Decatur Democrat, Volume 27, Number 20, Decatur, Adams County, 17 August 1883 — Page 4

THI? PFBACHEK’S BOY. BY JAMES WHITCOMB BILEY. I recollect the little tad, back years and years atO—"The Prwicher’e Boy” that every one despised anu hated so! A meek-fiwHid little feller, with white eyes and foxy bair. And a look like he expected serious trouble everywhere; A sort, o’ fixed expression of suspicion in his elance; His 1 are feet always scratched with briars, and ur?en spots on fils pants; Molasses marks along bis sleeves, his cap-rim tw.fied behind — And eo it is “i he Preacher’s Boy" is brought again to mind. My fancy even brings the sly marauder back so pia.n, I see him jump our garden ft nee and slip off down tue lant; And 1 seem to holler at him and git back the uld reply—*Oh. no, your peaches is too green ‘ for such a w. rm as 1!’" For he acumud his father’s phrases—every holy one he i.au—"As cola man/ folks put it. “as that boy of hts was bad!" And agaiiv, fruxn their old buggy-shed, I hear "itie ro<i unspared," That n ver “sp tied the child," of course for which uubjdy cared! If anr neighbor ever found his gate without a I«tCu, Or Tines around the edges of his watermelon p itch. His p-.stu.* bars la t open, or his pump-spout tho Ltd wivw tlay. He’d swf a. ’t was *that infernal preacher’s boy," righv away ■ When stttngs was stretched a<rost the etreec <Mt uigdL, and some one got An Cveahutm’ tumble, and his nose broke, like As not. And laid it on “The Preacher’s Boy"—no powers, low nut high. Could ever quite substantiate that boy's alibi! And did nobody like the boy?—Well, all the pets in town Woulu eat out of his fingers, and canaries would ome down And 1< avw their swinrin’ perches and their fishbone jist tv plc<c Tht lituie Warty knuckles that the dog would leap to l.ck— No lit « snarlin’ snappin’ ftste but what would 1 ave his boue Tofolfe it whiatl d in that tantalizin’ tone That made the soods-bux whittler blasphemously p ut Bl He coulan i t 11, twixt dog and boy, which one was Twas such a little cur as this once when the crowd w as taick Along tne street®, a drunken corner-loafer tried to kicK, When a sudden foot behind him, tripped him up, and, falling so. He ’Tn. rk» d his man, and jerked his gun—drawed u ; and let ’er go! And the c.owu swarmed round the victim, holding close against ids breast The little dog, unharmed, tha. still as they caiessed Grew rigid in their last embrace, as with a smile of joy He recognized the dog was saved. So died “The Preacher’s Boy*” When it appeared before the Squire, that fatal pistol oa 1 Wai hr d a a "dangerous beast," and not the boy at all. And the faits set forth established, it was like beuttin’ then To order out a poesy of the "City Counci’men’ To kill the dog’ But, strange to toil, tiiey searched t e country round. And never hid; nor hair of tuat “Baid’’ dog was ever found! And. somehow, then I sort o’ thought—and halfway think to-day— The spirit oi “The Preacher’a Boy” had whittled hun away. Poppy Red. BT OBOBC.UNA FBATHEBSTONHAfOS. Michael Dormer stood leaning upon the wicket gate, leisurely smoking hit meerschaum p.pe. His burly figure was cleaily outlined in the crimson glow of tne fast-declining day. The deep lines which veined h.s weatherbeaten and toil-worn face, were softened and blended by the mellow light. Purple c.ouds with feathery edges of gray, mingled their colors witli the vapor-like mist that hui g over the river. The drowsy, monotonous Imm of the bi es. and the lowing of the cattle in the distant fields, wao pleasant music to the old farmer’s ears. It was a fair scene to look upon, and Michael Doimer gazed, with a quiet content upon his sunburnt face, at his possessions, which had been gained onl. through the honesty of his own manliness, and the industry of his own horny hands. “You are pale to-night, Uncle Michael,” pretty Poppy said, breaking the silence and throwing away the bunch of withered dandelions, which seemed to have closed their bright yellow eyes at the touch of her warm hand. Michael Dormer passed his hand across his e> es while a faint color stole into his dark face; for his pi ide was his strength, his sturdy nature had never succumbed to the destroying hand of sickness. “We have had a hard day a-finishin’ xip the plantin’ ” he said, knocking the ashes from his pipe, and gazing at the fresidy-turned hillocks of earth. “But it strikes me, Poppy, that you are lookin’ uncommon fine to-night. Bias that nabob St. Ormand been parin’you high-flown compliments, hey?” he asked, but with a certain lack of the old heartiness in his voice, when he mentioned St. Ormand’ name. It was Poppy’s turn to blush, but it was not the faintly-tinted pink of the roso that mantled her cheek, but the deep, rich glow of tiie crimson pop; ies that flaunted their blight heads in Farmer Dormer's garden in the summer. Perhaps she had been well named ■when Michael Dormer had insis! ed upon her being christ. ned Poppy. He often add. d the red as a sort of a pet ■ ■ame, until the two had become almost identical. It was scarcely ever Poppy mow w.thout the red. “I am afraid that St. Ormand is not one of your favorites, Uncle Michael; neither does Stephen love him to detraction; but I do wonder whatman Stephen does like?” She laughed a little impatiently as she spoke and turned away her head. Michael Ormand shrugged his shoulders. “If you like St. Ormand, and he thinks that he can make my wee Poppy napny, Uncle Michael or Stephen will not object.” He said the words with tue same listlessness with which be had before spoken of St. Ormand. Poppy laughed, “St. Ormand lias not yet honoi ed me with an offer of his aristocratic hand and heart. Uncle i Michael, so perhaps you may not have < the opportunity of getting rid of me so soon. Michael Dormer laid his rough hand upon the brown head. “When a man puis mself >ut of his way to go a courtin’ a girl he way St. Ormand has yon, I cail it more than just havin’ a good time,” and he began refilling his | pipe. “But here comes Stephen,” he said; “I must go and look after the lame colt; don’t torture the poor boy, he is worth twenty St. Ormands,” and Michael Dormer opened the wicket gate and walked slowly away, over the crisp green grass towards the fields. It was hard enough for him to think of losing his little Poppy, who for so many years had been the pride and delight of his life. No flower that decked the garden or field could compare to the one he had reared with such tender care. Yes, it was hard for him, but doubly so for his poor boy Stephen. Stephen had sauntered half way down the path, but, seeing Poppy, he p used abruptly and turned back again. Poppy’s quick eye had caught the frown that rested upon Stephen’s brow as he turned. She knew that St. Ormand was his particular aversion. They had had more than one falling out together upon that subject, and she knew that it was the green-eyed monster, jeal nsy, that was rankling in his noble breast. But how often had he been guiliy of extolling the charms of Amanda Brown, though she did have red hair and bleared-looking blue eyes, and always wore green! “Desperate cases require desperate remedies,” so thought Poppy when sue allowed herself to fall in love with St. Onuaud t a rich a? liter's son who had cue.- on a prcepec.mg tour ’-.th a view to ereev

hulls in the place. Her dormant ambition had been awakened suddenly, s and her imaginings of untold wealth beckoned bar on, and she did nbt rei pulse the atientiens Os St. Orman.:, I who spent bis fiiohey so lavishly among the Villagers. 1 “Come back, come back, Stephep !” , she cried che- rily, her oh-aV; 1 itiging t voice causing him ttt pause and turn towards het. “1 began to flatter mv--1 self that you were coming to keep the gate and myself company.” Who could remain deaf to Poppy? The sweet- , ness of her voice mingled with the fire , of her expressive ey.s, ami her half- ■ ; coaxing time ft w<» more then Stephen . Dormer cou.d withstand. He came reluc'antly as if drawn by Some magn, tic 1 power, which, strong as be was, he felt ft not in his nature to resist. He s..id nothing as he learned his tall form against the gate, wh.ch creaked on its hinges, ana threatened every minute to ttjppiU bVer. lie only stood Watching Poppy’s mobile features *ith a hopeless lyiging in h.s eyes. ” " hat- a lovely night it is going to be,” she said, glancing up at tne pale eresemt hanging abote them. Tteey were the first wwds she had spoken to Stephen for three long days, and she dared not look at hftn. “Are you going to Ale'S Joy’s anniversary party?” she asked. “Amanda Brown is going j to «ear her new silk dress for your benefit, the one her Aunt Joe left her when sne died, that is, it is an old one made over, and a beaut.ful apple green,” she ended, a little spitefully-. Stephen whistled softly to himself. • “And what are you going’ to wear for the benefit of St. Ormand?” he questioned, with a certain hardness in his voice. Poppy laughed. “The King was not enamored with the gtugebiisness of ■ the beggar-girl's dress. I will wear ;my summer silk. Y’ou told me once i that it was becom ng, and surely St. Ormand’s eye for the beautiful is not less keen than your own.” “Do yon believe that it was the King's personal charms that won the beggar maid’s affection, or his filthy lucre?” Stephen asked. Poppy looked scornful. “I suppose Kings are always charming; but, Stephefi dear, remember that it is not always women who are mercenary. Amanda Brown will have a clear $50,000 when orphanage stares her in the face, but in the meantime she is obliged to wear a snuffy old aunt's made-over dress, and green, too.” There was a flash in Poppy’s eyes, and a flame in her soft cheeks. "I supp< se you will ride over with St. Ormand, behind his black team,” Stephen said, quite regardless of the I ttle spiteful remarks about Amanda Brown. Poppy a’lowed her eyes for a moment to rove over to the distant fields, where ; Michael Dormer's form could be seen ' moving to and fro among the cattle. “Oh, yes!” she answered at length. “He invited me to take a ride and then | suggested that we might drive over to j the tavern, where the anniversity party is to take place.” Stephen flushed. “I would like to cut hie heart out," he said savagely, in a low tone, at the same time thrusting the blade of his pen-knife into the decaying wood of the picket-fence, “He no doabt thinks it a very pleasant way of spending his time by flirting with a pretty country girl; mark my words, Poppy, he means nothing serious, yon only set-off his fine t< am to advantage.” Poppy laughed, "You are overpowering in you flattery, I must say, Stephen, and you have a great penchant for cutting out people’s heart, tme see, you threatened to perform the same operation upon yonng Deacon Stiles, who invited me to take a ride in that rickety old ark he borrowed from Jake Somers. If you would only (as the saying goes) cut them out with your charms it Would be more sensible.” P"ppy waved her small band, and made him a mocking little courtesy. “Please go,” she said, “I see St. Ori maud coming up the road, and —and—” I but Stephen bad gathered himself up I from his leaning attitude and walked i away. He did not wish to see St. Ormand, i lest he should see the fire of hate burn- ■ iug in his eyes, but he said, before parting, “Look gut when you cross the river. It is swollen even w,th the banks, and the old rickety bridge might give way beneath his satanic team.” A golden wedding was an occasion ! which but few of the inhabitants of Briarwood lived to celebrate, consequently Alec Joy and his estimable spouse were lionized by the enthusiastic neighbors and looked upon as celebrities of no little distinction. They had chosen the tavern as a fitting place for the friends to meet, for Alec Joy’s acquaintance was an extended one, and liis small farm-house was inadequate to accommodate the throng of guests. St. 1 Irmand and Poppy had taken a long ride, and it was late when they arrived ; at the scene of festivity. roppys eyes rovea restlessly about :!:e rooms. Amanda Brown was stand ■ i,ig in a corner 1 oking disconsolately ; around her, the pattern of her green i -i k dress giving her an antiquated appearance. Poppy thought, a little ma I lieiously, but she could not see Uncle Michael, and she wondered vaguely at his absence, for he had told her for a certainty he would be there. She felt a little lonely among all the people; t ey were friends, to be sure, but they were no kin. St. Ormand was agreea- : le, and his jests were greeted with mirth and laughter. As the evening wore on, and bi qdi. no- n c le Micha.. lid not come, Poppy began to grow weary. Tne music sonnaert tar away, and the daace had in a measure lost its allurements. If Uncle Michael would only come, i If she could but see Lis powerful forir moving about the* rooms, then ail would assume its natural aspect, and she cou d laugh with the rest and trip lightly through the dance, she though*, but now, she even watched the old fashioned clock drag the hours away. | She suddenly threw off the depressed feeling and plunged into the gayety, f rcing own by her will the sense of gloominess, wondering, as she glided in and out of the figures of the quadrille, why Stephen had absented himself, and she felt a thrill of happiness for that very absence, and a sort of triumph at Amanda Brown’s disconsolate air. She was standing alone by the door fanning her heated face, when a light touch upon her a’m made her start. “Good evening. Miss Poppy,” Farmer Strong said, thrusting his large re.l face in clcse proximity to her own, “I hope your L'nele Michael is better. I took it he was a-seein’ you trinpin’ through the dance. I to’ld him" this mornin’ that he was not lookin’ fustrate.” “Yes, I thought Uncle Michael looked pale this evening, and I told him so, but he said it was nothing, and promised to be here to-night. I think though he must have changed his mind.” Farmer Strong looked at her curiously. “Men like Michael Dormer don’t often go off with a first stroke, only it ' is a kinder warnin' them not to be a throwiu’ away their strength when they have earned enouga to keep them from want” Poppy’s face had blanched. “Uncle Michael never had a stroke in all his life,” she burst forth impulsively, regarding her companion quite scornfully. “I reaFy don’t know what you mean: he was perfectly well when I left him.” “Oh, excuse, Miss Poppy,” Farmer Strong returned compasawaately. "1

. don't want to skeet yh in the teast, blit as I ettmin’ along lo this here place h I I hint Partoii thorn, who looked kinder ’White like, and asked me if I had seen Stephen Dormer, as his father had been g . took with a stroke while in the fields. D j Stephen could powherb be found, and j th” bld housekeeper run for him, , I Parson Strong.” j ! Poppy heard the words, though she . | stood regarding the speaker pa one 9 ■ stunned, and for fl fViv inoments she j I felt pofretifess tb moVe. Stephen gone : and Uhcl'e Michael all alone, while she 9 . (Poppy) was dancing aud laughing. ■_ She turn,ed abruptly flfid tiluislied j throturh the open door, leaving her . companion standing alone. She must 0 find St. Ormand and ask him to take } her home immediately. Three miles ' would be traversed in a few minutes by , his spirited .tier heart was i ! heetinif in Snort convulsive throbs, and [ she felt that her face was as white as . the glaring walls about her. She , reached the dining-room, where she espied St. Ormand standing in a group of people, but she did Hot show them. She had fitever before seen them in Briarwood. Thfey were fashionably > dressed; and differed entirely Lom the ■ denizens ot the village. “And these are Bt. Ormand’s friends,” Poppy said to herself, surveying them ; with a quick glance. “Would he thank her for taki g him away with so litth ceremony ?” ’ His face was turned partially toward . her, as ?he Stood there in the doorwa-. , with a timid pleading in her eyes, and a longing that he would come to her u i bidden, but he did not; he only kept on ’ t Iking, while several of the group : turned and looked at her. She stood motionless for a moment, as if hewn out of stone. Then h. r quick sensitive nature understood the meaning of his unconsciousness. She felt in an instent Bf agony that she had been cruellv sighted—no such acciden) could possibly have happened; but then she was but a co i itry girl, and his : friends, ah, well!—Poppy walked slowly away, every feeling crushed, every atom bf pride cut to the very quick. It was raining when she reached the road. The pale crescent moon had disappeared, and the opaque darkness was filled with a slow, drizzling rain. Poppy took off her hat and let the cool, wet wind flow upon her face and head, it seemed to quench the fever that was l>”rning in her veins. Bhe did not heed the fresh mud that clung to ber shoes, or the dark veil which hung about her. She only longed to he onee more at home with Uncle Michael. The wind sighed through the dripping trees, whose branches covered her with miniature showers, and a short distance j away she could hear the lapping sound of the swollen river against the banks. Poppy did not take the beaten path that led io the river; but chose the short cut through the small clum of woods at whose terminus lay the wooden bridge v hich she had crossed with St. Ormand such a short time before. It was a dreary walk, but she felt no sense of fear; her anxiety and sorrow spurred her on, nothing could have s‘opped her, as long as her Uncle ' Michael needed her assistance. AS she neared the river, she could ’ see the white moving foam ghostly and chill in the dim light, and the sound of _ the rushing water became more distinct. She reached it at last panting and weary with her rapid walk. Never before had she felt more keenly the loneliness of the spot. Even the aspect of the country seemed cha gcd. The dark clump of woods at her back, stood as if barring her in with no alternative but the river. Poppy walked toward the bridge, which appeared for a ’ moment, wrapped iu a cloud of mist, but as she approached the spot, she found that the rickety structure was gone, only a few black timbers rose above tue surface of the water to mark the spot where it had once stood. Poppy clasped her cold hands together, and gazed despairingly about in the darkness, when standing a few rods away she saw the figure of a man distinctly outlined against the gloom, and there was the glint of steel in his hand as he bent forward towards the water. Pop. y started. She knew that tall form—she would know in among a thousand. She would know it, though the I darkness was far more impenetrable than now. It was Stephen. She was mute for a moment, then sprang to his side with a cry, “Stephen, Stephen, do you mean it?” she gasped, seizing his hand, as she snatched the deadly weapon from him and threw- it upon the seething waters. “Think of your father who is alone, and perhaps dying. Farmer Strong told me at the anniversary that he had had a stroke, and that they could not find you, Stephen.” Stephen stepped back from the river bank. His arms had fallen motionless at his side, and his face was as pale as the trembling girl’s, who stood beside him. “They would have found me here,” he said, in an almost inaudable tone, “but I did not know what had happened.” His voice sounded so changed that Poppy scarcely knew that it was Stephen speaking, “but,” he added gloi m ly, “v.hat are our lives worth without you, Poppy Red—ifyou leave us, life will not be worth the living.” Poppy burst into tears, and threw herself on the damp ground. “I will never leave you or Uncle Michael, Stephen, as long as you will let me stay. I am very wicked, but oh, how I have suffered.” She sobbed passionately, all her pent up grief and mortification finding relief in her tears. Stephen stooped and lifted her in his arms, "We would not ask vou to saeriIce yourself to us, Poppy,” he sa.d, bitterly. "St. Ormand is rich, and ran > make you happier than either father : or I. ” "Don’t insult me by mentioning his name, Stephen,” Poppy said, stamping upon the soft earth. “He has friends enough who can comfort him, he will never think of me.” Stephen took her hand, it was cold ■nd unresisting. “Let us go home,” he said, and the old familiar tone of his voice seemed to have come back. A mile further down the river, where the water was shallow and marshy, hey crossed the fallen oak, which reached from bank to bank. Michael Dormer was reclining in a leep-seated, cane-bottomed chair when the two entered the long, old-fashioned room. His sunburnt face was quite ! pale, and his right leg was bandaged and resting upon the waterpail bench. Stephen went up to him, and laid his iand upon his shoulder, while Poppy, herself, was on her knees in an instant by his side. "They told Poppy that you had a stroke, father,” he said; "but they were wrong, though something has happened.” Michael Dormer laughed “It was that ugly stallion, Stephen. He gave me a hard thump, but 11l sell him tomorrow, by all the saints!” “Why were they so cruel, Uncle Michael?” Poppy asked, vainly trying I to choke down the sobs of happiness. Farmer Strong told me that you had a stroke, and Parson Thorn told him.” Michael Dormer stroked her soft cheek. “It was all that crazy o d woman's fault. She was so skeert wh- n I they brung me in that she ran fur the ! parson the fust thing, thinkin’ I was i took with i stroke, fc-in's Ler grandfather died in one; but it ain’t so bad | after all, and all the plaatm’s done, and i

1 can sit here and watch the farm i grow. ” . ~ “And, Uncle Michael ” Poppy said, iu a tone a» if she were about to makes i confession; "I shall never leave yon or Stephen, but will always be your own Poppy—Red.” she ended, with a little ■ hysterical sob in her voice. Feeding Dogs* A ilvg should be fed twite a day. I purposely italicize to word “twice,” for, altliough the breakfast should be but , A light pile;, it is a , necessity of Iteaithful existence. If it be not given the bowels become confined; the bile s ejected into the stomach; the dog seeks grass, and relieves himself in a natural way of what nature designed as an aperient. A bit of dry dog-biscuit, or a dtbp of milk, or a basin of sheep’shead broth is all my own dogs ever have for breakfast. A dog should have his principal meal—with a run to follow —at 4 p. m. in winter and at 5 in summer. Variety Sntl cli&iigfi ffoni ditj th day ail: lubst essential. Dog-biscuits, dry or steeped, and mixed w ith the liquor that fresh meat or. fish has been boiled in, Witji hbw find then bat-meal porridge, make a good staple of diet, breadcrust, steeped may be substituted once a week. Meat should be given; but unless the dog has abundant exercise, too much does harm. Boiled , greens should be mixed with the food at least twice a week, but they should be wellmashed, else our friend will edge them on one side with his nose and leave them. Paunches are good as a change; so are well-boiled lights and sheep’s-head and broth. The head should be bo led to a jtlly, and no kind of meat should be given raw. hx.bept now aud then a morsel Hf bullock's liver or milt, io act as a laxative. Never give raw lights—they carry down air into the stomach and may produce fatal re- ' suits. Potatoes, riee, and most garden roots are good, and the scraps of the \ table generally. Much Caution should be Used in giving bones. On no account give a dog fish or game or chicken bones. Milk, when it can be afforded, is very good for dogs, aud buttermilk is a most wholesme drink for them. Let everything you give to a dog l>e cleanly and well cooked, and do not entertain the nowexploded notion that anything is good | enough for a dog. Whatever a dog leaves should be thrown to the fowls and not presented to him again for the | animal is na tn ally dainty. If you want a dog to remain healthy great pains must be taken that both | personally and in all his surroundings he is kept elean. His fowl and his water should be pure an 1 fresh; the kennel he lies in should always have : clean bedding and lie periodically scrubbed and disihffleted. Ever the inside of his leather collar shoo'd be kept sweet and clean. He ought to be brushed, if not combed, every morning with an ordinary dandy brush. This not only keeps the coat clean and free from unsightly matting, but encourages the growth of the “feather,” as it is called.— Chambers' Journal. The Decay of Passion and Thoneht* It is a condition of mind and an attitude of the moral powers which there is much in our modern atmosphere that combines to reproduce. I may not undertake here to draw the portrait of the times in which we of today are living. Betas a traveler may note the features of a landscape through which he is passing, though he cannot describe with accuracy its geological f rmation, so may any serious observer detect the atmosphere of the geueration through which he is living. For one I venture to affirm that it is an atmosphere singu'arly discharged of high enthusiasms. With what a strange and puzzled feeling one reads, for instance, I of the English and American ardor of sixty years ago in the struggles of the Greeks for liberty. Nobody flies to Tunis, to Egypt, to the rescue of the J ews in Russia in our own generation. There is almost no great ardor, in fact, about anything any more. It is not “good form” to be ardent or enthusiastic in any interest, however serious or lofty. The first aim of life is to get the glint of fire out of your eye, and the ring of deeper feeling out of your voice. The only place where vehemence and impassioned expression are permissible any longer is in connection with purely dramatic representations, and only there because it is perfectly well understood that nothing serious is meant by it. The first thii g that many young persons are taught in our days is to stifle all earnest exhibitions of feeling, and to affect a languid and critical indifference. And the next is, on all occasions and in all companies, and concerning all subjects, no matter how far above them, to cultivate a mannerism of opinion, which is all, like Mr. Whistler’s pictures, in low tone—without one flash of warmth or genuineness in it all —dry, pert, meager (oh, how unalterably thin and shallow and meager!), but carefully disparaging and utterly faithless.—ll. C. Potter. The Diamond Rattlesnake. Os all the snake varieties of which Be have yet any knowledge the diamond ■ rattlesnake, as it is called, seems to be ihe most deadly. It grows to a length of six or seven feet, and is somewhat thicker than a man’s wrist. It is armed ! ’ with the whitest and sharpest of fangs, nearly an inch in length, with cisterns of liquid poison at their base. A terror : to man and beast, he turns aside from i no one, although he will not go out of his way to attack any unless pressed by huuger. A description of his movements by a traveler who has enconn- ■ tered him states that he moves quickly along, h s gleaming eyes seem to emit a greenish light and to shine with as much brilliancy as the jewels of a finished I coquette. Nothing seems to esca;>e his observation, and on the slightest movement near him he swings into his fighting attitude, raising his upper jaws aud erecting his fangs, which in a state of repose lie closely packed in the soft muscles of his mouth. This snake is \ not so active as the famous copper-head of North America, nor so quick to strike, but one blow is almost always fatal. His fangs are so long that they I penetrate deep into the muscles and i veins of the victim, who has little time I 'or more than a single good-by before closing his eyes forever. In one in- , stance the fangs were found to be seveneighths of an inch in length, and though not thicker than a common sewing needle they -were perforated with a hole through which the greenish yellow liquid could be forced in considerable i quantities, and each of the sacs conI tained about half a teaspoonful of the most terrible and deadly poison.— LonI don Times. The World’s Railways. There are now in the world 253,000 miles of railways, distributed as follows : United States iYho'i I Enroje oy : Asia ; Sout’i America -'• Candaa. 8 50 I 3.2te Grand total Silk handkerchiefs washed in clear water with pure white oastile soap look like new. Do not iron, but snap between the fingers until almost drv, aud then press under a weight. There is s lawyer to ewery 3/100 people of Great Britain, while’in Amwca 1 »he re is a lawyer to every 800 people

’ yS JOB PRINTING t a h t e Dacalur Democrat Office! Fine Work and Low Prices.

rpAtIKER'S HAIil B’.LSAbI. H There--.C’orest.-»p< 1 : most _ txon' i-- iiair' sevei 1> 1‘ d fei-e i u PARKER’S iGINGERTONIC | A Pure Fanil/ Medicine that Never Intoxicates. ; jho>Ju>c;c,li>- I'- • •<•. ■■ I I I cr.t it sav:x<; crriN.i ixtinan sox. I HOW WATCHES ARE MADE. In a Solid Gold Watch, aside from the necessary thickness for engraving and polishing, a large proportion of metal is needed only to stifien and hold the engraved portions in place, and supply strength. The surplus gold is actually needless. In James Boss Patent Gold TFafcA Clises 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, centers, bezels, etc., are cut and shaped bydies 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 u the only ease made tinder this process. Each cate is accompanied with a valid guarantee I siyneii by the mannfacturers 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 Et/ect Dec. 11, 1882. I West. | Western i Going East. I 7 I 6 . Division* I 6 I 8 | ... M. aSi.iLv. Ar. p. m. p. M .... 830 4 56| Toledo 10 00 635 ... .... 12 35 430 ....Delphos 9 10: 1 30 ... .... 105 4 57‘....Venedocia. . 847 105 .... .... 115 5 .. .Jonestown... 83712 52 .... .... 126 5 21! Shasta 8 27112 40 .... .... 132 5 2*j...Enterprise... 82112 33 .... .... 140 5 :'*B. Dull 81312 25 ... .... 147 545 . ...Abauaka..,. 80712 18 .... .... 153 5 50J... Bchumm.... 8U212 13 .... .... 205 6 ... .Willshire.... 750 12 00’ .... .... 215 617 .Pleasant Mills. 7 40dl 49 .... . .... 235 63« ... Decatur.... 72211 30 .. . .... 249 655 ....Peterson.... 70711 13 .... ’ .... 3 «»1 708 .. Curryville... 657 11 «*o; .... .... 305 713 ....Crainville.... 65310 55 .... .... 321 732 ....Bluffton.... 63710 39 .... .... 339 752 .Liberty Centre. 620 io 2O< ... .... 349 8041.. Boehmer.... 808 10 981 ..... .... 353 8 c«8 ....Buckeye.... 605 10 05!.... .... 497 823 .....Warren 552 951 .... .... 432 853 . ..Van Buren... 5 27j 924 .... ... 440 9 001...Landessville.. 5219 15 .... .... 445 9 10'....Hanfield.... 517 910 .... .... 504 9 30;... .Marion. 4 50! 850 .... .... 522 943 L ..Roseburgh... 4 40i 838 .... .... 532 9 511 Herbst.... 429 829 .... .... >5 40 9 58;... Swazey's . . 4 23; 823 .... .... i 5 57 10 14 .. Sycamore. ... ■» ».'7i 8 08i .*/ .... 607 21 . ..Greentown... 3M & 02’ .J. .... I 6 35 10 50 Kokomo 8 30! 7 .... I. ■ P• M- Ar. Lv. ....Ja. M.‘ ... Going West7~i 11i~~Going East. 11 I 7 i 5 I I 6 | 8 j 12 ... P. M. A. M. Lv’ Ar.-P. M. a. M. 777. .... 635 10 s»i . ...Kokomo .... 3 201 735 ..’ .... 64511 00 ...Tarkington .. 308 7 25:.... .... 652 11 <J6 . ..Middletons .. 302 720 .... i .... 65911 13 ...Russiaville.. 2 52- 7 131 .... ; .... 71111 25 Forest 240 7 031 AM. 7 25 11 39 .Michigantown. 2 24 652 P.M. 6 15 7 45 12 00 ... Frankfort.. . 200 6 30 8 00 6 581.... M. ...Clark’s Hill ...J 722 8 211 ...Veedersburg ! .... 5 55 9 45 1.. Ridge Farm 4 30 10 15 ...J Metcalf. 4 of) II 00 ‘....Oakland 3 15 H 3*l ! Maples 2 45 11 45 '...Charleston 2 30 ■ ••• ’ Lv. Ar ... T. A. PHILLIPS. T H. B. BEALE, Gen. Manager. Gen. Pass. Agent. W. S. MATTHIAS, Ass’t Gen. Pass. Agent.

HAIR V.-J «a . t balsam iGinger Tonic 'saa-’j X=i«tei»ll» t lM t m.<hUSm mg, elegantly |g|j I’tCZLCatSS. pepumed and , Thk de>,cirras combination of Ginger Buehu. eiurehr harm. gSW? Mandrai - ;!1 ,„ s . ; j olhc ‘ cf -he bS VL rawMwfl >««««»» “ “.n :, xr.owr. c -n, female Comdandruff, re> plants. Kne-imausm, Nervousne** Wakc f u : n*ss stores natural xad all dis 1..-0, c; - ■ . . e.i stomach, c or pre- W and uniuiry organs, S “ yp u hsv . e los: appetite and are low sointed, ‘ »fc-es nu fll cr suffenr.g from age. or any inrnr.ny, take Ptirker’s __2 Ginger 1 r,.’c. It ’trencthen train and tody Fioreston < IVC > cu ccw 100 DOLLARS S Pli . d n Ginger Tome, c.-pt- 7 A 3 X 311 -v-rists. Lil re savin r buyl VV 1 ' ' “i 3 M- f V r i CrC “' CU - al “ K “ Ct “ 4 ‘ Co -r

GRAND RAPIDS A INDIANA RAILWAY. In EIHmI Octolier IS. 188». tOI VMBtS tlMB; • _ sunvn— 1 Xo.‘i. ‘ I' — Ci., c s '■ * P m Riehuf nd. ..::. lv S ft-Pin II » “10 » Wm.he«t»r < £-* I !J ! K ’»«Km Viekisburg.... , b lv l ‘“...12 5“ . 'Mn.l told* Jv i«am W2O , D.A M.U ’.M? ,|1« IOS as Huwi.nl city s I - -UMpm »» Cadillac ar 12 Ifoplli Sls ;0 W Pvt.ukw > «» Harb-rSprings ' | s 25 Mackinaw. . 1 1 «4X.. 7 W — GOING SOVfH. * Stations- “N'C 2”“No. 4. No. 6. _No. 8. Sti, 11 ,»W 1V -i-nc-'i V- (i :::::::::::: ::::::: ’ > Sun ikiyne Traverse city | ! ; •’ A 4 111 'ii* flfl' ..... ........ ..11. 42 Iv wl oaito! ..lv «w Huwanl City ' aS jll tn ?> A M Ct'os'OfM*.,. 805 ;4 14 10 37 Grand V -.- .. -. 820 4 « W» Grand Rapids i- 5 W I 00pm Kidaniazoo ar 900 I If? JM Stuivte. 1012 «<8 <« Keiidallvffie Il « 1 W §OB Furt Wayne ar I OOpni II 2> 'ls I FortW.yne lv l» 6 ISam 12 snam De.-atut:.............i 2 10 7 M I , < Furtlanil . 810 ;8 IS i 2 -I i ItidgevUle tri "J i“ ®J ! Richmond 500 j 9 SI I 4 •« i Cincinnati 740 110 pm ?3» J........ j No. 5 leaves Cincinnati and No. 8 leaves Mackinaw City daily, except Saturday All other trains d ily except Sunday. Woodruff sleeping ears on Non. 5 and 6 between Cincinnati and Grand Rapids, and sleeping and chair cars on same trains between I Grand Rapids aud Petoskey: also Woodruff sleerinc cars TO No«. 7 and s between Grand Rapids and Mackinaw City. A. B LEET. Gen L Pass. Acent. : —’ Chicago and Atlantic R’y. TIME-TABLE-EASTERN DIV. TAkeif Sttixluy, June 17, 1883. j " i EABTWABD. Paeitic Chicago Stations, i* y. ExjAtlantio Ex. 3. i Ex. 1 Ar. Lv.l 8. ! 11 3 25am 2 55pm .Huntington. 2 50pm 11 pm 3 15 2 39 ..Simpsons...’ 2 59 11 <‘B 3 06 2 22 ... Markle.... 3 07 11 16 2 55 2 19 ....Union.... 3 18 1126 2 48 2 03 ..Kingsland..- 3 25 11 33 • 2 40 155 ....Tocsin,... 3 32 11 39 234 1 49 .. Kirtland .. 338 11 44 2 30 1 45 ....Preble. .. 3 43 11 47 ? 20 1 35 ...Decatur... 3 57 12 02ar 2 08 122 , ..Rivare..., 4 06 12 11 1 57 ! iff . Greenwood. 4 13 12 17 14* 106 . .(ik-nmore.. 422 12 25 1 38 12 57 . Enterprise,. 4 35 12 34 1 23 12 40 .. Yorkville.. 4 49 12 47 108 12 29 Spencerville. 509 !1 08 12 52 12 10 ....Conant... 517 115 12 46 12 o:fpm .... Kemp.... >5 23 1 20 12 41 11 58 Shawnee... 5 29 1 25 12 35 11 52 .lv.. Lima .... 539 I1 36 12 27 11 44 Townsend.. 5 46 1 42 12 20 11 37 Westminster 553 ,1 49 12 14 11 31 ...Harrods... 559 i1 55 12 06am 11 2 J ... Preston... 607 I 2 03 111 59 11 16 ....Scioto.... 613 i 2 09 il .st nll . Oakland... 618 j 2 14 11 4(1 h» &C> jlv.. Kenton.. 640 235 11 2-5 10 43 ...Dudley.... 653 I 2 46 11 19 io 37 .. Hepburn .. 701 [2 52 11 (fl!» ;0 26 .-Cl fton... 7 14 3 03 11 Ou 10 17 .. Espyville.. 725 312 io f> l» 12 ...Hords.... 7 31 3 17 d’d ii ;»m Manou ... 7 <opm 3 2&am Train* run by Columbus time. Trains Nos. u and 3 rnn through solid between Chicago and New York. Trams Nc<. 1. and 3 run daily, all others daily except Sundav. J. CONDIT SMITH, 8. W. SNOW. Vice 1-res. and Gen Mang. Gen. Pass. Agt. CHICAGO. J. C. WIT.LIAMS. General Superintendent. £ j c PLUG* trade J® * V V mark W BASKET PLUG TOT 3 7VCCO Is the best combination of the CHOICEST LEAF, PUREST SWEETENING, DELICIOUS FLAVORING. It is unequalled, and is the i^£G.REAT.W f American chew A TBIAL WILL CONVINCE FOB That the Old Favorite WIGWAM And the New Favorite Wide Awake Are the best SMOKING TOBACCOS of the day. SPENCE BROS. & CO., Cincinnati Kppople ara alwava on the lookout for chances to lncre*»e their earnings* and in time become wealthy; thoee wh y du not improv* their iipporiunities remain iu poverty. We offer a great chance tu make m Hiey. We want many men, women, U»y« and girls to work for its right in their own localities. Any one can do the work from the first start. The business will pay more than ten times tin* ordinary wages. Expensive outfit furnished free. Noone wh" engages fails tu make money rapidly. You can devote your whole time to the work, cr only your spare moments. Full information and all th it is needed sent free. Address Stiksom A Co., Portland, Maine, —-6 <2 lyr. Danztilerw, titles and Motliers. Dr. Vl:u-< hi> s Catholicon Female Remedy. Guaranieed to give satisfaction or money refunded U ill cure Female diseases. All ovarian troubles, iuflamaiion and ulceration, tailing and displacement's or bearing down fee’inc irregularities, hirrenni S 3, change cf life, lueeor.hoei, besides many weakne-ses springing from the above, like li< jaebe, bloating, spinal w< akness, sl<e{ 1-seness, nervous debility, pa pita'im of ibe heart, etc. For sale by , Druggists. Price SI iH'and fl-5C per tet- i tie. Send to te. J. B Marchisi, Utica, N. 1 tor pamphlet, free. For sale by Dor- ' win and B< llbouse.—No. 2 tn-. I‘ositrr Ctire tor files be pe. pie of this country we woald say a e been given the Agency of Dr i Marchisi’s iial.a’, Pile Ointment— warrat- I ed 'oeure or mot.e, e unded-Imernal, | Ex er; k., 1> in**, Bleeding u* bchiug Piles. | I rice ,it)c a box. lui sale by Dot win and Holihonse.—No. 2nib. Rock t antly Cough Curt. ■ W nrranted to euie or money refunded. [ Coughs, ( olds, Hoarseness, Throat anu I lung troubles, (alsogood for children ) j Kock Candy Cough Cure contains the ; beaitog properties of pure white Rock Candy with extracts of Roots and Herbs Only 25 cis. Urge bottles SI.OO cheapest to buy. For sale by Dorwm and Holthouse No. 2m3.

NIBLICK, CRAWFORD & SONS, Save 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 selectisn in the city. We have a fine Line of all kinds of lace collars, fighues and ties. SILK HANDKERCHIFS from JI to $2.50 a piece. LADIES' FURS, In Setts and also Muffs and capes that we can sell separate, ’ Fi^EJJNE~OF~SHAWLSI I n all grades from a cheap Cotton to a Broche. GENTS’ NECK WEAR. We have something new in that line called a Lawn Tennis. or Bicycle Tie. Gents* Suspenders in Silk, something beautiful for a Christmas Gift Is c< mplete. 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 (rLASS-WAR Is I In plain and engraved. Majolica-ware in Plates, Tea setts. Fruit Baskets, Pitchers, Tea and Coffee Cups and Saucers. Bread Plates, Pickles. ENGLISH AND FRENCH CHiNA We have mustache Cups and Saucers from 40 cents to fl each. Full line of Dinner and Tea setts, in plain and decurated. Wash-stand setts from 2to 12 pieces each. In our CA.F.FET DEFARTMESTT, You can find something nice in the way of Buggs, Matts and ' Crum Cloths, in prices to suit all. WOOL BLANKETS. we defy competition, ranging in price from $1.50 to sl4 per pair. We are offering great bargains in LADIES COATS, UL STEPS find DOLMANS to close for the season—now is I your chance to make a oargain. Please call and see before you make your purchases as we know that we can do you some good. Niblick, Crawford & Sons. uook Out and Don’t Forget , o I THAT JOHN WELFLEY. i 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. j COFFEES, SUGARS, TEAS. SPICES, CANDIES, SALT MEATS, FISH, SARDINES, TOBBACCOES, QUEENSWARE, CIGARS. Sugars all grades. Green and Roasted Coffees of the best quality. Teaas Good—Cheap—Black and Green—are one of our specialties. Sugar Cured llama, Shoulders, Bacon and Dried Beef. Tobaccoes and Cigars in choice brands and great variet/ New Assortment of Lamps. Bronze, Gold and Ebony. 11 Tubs, Buckets, Brooms and wooden ware Generally. ( nt Glassware, China dinner and tea sets, a full assortment of Queensware, \\ hite Fish, Cat 1 isb, Mackerel, Cod Fish, Holland Herring, and Sardinci. Country Prodtjce i, TAKEN IN EXCHANGE FOR GOODS. 1 Come Everybody. You will find first class groceries fresh and cheap. JOHN WELFLEY. 1 Opposite Court House. August 10, ’B2. No. 19 ts C. E. ALBERS & SON I has open out in JOHN KING’S CARRIAGE SHOP . A full and complete line of Family Groceries, Big SUo Fresh Goods, at B9TTOM PRICES and everything in the grocery line to select fromAll Goods to any part of d 1 - I City slivered Free

L< La. I vqu d>e. Sdaaethtte mi<biv II I il I behinl toe nf j;

V | ex-. >ob c*e »•« “ T? aSt v&b z. ■■ i • iiole urue tu th* bwdpe* • ,-, oe a« H •Mr. A44na Twi • <*»