Decatur Democrat, Volume 26, Number 41, Decatur, Adams County, 5 January 1883 — Page 4

THE TWO FLEETS. Bl lUGENE BOLLKB. The inn was bright, and the sea was bland, And the ltd j danced 1 m me:rily, When a • iilor push d h a b a ilum the sand; And the waves Kept t.me with tua u<-ui i. glee. Fur ti esa lor hummed: “I w fleet'* there be; And one arils over th sun-lit vav a. And one lie® under the »onri>er sa.” The tea was bland, and the fun was bright, And a far rt g wind blew fresh and tr e. And the 1.-sa'ni! g sail dia pp< ar- d from sight; But tne odd rei.aiu slid r mained with inc Whi h 'he tailor nar.g— “Two ii e.« there be: And < ne sdls ov -i the sun-lit uavet. And une lies under the somber &ea." The tide dan ed ■ nt wjth the fre gh‘ it bore; Ah, th j 1 de ame b »ok soon s i.ilingly. Bu the tailor’s boa ton h- the «h- re; And I slag t > mvee.f f >r I canno. ti e Frtun the banning ttr.i n, “1 wo fleets t!.ere be; And ne sails over the sun-lit waves. And one lies under he a moer sea." 8o one by one from the ahi I tr world The flee sails do« n to he dismal ee— To he fleet wi.ere everv sail is fork d; And m heart keei>a tmeto t em > stic kev, While I drift a d sing Two flee a there be; Anu one sails ever ih- sun-lit wav a, And one Im>s under the wnber sea." Bn a lirtle while and he who sings Shall uum no m ■ e hit s. n_w t thee; Bo they who watch his sunlit wings Shall h ar, when they cann t see The lips which sing. “fw fleets there be; And one sails over the sun-lit wave-*, And one Les under the somber sea." —Harper’a Magatint. Mr. Van More’s Daughter-In-Law. The Van Nores were present at the creation of the world. Some pe >plo say they made it; but one really knows better than that. If it had not beep for their nnaecmutable belief tha’ the 1 builder of the ark that rented on Mount Ararat was a Jew, and their unuttera lo contempt for the rice of Spji zi at. t Mendelssohn, of Heine, Auerbach i d Disraeli, they would not have he-u’falel to conceive that the fam.ly name of the patriarch was Van Nore. At any late, you may understand that the Van Nores were an immens !y ancient family, so old as to be ri-illv worm-eaten. In the dust of the Van Nores there were soldiers and statesmen, and even a less regarded author or two; in this century th-ie was noth ing at all to speak of. If, however, an one says their family tree was like one of those of old, wide and deep-roote fir trees sometimes seen, with bu a single gnarled and lichened branch lei of all its loreit glory, the best part o it under ground, you ean see that tin person is no friend of the Van Noras but one whose eyes have lieen hurt b' the dazzle of th- ir splendo , wh ha been forgotten at their banquets,looker at with a stony glare upon the -tree possibly knocked down and bruised an. ignored by their fast horses. Being immensely ancient, immens-li distinguish-d, and also immensely wealthy, it goes without saving that thVan Nores thought immensely well < themselves. They never soiled the: garments by contact with the cr «r<! th< y bought their p ct- res an 1 stat:. Btr right from the mani'.fncturers b. f they had been profaned by the vul i gaze; thev would have li ed the go they spent cast with a Van Nore dev ,■ and the die br< ken. They could n hope to keep ad the knowledge ::i t ->t universe to themselves; but they did not care so much forth - —th weralways tutors and eh iplai is and h it to be had, a.t f thee .-torn Tt' e.-. Sea Island chiefs, who maintain a I’il v oma or Talking M m of KnowL’-'g.-. I:, once, in a while, they al.owrd theta selves to come be’ore the public in a matter of suffrage, it was no: dtog->t e without the seusa ion of m :.ic ft i had acrilre who has wr tten the SocrAl Nam with unwashed hands, and, 1-eingu ualiv defeatel, they rela sed into a more pro found contempt of the people tha. b»fore, and talked glibly of the adv. . tages of a mon rel y, al. hough not . ithout an undercurrent of •leltng th t ir. the event of a monirc'.y the I .nNwould be monarchs. I i-yinte wrr: of cours only ->ith families apc.o gree and a sumption one degree ie-;-tban—it could n t be more t-an, and could hardly be equal to—the Vi.r. Nores. Judge then, of the towihler d and amaze. 1 wrath of the Van Nore famil when the sou of the house, the h ir o the name, the last of the name t'.e only mae Yau Nore est logo dom tillages with t e weight of the fam ly ill is tr.outness upon hi< s iouldors, in rried a young girl in the West, unknown, obscure, and a Jewess! Nore Van Nore had a sister older than himself, a d irk and imposing creature with the Van Nore nose; he had a sister younger than himself, pallid, blood ess, with her mothers delicacy of feature, ami with nothing u-oit her but her haughtiness to distinguish her from th- herd of young women; he ha-1 one Van Nore cuu :i, a little app! blossom, hardly coming up to t :e family requirements; h id lour Va i Nore spinster attbts, w. <>, if they quarieled among them-elves like birds in a woo l, presented n unbroken phalanx of family integrity to the public, and who, with t e idea that they bad the manners of Duchesses, real y gave some reason to believe them directly descended from the patriarch, they looked ho extremelv like the wood- n women it: the children’s toy arks. His fatheaembodied ad the dignity, pc-mpotrity and grandeur of all the Van Nores before him, as if he were the fl .me of their ashes; he had but one gift, and that was a faculty for satiric d speech, which he exorcised with impunity upon his wife—his wife, the line of whose descent was ' bo long that it had. worn to a olorlesH. I attenuated thread in luw, a ill n, pale, languid woman, i f whose condition i: expressed little to say she dar> <1 not ©all her sou) her own, because, m look ing at her, er looking through her, rather, it was not clear that she had a soul—a woman Without, intellect, without individuality, and alm-wt without vitality. Into this assemblage Nore Van Nore had d-redintroduce a person absolutely without a grandfather, and whose grandlather, had she hid one. would have bi on named Shacabac. Mr. Van Nore and his household would treat this vile ami vulgar intriguer, who had thrust herself upon them, and had thought to lift herself by pulling them uowu, as she deserved. | Xu their heart of hearts they had a comple e. if inarticul to, consciousness i that no one could have married the j br.degroom in question for any other purpose. And N -re Van Nor ■ rece ; veJ a letter of repu ia'ion from bis father, disowning him and casting him forever into the outer darkness of the world of I people who were net Van Nores. And who was Nore Vin Nore? He was a young man of 26 years, who‘e 1 meot.d processes had mastered the rudiments of learning to such an extent that he could read the newspaper a d I ma e change. All attempts to cultivate those mental proces es much further had failed; if he entero I the university at last, it was because tutor' and pri-ctoi.s and fami'y influence, a fortuitous chance, and. perhaps, money, all wrought togeth-r. Entrance m s all, however; lie or the first term elowed Mr. Van Nore had private but auihorr-aUve inf rm t on that unless he wa ted expulsion for stupidity approaching imbecility he had better withdraw his son. In a hot but self righ - eons fury. Mr Van Nore tur.iel he tables and expelled the university. He w Utdrew his son w th a wild show ot anger and scor f.irf icnltv, enrr cn um. endowment and career “They have graduated r.o man whoeome to anything in the ls<> twenty-five years!” he ai-l. And that the matter might be sooner

_____, — - forgotten, ho gave Mr. Nore Van Nore a i ur-e and a traveling companion and . di-pa died hi n to the far West. It was probably a case of retarded developmen ; porh >ps he would do a Lttle exploring ami discovering; w en he should return the affair would h ive qni e blown over nd he would marry him to some maiden who had besn so well brought np t at she would feel herself taking a proper place am -ng denominations, princes and powers by marrying a lan Nlore of anv caliber. Al! the -ame, he did not f ill to make his wife’s lif a burden to her by sarcasms ou her fe ble wit thr.t hi l been strong enough to adulterate tha strength of the Van Nor-*, whi e the very sen<e of his son’s incapacity, thus forced upon him, was ano'her argument again-t the woman who would many an iml ecile for the s ko of climbing into his rank and position. It was no altogether to be wondered at, then, if li: w-e did not fully smI pathize with him in this extremity, and if, being of an affectionate disposition, so far as she had anything to impart, havirg imn r‘ -1 th I o to her son, she wrote a little surreptitious letter — she who bail usually not a thought nor a deed nor an emotion of her own. Mr Darlixo Bot: I send you al! my love. Any w fe you eht-o-e to marry wih be the dear dangh.er of your mother. I hat was the letter written so secretly; it meant volumes to her; it meant vol mes to her boy. She was frighten- d to a tregibl ng . host of her ghostlike seif when she stopped the carriage and asked the footman to drop it in a street-box, for she felt that if her husI band knew it it would not le impossible 1 for him to Blow out her flickering flame of life altogether, or stamp its feeble spark into the earth. He never had .-truck her, but she never knew what he might do yet. The father’s letter, when it came, was not at all unexpected by Hero Van Nore, nor was the mother’s a surprise. She was a girl of 20, “divinely tall and most divinely fair.” Her superb moldings would have fed a sculptor’s eye with rapt ure, her superb coloring would have driven wild another Ti ian; th great b aids upon her head seemed made of spun gold; she wore them like a crown, as bee me a daughter of the royal tribe of Judah. She was undoubtedly a Jewess; but as Miriam, as Deborah, as .-u-annah may have done, she I.ad the large beauty of that Clytie in her sunflower »horn some think to be Isis in her lotus. She waited in her f -tiler's shop and she sold Mr. Van Nore a pair of gloves there. He had -riven his nurse some time ii.ee to hit traveling companion, and he was waiting in this little place till 'i<> shonl I receive a fresh remittance from bis father. When he saw Hero he had som-thing else to wait for. He hung round the sl op corners, and when die went home he f l'owed her. Verd rices u -atnit d. a—she stepped as if th ■ ear’h were air: he said to himself ■h .t t was because his heart was under i< i- fi-et. He knew intuitively that she o id not g:v • him a second look. A hat we-e the Van Nores out here in :, .e wi den es? He was able to see, -■•r a ' his deficiency, that she was on a >iz - r plane of being than his own. But, if e could not hope he could at i -.st. -utter; lie could gaze at the star he •n ght not win. He 1-ought another na rof ovee. Ah. heavens Ito feel the lom-h of th s - pointed fingers of hers as h y stretc' ed the kid from s de to side •f his hand! The next day be bought mother pair. Be ore he was through he had bought the whole stock of gloves in the shop. Os course this attracted her a‘tention, ind she m- d - some inquiry concerning him. “You hail be’ter go away,” she id, v.h n he came in again. “Yon do m-t need loves, or ties, or any of our .'oods. Y’ou are making yourself ridiolious." “I Lave nothing to do with it,” he retd', d. “I w.is made so when he was : or.i.” And so one wor 1 led to another, and in the course of time he had told her hi- story, which somehow seemed full r>( wrongs, the h ory of a rather feebleminded v-nth who had been snubbed and browbeaten and ill-used bv a dismpoin’ed father from his birth. Her 1 eut wis stirred with pity; she let iii » come to the house. Hope bounded ■vithi him. If the star s ould fall r roni the sky to his arms! He wrote to Ids father—l forgot to sav that he ■- 1.1 wri e th .t he wanted his influo to help him marry the mostve v, the most-virtuous, the mossLri lint of w men, who waited behind ’li ■i- -.inter of li.-r father’s little Jew l op. The answer to this 1 tter made •us air stand on end. Cold, sneering, vindictive, cruel, threatening — what o I'd he do but -how it to her! Her ill d would have b- en cold and thin ■ fl ul that not made it boil. “I -• never a- back to him,” said Nore. “I never wd! o back to hm; it is the last blow he sli .11 strike me.” IVniild • u l>e happier here in the shop helping me ?” "Beyond meas-ire!” he cried. S - lie told him to see her father that night. She meant about the situation; he meant about a wife. And her father, in a- : ood and strong contempt as Mr. Van No » him-elf con'd feel, ordered the fellow from the house. ‘’The wor bless varlet!” cried the old man. “Can he earn his salt? What do I care for his name and his family and his entailed moneys—the dog of a Cl ■ ist an ? H ean have them all, but he ci ’t marry my girl to an idiot!” “ He is not an idiot, father," said Hero. “ There s more in him than any see;" and -he calmly canvassed the subject. “He has been made to look up until he does not know how to look strain b ahead. Some day he will assert himself—” “ You'?” said her father. “ You ? I believe you care for the lout! When you have sweethearts to fill a regiment! When you can marry any man in the eonnty!” “ I don’t know,” she said. “ I am sorry tor hm. I care to have him happy—be has had so much unhappiness.'' And a‘ that moment they beard a groan outside, and they ran to the door to pick up N’ore Van Nore, helpless ai d just returning to consciousness, I with a broken leg. H ro installed herself as his chief attendant. In the long hours of patient pa in iu the devotedness of his silent worship for her, something st rred her heait that was not pity! Heaven knows | what itwis! Th-re are some strong I natures that must wrap themselves , about the w ak. Ihe first time he could stand upon his feet again they were marri- d. And then N’ore Van Nore w ent down to help her wait behind the collate iu th ■ shop, w-here she consulted him and ref- rred to him and honored him till she was likely to make others share tin- stra: ge resjiect she had for him. “He is single-hearted,” she said to one of her oi l lovers in that primitive (simiiiunitr, v.ho felt the right to make some oiit-t-oken complaint; “he is up'’ght: he i-un-elfi-h. He is kind to i the fly on the wail. He loves me and no other. Wliat more do I w ant in a I husband? He-nits me. And as for his re igion, what does that signify, when, i nt any rate, we both worship the same , God i ” A year fnini that time Hero did - iait .o :o the shop much; she had a I litt'e son— nd not a very little one, ; eithe»-a liounoing. magnificent boy, j «ith his mother’s colors sndcyee. full of life and joy and spirit, and quite tha

most remarkable baby in the world. And so, when the child was 6 months old. it seemed to Nore Van Nore, in his happiness, that he was wrong to deprive Im f mdy of the blessing of knowing of such a blessing, and he wrote home for the third time, but this time to his s mother. This was shaking the red rag in the 1 face of the bull. Mr. Van Nore tram- ( pled up and donn his wife’s sitting- ’ room awhile, reared and stamped and * snorted --nd bellowed, and not till he J had rsduced her to tears for having ’■ brought such a son into the world, and had pursued it till she ga-ped for ‘ brea'h and had to have the maids a’:d »ther and hot liottles did he subside 1 intos lence and thought. 'I li.at this son of a beggarly shopgirl of a Jewess should be the Van Nore! I Never, m ver, if he Ind to put out the s light of all the Van No.es at once! ‘ Joe -lyn--, his elde t daughter, shouLl * marrv voiing De Vere, and he should 1 take the name of Van Nore. For a stun f of money Nore should break the enta I £ and renounce his n me, taking instead that of his low-t>orn wife. And so Jocelyne's son, who was a foregone conclusion in Mr. Van Nore’s mmd, ( shoe dbe the great V-n Nore o come. s He h d a sachel packed within an hour, , and he slept that night, for the first , time in his life, in a vul ar sleeping- j car, always before having left the train , at nightfall rather than be one of the , pr- misenous canaille si- eping a common t sleep. Days and nights and days nd • nights of this wretched contiguity. It < was a hard experience for Mr. Van - Nore. He added it all up against his , son. And the selfishness of the mod rn i traveler did not tend to increase his ■ appreciation of his kind. His kind? ; Not the least bit his kind! Mr. Van , Nc re was more than ever persuaded , that he was a superior integer of the ] race —marking, perhaps, one of those i points of progress from which one ] development steps to a higher. At last i he s:ood in the presence of his daugh- | ter-in-law. i A shajieless little greasy Jewess, sell- I ing old clothes—or a stately youn. god- I dess assuming a human smile? One ] ' convulsive sensation t rille-1 a ro - him i I of pride in Nore’s taste, at least, sour- ' 1 ing instantly to ang a r to think that taste was all." And then he opened tho 1 subject. ' “No, father-in-law,"saidHero,firmly, . despite his wincing, and after the fashion of speech in u.-e ame . g her people. : “No. father-in-law. we do not want your money. Nor wi 1 we surrender our 1 name; it is our name by all right and law that it is yon: s. And as for your grandsom, we have no power to forswear 1 our birthright for our mess of pottage.” ' It was a will as strong as his own < that oppose 1 him. St, ruling was no 1 use here. He left th house'wi’hout 1 another word, and left Hero dancing her crowing boy in the broad transfiguring sunbeam, looking np proudly at her husband, yet fondly, to see if real v she and the boy compensated to him for i all he had lost. j ( An hour afterward Mr. Van Norewas brought back to his son on a stretcher; . two trains had collided, and he was among the killed and wounded. An artery had been severed, and before a physician could reach him he was bleeding to death. When at length the flow • was staunched, and he lay fainting and sinking away. “It is almost hopeless,” said the surgeon; “there is little blood I left in his body.” The sight of his dying father had changed the current of Nore’s irate feeling. “If I could but give h.mminel* i he cried. “It would do him small cood,” said the doctor, looking at the pale and Bpind ing fellow with an anatomist's contempt; and from him the glance traveled to Hero, standin ' near m her abundant life, w th the dincing boy in her arms, still followed by the sunbe im. Hero read the glance in a moment, and ha-1 given the c i d to h r bus an-1. I “Here, doctor,” she said, baring an arm that Hebe, carrying lie and metar to the gobs, might have lifted. “Do you know what it means for I you?” said the doctor, “and for your i child, perhaps? Loss of strength, it may be of health —” • “I know it is my hn band’s father, I my child's gr m Jparent,” she said slowI ly. “If my blood can save him, it is I right that heshall have it." And when , ■ she time to herself ifter her first faiutt i ing-fit, save for fatigue and Lingnor, i she did not know th it she felt much the I worse, and her father-in-law was smiling - at li r with uster in the eyes that she ' I so lately saw nearlv set in death. I Strange and awful moment to Hero! , - She ha-1 given lif- to this man. She had gone l-ehind the veil of death and durknees ar;d worked with the f rces of creation. There was a bond lietween [ her and him such as there could lie between no other people ii the world. For . half a fainting heart beat she thought i she had made him; for half as long again he thought she had. She felt her heart irradiate with a tender warmth tow- ' ard her husband's fathe.. She fell on her knees beside him and kis - d his hands. “Oh, my father.” she said, “you i must forgive us, for we love you!" As for Mr. Van Nore, I never saw anybody happier than he "as, some weeks afterward, on his way home with | hi- party. His son accompanied him, ' with the nurse of a superb rosy biby i folded in white fleecy wools, and a lady, stately as any Princess ought to be, but seldom is, with her black bear-skin ' l robes about her. “She is very teich- ’ 1 able,” thought Mr. Van Nore. “A j month of our life will give her all the ' savoir faire she needs. Her tact i in- ■ : estimable.” And then he wondered if • I she could hold her own with Jocelyne. : i j “My grandson, the future Van Nore,” ' : | he said to every acquaintance he came : across, and they ail seeme Ito lx- traveling on various portions of that trip. “ Hero, my dear. My daughter-in-law, Mrs. Van Nore, My daughter-iu-law. j A great addition to our circle, I assure you. An old family, an old family. 1 We—we are not exactly, so to say, related. but we—we —we have some of i the same blood in onr veinnl"—Harriet i Pregcott Spofford, in Our Continent. I Pulled His Tail. ’ The Portland (Oregon) iferrury tells 1 the following story of a cougar conflict, ’ and the daring deed of a courageous woman in her husband's defense. The ■ immense forests in the neighborhood of t Yaqtuna bay are filled with cougars, > bears and other ferocious wild animals, ’ that when driven by hunger, some times > seek the settlement for food. ! A farmer named Scurry, residing a • short distance from Elk City, was atl tacked by a large cougar wliile he was - at work on his farm near the house. > The lieast made a desperate fight, “ knocking the man down before he could I defend himself, or use a pistol in Ids I possession. ’ Scurry was growing faint in the r deathly struggle that ensued, when his I wife, who saw the attack from the door -of the cabin, ran to his assistance, and > without stopping to consider her dan- ’ ger, seized the brute's tail and by main i force dragged the animal from his au--1 tieipated dinner. » Scurry leaped to his feet, and before » the cougar conld renew the assault, • struck him with the sharp end of the e mattock he had been using, killing him instantly. 1 Hrs. Scurry kept up well, but when » there was no further need of exertion > on her part, she tottei ed and fell, “all , of a neap,” as her hustiand said. He 1 escaped with painful scratches and ar. e ugly bite in the shoulder. 1

AGRICrLTTRIL. Ventllaton for Cornerite. Corn can be cribbed in larger quantities and earlier in the season with safety bv using ventilators. Make upright’ flues of slats or four boards nailed together at their edges and bore holes on everv side. This flue should open at the Ixottom and extend through the corn at the top of the crib. The heating that starts up in a crib causes an upward draught through the ventilators w hich carries off the moisture and reduces the temperature. The cost is trifling, but the device is satisfactory in use. Sometimes rails or blocks of wood are thrown in the crib with damp com, but unless they are in a per|iendicular posiiion they do little goo-1 and these are not nearly so effective as an open flue. Even if corn ri not dam >or green enough to spoil it will m t ria Iv as-ist in curing so as to lie fit to shell and gr ind by giving full ventilation and Ires circulation of air. Efltects or Draining. First. It removes the surplus wafer and prevents ponding in the soil. It* should be noted that :f t le drains are used they should be of sufficient size to remove the surplus water in twentyfour hours. Second. It preven‘s the accumulation of poisons in the soil, which result from stagnant water, either above or under the surface. Third. The ammonia is carried down into the soil by the descending rain, stored for the plant food instead of stopping on the surface and passing off by evaporation, or liorne away with the surface waste. Fourth. It deepens and enriches the sod by opening the ground, allowing the roots of the plant to go deeper into the eirth: decaying after harvest, they form this subsoil into surface soii, providing resources for the p ant more reliable, an-1 making the same ground betre. for cultivation for a grea er length of time. Fifth. It avoids drought, by enabling the plant to thrust its roots’deeper into the soil. Sixth. The drainage increases the temperature of the soil In some cases tha average has been increased as much as ten degrees. Seventh. Bv securing uniformity of condition for plant growth, it hastens the maturing of fie crop from ten days to two weeks. Eighth. It enables the farmer to work his land in wet or dry seasons, and insures a return for the labor bestowed With onr land thoroughly drained we can carry on the operation of farming with as great success and as little effect from bad weather as any business which depends on such a variety of circumstances. We shall have substituted certainty for chance, as far as it is in our power to do so, and made farming an art rather than a venture. — Prairie Farmer. Abont Fatten! g Catt'e. The following brieflets are from the reports of the experimental department of the Ontario Agricultural College: Most animals eat in proportion to their weight, under average conditions ot age, temperature and fatness. Give fattening cattle as much as they will eat and oftimes a day. Never give rapid changes of food, but ch-nge often. A good guide for a safe qn mtity of grain per d iv to maturing catile is one pound to each hundred of their weight; thus an animal weighing 1,000 pounds may receive ten of grain. Early stall-feeding iu the fall will make the winter’s progress more certain by 30 per cent. Give as much water and salt at all times as they will take. In using roots it is one guile tv give just so much, in association with other things, so that the animal will not take any water. In buildings have warmth with complete ventilation, without currents, but never under 40 nor over 70 degrees Fahrenheit. A cool, damp, airy temperature will cause animals to consume more food without corresponding result in bone, muscle, flesh or fat, much being used to keep up warmth. Never begin fattening without a defi ite plan. There is no loss in feeding a cattle beast well for the sake of the manure alone. No cattle beast whatever will pay for the direct increase to its weight from the consumption of any kind or quantity of food—the manure must be pr- perly valued. On an average it costs, on charging every possible item, 12 cents for every additional pound added to the weight of a 2 or 3-year-old fattening beast. In this country the market value of store cattle can be increased 36 per cent, d uring six months of the fattening finish. In order to secure a good profit no store cattle of the right stamp and well done to, can be sold at less than 4y cents per pound live weight Stall feeding is better for fat making than lox or yard management, irrespective of health. The growing animal, intended sot beef, requires a little exercise daily, to promote muscle and strength of constitution ; when ripe, enly so much as te be able to walk to market. Keep the temperature of the bodj about 100 degrees, not under 95 »<h over 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Don’t forget that one animal’s met* may bo another animal's poison. It tikes three days of good food to make up for one of bad food. '1: e faster the fattening the more profits; less food, earlier returns and I better flesh. Get nd of every fattening rattle beast before it is 3 years old. Every day an animal is kept after being prime there is loss, exclusive of manure. The external evidences of primeness are full rumps, flanks, twist, shoul-lers, pores, vein and eye. A good cattleman means a difference of one-fourth. He should know the likes and dislikes of every animal. It pays to keep one man in constant attendance on thirty head es fattening cattle. Immediately when an animal begins tn fret lor food, immediately it begins to lose flesh; never check the fattening process. ‘•t ne Petite Fleur et une Raisiu.” Lucy Hooper tells the following in a j Paris letter to the Philadelphia Tele- . yrai'h: One hears very funny things onetimes respecting the odd mistakes j made by English-speaking people when I they attempt to converse in a foreign I tongue, bi t sometimes our European friends make quite as queer mistakes when they attempt to deal with Endish, as witness the following incident vhieh happened to a friend of mine. She was at Baden-Baden last summer, and was stopping at one of the principal hotels there. One evening she was attacked with a pain in her face, which I wnme so severe as to compel her to keep her room. In the course es the evening au American lady friend, who : was staying in the same hotel, came tc visit her. On learning of her suffering ■ condition, Mrs. X declared that she could prepare an application which would cure her at oue. So Mrs. X , rang the bell and requested that the iui teipreter of the hotel might lie sent tc her. Be came, and she requested hin: to bring her a little flour and a raisin \ He received tha order without an < re ni iiiS and departed. He was.gone ar i imneußely long time-so long that th<

ladies were at a loss to imagine what . detained him. Finally he returned, and with a bow presented to them a very small rosebud in a wine glass ("a little I flower " i and a single grape npon a 1 nlate. The ladies laughed so much I over this novel rendering of a very siniI pie phrase by the English speaking officer par ejr<-ellenre of the establish- > l ent. that my friend forgot her pain in | her amusement PITH ANDJPOINT. Trovblb which to-day looks as big as a mill-stone may ere to-morrow’s sundown shrink to the size of an ice-cream saucer. “Does the world miss any one?" you ask. Julia. No, it doesn't miss any one, unless he takes somebody 's money along with him. The Venus of Milo may have belonged to a proud noble family, but she never had any coat-of-arms —at least, she did not require one. Is giving geography lessons down east, a teacher asked a boy what State he lived in. and was amused at the replv. drawled through the boy’s nose, A , state of sin and misery.” j *i When a couple of young folks, writes s a critic, gets so that they want to waltz . all the time at a ball, and have no quad- } rilles, that is a sign that they are never a going to stop until some furniture man F is made happy. t She admitted to her mother that the , voung man had made an impression on her. "Yes," remarked the old lady, “I can see where the impression mashed : the lace flat as a clean napkin. Don’t f , let it happen again.” j “Whes’ix you be back, my dear?’ , inquired a w’ife of an angry husband c who was going off in a hurry. “When- t ever I please, madam 1” “Do try and £ not be later than that if you can help , , jt!” was the meek reply. c Spinks went home the other night 1 afflicted with double vision. He sat for f some time with his eyes riveted on Mrs. 1 S.. and then complacently remarked: s “Well, I declare, ’f you two gals don’t “ look ’nough like to be twins." 1 The man who has never witnessed c two women in Shaker bonnets trying to ’ kiss each other has never experienced the rejuvenating power of a laugh that • 1 could throw him down and kick him in the ribs.— Meriden Recorder. It may hab been de intention at fust fur preachers to hab a disregard ob ’ money, but show me a preacher dat ‘ ’ won t climb down offen a sixty hand ' mule ter pick up a nikel in de road, au’ • I’ll split yer a thousand rails fur nuth1 hi'.—Arkansatc Traveler. A famous North Country clergyman, J whilst preaching from the text "He i giveth His beloved sleep,” stopped in ' . ■ the middle of the discourse, gazed upon i hisslumbering congregation, and said: "Brethern, it is hard to realije the unbounded love which the Lord appears to have for a large portion of mv audi- ! ! tory,” A sabbath-school teacher bad a class , of little girls, and was telling them how j 1 the heathen mothers tlrrew their babies ( 1 into the Ganges. “And what do you think they do that for?” she asked a bright little girl of 4 years, "ho was , intently listening. “Oh, I s’pose the mothers want to see if they can swim,” 1 , answered the little girl. , A teacher in a suburban school was ( . giving her class an object lesson and ( i drew a cat upon the blackboard for its , inspection. She then asked what there ( I was on the cat, and the unanimous reply i ( , was "hair.” "What else?” she queried, j ( There was a long pause of consideraI tion, bnt finally the hand of a bright- ( eyed little 5-year-old shot up. and al- , , most simultaneously came her triumph- , ant answer, “Fleas!” , , i ! A very vain old lady was in the habit ( of dressing like a girl. One day sb« ; called at a certain house, and, during ; the visit she asked a little girl: "Do I ■ you like my hat. Bessie, dear?” “Yes, ] very much; I told mamma the first ] time I saw you wear the bat that I w ant- , ed one like it, but she told ma when I j got to be ninety-five years old and w ore j false curls she would get me just such a j i hat, didn’t you, mamma?” The old ' j i lady left. , “Is IT a fact,” asked one Austin young , i lady of another Austin young lady, , i “that you have consented to marry young Spooney, and are going to be ' married right off." “Yes, we are engaged.” “Why, he has not got any 1 ' money, be is ugly, and is dying with l > consumption. He won’t live two I 1 months.” “That’s the very reason I ’ I marry him. Black is so becoming to ' ' me, that I ought to have l>een a widow t years and years ago.” Texas Siftingg. \ Huxley says there was a time when men walked on all-fours. We believe r you. Huxley, for we have seen them do > it when they were little. There was also a time when men walked on the ' palms of his hands and held his legs up ‘ in the air. The time we refer to is s after the boy has been to a circus, and has seen the clown do it. If there is ! anything else regarding man of which the public is ignorant, the columns of onr paper are at the disposal of Huxley, ’ at our usual advertising rates.—Texas ' Sifting*. a rrencn Dinner. “Wliat an ingenious people are the I i French,” writes a friend from Paris, i “I dined at the table d'hote of a charm- - ingly kept family hotel, and I think the motto of that dinner might well have been multurn in parvo. While wait- } ing for the bouillon to be served I counted the number of people at the . table; there were thirty-two, including ] myself. I ollowing the clear bouillon was a fish, deliciously boiled and served , with a marvelous sauce; then came a joint of mutton: each dish in turn, | , which »as beautifully garnished, was f placed first upon the table to be viewed by the guests and then removed to a , smaller table at the side of the room where stood the maitre d'hotel ready to divide into portions. The joint of mut- . ton. by no means a large one, was cut p deftly into thin slices and passed round by a waiter, another following with t dishes of potatoes, peas, etc. Then there came a salad, and then a pair of plump fowls. These being removed to F the carver’s table, then began the (to s me; most interesting part of the whole g performance. By means of a pair of carving scissors and a sharp knife these pair of fowls were so cut that each one of the thirty-two people re- i ceived a piece; the drum-sticks, the thighs, the wings even were divided s into parts. There was a dainty entree s a pate, and then came an omelette i. i soutle. followed by coffee, cheese, etc., i i and dinner was over. Os course, we n I had plenty of excellent bread, and in - ' front of each plate stood a bottle of good wine. I know I arose from the I table with my appetite quite appeased. If I had not eaten a great deal, I had, r, i at least, seen much; and I know, too, that before midnight I had a craving s i for ’something light.’ But still, I reh I peat, the French are a wonderfully clevo er people.”— Proa regs. Dr Brixton does not take stock In ' Mr. Herbert Spencer’s remarks about Americans killit g themselves with overK work. He sars that the life-insurance ' companies, whose purpose it is to get testimony for business uses rather than for after dinner speeches, show in their \ tables that the expectation of life is in this eonntrv rathe ■ l>etter on the grand 1 ‘ average than in England, France or 1 Germany. j- i u Fate is the dark shadow that forever :e crosses our sunshine.

GOSSIP FOR THE LADIES. The Coquette's Tear#. Rivulets from violet eyt* Tremtde down a riowinc obe-’k: 8b ow rs are they from summer side® Wending tbrouzh a feathered cr- eIL Weep, maid; I from the pain Lightly laden pleasure cam How I'd »oothe your rrief if gr-'atl But I know the ; earls but pranoe Like outriders to the state Os vour smiling rocuHh glance. We. p. O mat I! for there appears Swertest Mdnesa in your tears. Were I not as coy an von I wou'd deem the weepin r *ad, C« ax vou a« I somethin, s do, Ki-u you till we both were glad; But I ll loses Kiss to-dav, W atch you weep and waste away. Ah, v nr hands now hide a laugh. \\ hic'i xonr view well betray*! Come, then, ming'e I winew ' 1 quaff From the cun-like li * you v lee. There. <» ma d —ah. note you cry— There then! there! aad so do II —-Willi Tirebuck. Just Leanml Over and Wept. He was a bachelor, had traveled cxten -ivelv and could speak any language deal or alive. Hieroglvuhics were nothing to him. But when he returned home the other day, and talked to his sister’s baby, uh.ri it cried and was pacified by'its mother, saying: “Dili his anghtv wauty wnncle come homey and scarey warey my little pntsy wutsoc—” he just 1 aned over tlNi back of the chair and wept. Too Lovely for Anjtblng." A bride and bridegroom sat opposite me at the table d’hote. They call for consomme ami sipped it. “I mover so fond of consomme, aren’t you? she asked. “Yes,” said he, “awfully. Its different from most soups,” she continued. “Yes, so it is,” he made answer, “totally different.” “And,” she went on, “it's such a lovely color, too; don't vou think so?” “Lovely color, he repeated. “It’s a different color from oyster soup isn’t it ?” continued Mrs. Younghv-sband, as she sipped it again. “So it is," said the Benedict; “by Jove, I never notice! it before!” Then the waiter brought them fish, and over it thev went in the same idiotia •way. Don’t you think brides awfully funny? Don't you? I do! — Hotel Mail. Womrn as Bank Oflleers> Miss Jennie Jackson, daughter of Collector of Internal Revenue Jackson, of the Twenty-third district of Pennsylvania, is assistant cashier of the Apollo Savings Bank, of Apollo, Pa. She is one of the very few ladies of this conntry who have found such employment, and the first, it is believed, to be honored with an official title. A lady, daughter of the President, formerly officiated behind the counter of an Altoona national bank, but married the cashier and retired. In the People’s Savings Bank, at Newcastle. Pa., a comely damsel can be seen at any time during business hours, with pen behind ear, dishing our lucre or making entries in the books. A lady used to lie employed in a bank at Foxburg, but whether now there the writer is not informed. — Serious Charges Again-t WoiueM. But do women—some women—ever pause to think how objectionable they often make themselves in public? When they enter a car during a shower why do they shake out their dri ping rublier cloaks, saturating men who are not so well protected? Why do they carry their umbrellas in their arms just as they do a I aby, hooking on both ends the coats of gentlemen who pass them ? Why do they also sit down iu a public conveyance with their umbrellas in the same position, and why don’t they s<y “Thank you, s.r," or at least “Thanks," when a man gives them a seat ? Why don't they all go out in a body when they see a male persistently and causelessly expectorating ? Why don’t they wear small hats and bonnets or sit bareheaded in their own lovely hiir (if they have anv; iu a theater? Why do they always ignore t e "line” at the postoffiee or a ticket office? Why do they get into a smokmg car when they say they hate tobacco? In tine, «hy don’t they stay at home on rainy and windy days and leave the pavement free to the awkward eane carriers and umbrella •wingers 7—New Fork Herald. A Bach«l« *8 Wager. A bachelor lawyer at the Luzerne (Pa.) bar has a pretty cousin, at each recurrence of whose birthday he is esteemed entit'ed to the cousinly privilege of a kiss, though he always has to fight for it. Lately, the birthday having gone by during a business trip on which he was away, he asked if he might not have his kiss notwithstanding. To this she strenuously objected. She paid no bills, she said, when the creditor allowed pay day to pass without calling < n her. He piO|K»ed a game of on which he would stake a pair of gloves against his cousinly privilege. She agreed, and she won. Then he st iked a box of bonbons. She assented and won again. Then handkerchiefs, stockings and other articles of female apparel and adornment were put up, and the bachelor’s luck grew no better. They played eleven games and she was victor in them all. Being in Philadelphia a few days later, the loser called at a leading dry-goods house to make his pnrehases. It was not difficult to ask for the gloves and the handkerchiefs, nut when it came to the stock'ngs he was nonplussed. Finally he left it to the shopgirl, who sold liim an even dozen pairs, saying: “The-e long ones will do if she wears suspenders; the others are the onei she wants if she doesn’t wear them.” As the lawyer couldn’t say how this was he took the whole lot. Some Boston Women. A well-dressed, fine-looking woman came into a Boston mantua-maker's one day, and, notwithstanding that other people were within hearing distance, borrowed f 25. “I’ll tell you how to fix it,” she said; “tnck $lO somehow on to ' the bill for that last dress, distribute another $lO upon the trimmings of the I one you’re making now, and the other J $5 can lie pnt on to some things I must have for the children. Mike the whole j bill look plausible, and keep it over a j month longer. I’ll make good the obi ligation at another time; but I must I have the money, and my husband don’t I allow me enough any ther way.” In a fruit shop another day’ the wife I cf the proprietor came in with a friend j and asked the husband to hand the friend 10 cents, with which she had supplied her to get a spool of thread while out. He did so, and the wife walked off, evidently too well used to her penndess condition to see anvthing 1 odd abont it. Another day a woman of I far lower social pretensions than the ; one first mentioned came into a milliner’s store in a town in Maine, and, selecting a handsome feather, asked the price. “Seven dollars." said the shopwoman. “Will you put it bvfir me for five weeks ?” a-ked the purchaser. 1 “I have but $2 to pay on it now, but I like nice thing-, and you'll lie sure to get the money, for my hushand allows me $1 a week!" she exclaimed, looking stout with pride. The shopkeeper complied, and she left, smiling. "Glory be to God!” exclaimed an Irish woman present, as the door closed upon her. “I’ve lived with the man that owns me these thirty years, and he’s handed me Ids wages everv SaturI day night an j nevy me afterward what I do with it ’oeptin’, new and agin i to ax me for a quarter for a glass or a

smoke! Rigns-by! I’ve never wasted his substance; and the same he s found out before this!” — Boston Transcript. Matrlnionlal Stories. At a fashionable wedding, after the departure of the happy pair, a dear little girl, whose papa and mamma were among the guests, asked, with a child's innocent inquisitiveness : “ Why do they throw things at the pretty lady in ths carriage?” “For luck, dear,” replied one of the bridesmaids. “And why,” again asked the child, “doesn't she throw them back?" “Oh,” said the young lady, “that would to rude." “No, it wouldn’t,” jiersisted the dear little thing, to the delight of her doting parents who stood by; “ma does." “Do vou pretend to have as good a judgment as I have?” said an enraged wife to her husband. “Well, no,” he replied deliberately; “our choice of part era for life shows that my judgment is not to be compared with yours." In matters of controversy, however, the woman usually has the best of it. A wittv old author advises men to avoid arg ‘•ments with ladies, bee mse, in spin* n:■< - irns among silks and -atins, a r i sure to to worsted and twisted; ai d when a min is worsted and twisted he may consider himself wound up. The above retort might be matched by a•] 7An ntliATs cnlled from domestic controversy, in which the woman has come off triumpltant. "Really, my dear," said a friend of ours to his better half, “you have sadly disappointed me. ; I once considered you a jewel of a woman, bnt you’ve turned out only a bit of matrimonial paste.” “then, my love,” was the reply, "console yourself with the idea that paste is very adhe- j sive, and in this ease will stick to you as long as you live.” “See here.” said a fault-finding husband, "we must have things arranged in this house so that we shall know w,.ere everything i« kept.” " With all my heart,’ sweetly answered his wile, “ and le: us begin with your late hours, my love. I should dearly love to know where they are kept.” He let things rtin on as usual. It is not often, however. that one comes across such a crashing retort as that which a Sheffield husband received from his wife the other day, through the medium of the public press. He advertised in one of the local journals that he, Thomas A , would no longer be answerable for the debts i incurred by his wife, who seems to have been a tm’y amiable creature, if one niav judge from the advertisement which she published next day in reply: “This is to notify that I, Elizabeth A —am able to pay all mv own debts now that I have got shut of Tommy.” S me husbands would to obliged to confess, if they told the p ain, unvari nisheil truth, that when they led their wives to the altar their leadership came to an end. “Your future husband I seems very exacting; he has been stipulating for all sorts of things," said a mother to her daughter, v. ho was on the point of being married. “Never mind, m imma," said the affectionate 1 girl, who was already dressed for the wedding, “these are his last wishes." This is a complete reversal of the rule I laid down by the old couplet: Msn. love tsy wife; thy hnsband, wife, obev. II ives arvuur hear., we should be head alwsy. In many instances, the state of the . case is rather something like the following; "If I’m not at home from the par.y to night at 10 o’clock,” says the hust’and to his better and bigger-half, “don't wait for me." "That 1 won't," says the lady, significantly; “I won’t wait, but ril’come for you.” He is at home at 10 o’clock precisely. Why They Stared at Him. Mr. Jones went home in a very complacent frame of mind, and as he opened the hall door and let himself in his face was wreathed iu smiles at the thoughts that had taken possession of him. When Mrs. Jones saw him he was still smiling. She Iboked at him, gave a sudden scream and then beg»? to < laugh. “What's the matter, Marii?” a-ke. sharply. N-o-o-thing,” answered his vjife in a convulsive tone of voice; “dinner is ready, Jeptha." , They sat down te the table alone, the . children not being in. Mr. Jones took advantage of their absence to become quite sociable. "How do I look, Maria?” he asked confidentially, with that smirk of com--1 plaeency still on his face. “S-s-pieudid!” answered Maria, with her mouth full of mashed potatoe-s. “The reason I asked is that as 1 came home 1 walked up the avenue and met everybody I knew, and they stared at me so I didn’t know but I looked pale or something.” "You never looked totter.” mumlilcd Mrs. Jones, burying her face in her plate. i “People acquire a habit of staring in , the city,” pursued Jones. “I’ve often told yon so, Jeptha, bnt you always said it was my fault —that I must do something to attract their attention," said Mrs. Jones. “Well, it is the gentlemen who stare: at you, Maria. That is quite different. Now it was the ladies who looked at me.” observed Jones, loftily. “You’re such a tine-looking man. you know, dear." said his wife, nearly smothered with laughter. “A-hem.” murmured the lost man, “it shows your sex has good ta-te, my dear. Wliv, some of them lovely voung ladies actually smiled npon me. I shall never dare to walk again.” At this moment the children came whooping in. Willie looked at his father, bent nearly double and gave a loud guffaw. “Well, you are a side-show, pa!” he shouted. “What do you mean, William? Why this rudeness?” began Jones, but his hopeful was not to l>e squelched. "Ain’t he a menagerie, though?” he continued. “Say, Pa! why are you like me?” Jones only glared. “Because you are a little shaver! Say, pa. want a hand-glass, coz I’ll sell you one cheap!” Jones rushed to the hat-rack intending to get his cane for Willie’s edifica- ! tion, bnt as he glanced in the oval mirror in the center and saw one side of his face denuded of his Burnside w hisker, while the other ’.va: ornamented with its full appendage, he stopped ami then went slowly and sadly up ' stairs. He had asked the bartor to ■ take off half his whi-kers and that functionary obliged him literally. Poor Jones, when anybody looks at him now'l he has an attack of chills.— Detroit Post. A Horrible Weapon. Capt. Sherborne, of the British armv, wa- wounded in a most singular wav hi Afghanistan, After a battle he found au Afghan lying on the fled, with both legs shot away. Fe raised him in his arms to curry him to an ambulance. But the man suddenly wrenched himself away and, standing erect on his bleeding sttimps, he seized one of his own severed lees lying beside him and snuck »t Capt. Sherborne with furious rage, making a terrible gash down his chest with the jagged tone. He then dropped beck dead, and Opt. Slierton - fell famtiag by ins side. Snertorne savs it was the most thrilling moment of Ida life. A MAN who can’t excite enw or jealousy needn't expiect to excite admiration ant. respect. The who ha -no energies oannot toast that ha haa anv fnends.

How Clay Pipes are Made. It is popularly believed, say the Detroit Free Press, that all clay pipes are either made in Europe or from clay brought from the other hemisphere, but such is not the case, as a very large share of the clay pipes made in America are made of clay found at and near Woodbridge, N. J. The clay come to Detroit by the car load, and the first step toward preparing it for molding is to sufficiently dampen it with water to make it pliable. This is done by placing it in a tank, where it soaks in water about twenty-four hours. It is then hammered with iron bars, thus ridding it of any lumps or dry chunks. Then the moulding begins, tho workman taking a lump of clav in each hand, and by squeezing anA rolling it moulds the pieces into a rough stem thrice larger than the finished pipe stem, having a rough ball at the end. These “rolls" as they are call, are piled on wooden trays, sixteen to each tray, after which thev are dried, either by the sun or artificial means, according to the weather. After having been dried, not to hardness, but sufficient to dispose of all superfluous dampness, the rolls are ready to have the stem drilled and the bowl formed. To drill the stem the workman holds a small iron rod -the size of the stem hole—and with his left hand pulls the clay over the rod instead of shoving the rod through the stem. To do this the workman is guided solely bv the sense of touch in his finger tips, and that sense is so accurate that the hole is invariably made straight and equidistant from all points of the exterior of the roll. The ball at the end of the roll is turned up, and then roll and 1 rod are places! iu an iron matrix which presses the pliable clay into the desired outside pattern. Then the matrix and its contents are placed in a hand press. ■ and workmen, by pulling a lever, forms the hole of the pipe bowl. The moulded pipe, still soft and pliable, next passes to the hands of the trimmers, girls who shajie off the superfluous clay, making the joints of the matrix. Then the pipes are placed in fire-proof “saggers,” and the loaded saggers arc piled into a large fnrnace. This furnace has six fines at the tottom. and the six sheets of flame at the bottom concentrate at the top, thus making the h at even throughout. Until the pipes go into the furnace they are 1 due in color, but when they come out they are pure dead white.

PRINC!PAU*LIN.E eHpBTES;. Qi iCIIEST Md And -ST !!« to St prints in I. Übgr. Tv;>ks. Demc3j. Nt w Mt itco, _ vMoa. ■ UP,°HIO A C O :$ LuuSe has rosuT ".r f-'" A “ ux •*”»< • and S' Nai ** ..1 to :• .u w ’ Great btst equipood roughCa iU.voad In tbe Worl d fur KANSAS CITY X. onitnade a/ t . ■ u 1.'... ’ '' ’ •’ * I. I POTTER. PERCEVAL LOWELL W I'ke/ye#’/* ITcnaifer. G<n A CliicMru. 11l ebicaiso.ilGRAND RAPIDS & INDIANA RAILWAY. In Effect October 15, 1882* €<>T I MBCS TIME. _ ’ “ * \ ,: i: | ' sun- d ~-it 1h , S?'. 5 ' ; • 'in ' D.. .7K- . . . iTarn 74 pm Rickin' I;d iv 3 (kpiu 11 10 it) A) WiiH-L—'.-r 4 u l.’Upm ’! V Bidu. ville >4 ;>J 1J M 11 4U PorUa:«i i |I 00 .12 Irani ! TWatr. r 613 210 ’1 25 , Fort W«yue .«»r 110 .3 12 .2 20 I Fort Wavn.‘ h -3» I 3 10 t * KendaDwl!" 4*’ 430 j 9 42 i Wt.L-xirt I 6 08 542 Ir. Virk.-bjitf 7 15 6 41 12 l«pin i KataasiMbOQ.. ar ; 50 7 20 12 •' 1 Kauiduzco Iv 8 €5 7 40 2 Alk-i,an .... y3O jo 50 Grand R^pid*.... .a; *lOlO 950 *4 25 : Grand Rapid* Jv 7 4.*»aiu .10 21 t 5 15 D. ft M. ('r ising .... ,55 10 37 I 5 35 Ho want City 9 17 'l2ospm Fijfitaiida iio 14 i i1 01 753 * Rend Cl tv 10 SO 1 2UO 15 W Cadfflac ar l2(Jspm 315 10 10 I Cadfihr iv 1 330 .11 JO Traverse City. .. . ar 5 55 Kuka.-1a . ' . ... 527 ilium Mahcnona.. 6M 1W pyiw-FadiM l:::...: ;n .s?? 1% -keV ' ’ !7 50 '4 15 Hari - r spring n 25 Mr kinaw I I ...I L®— I GOING "hOCTH. . 7" So. 4. j No. | Ma . i taw. It ...... / T7T.. j." v»piu Hari- ;■ Springs ' 6 40am 7 **' I BovneFaJh * I I7 59 ‘1 52 Manc-,‘l-na i i 9 07 3 10 Kalkaska : L I 9 44 !3 50 Travers City i I i 8 25 .. . » atldlfc- ar .. I! 42 |5 4* (TadiUac ....» Iv 4 ’tn 12term 61' , Hei d Cjty 513 .1 16 I7 45 Pi ' Ra’ .t* 550 • 1 rj> $ H ward < 6 47 2 48 9 1. D. &M. Cms«iag 'R 05 i 4 14 ! 10 37 Grand Kai ids ar 820 '4 35 10 35 Grand liapida 7 tOam, 5 00 lOOptn ' Allegan ■ 5 00 1 10 K daiitaz >o ar » i t 7 00 252 . KaianiH*w>...... % ..lv 9 05 715 25. tirksburg ; '7 47 "2* StunOH 10 82 ' 848 440 Kendallville 11 46 1 1»> 05 0 ® Fort W.«y t )e ar I ‘l)pm 11 2f ; ‘ Fort Wa>ne Iv 120 6 15am 12 mam P«-eatnr ,2 10 704 i1 15 Portland 310 ’s OR tII LidtreviUe i. 3 57 : 8 2t "01 Winchester. i3O ;8 54 3as ' Richmond 500 955 I 4 S 3 I t illciliDStJ !7 40 .1 iOpm 735 ‘ - No. 5 leaves Cincinnati and Nc, 8 leaves foaw Citv daily, except Saturday. Ail other trains d ily except Sunday. I Woodruff sleeping cars on Nos. 5 and ■ he' > tween Cincinnati and Grand liapids, and sleep* I ing and chair earn on same trains between Grand Rapids and Petoskey; also Woodruff sleeping cars on No«. 7 and 8 I between Grana Rapids and Mackinaw Citv. A. B- LEET. Genl Pass. Airent. TOLEDO. CINCIHNVI 4 ST. LOUIS H I Time Table—ln ESbct sept. 4. 1882. Going Western I -I 1 I 7 j 5 ! Diviaion. I A A.31 r. M. A. M. Lv. Ar. r. M. P. 3L p ’ ! 12 40' 535 .... Delphos 8 I • 213 7 (Vi. Wiltshire.. .. 7toE w 'i • - I 329 X3l . Bluffton.... 550 !•' 4. I 3 47 8 50 .Libert,.' Centre.| 5 31 K» 2» 4F'9 18 ... .Warren 5 1° '7 I 5 45, 5 <?4 10 10;. . Marion *W. '7 . 7 BG. 4 33 .Kokomo • 4 ' i ..... Ar. Lv. I Gomft South. < Dn. on 1 Goins N'ith-. r “L in vision. j V M. P.M. IrV. Ar. P M. p < I 50 Delnbos. ... 12 1510 1; i •• •«' 3 33 Celina W *• * 7 * 51 4 30 ... O’good V** : 7is 4 A5. V. , Callies ... 9IS . ? ; 750 5 :?•. 'ovinrton... 8 45 t> •»* - « '• 1 , 841 631 .... Union ' 55. J ' 1 18 45 6 35. Harrisburg... T ’9 io' 6 56’S-iUwater June. 7’26 3 i I 925 » 15 Da' ton ’ « s*’ •_ ••♦• Ar Lv. A j West. Frankfcrt and ( Golngj'** - 1 1 li' t’ s Line Ph *'■lL 7 | » M.Xv. Ar- * r * 45 f, 33 . . Kokom j ... 7 45 *I, i3 7 «»1 6 :»»!•■ K> 7 so H. ..Frankfort. If 6 30 I_2__—T A PHILLIPS. I-H 2 tosi. ?l_aa»e: Gen-PaM j 1 w. s Matthias, a»s'i. Gen p»s=