off of the gas a dash, and a quick one a dot, my friend was saying to me: “Good morning, my dear friend Roscoe.” I answered him by a series of raps on the wall. He went on with his writing. I rose and dressed. I don’t remember much about breakfast, but after breakfast we walked down to the new pumping works. We examined the system quite thoroughly, learned how “fire pressure”—that is, the pressure when the hydrants are used for fire purposes—could b.> maintained, and returned to the work of the day with an increased idea of the value of the interest we had in the waterworks. My day was a busy one. Arnold’s day was a busy one. My day was quite like other days, except iu one or two particulars. I hail a large quantity of books come by express, and so attended to t hem instead of going home to dinner. We live far out in the edge of the city, and I could not spare th • time to go. Arnold’s day was quite like other days, too, as I have learned since. He sent me a note from the. bank after his return from dinner, saying that he would come to th • bookst ure after banking hours, that is, after 3 o'clock, and asking me if I cou d possibly leave my work in the hands of clerks and take a drive with him into the country. I sent back word that I would go. I was glad he was coming for me. for the bank was a long distance from the store and the day was terribly hot. At 3 o'clock I was ready, but Arnold did not oome. At 4 he sent another note: “A mistake of a few cents somewhere' is giving us lots of trouble. I shall let the rest go in a little wh-le, but I must suv until the books aje all right. Go without me.”
I sent one of the clerks out for a carriage, and I drove out into the country. I got away from the hot air of the city. I saw the green grass and the pure water, and the flowers and the blue sky. But I was too busy thinking to enjoy I them much. I was running over in my i mind the points which I intended to I include in the next two orthree chapters of my book. I returned to the city at 7 o’clock and saw one of those unfortunate things occur which are altogether too frequent in large cities. A large man, with a peculiar face, which I need not describe, stood on a street corner. Another man came up. Words passed between them. The large man knocked the other man : down, and ran away just as the police arrived. A window flew up, and some one in- I side (a woiu.iii I judged, although the curtain hid all but the hands) stood with hands tightly clasped for a moment. : Then, b ating them up and down in the air in a frantic manner for a few sec- , units, the person disappeared with a , shrill cry of “He p! Murder!” It wasn’t murder, though. The man j was senseless for a few minutes, but be- i fore I drove on was well enough to | walk away. I went home. Arnold had not arrived yet. I ate my supper, went to my room and spent the early evening writing in my book, i remember that I wrote on the remarkable sensibility of the ear in some dreams and on the interpretation of a series of dreams. Arnold had not returned when I retired at about midnight. It is, perhaps, no wonder I dreamed. I remember looking out on the hot sultry night. I remember saying to myself that it would ! rain soon. I remember closing my window to guard against the coming storm. To help cool the room I opened the watercock. I remember looking at my watch, which pointed to five minutes to 12, and I am certain of nothing more, save the getting into bed, until I awoke again. To be sure, it seems as though I lay for a time iu luxury of perfect restfulness, and then sank slowly to sleep. But, as my dream was of something happening in bed, I shall not attempt to say when it began. I thought it was morning. I opened my eyes. I wondered why the birds were not singing. Aly door slowly opened. A flood of light poured in. It lessened and brightened, and I read from the flashes, “Help! murder!” I awoke to find my door shut, no trace of there having been any gas lit; and I saw th it the stoim was almost upon ns. The thunder could not be heard yet, but the lightning was very vivid. With such flashes lighting my room at short intervals, I found no difficulty in accounting for my dream. Aly watch pointed to just 12. T olanj QrrQin av»<l T «ws dream. There was a knock at my door. I opened it (in my dream) and found a note from my friend. It seemed as though I left my bed to go to the d< >or; but, once I was in the door, it was the door of my store. It seemed to be as bright as day in the store, but dark as night outside. Some of the darkness of the night seemed to dritt “in around me as I stood in the open door and read the note which the messenger hail brought me. The note was an exact copy of the one which I had really received from my friend that day when he made the appointment to ride into the country. Then I said to the messenger: “But he’s being murdered! He wants help! I’ll go to the bank.” I sent for a carriage and drove to the bank. The shutters were closed iu front, but a light shone out of a window cn the side which opened on a narrow passage between the bank and an empty building next to it. I knew this window opened from the room in which my friend would work if at the bank at night. I passed the narrow passage, when suddenly a hand was thrust from the window. I recognized the cuff-button as belonging to my friend. Up and down, up and down, now with a long sweeping motion, nowquick and sharp. And again the silent message was “Help! murder!" I sprang down the passage to the front of the bank to call the driver, and when I looked up to speak to him I saw the face of the man who had struck down the one at the street corner that afternoon. And when he saw me he lashed his horses into a run ov r I the pavement that made a noise like | thunder. Yes, a noise like thunder. For I i awoke then, and awoke with the noise | of real thunder from the storm outside I sounding in my ears. I lighted my gas, l went to the watereock at my washstand ai d took a drink of water. I was not frightened. I was not more than I a aiuuivu my uream ror a I nrnute; certainly not more than two. Anxiety for my friend—needless, though natural: the blow I had seen given; the hands I had seen at the window: the sit nation of things at the bank; it was certainly an easy dream to explain. I looked out toward the bank, a good tliree miles from where I stood, and sent out a wish for the safety of my beloved friend. The storm was coming. Great gusts of wind roared around the house. The darkness was intense. I took another drink, thought of my stock iu the i water-works, thought there ought not ■ be another water-cock open in the I whole city at that time, and that the I great pumps might be working for me alone in the silence of the night. I did not shut off the water, but looked at my watch, which indicated ten minutes past 12, and then got into bed again : without turning out the gas. I remember thinking of some of the many incidents with which I meant to i fortify my position and arguments with . reference to the increased acuteness of I the hearing during some dreams. Then I slept and d: earned ag an. I dreamed | I stood in the pumping-works and I watched the ponderous machinery j move. Only there was no regularity now, as there had been in the daytime. I The great piston which I watched would make now a long sweeping stroke, and again a stroke like a flash of light. And the long and short strokes, translated into dashes and dots, said over and over and over again: i “Help! Murder! Help! Murder! Help! Murder!” I could see the movement as I had seen Arnold's hand, but this time I could hear it, too. A murmur or pulse, not nnlike the noise made by a steam engine running almost silently, now long, now short, saying to the ear what the graceful movements of the piston said to the eye: “Help! Murder!” I started wide awake in a moment. I hope no one will t>e cruel enough to joke when I say I seemed to lie all ears. It is certainly no joking matter. The storm had come at last, and was dashing in fury against the window and wall. I put in the real dash of the rain for the movement of the piston I had heard in my dream. But 1 heard a dozen mice in the wainscot, in different parts of the house. I had not heard th«n before, and the noise of t lie storm seemed deafening. Over in the next street I could hear a man walking. I could not have heard him on a quiet day. Despite the thick walls between, I heard something fall in the next house. And above the noise of the storm—no, above it would jfe trit, in spite of the noise of the awful tempest, there was a sound
like a breath -a sob—or the thought of a sob►—intangible almost, dreamlike almost, but real for all that. Now, like a memory of a long-drawn breath caught quickly, it pulsed on and on. I was never wider awake in my life. My | mind was never keener. But 1-could hear, with waking ears this time, the pulses and puffs which spelled “Help! Murder!" For one terrible moment my heart seemed to stand still. After that I never failed in courage and scuse during the whole of that terrible night. I sprang from bed and dressed with a rapidity of which I should have thought myself incapable, and that terrible message was repeating itself in my ears all the time. I dropped my revolver into my pocket, ti ok my heavy ca e, put on my waterproof eoat, shut off the water from the water-cock, and tho sounds stopped. I open'd it, and the message began again : “Help! Murder! Help! Murder!” I bent over and looked at the water as it fell into the basin. I half fancied that the stream was not steady, that it diminished a little and then increased again. I could not tell positively anyth ng about it. I could not say that the plash it made lessened and strengthened, nor could I w lien 1 found by several trials that the message came while the cock was open, and stopped when it was closed. That was all I found out then and it is all I know now. I passed down stairs, noticed that the clock in the hall pointed to twenty minutes past 12, and stepped out. It was a terrible night. The wind blew a gale. The rain was a torrent. The lightning was over and the sky was blackness. A livery stable was within two blocks; a police station a block behind that. It was a terrible walk to the stable, but I got there at last. The owner knew me but said I could not have a team on such anight: no driver would goon such an occasion. I was desperate, and asked him to name some price, any price, for which he would furnish me a team and driver for the rest of the night. I had no theory, no definite thought; I only knew that 1 must and would know why Arnold Percy was not home yet. I gave him ?2t> the moment it was demanded, and I put $lO into the hand of the driver when I ordered him to the police station. I did not tell anvthing at the station more than that Air. Percy had not returned, and that I wanted to go to the bank and find ont why. I could not relate a series of dre mis as a reason for sending a police officer three miles in a terrible storm, and, as for the message I knew I had heard, who would believe it? And where did it come from? I expected to make litile or no impression on the officer in charge. I was disappointed. I asked for a policeman to go with me to the bank, and I got four, including the officer in charge “Air. Percy has not come home. There are suspicions characters in the city. AVe wili take every cliance.” I told the driver that if he got us to the bank within a certain time wliich I named he should have $lO more. He got us there in less time than I had mentioned. Tlie.frcmt of the bank was closed and dark. The officer in charge thanked me for the trouble I had taken and the interest I had shown. “Your friend has doubtless gone elsewhere to sleep,” he said, “and we have come here for nothing. I don't mind that. The way for a man to rise is to always do his duty. The policeman who does not hesitate to go on the merest chance is the one who will find baffled crime and personal promotion at the end of his road some day. I thank you again.” “Will you bear with me one minute?" I asked. “I want to look at a side window.” AVe went together, and in another moment we knew we had not come for nothing. The window next the empty building was wide open! “Watch here," he said, and was gone. He was back in a half-minute with all the men but one, that one having lieen stationed at the front door of the bank. “We must be ready and follow one another as closely as possible. Have yonr revolvers ready. Don’t allow a man to escape, but kill no man unless it is absolutely necessary. All ready. One moment first,” and he turned to me. “Do you suspect Air. Percy?” he asked. “No, sir. Abetter man never lived.” “I think so, too,” he said; “but there is this to remember; we are going to find some’hing wrong in here. Keep yonr head whatever happens." “I will,” said I; “go ahead." “All ready? Be quick and quiet. This window does not open at once into I the main banking-room. We must enter that together if circumstances allow. _ _ i vov«»pt:, i vriloW me,” and he sprang through the window. In a minute we were all in and standj ing where we could see the door to ihe vault, and a little of the floor iu front I it. Four men, surrounded by a splendid ! outfit of tools, were at work at the i door, which held the wealth of the i bank from them. “Ready,” in a whisper, “one—two—three,” and we were upon them. There were heavy revolvers on the counters and desks, but, fortunately for im cuncemea, not- one was in reach of the burglars. “We surrender,” said a sullen voice, and 1 turned to look for my friend, I leaving the officers to attend to the men they had captured. He was fastened in his office-chair by a rope passed around his waist. His hands were fastened behind him with a , cord slack enough to allow him some I freedom of motion. He was backed up against the water-cock which served to supply the officers of the bank with drinking water. The whole arrangement was quite low; the cate tm i'i was small; the water was let or by 1 pressing down a piece of metal which came back to its place when the press--1 lire was removed. Arnold was not j gagged, but he did not speak. I saw why in a moment. He was under the influence of chloroform. I stopped I just before I reached his side. This is what I saw: Arnold Percy’s hand was on the metal piece which I have mentioned, and he was using it much as he would have used the key on a telegraph instrument. And while I watched him he was telegraphing over and over again, “Heip! Murder! Help! Murder!” * Arnold Percy fell asleep late that evening, with the window open and his head on the sill. He knew no more until we had him free from the influence ; of the chloroform which had been give- , en him while he slept, and a aiu from time to time, as the robbers feared he would regain consciousness. The burglars have more than ten years , to serve yet before they will break open another bank. In answer to questions which I asked them, they said my friend “kept up an infernal racket with the watercock the whole time.” Your humble servant Roscoe, Anthon, dear reader, has his theory of this whole matter. He will not insult your penetration and intelligence by st ding it at greater length than the story itself -ras done. Nor will he off nd you by a solution which might differ from youi own. Two of the burglar- were the two men who quarreled at the comer, fc all the questions that may arise because of that fact, I can only answer coinoid eace.
SWEPT AWAY. The "lencrt honing shadows" fall to-dar, And, like the leaves from autumn treat, Fuui wrongs by chill November’s brees® Are swept away. The touch old imsses, grim and errav. T< rn bv their own machines’ big whaeW» And trampled under voter's hee s, Are swept The men who served the State for pay, The men of tricks and trades and dea» : AV ho engineered the jobs and steals, Are swept away. They faced the polls in stern array, But found the voting thousands there, And with the dust that filled the air Were swept away. The quiet people said their say; Their ballots fell 1 ke autumn rain, And chaff that claimed the p ace of grain Were swept aw ay. Wher-’ now are those w ho late held sway, The bosses, proxies, fo-geries. The complicated frauds and lies? All swept away. In vain the vultures sought their prey; The surplus fiends that soared < o high. Death- tricken in a cloudy sky, Were swept away. New hopes the peop’c take to-day, I or many public rogues and th eves, Like autumn dust or withered leaves. Are swept away. —New York Sun. The Battle of the Pyramids. The world has heard much of Na poleon Bonaparte, and, among othei things, of his battle of the Pyramids. It was doubtless a great battle, and before it began Napoleon remarked to liii troops that “forty centuries were looking down upon them.” But Napoleon’s battle of the Pyramids was not a patching to the battle of the pyramids which took place in the United States ol America on the 7th of November, 1882. In that great battle the Democratic pyramid upset the Republican pyramid, burst it, and gave it the appearance ol an lowa shanty after a cyclone had embraced it and given it such a hug as only a cyclone can give when out on a tear. After the battle the Democratic and Republican pyramids presented about the following appearance:
DEMOCRATIC PYRAMID. OHIO. TEXAS. NEVADA. FLORIDA. GEORGIA. INDIANA. MISSOURI. ALABAMA. NEW YORK. MICHIGAN. ARKANSAS. LOUISIANA. TENNESSEE. NEW JERSEY. MISSISSIPPI. KENTUCKY. DELAW A R E. M ARYL A N D . C d N V T. WEST VIRGINIA. PENNSYLVANIA. MA SSACHUSETTS. SOUTH CAROLINA. NORTH CAROLINA. REPUBLICAN PYRAMID. NEW HAMPSHIRE. RHODE ISLAND. MINNE S 0 T A. NEBRASKA. WISCONSIN. COLORADO. VERMONT. VIRGINIA. ILLINOIS. O R E G O N. K A N S A S. M A I N E. IOWA. It is scarcely po-sible for types to do justice to the condition of the Republican pyramid. It is not only upset, but oadly shattered. Its most solid blocks are seri u-ly cracked, and some are so niucb broken that they give to the structure the appearance of having been warmly caressed by an earthquake.
Contesting Elections. During the Forty-seventh Congress the Republican majority did not hesitate to perpetrate the most unblushing acts of partisan despotism ever witnessed in Congress or in any other deliberative body. Justice was dethroned. la s defied. liberties stricken do •■ :fr:u Is and forgeries of the most nnLlu :i.”.'r character were accepted as t < ’■> s s of action, and the will of the ]x- ,ple wa< reversed, as if it were of no n> >r i-r s -qneiice than the ravings o! i li.it-. Wir. were such things doner Se-r.'y t . incre - t’««- Republican maj rt v. The Foi tv-eighth Congress will not be Republican. The people have changed iis political complexion, and the Democratic partv will be in power. &l&?ie.- c mr'e-tU?, !ie^ n tife country will not be humiliated by the proceedings. Justice will preside. The law will govern. Frauds and forgeries and perjuries will not be permitted to triumph. That such cases will be brought before the Forty-eighth Congress there are many and just reasons for believing. The probabilities are that In liana will present a case. The indications are that the facts all combine to emphasize the absolute propriety of such a proceeding. It can be shown that the laws were openly, frequently and flagrantly violated, and that by such flagitious violations of the law a man has received a certificate of election to which he is not entitled—received it as the result of methods practiced by Republican managers as glaringly infamous as those which counted out Tilden and Hendricks in Louisiana, where John Sherman offered Fe leral offices for perjury. In such case the real questions at issue are. what ought the Democratic party to do about it ? What ought Indiana to do about it ? When the Democratic par y nominates and elects a man to office, and it can be shown by irrefragiblo testimony that he was swindled out of the office, what ought to be done ? The answer is ready and easy —protest and contest. The people are interest d. It is not an individual question. The personal disappears, the public steps to the front. The voice of the State is to be heard. If election laws are to be violated without rebuke; if elections can be transformed into shams with impunity; if the public has become so utterly debauched and demoralized, so devoid of the sense of right and of courage to resist encroachments upon their liberties, then, indeed, the days of boasting are gone and fraud reigns. Laws become dead letters, skeletons. Men may rattle their bones, but none are frightened by the racket. It should be understood that when the Democratic party is in power there will be a remedy for wrongs, that frauds will not go unpunished, and no amount of nconvenience should deter the Democratic party from taking such steps as the laws permit for maintaining the purity of elections and the rights of the pewpie.—lndianapolis Sentinel. Ex-Speaker Randall Interviewed. Tie Hon. Samuel J. Randall gave his views to a Philadelphia reporter on the future of the Democracy. Referring to the November elections, Mr. Randall said : “I believe that the recent Democratic success means a declaration by the people in favor of greatly reducing pmflic expenses, both in the Federal end State Governments. Such reductions are easily obtainable, aud can be
secured without friction to proper administration. There are many other questions vital to the prosperity of the country that must be met, and among these no one is of more importance than the doing away with the internalrevenue system. As for myself, lam in favor of an absolute and entire repeal of all such taxation. The Republicans made a fatal mistake in not co-operating with the Democrats at the last session of Congress in securing the then proposed reduction of $50,000,000. Now i the whole system must go.” Mr. Randall then went on to show how the Government could raise the revenue necessary to meet its obligations and expenses. One great source of revenue was in the form of custom duties on imports. He thought that a thorough reform and simplification of the tariff laws was necessary and should be accomplished as speedily as possible. He said: “I do not favor a tariff enacted simvlv for the sake of protection, because I doubt the exi-tence of any constitutional warrant for it. It would manifestly be in the nature of class legislation, and to such legislation, favoring one class at the expense of any other, I have always been opposed. In my judgment the question of frse trade will not become a live political issue in this country during onr lives, so long as we continue to raise revenue by duties on imports, and therefore the discussion of that principle is absolute waste of time. There is hardly a man in public life who advocates free trade pure and simple. Nobody wants direct taxation. ’ “What other measures of reform are likely to be pressed by the Democratic party, and how will their return to power affect the business interests ot the country ?” was asked. “The people are opposed to all subsidies and all kinds of jobbery,” Mr. Randall replied. “Reform in the civil service of the Government is needed, and the enactment of laws to prevent enforced assessment of officeholders salaries, whether such officeholders are under Federal. State or municipal control. I think I can assure the public that nothing will be done by the Democratic House which will in any degree disturb, or even embarrass, our present business prosperity.” Mr. Randall said that he regarded the result of the election in his State as a complete and final overthrow of bossism. “The leaders of all parties and factions,” he said, “would do well to fully understand this feature of the result.” When the subject of the Speakership of the House of Representatives was broached, Mr. Randall good hnmoredly said that, no matter who is the Speaker, the policy he indicated would be carried ont as far as the Democrats in Congress can shape leg slation. Mahone. Yi r ' 7 ifffllo''n’?; when contrasted with the disasters which overtook the administration's candidates elsewhere, it is evident that I he is losing his grip. His victory is much short of the proportions of that won by him before. While in this case his methods secured the election of his ticket, they alienated many white lead ers and awakened a distrust among white voters which is seen in the returns. When people have nn opportunity to reflect upon his high-handed use of political power, Lis domineering manners and abitrary treatment of vot- | ers, as they did not have during the : heat of the campaign, the hostility which he has provoked will be redoubled, and six months from now it would not be safe to say that he could carry the State. — Chicago Times. Smith’s Experiment. “Smith,” said a well-known Chicago merchant to his cashier, “you are going to the devil.” “Sii-—” “Now, there's no use denying it. I see it in your face. You were drunk last night and the night before last, and von are bracing up on whisky to-day. tt won’t do, sir, it won’t do. You can't stand it, and if you could—why I can’t.” “Well, sir,” replied Smith, “I admit I have been going it a little too strong lately—” “A little! Well, I should think yon had a little. Look here, Smith; you’re a good cashier and an honest one, I believe, and I don’t wan’t to lose you. Now, tell me, why do you drink ?” “I am sorry to say sir, that it seems to be a genuine love for liquor. lam always thirsty for liquor.” “That’s bad, very bad, but not incurable. I was one of the boys myself once, and I got over it. You try my plan, and I think it will work with you.” “What is your plan, sir?” “I’ll tell von. When I was a salesI ■ ■' * ft'’ 1 ' “s’ I running around nights and drinking and carousing until I began to look just as ! you do now. My employer came to me one day and remonstrated. ‘This thing has got to stop,’ said he. ‘You must either let somebody else do your drinking for you or have somebody else do your work.’ That gave me an idea, and I acted upon it. Stepping into the near- : est saloon, I invited all hands up to drink. They responded with alacrity. I picked out the toughest customer in the lot and asked him what he did for a ■ living. ‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘How much will you charge a week to do my : drinking for me ?’ ,Wot d’ye mean ?’ he asked. 1 explained to him that I had a perpetual thirst, and that whisky unfitted me for business, so I wanted him to do my drinking for me. ‘l'll do it for $5 a week an’ found,’ he replied. ‘That is, found in whisky ?’ ‘Yes, that's it, boss.’ Well, it’s a bargain.’ said I, and we shook hands on it. I took him to the store with me and sat him down in a corner out of sight. M hen J began to feel thirsty I took him out and made him drink a good big glass of whisky. Somehow, I felt better after seeing him drink. Well, I had to take him out several times that day, and before night he was pretty full. By bed-time he was helplessly drunk. I had been out with the boys and taken him along. They kicked at first at having such a measly looking tramp along, but when I explained they thought it a good joke. My appetite for drink was too strong for him. I hired another drinker, and he stayed by me for three weeks. Then I caught him throwing a glass of a hisky over his shoulder, and I discharged him. Well, I used up nine able-bodied drunkards before I absolutely quenched my thirst; but I quenched it at last. I I never think of taking a drink now.” “I believe I'll try your plan,” said Smith. “Do,” said the merchant. “I am sure it will work. It may take a long time —a year, perhaps—but you stick to it, and you’ll down yonr appetite to a dead certainty. If you find it is costing you more than you can stand 11l increase your salary.” People who are not intimately acquaintedwith Smith think he is going to the dogs at lightning express speed. They judge so because he is always seen in the company of a drunken bummer of the worst possible description. But Smith's friends know that he has not drank a drop since he had that talk with his employer. He has already used up three drunkards, and is looking around for a fourth.— Chicago Herald. Morehead City, N. C., hasn’t a horse, mule, wagon, ca>t, buggy or wheelbarrow within its corporate limits All the houses are built on the river, and all | the going to and fro is by skiffs,
INDIANA STATE NEWS. The free-delivery systein will go into operation in South Bend on the Ist oi December. W. S. Conde has been appointed government storekeeper at Rushville, vice J. H. Gowdy, who has been elected County Auditor. The Rotheina House, the largest hotel in Crawfordsville, was partially consumed, a few days since, causing a loss of about $4,1>00, which was partially insured. An elevator owned by William Bennett, at Prescott, six miles from ShelbyI ville, was burned the other day. Ihe i fire was supposed to be the work of an incendiarf. Hon. Warren H. Withers, Judge of the Allen Criminal Court, died st his residence, at Fort ayne, a few days , ago. By a singular eoineidenc, bis term of office expired the day previous to his j death. Since the election the proprietors of the large distillery, burned at Lafayette a year ago, have determined to rebuild, and have commenced the work. The matter was held in abeyance, and was decided by the result of the election. Edward Daniels, a railway laborer at Fort Wayne, and while under tin 1 influence of liquor, lay down on the track and was run over by one of the engines, causing death shortly after the accident. Daniels leaves a wife in Meadville, Pa. The report of the State Board of Agriculture will show exact receipts of last State Fair, $25,6'5.20; net profit, $4. 073.75. The expenses include $5,841.94 for construction and repairs, and SB,OBB was paid out on premiums, as against $6,855.50 last year. While out hunting Isaac Worthee fatally shot himself with a shot-gun, it being accidentally discharged. He was trving to get a shot at a mink, and just at the time some other sports coming up in range he let his gun down cocked over a log. and in raising it again it was discharged, the load entering his lung immediately above his heart. John Parker, while engaged in cutting hoop-poles near Monroeville, was mistaken for a deer and shot dead by a farmer named James Stewart. An event somewhat similar occurred in the M iseonsin pineries, where Mr. Wyatt, assistant postmaster at Fond du Lae. was fired upon by a hunter. In the latter ease, the sufferer was allowed to remain sixteen hours without aid, the shooter not daring to venture near his victim Attoney General Baldwin has brought suit at Connersville against Austin Ready and Richard Wait for SIO,OOO worth of property. In 1860, Joseph Eminisberger owned valuable lots there, and died intestate, w ith no son, of Greencastle, administrator for foreign minor heirs, sold the lots to E. F. Claypool and others. The titles have since passed to Richard Wait and Austin Ready. The theory of the suit is that Eminisberger's heirs, being foreigners. are disbarred from inheriting, and the lots should have reverted back to the State.
The marble shaft which is destined to mark the last resting place of Indiana's illustrious farmer Governor, the late Janies I). Williams, arrived at Wheatland, last week, and is still on the car on the side track at that place. The base for the monument weighs ton tons, and was taken from the cars last Thursday and put on a truck for transportation to the cemetery, and though eight teams and a number of men have been pulling on it every day since, excepting Sunday, it is still a mile and a half from its destination. The stone is so heavy that it buries the wheels of the truck deep into the earth, necessitating the use of a jack every few yards. The wheels have been dug out several times. The monument is not so heavy, and will be easier of transportation. The injuries sustained by the shaft in the late collision is not very serious, and will only necessitate the dressing down of one corner perhaps half au inch:—lndianapolis Journal, 15th. School Statistics. In his annual report the State Superintendent of Public Instructions will give a complete statement of the number of pupils attending the public schools of the State,with the number of teachers employed and their average daily wages. The number of pupils is as follows: White—Male, 255,762; female, 234,402; total, 490,164. Colored —Male. 4.224: female. 4.404; total. 8,638. Total—Male, 259.9k6; female. 238,806; grand total, 498,792. The average daily attendance during the last year has been 305,513. The numlauglit was 9,172; colored schools, 106; and disirict graded schools, 438. The teachers employed numbered 13,295, of whom 133 w ere colored, and their average compensation per day is: Townships, males. $1.93; females, $1.74: in towns, males, $2.88; females. $1.86, and in cities, males, $3.92, and females, $2.17. Breaking Quorum. Quite a sensation was created in Greensburg, the other day, occasioned by the arrest of four members of the City Council, viz: Messrs. Zollar, Ewing. Haas and Bussell. It seems that the grand jury at the last term of the Circuit Court returned an indictment against them, charging them with ‘ breaking vuoruni in council.” The City Council has the election of School Trustees under the law. There being an alleged vacancy in that office, and an election proposed by certain members of the Council, the members above named, for reasons satisfactory to themselves, refused to vote for the election of a trustee. Hence the indictment ami the arrest. The Council is composed of eight members, so that half the body refused to vote, it is said. If found guilty, the penalty is a fine not exceeding SI,OOO. nor less than SIOO. The hearing of these eases will excite a great deal of local if not general interest. Murtler and Suicide. Jasper Spalding, a young and thrifty farmer, who lives two miles north of Earl Park, sold his farm of 120 acres for $34 per aere, and deposited the money in the bank at Kentland: then, with his wife and 4 year-old son, went home. The next morning he was seen before day in his yard, w ith his lantern. Not I wing seen during the forenoon by anyone, about 1 o'clock his mother-in-law. who lives about one-half mile south of his place, went to his bouse and found at the door a singletree w ith blood on it. and in the hoeus ! Spalding's wife and child, all on the 1 floor, dead; the son with the back part ; of his skull mashed in and his throat cut: the wife nose and upper jaw mashed, and her head nearly severed ’ from the body: Spalding with his throat j cut. He was lying on his knees and I hands, face down, partly across his wife. On the floor lay a bloody razor. I They had eaten breakfast, and the wife's hands had dough on them, as if she had been making bread. Nothing seemed : to be missing in or disturbed al»out the house, ex< ept that the looking-glass was Iwoken. Esq. Smith held an inquest . and the verdict is 'murder and suicide by the han 1s of .Taspe’ Spa Idin z.” and i this seems to be the universal verdict.
Mr. Spalding was about 30 years old. He and his wife were members of the M E Church, and wore universally respected by all who knew them. He was industrious, hard-working, fiugal. and much attached to his family. Ihe writer has known the family well for the past eight years, and how or why he should, or could, commit such a horrible crime is bevond comprehension. Time may make some revelation.—Didianapoiis Journal.
FAMILY MATTERS. What Makes the Siam. — house will be kept in turmoil where there is no toleration of each other’s errors. If you lay A single piece of wood on the grate and apply the fire to it it will go out: put on another stick and they will burn. Add half a dozen and votj will have a blaze 11 one member of the family gets into a passion and is let alone he will cool down, and may possibly be ashamed and repent. But oppose temper to temper, pile on all the fuel, draw in another of the group, and let one harsh answer lie followed by others, and there will soon be a blaze will enwrap them all. Compliments.—Those who welcome flattery are generally persons who.badIv need praise. Real merit needs none. A flatterer complimented Dr. Wayland very highly on one of his discourses of which he thought very little. “What yon sav,” replied the good man, “gives m- no’better opinion of myself, but a much worse opinion of you. Says a writer in the Churchman : M hen I was young I knew a girl who was so fond of compliments that she was perpetualIv seeking them, and after receiving one would repeat it to her friends as proudlv as if it had come spontaneousIv. Even now, when she is past middle iqxe, she is the laughing-stock among our young people, because she still courts and repeats compliments as in her vouthful days. So blinded is she bv lier vanity, that she never suspects that she is being ridiculed by those who wickedly pretend to admire her; neither will she believe that the persons who flatter her speak disparagingly of her to others. A woman or girl who lavs aside the modesty and feuii nine reserve that are au ornament ta the female character must expect this. A compliment to l>e of value should I* sincere and spontaneous, and delicately expressed. Experience shows that it is not the girl whom a man feeds with flattery that he tries to win for himself.
Husbands and Wives. —I w..s wondering recently why a friend did not keep a servant, and was met by the indignant exclamation, “Why, her husband is a poor man!” Yes, he is a pool rosy, for their mother has given them her beauty and her strength—almost life, but from the oldest to the young- < est not one of them ever appeared to think of her or her hard lot. Bathing and dressing occupies their time until breakfast, then a visit to the cats and : kittens, a frolic in the garden, then away to school. In the evening there are music lessons, French and German and all kinds of castles to be built over the dining-room table. It seems hard to w ish to curtail their pleasures and opportunities, but bow much kinder and better they would appw if they would but give a thought to the poor mother toiling over their mending and falling asleep in her chair. How ungenerous it is for a man to say “I work hard and it is but fair that my wife should do the same.’’ His work is such that a substitute cannot be provided. Il there could be how gladly she would second the plan. With her it is different; for a few, a very few dollers per month, a strong woman could be kept in the kitchen to do all the hard work of the house.— L. H. Hawes. The Man Who Buys His Wife’s Things.—The happiest tomes are those where the husband interferes never at all in the household management, but turns over to his wife the money for the house and leaves the rest for her. I can appreciate the man who goes to market if he goes not for economy —to get butter a cent or two less a pound, or cheaper cuts of beef—but because he wants the best there is to be had. Men are more skillful, more generous marketers than women. They are free with money when delicacies are offered; they will have the first of the season of everything, cost what it may. And the market people seldom try to pull the wool over their eyes, as they sometimes do with women, and palm off upon them second-rate articles at first-rate prices. Men are not to be humbugged when the stomach is in question. But marketing is not a man’s business. The wife i • »»» »■ —-rtn axixziixti t »va . i thing which pertains to housekeeping, i If, however, there is anything to be said it favor of the man who does the 1 marketing, it is impossible to find excuses for the man who does all the , family shopping and relegates his wife 1 to a position in the house w Inch is nothing higher than that which might be i occupied by an upper servant. — Proaraxs. Jio Stieh Word hs Fail. We begin to think that Riohelien’e c wl was right; theie is no such word as fail in the vocabulary of the man who is bound to si cc ed in his undec takings. In this wornl of curs there are men of men. We see on t.ue one Land voting mon well educated, with perfect b ain and form, unable to cope with lie world. On the other we find ineo w.thout education, with imperfect ;>liys ical development, overcoming natural disadvantages achieving honorable success. There is residing somewhere in New Jersey a man who was born without arms, ana yet can w rite remarkably well, chiefly by using his lips. Hi’s munition, l>R.ckp<l l*v b persevering industry, has enabled him to overcome j difficulties that seemed insurmountable j and he therefore qualified himself for an active business man. He is now nearly thii ty years of age. and is an oojeet of absoibing interest to all who come in contact with him A Coat to be Disciplined. In the days of early Methodism in Northern Ohio, a preacher had been appointed to a new circuit, and wore on his first round a fashionable broadcloth frock-coat, which his tailor hail innocently provided for him. This became a source of grievance to the home-spun laity, and it was finally resolved to make it a matter of discipline. So at the first quarterly conference charges were prepared in due form, and the offending minister notified to l>e present and make answer. Entering the room where the presiding elder and lesser magnates were assembled, the preacher stripped’ off his coat, hung it on the back <if a chair, and pointing to it, said: “Since it is the coat that offends, try it. Could I reach any sounder gospel in robes or cassock? It seems to me that it is not the manner of the coat, but the manner of man in the coat, that should be considered." And thcr -the trial ended.— Chteinnati Commercial. Said a Denver man to his friend, the clergyman: “My dear feUow, vou must really let up on driving fast horses and .frequenting variety shows. There’s a heap of scandal floating round about you. And the clergyman replied. “Is there? Oh joy! That's what Iv e been working for. I shall hsve some audiences now.”— Boston Post.
He Didn’t Care for Any. A story is told by the Nan!u c k. t hiqui. er of a ycung married i luin io town, which will bear repeating, ’ft young man, during his “courting" j av ! was very bashful. One day he was in. vited to attend a tea party id the house of a pious uncle of his sweetheart, and when seated at the table the good host ess re jues'ed him to ask a blessing which ea “broke up" the already dered young man that he unconsciously stammered out: “I don't care for ant thank you.” 1 THE MARKETS. I NEW YORK. BVKVES $ 825 (5',10.75 HOG» 6.2 I (3 7.20 Cotton 10’.. <e Fl-OUR—Snnerfine 3/jy r jg* Wheat—No. 1 White -1 io No 2 Red 1.07 Vvg Corn—No. 2 84 u, Oats—No. 2 .41 ' M Pork—Mess Laud CHICAGO. 1 Beeves—Good to F»ncv steers., fi.25 fi.4o Cow, and Heifers 2.75 3.% Medinin to Fair 4.6" 5.15 Hogs 475 < 7.10 IXOUR— Fancy White Win ter Ex. f-.vi • 5.75 Good to Choice Sp'g Ex. &.00 t 5.55 WHEAT—No 2 Hprine 93 .4 No. 2 Red Winter .95 gt tj Corn—No. 2 2 .70 Oats—No. 2 "6 ? .37 RYR—No. 2 <-/) m BaHIEY—No. 2 «3 ■ 4 BUTTER— Choice Creamery 35 r. .35 Eggs— Fresh 11 -6 Poke—Mess 17.75 -isog Laud .ujf FORT WAYNE. neru-Nn. 1 White » No. 1 Family on * 2 {Vheat—No. 2 Red. ne* ?OBN—in ear—eld « Rir New " - S fcr.-.-.""-. .1? : “ ivNCINNATT. Wheat—No. 2 Red st rt m Cobs n .« Oats ai ,-g Rye «1 P ri Pcr.K—Mess 19.75 (320. W laan ■ -UM TOLEDO. Wheat—No. 2 Red w C V Cobs 75 £ ,:a Oats —No. 2 •■■■■ - 31 9 .78 DETROIT. Flour f Wheat—No. lIS kite. 99 f I.(C Cobs—No. n 11 ; 5 Oats—Mixed i' { '9 Pobk—Mess -. 29.50 ttll-OJ INDIANAPOLIS. Wheat —No. 2 Bed 98 Cobs—No. 2 6S .69 Oats—Mixed 34 C* 35 EAST LIBERTY, PA CATTlj:—Best 3.00 ’’ M Fair 4.00 ('« 5 e Common. 3.30 et 4.00 Hons «-40 a 7.3' Rhkkp 2.50 5.25
PRINCIPAL-j-UNE he bHORT Em 1 1 U1 (KE b i • And line to St. J' >■ ph. points In Topeka. L' Nebraska.Missouri.Kas*^*s^^ys^6un,Da as, t - kis, New Mexico. Arlz. ::a, Ss £X^ s '<•; - tana an 1 Texas CHI C A G- C| •ip ■ ~ - ••^'■ r - ■ lr'-'^^'’"- 1 , Minne.w • * and >! x a: . •,. v r ly conceded to the Great be the best equipped Kailroad In the Nturld for L ■ ■'a all c a.-.« <of travel KANSAS CITY \u -?X. All c-t. r.3HWde >/Z| S X. In :. a Through Tick -t.* via X. V/ t: 1 ' Se> brated Line ’ r:,v sale at all offle<•* ‘ ux ’ the US. ar >*K \ * about Ik. - Fare. Jie pii - •"• XfW \ X Y< e'c >' vr - v \ X T J POTTER. PERCEVAL LOaELL, id Via Prat <i GenU Manager, Chicago, 111 Chicago. HL GRAND RAPIDS & INDIANA RAILWAY. In Effect October 15, 188». COLI'MIII'M TIME. GOiNt iNoftTH. ~ Btati< >n*— I N‘2; L ' I -ft 0 * *• -- — Cin.,C.H.&D lv J 8 15am 747 pm Kt< hnioiMl ]v,»tfpnrll 10 pv Winchester 4 19 12 14pm 11 > Ridgeville ’4 Sy 12 38 1149 Portland 5 08 I 05 12 I.’am Decatn r 613 j 2 10 ,1 25 Fnrt Wavnd 1v*.’..‘A...’2 x-> Is in Kendallville 14 46 4 20 • »• StargiH I iGW I 6 42 Vlckaburg 715 I 6 41 1- 'V m Kalamazoo ar; 750 |7® ,1- ■.’ Kalamazoo h 8(6 1 7 *> H•’ Allegan ; 1. 9 3d Grand Rapid* ar WlO i 9 W .4 -> Grand Rapid* lv 745 am 10 20 ? D. d: M. < ToiMing .... I7 55 W 37 Howard City ’9 17 12 06pm \ Big Rapids. 10 14 - 101 • _•- Reed city ’lO 50 1 200 /• * Cadillac ar 1209 pm ;8 15 I” ''> Cadillac lv «> <3O -11 ov Mancelona . ■. I 6 (M Boyne Fall* • I I 7 11 ■-- Petoskey I 7 50 4 b Harbor Springs ’8 25 Mackinaw ' ...' • LGoinm whthl - Station®— i s \ ' ' Marll »aw..........1v1................. •• - - ‘*® Manr-1, na *fl 1 Cadillac ar .. .1142 5 4-> Cadillac lv toOimi 12 (Spin « Reed City I 513 1 I'> ■ • Big Rapids ‘ S3O 150 8 « Howard City 647 I 2 W 91» D. AM. Crossing.. ~ 836 ;4 14 Grand Rapids ar 820 I 4 85 •'; ?■ Grand Rapid> lv| 7 (bam ~..! •’ '5 , Allegan < 5® ,‘g Kalamazoo ar 900 i <OO , ‘ Kalaanu. >o lv, 906 1• £ ? » s;? I-■■::::■?}’ <'■> Kendallville Il 46 j 10 05 i’> ® Fort Wayne ar 1 OOpni- 11 20 I• 1j Fort Wayne lv 120 6 15am 12 Warn iX-caUu 210 |7«M 125 Portland I 8 10 BOS i 2 34 Ridgeville I 3 37 !S 34 j 3 01 Winchester 856 854 '8 38 Richmond 5 (X) 955 I 4 35 Cincinnati...... ... ! 7 40 It 10pm 735 No. 5 leaves Cincinnati ami No. 8 leaves Mackinaw City daily, except Saturday. All utner trains daily except Sunday. Woodruff sleeping cars on Nos. 5 and 6 between Cincinnati and Grand Rapids, and -■’‘•’P' ing and chair cars on same trains Grand Rapids and Petoskey; also V« sleeping cars on Nos. 7 and 8 bevw. • -j i ,’’ raU Rapids and Mackinaw Citv. A. 1' LEE!• ’ Gen’l. Pass. Agent. TOLEDO, CINCINNATI & ST, LOUIS R. «■ Thue Table—ln Ktfret Sept. 4, Going Went. : Western I Goin* E*" - 11 17 I 6 I Diviiuon. I 8 J* J-12-A. M. P. M. A. M. Lv. ’ ■ Ar. p. M. p. M; r M I 1 39 6 •'*> ... Enterprise, g | • ' '3 29 831 .... Bluffton 5 54’1” 4J I 3 471 8 50 .Liberty Centre. 531 1 - 4 545 5 <*4 10 10 . Marion. 4 1,1 J' . <js 7 30 6 33' ■ .... I Ar. Lv. (knng South. . Dayton < Goin-' N r i_. j 9 i 1 Division. * _J 77~5 p m. i>. m ......6 54 4 30 Osgood 9 43 - ' • 'A 8 41 6 31 Union 7 55, « •' 1 9 lo 6 56 Stillwater June. ’ *2 ' - Going Wesi. , Frankfort and I Going, 13 I 11 i 7 State Line Div 8 Xf A M A.M. ?M Lv Ar. A-M. P P . ... ; 8337 01 . Russiaville 7 rJ 4 a 6 yj IQ IO 7 5Ci ax.._Frankfort. Iv 6 3° I_2—--T A Mfflti.li’S T - ls Aefnt. Gen Manager. Gen .Pa*- f* nt _ w. s Matthias. a»x Gea. p**
