Decatur Democrat, Volume 27, Number 2, Decatur, Adams County, 13 April 1883 — Page 4
YTTROUGH TIME AXD ETERNITY. I have done at last with the bitter lie—The He I hav ? lived so many years. I’ve hated myself t hat I could not die, Body as well as soul. What! tears I— Tears and kisses on lip and brow! What use are tears and kisses now? ’Twas not so hard. J trot a kerchief wot In the deadly hleswinc that quiets pain. And backward the tide of suffering set; Peace swept over the blood and brain— Utter peace to the finger-tips; And nf)w these kisses on lias and lips! Sweet caresses for lips all cold. And loud laments for perished breath, For the faded cheek, and the hair’s dim gold— But not a tear for the sadder death ‘•I died that day. How strange the late That brings your sorrow all too late! All these years, with my dead, dead heart, I’ve met the world with smiling eyes; I feigned sweet life with perfect art, And the world has respect for well-told Ilea; Ami I looted the world—for no one said, "Behold this woman—she is dead.” And no one said, as you passed along, “Behold a murderer!’’ No one knew; Yon carefully covered the cruel wrong; That the world saw not, was enough for you; You had wisdom and worldly pride; And I had silence—for I had died. The world says now lam dead; but 0— Lean down and listen —'tis al! in vain! Again in my heart bleeds the cruel blow; Again I am mad w ith the old-time pain; Again the waves of anguish roll— For I have met with my murdered souk O never to find the peace I crave— Twere better to be as I have been: In the place of the fleeting years, I have Eternity now to love you inEternity now to feel the blow Your dear hands gave so long ago. —Carlotta Perry* in Lijwtncott's Magazine. Claque vs. Cabal. A Unique Encounter in the Theater Francaise—How a Play Was Killed, Despite Ofliotal Protection—Au Actress' Revenge. Those who ’ are conversant with the lighter French literature of the last century have doubtless read, or tried to read, “Angola,” a strange production published anonymously, with the usual accompaniments of frontispiece and vignettes, and purporting to be an exact description of the society and manners of the time. It is neither better nor worse than the generality of novels of the period; inferior to those of Crebillon the younger in style and felicity of expression, but not without a certain gayety and animation, the effect of which is too frequently marred by an affectation of language apparently copied from the “Dictionuaire des Precieuses.” It is, however, a curious book, and, although now most forgotten, obtained at the time of its appearance a fair share of popularity, less perhaps on account of its intrinsic merits than because. notwithstanding the absence of an author's name on the title-page, it was known to have been written by the Chevalier de la Morliere, an episode in whose life we are about to narrate. This singular personage, born at the very commencement of the eighteenth centnry and dying within a few years of its close, was a native of Grenoble, and began his career as a “mousquetaire, ” during the regency of the Duke of Orleans. Shortly after receiving his appointment he came to Paris, where, as far as his slender finances permitted, he frequented the society of young men of his own age, and speedily became notorious both from his overweening arrogance and from his skill as a swordsman. He lorded it at the cases and other places of public resort, where his especial friends and admirers were wont to assemble; and by the hardihood of his opinions and his readiness to maintain them, acquired a sort of influence as a literary and dramatic censor which even the actors of the Comedie Francaise—in those days by no means the most submissive of mortals—were compelled to recognize. With the exception of “Angola,” his attempts at authorship had s'gnal failures; half a dozen other novels of a very inferior stamp and a host of pamphlets on every conceivable subject had fallen stillborn from the press, while of his two comedies, “Le Creole” and *Le Gouverneur,” produced respectively at the Theater Francaise and the Comedie Italienne, neither had survived the first night's ordeal. These mortifying results, though he affected to treat them philosophically, were scarcely calculated to render him indulgent to his more fortunate colleagues; and he had little difficulty in organizing a regular cabal of which he was the head, the subordinate members being any chance recruits, such as disappointed playwrights or literary hacks, who passed most of their time at the Case Procope, and who eagerly seized the opportunity offered them of venting their spite against a successful dramatist, or a comedian by whom their own pieces had been refused. Posting themselves in different parts of the theater, but always under the eye of theii chief, they awaited his signal to commence the attack, and conducted their operations so skillfully that many of the uninitiated spectators, far from imagining that they were acting in concert, concluded that the play or the pei former, whichever might be the object of that night’s disapprobation, deserved to be hissed, and not infrequently added their own sibilations to those of the conspirators. This state of things had continued for some months, and at least half a dozen pieces had been brought to an untimely end by their combined efforts, when, as ill luck would have it, the victim next selected proved more than a match for the cabal, and —but we let the chevalier tell his own story. “Mlle. Clairon was then at the height of her reputation, and reigned despotica’ly over the Theater Francaise. I never admired her acting, but preferred a thousand times the energy and passion of Mlle. Dumesnil to the so-called * classic’ frigidity of her rival. 1 was not the only one who disputed the sovereign merit of the latter, although no one else dared to say so; I was aware of her vanity, and took delight in mortifying it. She perceived my intention, and openly declared that I should soon have good reason to regret having offended her; but I despised her threats, and, as the sequel will show, I was wrong. I ought to have remembered that the personal intercession of Queen Marie Leczinska had alone prevented Freron from being imprisoned at her instigation. Not that she contemplated doing me the honor of sending me to the Fort I’Eveque; she had another plan in view, as you will see. “It was, I think, in 1761, that M. de Voltaire's tragedy of ‘Tancrede’ first made its appearance on the stage of the Comedie Francaise. A few minuted before the commencement of the performance I entered the theater, and took my usual seat in the pit. I had just left the Case Procope, where I had expressed my opinion pretty freely respecting the forthcoming novelty, avowing my hostility both to the author and to Mlle. Clairon, and prophesying that the piece would never reach the fourth act. Each of my friends was at his |>ost, ready to second me in my crusade against the bad taste of the public! so I sat quite at my ease and calmly awaited the rising of the curtain. My two neighbors on either side were s’rangers to me. and I took no particular notice of them beyond remarking that both more resembled ‘ forts de la Halle’ than habitual frequenters of the theater, my attention being drawn to 'Tancrede,' which had just begun. I allowed the earlier scenes to pass without interruption, but toward the end of the first act prepared myself for a vigorous manifestation of discontent I had. however, hardly uttered a prefatory murmur, when the two individuals on my right and left simultaneously pressed so closely on me that I was nearly stifled. A cry of pain escaped me, Upon which they drew back aTlittle, bn*.
as soon as I had recovered my breath and opened my lips to protest against a passage in the play which struck me as commonplace, they closed in upon me a second time, and with such force that I was literally jammed in between them. Without onee turning their eyes in my direction, and to all appearance deeply interested in what was going on, they held me so tightly that it was impossible for me to move; until, seeing that I remained perfectly quiet, they again retreated, paying no attention to my indignant remonstrances, which were lost amid the shouts of the author’s partisans at the close of the act. When the next began I was more determined than ever to express my opinion in regard to Mlle. Clairon, and was in the act of taking from my pocket the whistle I always carried with me on these occasions, when my right-hand neighbor, grasping my arm so violently that tlie whistle fell on the ground, muttered in my ear, ‘Silence!’ This was too much, and I struggled to release myself, when my other arm was suddenly seized by the individual on my left, who, in a very significant tone, bade me be stilt. I tried to rise from my seat, but, pinned as I was, I could not. “ ‘lf you say a word or make the slightest movement,’ whispered my persecutor, ‘we have strict orders to turn you out of the theater.’ “Perceiving that I was in the hands of two police agents in disguise, and that any attempt at resistance would be both physically impracticable and derogatory to my dignity, I merely inquired if they knew me. “ ‘Certainly, monsieur,’ replied the same individual. ‘You are the Chevalier de la Morliere, and my comrade and I are here to watch you.’ “ ‘To-day only ?’ “ ‘To-day and to-morrow, and every day until further orders.’ “ ‘By what right ?’ I asked. “ ‘Hush! Don’t you hear Mlle. Clairon speaking. What an actress, what a glorious creature she is!’ he cried, applauding with all his might. “I felt myself growing purple with rage, and, turning to my neighbor on the left, who appeared less enthusiasticaUy disposed, ‘lt seems, then,’ I said, ‘that in future, whenever I come to the theater, I am condemned to sit between you and your comrade ?’ “ ‘Exactly, M. le Chevalier, and for my part I am delighted, for no one is a greater admirer of M. de Voltaire’s tragedies.’ “ ‘I ought to be flattered,’ I remarked with affected calmness, ‘that my company gives you such pleasure.’ “ ‘Ours need not be disagreeable to M. le Chevalier, if he chose,’ he replied in a significant tone. ♦ “ ‘How do you mean ?’ “ ‘Monsieur has only to abstain from expressing any disapprobation: no very . difficult matter when the piece is like : the one they are playing now. Listen, ■ monsieur, is it possible to imagine anything finer? Bravo, Voltaire!’ “ ‘Bravo, Clairon!’ shouted the other. “My position was no longer endur- I able, and at the close of the third act I rose from my seat and abruptly quitted the theater, boiling with stippi eased . fury, and invoking maledictions on the I actre-s who had played me this scurvy I trick. For the next two davs I care- ■ fully kept aloof from the scene of my ■ disaster, but toward the end of the J week, from sheer force of habit, returned thither, and found my two J agents, as I expected, awaiting my ar- | rival. Ushering me to my seat with a . profusion of bows, they placed themselves as before on either side of me, but this time I had determined to go upon a different tack, and give them no opportunity of molesting me. To their great astonishment I remained perfectly still, although I confess that the martyrdom I underwent in listening with an indifferent air to M. de Voltaire’s rhapsodies was almost beyond my powers of endurance, and stoically refrained from the slightest mark of impatience. or dissatisfaction until the curtain finally dropped, and my sufferings were at an end. I felt sure that the day would come when I should have the laugh on my side, and I had not long to wait. “The next novelty produced at the Theater Francaise was not, I rejoice to say, by Voltaire; but an adaptation by Saurin of a lugubrious English drama entitled ’Blanche et Guiscard,’ the subject of which was taken from Gil Blas.’ In it Clairon had a principal part, of which report spoke highly, and had re- j eeived instructions from Garrick how to 1 play it. I was the more disposed to lie I critical on this occasion, having myself previously treated a similar subject, and offered my piece to the managing committee, who had unanimously refused it. Under these circumstances, it was impossible to avoid being present at the first performance of ‘Blanche et Guiscard.’ “1 found my two agents at the door of the theater, evidently expecting me. When we were seated, the one my right, addressing me with obsequious civility, deigned to express his regret at my absence during the last week, assuring me that I had missed some delightful ' pieces. 'However,’ he added, ‘we felt that M. le Chevalier would be here tonight, as all Paris is anxious to see the novelty.’ “ ‘ Who are the principal actors in the | new piece?’ I inquired, in an indifferent tone. “ ‘ Bellecour, Mlle .Dubois and Clairon.’ “ ‘ Ah ! Mlle. Dubois is a pretty girl.’ “ ‘Charming, monsieur.’ ” ‘ And what do people say of the piece ?’ I continued. ’ “'Ma fol, monsieur, what can they Bay of it until they have seen it acted ? ’ interposed my left-hand neighbor, with a self-satisfied grin- “ ‘ I mean, is it likely to be a sucoesa or a failure ? ’ “ ‘ Oh, monsieur, a success, of course.’ “ ‘ Why of course ? ’ “ ‘ Because the author, M. Saurin, is * member of the Academy.’ “ ‘ That proves nothing.’ I remarked. “ ‘lt proves quite enough for us,’ he replied, sullenly, and the conversation dropped. The first act of ‘Blanche et Guiscard,’ not withstanding some picturesque scenery and costumes, struck me as insufferably tedious; and, careful as I was to avoid any open display of hostility, I could not resist the temptation of indulging in a hearty yawn, which proved so contagious that both my neighbors unsuspiciously followed my example. A repetition of the same maneuver gradually infected • those around me, and by the middle of the third act the entire pit, boxes and gallery were yawning as if for a wager. I watched these symptoms of weariness, which boded no good to M. _ Saurin's drama, with intense delight, and every now and then fanned the flame by a fresh demonstration. In vain the actors exerted themselves to the utmost, the insidious enemy was too much for them, and little by little they, in their turn, yielded to its influence. From that moment the fate of the piece was decided, and I was on the point of risking a fracture of my jaw byway of giving a final quietus, when my neighbor on the right, perceiving at length how matters stood, suddenly checked me. “ ‘M. le Chevalier,’ he whispered, ‘allow me to remind you that you are going too far.’ “ ‘ln what way?’ I asked. “ ‘Every one can understand that you are yawning on purpose.’ “ ‘How can I help yawning if the niece bores me?’
“ The agents looked at each other, | visibly embarrassed. “ ‘true,’ murmured the one on my left ‘lf ft does bore you,’ growled the bne on my right, ‘you need not let other people see it.’ “ 'Tell me frankly,’ I said, looking the speaker full in the face, ‘does it amuse you ?’ “ I can’t say that it does,’ was his candid reply. “ Tills settled the question, and they allowed me, without further hindrance, to contribute my share of yawns to the general fund: and I felt, as I remarked the listless indifference of the public to the w'oes rtf the unfortunate ■Blanche et Guiscard,’ that I had gained my point, and emerged victorious from a struggle in which the odds were certainly not in my favor. “But I had yet to learn with what an implacable adversary I had to deal, and I soon discovered to my cost that the annoyances to which I had hitherto been subjected were trifles compared with what was about to follow. Finding that her efforts to stifle my opposition had signally failed. Mlle. Clairon determined to erush me altogether, and rid herself of my unwelcome presence in away that, I confess, I little expected. Profiting by the exceptional position enjoyed by her, she solicited and obtained from M. de Sartine, the Lieutenant of police, an order prohibiting me in future from entering the Comedie Francaise; and this iniquitous infraction of the law was duly notified to me. Justly indignant of such nnheard-of exercise of arbitrary power. I applied to the magistrate in question for redress; and, after several vain attempts, succeeded in obtaining an interview with him, but to no purpose, for he very curtly informed me that he could do nothing for me. “ ‘The fact is,’ he said, ‘Mlle. Clairon has great influence, and you have none; beside, your reputation is, to say the least, very much against you, and you have brought this upon yourself. If you have not chosen to attend to the warnings already given you, it is your own fault.’ “ ‘But,’ I objected, ‘there is no law that iustifies such a prohibition. “ ‘True,’hereplied, ‘but Mlle. Clairon has enlisted on her side all the "gentlemen of the Chamber;” she has told them that it is quite impossible for her to act in the presence—l use her own words —of a monster like you. and that, unless her demand be complied with, she will retire from the stage.’ “ ‘Very likely,’l remarked, ‘considering that hardly a week passes without her threatening the same thing.’ “ ‘That may be,’ coldly answered M. de Sartine, ‘but it is no affair of mine— I merely obey orders;' and. turning his back on me as a signal that the interview was at an end, he left me to my own reflections. “What was Ito do? Submit patiently to the insult, and tacitly own myself in the wrong, or boldly continue the struggle, and prove that the Chevalier de la Morliere was not to be humiliated by the caprice of a vindictive and ambitious woman? I chose the latter alternative, and commenced operations by laying before the authorities a detailed statement of my case, which no one took the trouble of reading. I endeavored to interest in my favor several influential personages Os the court, but I in vain; the few who listened to me ■ shrugged their shoulders with evident indifference, and declined to interfere. As a last resource I resolved to appeal to the sympathy of my fellow-citizens, and circulated a memoir in which I demanded by what right I alone was debarred from frequenting a place of public entertainment, a privilege open to all who had the money to pay for it. This had the desired effect; for. in order to avoid a popular scandal, the Lieutenant of police, turning a deaf ear to the entreaties and menaces of Mlle. Clairon, decided on withdrawing the veto, and I was once more at liberty to pass my evenings unmolested at the Comedie Francaise. Had this occurred in Yenice, it is probable that my pertinacity would have entailed on me the unpleasant consequences of an inch or two of cold steel; whereas in Paris, fortunately for me, a ‘ brsvo’ is not yet a national institution, or I should hardly have lived to tell my story.”— Charles Hervey, in Longman’s Magazine.
Scientific Nursing. There is no subject of so much general interest as this, concerning which | there Is, at the same time, such a widely prevalent ignorance. There are few, especially among women, upon whom l will not devolve, at some time in their lives, the care of the sick: fewer still who wil 1 not, at some time, become dependent upon such care; and it might naturally be supposed that matters of such primary and universal importance i as sanitary conditions and the practical ' application in the sick-room of scientific : principles would be too familiar to every one to need to be further enlarged upon. But the fact is, it too i frequently happens that all the scien- | tific knowledge which ever enters the I sick-room comes in with the doctor and goes out again with him. This state of i things requires to be improved. Know ledge, and that correct knowledge we call science, is just as indispensable to j the nurse as to anybody else. It is a great mistake to suppose that all women —even all good women—make good nurses. The best intentions of the tendered heart may coexist with an utter lack of executive ability, and be more than counterbalanced by ignorance and prejudice. Native aptitude gives advantages, but it cannot be relied upon alone. Even those who possess, in the highest degree, the natural gift of ministration which renders them so acceptable to the invalid would find their power of usefulness very largely increased by a familia’ ity with what may be properly called the science of toe sick-room. Physicians are recognizing more and more the importance of hygienic agencies in the treatment of disease, and with this there has come an increasingly urgent call for the scientific instruction and practical training of those who are to take charge of invalids. Science explains the conditions upon which the art of the nurse depends, and lays down principles which cannot be violated without in jury; but it is not at all necessary to make a parade of technical language in stating its requirements.— Popular Science Monthly. Party Bric-a-Brac. “Shawl I?” he asked dreamily, as he held out the cobwebby meshes of a white mantle when the last dance was over. “A-lace, no!” she replied, “it is too ar.a. give me my fur-lined cloak.” He wrapped out a single oath =he entangled his boot-heel in the meshes of the lace shawl, “Darn it,” said he, “it will never show!” A young rival, who watched them make their e.ieape. remarkeil: “It's very singular that he should suspect that lovely gurrel of carrying comealed weapons!” “How do you know that he does?” asked a friend. “Why, I heard him ask her where her arms were.” — Detroit Post. “Ex Passant.”— “What are vou always thinking about, Ida?” “I‘am always thinking about ncthing, auntie. I never think about anything unless I happen to think of nomethiog to think I about."
DRESSING FOR THE STAGE. Where Some of the Stars Get Their Good Clothes, “Who makes Edwin Booth’s cos- ' tumes?” asked a New York reporter of a well-known costumer. . He shrugged his shoulders. “Is it a secret?” said I. ' I “No, he has not had any made for a , long time.” “Why?” “tie does hot think it necessary to have fine stage clothes; he is attractive , enough himself.” "Who makes what he does use?” , “His dresser—a man who travels with , him everywhere, and helps him to make up for the stage.” “How does Barrett dress?” “He is very particular about his rags —that’s what we call them in the trade —and is better dressed for his parts than any tragedian on the American stage.” “Lester Wallack is a terror to costumers, isn’t he?” “He would be if we had him to dress •—he is such a dandy. A man whois we call Miss Flannery has made his costumes for years, and attends him in the green-room, Wallack is just as finical about his hair and mostachios as he is about his trowsers, so that altogether, Miss Flannery has as much as one man can do without going mad.” “Are not some of the younger actors extravagant?” “Yes, Frederick Spalding spent a small fortune on his wardrobe; His Claude Melnotte costume cost S2OO or S3OO. He had great confidence in his genius, and his mother had money; but the youth soon found out that fine toggery does not make a fine actor.” “ What actress has the finest wardI robe?” “The most elaborate costumes I have ever seen are those make for Margaret Mather, who was recently brought out at Chicago. Her Juliet dress was made for a Spanish Princess, w ho was to have | been married, but her lover died before the wedding day. Sim went into a convent, and the dress was sold, and found its way to Ameriea. It was literally I covered with pearls.” “Difl she know how to wear her magnificent petticoats?” “No; she has some dramatic talent, but no know ledge of manners whatever. She does not know bow to give you her hand projierly/' “Are actors good pay?” This question threw the costumer into a wild state of excitement. "The very worst people to trust in the world,” he said, w ith asw eeping ■ gesture. “You would be astonished to see our black list; it contains names 1 w hich you would never dream of. Some managers are no better. We have several suits in the courts all the time. I can't go to the theater without seeing villians whow on t pay tlieir bills. It knocks all the pleasure out of the play for me, so 1 seldom go.” The Lime-Kiln (Tah. *T see by de papers,” said Brother Gardner as he motioned to Samuel Shin to drop one of the back windows, “I see by de papers dat Prof. Gilliam predicts dat in 1983 de cull'd man will be in de ascendency. Jist so. Well drap two mo’ winders on’ discuss de subjiek a little. “It am a beautiful landscape to look Upon, an’ I really pity de poo’ white man. He has bin lordin' it ober de world at large so long, an’ has made sich progress in science an’ ferlosophy dat it will seem purty tough fur him to saw our wood, clean our alleys an’ blaek our butes.” At this point Reconstructed Taylor began to stamp his feet and clap his hands and seek to start an encore, but the President interrupted him with: “Brndder Taylor, drap it! Now draw yer feet out of de alley an’ doan’ move agin till de meetin’ am out! No doubt you am tickled half to death, but let us see what tickles you. In a hundred y’ars we am to be top of de heap. We am to lose our kinks and grow straight ha’r, our feet am to be pared down, our i noses am to be trimmed down, our mouths puckered on a new plan, an' we am to lose our brunette complexions. Den our heads am to be reshaped an’ restuffed, our speech filed down and sandpapered, an’ we am to progress faster in 100 y'ars dan de white man has in 1.000. I think I see us at de pinnacle! We look awful purty at de top of de heap! Nobody would know us as we stan' erect on de cap sheaf an’ wave de glorious banner. “MyTren’s,” continued the President, after a long and solemn silence, “if Prof. Gilliam am not a fool he am de Hex’ bes’ thing —a crank. One hundred y’ars will not do what he says. We can’t frtch it. We was bo’n in de wrong time of de moon, brought up on de wrong sort o’ eatables, an’ eddecated in de wrong kind of skules. We have an’ • shall progress. Our chill’en will know mo’ dan we do, an’ deir chill’en will be a peg higher, an’ de day wjll come when we shall stan’ higher in all de arts an’ sciences, but we mils' not forgit de present. Dar am mouths to feed an’ bodies to clothe an’ house rent to pay an’ fuel to buy, an’ he who loses a day's ■work to dream ober Prof. Gilliam’s prophecy shows his laek of sense. If, ayter all de present members of dis club have bin sleepin’ for half a century in de grave, de white man begins to lose his grip an’ de black man begins to cctch on, it will be all right. Meanwhile, doan’ miss a cog. Doan' l>e made fools of. Doan’ try to clothe de chill’en wid the raiment of a hundred y’ars hence, an' doan’ expeek dat de predickshun dat we shall ultimately warm our feet in de halls of Congress am gwine to satisfy present hunger. We will now tighten our Wits an’ pitch into de regular order of bizness.”— Free Press. An American Joke fn Paris. The feast was set, the guests were | met, when a young man entered in.' “Sir,” said he to the master of the house, “I have come to yon upon a very I important mission. Were it otherwise, I should not have ventured to call npon vou upon this auspicious day, when, as I perceive, you are about to celebrate the betrothal of your fair daughter. Still, as it may save you slo,ooo—but if yon are engaged I will retire.” “By no means, my dear sir, by no means,” said the father of the bride ex- ! pectant, warmly; “we are just about ■ sitting down to dinner, but you join us, and, after dinner, we can discuss mat- , ters.” The young man allowed himself to be induced to join the jovial company, where he eats for two and drinks for ‘ three. At the conclusion of the feast the i father escorts him to a private apartment and begs him to reveal Lis i business. “I think, sir,” he says to the stranger, offering him a cigar of- prime I quality, “that you observed that von | could show me how to save $10,00*).” “Precisely,” says the stranger, lig' t- . j ingtbeeigar. “Now, yon intend nmrrv- . ing your daughter to* that amLlp hit I ' somewhat weak-minded youth dw.ui ; stairs, and giving her a niarria-re nor- : tion of $20,000. Give her to me. .-ir ’ I and I’ll take her with half the moi i That'll leave vou SIO,OOO ahead A man is a good fellow until he gets an office that involves the disposal of . patronage and when he has done Ids , best to please everybody he discovers, r i in the thousand ways by which dis! appointed friends can convey such an . assurance, that he isn’t that sort of a | fellow at all.— Brooklyn Eagle.
' An Astonished Recruit. ■When Col. Coppinger, the sqn-ifinaw es Senator Blaine, was stationed at Camp Verde, Arizona, as the Captain of one of the companies of the Twentythird Infantry, in 1872, the writer happened to be the witness of an incident that illustrates the character and disposition of the man. A band of recruits arrived one day. filled with fear and terror of the officer under whom thev were to serve for the ensuing five years. Report and rumot had pictured Coppinger to them as being a pirate Captain and a persecutor of the rank and file. Coppinger, attired in a suit of ck' lies that might have distinguished a teamster, was in the sutler's B t°J® v' en one dr the feernits entered. "I v < uld like to see this Capt. Coppingor ’ s. id the recruit. “I understand he’s a hard man.” Everybody present ex- ] . cted Coppinger to annihilate the newcomer. but he did not. On the contrarv, lie engaged him in a pleasant conversation, in which Capt. Coppinger was abused in a manner that caused the 1 uers to fear that the private would be punished for his temerity. Finally, when tne vocabulary was exhausted, ( ■ pinger introduced hitnself to the lutoi.isbed soldier. "I hope you will think better of wl at you have said,” remarked the Captain, as he turned to leave. "Well, see here,” replied the r< emit, “I suppose this means guardhouse and ball and chain for me, but, if I have to die for it, I must insist that, act rdiug to all reports, you are a—— tvraut.” Coppinger looked the fellow iii the eye a minute. “I like your courage,” fie said, when at length he broke tlie silence. “Come up to my quarters with me. I have some old Bourbon there that will develop it.” The recruit was soon afterward commissioned as a corporal.— Denrer Tribune.
W will M
PARKER’S QINGE3 TONIC# | Sa lavijont n, Keflcine fiat Never Intoxicates L H Thu Bes! «3’.d fur;:! C?u- ’i Cure Ever Used. B su . n wci-o-urlrt'i... ’■. t. te C. r’.er S ■ Grngrti Touic. It v i!l strengthen brain and tody I and give yutf i ew lite at.d ■ h ICO DOLLAMS I ■ Paid for ?nu.. inguimrions found iii ILi'ger Tonic ■ ■ >i .1.1 ■ a'.t r».v- ■ B|l t::c. >•for .. .u’r.r U lit*- ■. A I . 1»3 Wtn.St. N I. ■ -——i —
HOW WATCHES ARE MADE. In a SotJD Gold Watch, aside fn m tlie necessary thickness for engraving and polishing, a large proportion of metal is needed only to stiffen and hold tlie engraved portions in place, and supply strength. The surplus gold is actually needless. In James Boss Patent Gold Watch Cases this waste Is saved, and solidity and strength increased by a simple process, at one-half the cost. A plate of solid gold is soldered on each side of a plate of hard nickel composition metal, and the three are then passed between polished steel rollers. From this the cases, backs, eenters, liezels, etc., are cut and shaped by dies and formers. The gold is thick enough to admit of all kinds,of chasing, engraving and engine turning, These cases have been worn perfectly smooth by use without removing the gold. This is the only case made under this process; Each ease is accompanied with a valid guarantee signed by the manufacturers warranting it to wear 20 years. 150,000 of these Cases now carried in the United States and Canada. Largest and Oldest Factory. Established 1854. Ask your Jeweler. TOLEDO. CINCINNATI & ST. LOUIS R. R. Time Table—ln ELNect Dec. 11, 1882. Going West, t Western i Going East. I 7 i 5 I Division. | 6 j 8 | ... P. M. A. M. Lv. Ar. P. M P. 24. .... .... '8 30 4 551 Toledo !l0 00| 5 35 ... .... 12 35 ; 4 30 ....Delphos 9 10, 1 30 ... .... 105 457 ....Venedocia. . 847 TOS .... .... 115 508 ... Jonestown., x »3712 52 .... .... 12G 521 Shasta 8 27;12 40 .... .... 132 5 281... Enterprise... 821 12 33' .... .... IP- 5 38: Dull 81312 25 .... .... 147 5 45j....Abanaka.... 80712 18 .... .... 153 55- ... Schumni.... 80212 13 .... .... 205 ’ 6 05’....Wi115hire.... 75012 00 .... .... 215 6 17 t .PleasantMills. 7 4011 49 .... .... 235 6 381.... Decatur .... 72211 30 .... .... 249 6 Peterson...,. 70711 13 .... .... 301 708 .. Currvk iile ... 6 57111 t*o' .... .... 305 7 13|....CraigVine.... 65310 55 .... .... 321 7 3.' .... Bluffton.... 63710 39 .... .... 339 752 . Liberty Centre. 6 2010 20i .... .... 349 B<4 . .Boehmer.... 60810 08 .... .... 353 8(8 ....Buckeye.... 605 10 05' .... .... 4*' 7 8 2:: ...Warren 5529 51 .... .... j 4 32“ ri . ..Van Buren... 5279 24 .... ... 4 40 9 ...Landessville.. 5 21 9 15 .... .... 445 91 •• ....Uantield,... 517 910 .... .... 504 9 : ... .Marten 456, 850 .... .... 522 943 . ..Soseburgh... 440 8 3-8 .... .... 532 951 Herbst 4 ’i)\ 829 .... .... 540 958 ... Swaxey’B.... 4 235 823 .... .... 55710 14 .. Sycamore..... 407 808 .... .... 6071" 22 ...Greentown... 358 8 02' .... .... 635 10 50’ Kokomo 3 • p - AL Lv *A. mJ .... Going i t Going East. 1117J511 6 | 8 | 12 .... P. M. A M. Lv. Ar. P. M A.M .... ;635 10 50... .Kokomo ... J 3 20| 735 ... .... !645 11 OIL. ..Tarkington .. 308 725 .... .... : 652 11 Iff. . ..Middletons... 302 720 .... .... j 6 59 11 13 ...Russiaville., j 2 52! 7 u: .... .... ! 7 11 II 25 Forest : 2 40i 7 031 .... A.M. 7 25 11 39 . Ml-.’tllgantOWn.| 2 24 6 52 P.M. 6 15 7 45 12 W . ...Frankfort,. .1 2 00 6 30 8 00 6 58' ....| M. (...Clark’S Hil! ! ....’ 7 22 8 211 .... I ....'. .Veedersburg i 5 55 9 45 ....I ....’..Ridge Fann I 4 30 10 15 ....1 Metcalf ! 4 00 11 00 ...J ....Oakland 3 15 1130 .... ...J Maples i 2 45 11 4’> ...J ... '...Charleston I 2 30 .... i .... I .... Lv. Ar ? .. T. A. PHILLIPS. T. H. B. BEALE, Gen Manager. Gen. Pass. Aoent. W, S. MATTHIAS, Ass’t. Gen. Pass. Agent.
C. E. ALBERS & SON has open out in JOHN KING'S CARRIAGE SHOP A full and complete line of Family Groceries, Big Stock o Fresh Goods, at TTOM PRICES and everything in the grocery line to select from. All Goods to any part of the City silvered Pre
0-W-PRINCIPAL-LINE evil KESr and line to «. .Wrt. points In I J G?«<gi> r <a- h'.»n.Tv f ;ka.t><-»i. Nebrsoka. Missouri. ssa. New Mexico, Arizona, ' ’'° n ’ tar.a and Texas. _ | C X O 2100 lu'si. ■ ’•.of’up, 1 •? ft-r AH**rt : Lra. Mil. l fip-' “ H- I’aulUntvt rs Nation t’. '. r- pu<«*d as iy cone !.d the Great ic ihe best equipped R.i < d in the v rid 5 ,r Line KANSAS CITY 'N, —, v 1,1 ‘ T! ■ rh Tl. . -viatl.-sX"/ * n ‘ i srou wil * I S-v l 1.: . 'lS, '''XjXZ' ,nB * m; l luxury. In.- Vd T I POTTER. PERCEVAL LOWELL, id i’fcn Pres’i ffen’i Wtnnjer, an. sgi.. Cliicaso. 11l chlcacn. 111. 6RANO RAPIDS & INDIANA RAILWAY. In Eflcct October 15. 1882. CO!.I MBl S TIME. I ~<K)ING XOKI H. I N‘>- j C;n..C. H. K 11 < I >rn ! Kiel, hi. nd It Sft pni 11 10 W Wi!..-ht r < h> 1-’ Hpm 11 ‘JS Kid ■ -il> 4 It «♦ 1 a;,.| 5 * ius 1‘ Veto ' <at.ir 6IS 210 iI 25 ....... Fort W*jm« ar i W ;i '2 2 20 Fort Wayne h ’3 SS I 3 TO ! S Kr’idaUviUe 446 i 4 3Q | 942 M .Vi. ’IW\ii ksb irg 715 641 *2i'pm I K Inmaz-'.i ar 7 f-0 7SO .12 5o Kahuu.z o jv & LSS i7 4G |2 » Vh-4 ’i . ....19.30 3 50 or;v.<i Kaj hk ’.. .ar . •“ 9 7>o 4 25 <.,-.•>■l K.pul- ~|V. ;c«m ft-#) Sl-> l>. M. Cr ving ... 755 i) 3« 6 •*» Howard City 9 l« 12 05pm Fl- lt-1 ids 10 11 ’lot 7 53 ■ 10 50 2 « ‘9 50 Cadillac «r I ’UfTRi 3 15 10 10 Caddie Iv 330 ill*) Tr. -..-rM- City. ... ar 555 ; Kalkaoka 5 27 111 am Maneeh 0 04 1 58 1. m• i 711 I 3 22 r- - -kt”. I ‘ 7 50 i 4 15 Harb-rSprigs j 18 35 >• i v. 77. It “ pni H. 'le-r Springs l. I 6 7 00 B- u. rails.’ ' ' ’7 W |1 52 Maua-l ua j 9 C7 3 10 Kalka-ka 9 44 3 50 T.-hm rx.-City ' 1 iS2S Cadi!ia ar - H 42 I 5 45 Cadillac Iv 4 onv®> r-’GSpro « 10 R< f d Citv : 5 U lVi |7 45 J : ■ K ... ds ..... .. 550 t » 8 19 E ward < it, 647 i 2 46 ;9 17 I). Jt M. Cr- -ing * ' 4 11 10 37 Grand Rapids .. .ar ..... 830 485 1055 Grand Rar id? Iv 7 r.(uni I 1 uOpm Allegan j 500 ,I 10 K . ..vl:7. • • ar 9«1 17 (JO 352 K•; -.11J.-IZ ,) Iv (* | Tis 257 Vi.k-d.uiv 19 35 747 13 98 Stur-l- >0 32 - H .4 40 K- Dibdlvilk* H W 1 C t*s -6 >K F it Wnnv ar 1 fto'?u I ! 7 15 Ft:rt Wavne Iv 120 0 !saw 12 39am ! Decrktnr. ?10 , 7 ('4 125 Fi rtlaud 310 i 8 93 231 Kni-evi’le. .i :: :-7 S :U ■ Wub .Sier : 8 323 Kl I.l: j 5 lO r 55 4 15 Cineiniuti }7 40 ; 110pm-’ 7 t No. 5 leaves Cincinnati and No. 8 leaves Mackinaw City daily, except Saturday. AH other trains daily except Sunday. Woodruff steeping cars - n Nos. 5 and 6 between Cincinnati and Grand Rapid 6 ’, and sleepini' and chair cars on same trains between Grand Rapids and Petoskey; also Woodruff Bievring cars on Nos. 7 and 8 between Grand Rapids and Mackinaw City. A. B. LEET, Gen’l. Pass. Agent Wi pvpie are «!" i•« on the !•= kout for I I 2 i chances t > i:;. ret.*o their earnings, I F* wi . ti-ik! 3i- u ■i? !; II ji v... i> mH impr.-TB their pr.rtugreat chance to n> k ‘ in‘in-y. We want many men, women, la»ys and giris to work 1 -r us right in their own locahties. Any one can do the wurk from the first Mart. The business will F’y more than ten times iheordinary wages. Expensive outfit furnished free. No one who e:V finis to mak ? inomy rapidly. You can devote your whole time to the work, er only your spare moments, t nil iaformath»n and bU tint is needed scat ii*o. Address minion A Portland, Maine.— --6 42 lyr. g— z-k —w—■ • nn-je . nngV;-. F- ini 2 I J a L’ I before y<‘«'’>e, something mighty rS ■ I 111 l|| quer time. ’ >66 a week in yonr I t I—<■ I own town.S’ outfit fr* Nori-k. Everything new. Capital not required. We will furnish yoai everything M»ny an. mating f.>rt»n«. laadies make as much as men, and boys* and girts make gnat pay. Header, if you want bn«inem at which you cao make great pay all the time, write lor particulars to H. Hallett 4 Co., Portland, Maine.
1 3ALSAM.I J A perfect drew Sing.elcgan;!) per■fumed ai'ii harmE e« Remove* K :an*!rtif re*lwre« ■ pfever:--iMklness ~ . a-4 |) I floeeston |COLOGHE.I S 5 W ccate. ■
T TRADE » V MARK K W v«Ftt »• i< BASKET PLUG TOT3ZKCCO Is the best combination of the CHOICEST LEAF, PUREST SWEETENING, DELICIOUS FLAVORING. It is unequalled, and is the AMemcheW A TBIAL WILL CONVINCE YOU That the Old Favorite WIGWAM And the New Favorite Wide awake Are the best SMOKING TOBACCOS of the day.
SPENCE BROS. A CO., Cincinnati.
NIBLICK, CRAWFORD & SONS, Have again made a change of base by adopting the CASH SYSTEM. From and after this date Will sell for Cash. Only. We have the BIGGEST stock and FINEST selectmen ia * the city. We have a fine Line of all kinds of LACE COLLARS. FICHUES AND TIES. SILK HANDKERCHIFS from $i to $2.50 a piece. LADIES’ FVRS, In Setts and also Muffs and capes that we C.an se i separah { FiNEUNE~oFsHAWLS ■ 11l a'l grades from a cheap Cotton to a Broche. GENTS’2SFECK WEAK. We have something new in that line called a Lawn Tenn;«, or Bicycle Tie. Gents’ Suspenders in Silk, something beautiful lor a Christinas Gift. h complete, we are offering a fine line of Table Cloth's and Napkins to match, put up nicely in a box of one sett each. ’ Towels in great variety, from 5c to $1 each. We have a elegant line of ' G EASS-WAREJ In plain and engraved. Majolica-ware in Plates, Tea setts, F: 'it Baskets, Pilchers, Tea and Coffee Cups and Saucers, I Bread Piates, Pickles. ENGLISH ANQ FRENCH CE!’l4 We have mustache Cups and Saucers from 40 cents to «1 each. Full line of Dinner and Tea setts, in plain and decorated. Wash-stand setts from 2to 12 pieces each. In our CARPET DEFARTMEPTT, You can find something nice in the way of Buggs, Malts and Crum Cloths, in prices to suit all. • WOOL BLANKETS- we defy competition, ranging in price from $1.50 to SJ,4 per pair. We are offering great bargains in LADIES CO A I S, I L STERS and DOLMANS to close for the .*as >n —n »w i-, your chance to make a bargain. Please call and see before you make your purchases as we know that we can do jiou some good. Niblick, Crawford & Sons. .. -- "— ||| »" — — - ■■•ii. -• n■ ■ •- —— Look Out and Don't Forget THAT JOHN WELFLEY. is selling Groceries at less money than any other house and is bound not to be UNDERSOLD SUGAR and COFFEE Lower than for twenty years. tOFFEES, SUGARS, TEAS. SPICES, CANDIES, SALT MEATS, FISH, SARDINES. TOBBACCOES, QUEENSWARE, CIGARS. Sugars all grades. Green and Roasted Coffees of the best quality. Tcaas -Good—Cheap—Black and Green—are one of otlr specialties. Sugar Cured Ilatns, Shoulders, Bacon and Dried Beef. Tobaccoes and Cigars in choice brands an I great variety New Assortment of Lamps. Bronze, Gold and Ebony. Tubs, Buckets, Brooms and wooden ware Generally. Cut Glassware, China dinner and tea sets, a full assortment of Queensware, White Fish, Cat Fish, Mackerel, Cod Fish, Holland Herring, and Sardines. Country Produce TAKEN IN EXCHANGE FOR GOODS. Come Everybody. You will find first class groceries fresh and cheap. JOHN WELFLEY. Opposite Court House. August 10, ’B2. No. 19 ts farkes‘B 3 Parker's Tonic Az gratingl'eiiciae that hever | Storer dress-a - -j IntftTiftkffff, U ing, elegantly ”3 *** -■* p.uchu, B perfumed and This celjcioiis comt'tnation cf omc-r ‘ / entirely harm- ( Mandr.->.c .-u iir.gia. _ otne. „ less. Removes &L vegetable : - Lr- ■' ' dandruff, re- H'TJI 4 ' plains. J'G- v.-m. -■ <-u>r •• Mores natural m a cisoruen of the bow c-s, s’oi.«-v- ! color and pre- JET# ‘ nc T‘’ l 1 ‘" V « -.re ’ w sF' led ’ vents baldness B st ' Floreston An” Go t t IRS nnrnnvrfO rt? WJ 100 !)(/lala.V COLOGNE| : o Pau A deltcate & n V-' ■*' ; or f>r a fm.iue to h< o orcure iry . To-Day. v- ' ing <1 tar sire. i-..r.! for. >rcubr «> 5> " 5 Cents. ■:‘T. rC; Wi iam St.. N. Y. -A,©©© TOiTS \ OP Flax StrawWantefl —-FOR >Hian— I WILL PAY THE BEST PRICES When delivered dry an i in od condition at the Decatur FLAX RILL.
