Decatur Democrat, Volume 27, Number 26, Decatur, Adams County, 28 September 1883 — Page 1

VOLUME XXVII.

(The democrat OFFICIAL PAPER OF THE COUNTY. ROTH & CUMMINS, Editors and Prop’s. t TERMS: Per Year, in advance fl 50 Per Year, if not paid in advance ...* 2 00 (I B. Aixikon, Pren’t. W. H Niblick, Ca«hier. B. Stvbabakrk, Vice Prw't. THE ADAMS COUNTY BANK, DECATUR, INDIANA, This Bank is now open for the transaction of a general banking business. We buy and sell Town, Township and County Orders. 25jy79tf “ PETERSON k HUFFMAN, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, DECATUB, INDIANA. Will practice in Adams and adjoining counties. Especial attention given to collections and titles to real estate. Are No Uries Public and draw deeds and mortgages Real estate bought, sold and rented on reasonable terms. Office, rooms 1 and 2, I. P 0. F. building. 25jy79tf if ’coverdale, Attorney al Law t —)asp(— NOTARY PUBLIC, DECATUR, INDIANA. Office over Welfley’s grocery, opposite the Court House. J .T. FRANCE, Pro,. Att’y. J. 1. MI.I.IIYIIAN, Notary Public. -FRANCE & MERRYMAN,— Attorneys at Laic, DECATUR, - - - INDIANA. OFFICE <—Nos. 1 and 2 over Stone's Hardware Store. Collecting a specialty.—lo H. R. FREEMAN. M.D. J. S. BOYERS. M D. Drs. Freeman & Boyers, DF.CATIR, INDIANA, I'jractitioners of Medicine and Surgery. Calls promptly attended to day or night. Office over Dorwin & Holt house’s Drug Store. Residence on Third street, bet ween Jackson and Monroe streets. W. H. MYERS, tri cl? & Slone Jlason Contract DECATUB, INDIANA. iolicits work of all kinds in his line. Persons contemplating building might make a point by consulting him. Estimates on application, v25n45m3. ’ SEYMOUR WORDEN, .Auctioneer. Decatur - - Ind. Will attend to all calls in this and adjoining counties. A liberal patronage solicited. nSGtf. AU GUST KR EC H TER CIGAR MANUFACTURER. DECATUR, - - INDIANA. A full line of'Fine cut, Plug. Smoking Tobacco, Cigars, Cigarettes and Pipes of all kinds always ou haul at tny store. . G. F. KINTZ, Civil Engineer and Convey ?ncer. Deeds, Mortgages, Contracts, and all legal instruments drawn with neatness and dispatch. Special attention to ditch and grave road petitions. Office ovtr Welfleys Grocery Store, opposite the Court House, Deeatur, Indiana. 87-md I) OUTS AnD SHUES. 5 One Door west of* Niblick, Crawford and Sons. Henry ’W'lxi.nosi, y LJiDIA-KA. One of the best selected stock of Boots, Sh<HA new and Seasonable GoodSj etc.,, including everytning In his line, and prices giikrnnipe.i as» low hh ean be found in this market. Come and see for yourselves, feffi I CUre*’’*! IS A S=S<JiFIO ■£”*’-* FOR all diseases OF THE SKIN, ESPECIALLY SALT RHEUM OR eczema. Scrofula, scald head, tetter, HIVES. EACH, DANDRUFF, BALSER'S ITCH, FILES, SOILS, CARBUNCLES, "-CER3, CLQTCIT3, CHAFi.IS AND SORENESS OF IWAf.JS- AND APULTS, BUTN OR SCALD, l4n. STIN33, PL •.NTj'CISON NC AND POISCfBO WO'JNCS, ,'WMPUES, RO9--RASH, ITCHlit; Os -THE SKIN. .PIIIGWOHM, SUNBURN, Aic f.TR ILU iS/FI'LITIO .ULCERS AKO E?UPTie-|3 fklg ffaviEDY IS A POSITIVE C'-'OZ WITHOUT THE USE OF INTERNAL REMEDIES. b oar w . 10 A Si’SCIFR) CURE FOR catarrh, t ?L'TE <Mf CHRONIC COLD IN THE HEAD, HAY FEVER, "F '-TLES AND SNEEZING ALL CISEAStS OF THE NOSE ARE CURED WTI CUT FAIL BY THIS SOVEREIGN REMEDY IT IS THE ONLY SURE CURE FOR I.AT FEV-.R IND fi.3SE COLD. THE SKIN AND CATARRH CURE DO NOT ' 'YRT OR 511’”, BUT SOOTHE AND HEAL rr O’CE. PUT UPCN A RAW SORE, OR MAUDES FLESH. IT RELIE. PAIN IS THE MOST W JNDERFUL COUGH I’FDIOINE EVER PREPARED. AN 'NF ANT CAN TAKE A WHOLE ECTTLEFUL AND IT WILL NOT DO IT ANY HARM IT IS A SPECIFIC CURE FOG WHOOPING COUGH, AND I OHCHIAL OR VENTER COUGH. IT OOH" V>lN3 ND I'CCAO, TARTAR EMETIC. PRUSSIC ACID. OPIUM, OR ANY DRUG OR CHEMICAL. GENERAL DIRECTIONS IN TEN LANGUAGES *OR SALS CY DRUGPISTS. PAPtLLCN MFG. 00 , CHICAGO For sole by A. R PEAECE <fc CO

The Decatur Democrat. .«* > : j « < > ‘ L * * . r JK . 1 A ,

THE BAGGAGE FIEND. Twas a ferocious bag-gageman, with Altantean back. And biceps upon each arm piled in a formable stack, That plied his dread vocation beside a railroad track. Wildly he tossed the baggage round the platform there, pell-mell, And crushed to naught the frail bandbox . where’er it shapeless fell, Or stove the’"Saratoga” like the flimsiest eggshell. On iron-elads, especially, he fell full ruthlessly, And eke the trunk derisively called “Cottage by the Sea," > And pulled and hauled and rammed and jammed the same, vindictively, Until a yawning breach appeared, or fractures ■ two or three, Or straps were burst, or lids fell off, or some cat- i astrophe Crowned his Satanic zeal, or moved his diaboli- ; cal glee. The passengers sun eyed the wreck with diverse ' discontent, And some vituperated him, and some made loud lament, But wrath or lamentation on him were vainly spent. To him there came a shambling man, sad-eyed and meek and thin. Bearing an humble carpet-bag, and scanty stuff therein. And unto that fierce baggage-man he spake, with ; quivering chin:— "Behold this scanty carpet-bag! I started a ; month ago With a dozen Saratoga trunks, hat-box, and portmanteau, But baggage-men along the route have brought me down so low. "Be careful with this carpet-bag, kind sir," said he to him. The baggage-man received it wi‘h a smile ex- i tremely giim, And softly whispered, "Mother, may I go out to | swim?" Then fiercely jumped upon the bag in wild, sardonic spleen, And into countless fragments flew,—to his profound chagrin,— For that lank bag contained a pint of nitro-gly-cerine. The stranger heaved a gentle sigh, and stroked his quivering chin. And then he winked with one sad eye, and said, with smile serene, "The stuff to check a baggage-man is nitro-gly-cerine.” —Commercial Travellers' Magazine.] Clock-Work. “My! no 1" said Mrs. Poysett, laughing at the very idea: “we ain’t afraid to stay in the house one night ’thout mcnfolks. Be we, Lindy?" “I guess not,” said black-eyed Lindy, cheerily, washing her hands as a preliminary to putting the bread in the pans. “Frank says, when John wrote him to come and stay over a day in Boston, ‘You’ll be afraid, mother, with all Lindy’s presents in the house.’ And he was real put out at first because I wouldn’t have some of the neighbors come in to sleep.” “Well, I don’t blame yon, es you feel’s es you could sleep—on’y two womenfolks," said the caller, sharp-featured Miss Haines, with prominent elbows and emphatically clean calico. “It’ud on'y amount to rnakin’ up a bad for nothin’. ” “Yes,” Mrs. Poysett went on, accompanying the slicing of apples for pies with the regular swing of her rockingchair, while she now and then placed a particularly thin and inviting piece of , the fruit in her mouth, “that’s what I thought.—Ten—’leven—Lindy, when you go into the other room I wish you would turn that clock round. It strikes one too many.” “Yes’m,” sakl brisk Linda; and then, trying to extricate the recipe for composition cake from inevitable dreams ebout her wedding-day, she forgot the clock—and made an incident for this story. “Your presents are handsome, Lindy; there’s no mistake about that," said the visitor, turning the conversation ' skillfully to the quarter towards which the town interest was just then tending. “Yes,” answered Linda, blushing a little. She had grown used to blushing of late. “People have been very kind to me.” “No more’n you deserve,” said Miss Haines, oracularly, and with an empha- ! sis that left no room for denial. “Folks ; say to me, ‘John W illey’s been pretty stiddy to go out west and make a home, i ’n then come back ’n marry the girl he’s : I been with ever since they was chil'en.’ But I say to ’em, ‘No credit to him. No more’n lie orter do. Lindy’s pure gold, and he’s got the sense to see it.’ ” And ' 1 she finished her eulogy on the doorstep, perhaps to avoid having the matter disputed, while Lindy went back to her cooking-table, laughing, and still gratefully rosy over the 'sense that ' everybody in general was far toolgood to her. It was a case of the smooth running of deep waters. She and John Willey had been prosiacally faithful to > each other for years before he asked ■ l her promise to marry him. Eighteen ( months ago he had gone west to set up !in business as a carriage-builder, and ( now, having prospered, was coming east for his wife. Within two days 1 journey of home he had written to ask Frank, Lindy’s brother, to meet him in I' Boston for a day’s sight-seeing and an evening at the theatre. Perhaps you : ' ! would say that the ideal lover should 1 have hastened to his lady on the w ings - of the wind or with all the power otf steam; but Linda thought difi<*®tlv. I “It was just like him—wnsnt it, I mother ?”-she said that very moraing, > after Mi«s Haines had gone, “to think ' Frank would be the better for a change, i I’d rather have him go to Boston for a good time than see John one day sooner. J Ind I’m sure nobody could speak • stronger than that, could they, mother ? ’ “I don’t know what I shall do without vou. Liudv.”snid the mother, ratb.er irrelevantly, putting down the knife to 1 wipe away a furtive tear with her apron, "I'm sure I don’t know. ’ Linda was at her side in an instant, with a tear of her own, and the two . woman kissed, laughed, and went on with their work, as they had done a hundred times within the last fortnight. For Mrs. Povsett had the equable tern- ] neramentthat sometimes accompanies rotundity of form and a double chin, .< and Linda.xbesides being sensible, could i not keep miserable very long at a time. Thus vou preceive that circumstances were rendering it as easy as possible for < them to weather the gahof coming sep- 1 I ar Me°anwhile, everybody in the township was not rotund and possessed of double 1 . ch 'ns, not all the houses were keepers , ] ; c f new and shinning wedaiug-gifts, and, ! strange to sav, not everybody washappy. | < Pete Pardon, who lived down m Tan i Lane, was poor and savagely diFCO ’ I J i .red He made shoes ordinarily, but S winter there was no shoes to be had. f. HU was a fine and practised hand; he i ' mild do all sorts of jobs, from cleaning i -watch to budding a chimney, but no body saw fit have makin ® ? r ii r done. There had been only fbjtf 01 I }; V e nieces of work since fall for xmkf’ ‘ , Pete for none of which could he m s ISsrsreWift I were too shabby for school, and just j i

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY. INDIANA, FRIDAY, SICPTEMBIbR 28, 1883. J .

i then some one tapped him on the argi and tempted him. •’ One mofning a stranger strolled into . town and stopped at Pete’s little shop Ito ask his way. He was traveling to Southfield, so he said. “Where had he been?” “Qh, anywhere,” airily and jauntily; “traveling about the country. Might | take up with work somewhere, if I found any worth doing,” "Hard times.” said Pete, looking moodily at the little red stove. “ What’s I you trade?” “I’ve been a sailor,” said the man, : filling his pipe—a process Pete watched greedily, for his own tobacco-box was I empty. “ T wenty years bqfore the mast. ' I should have been a captain before . this time--but there’s jealousies. So I I got sick of it. I call myself a lands--1 man now.” “You don’t have the look of a sailor,” said Pete, his eyes traveling from the shabby fur cap and the dark face with rather narrow bold black eyes down over the shabby suit of brown. The man gave a slight start and I glanced at him keenly. “You don’t think so? Well, I’ve been on land I some time now. Salt water’s easy to shake off. What might your name be?” “Haydon—Pete Haydon.” “And mine’s Job Whetties. Queer name, ain’t it? Don't believe there’s i another like it in the country. Good day. mate. If I'm round this way again ' I’ll look in on you.” And he did. One day, as Pete was soldering a milk-pail for Mrs. Burge, this time whistling a little, having work to whistle over, the man came in without warning of rap or voice. “Thought yo.u’s twenty-five miles away afore this,” said Pete, plying his iron. “Take a seat.” “Things don’t please me much over that way,” said the fellow, pompously, again beginning to cut his tobacco, perhaps as a cover to his furtive glances. “I may stay round here a Spell. Perhaps I’ll do a bit of work on somebody’s farm.” “Can’t get it,” said Pete briefly, viewing his completed job with approval. “Ain’t no farm-work to be had just now.” • “Well, doing chores, I mean—light work. I'm not .particular how little I do for my boaril,” with a coarse laugh. “Folks do their own work round here?* said Pete; “Some of ’em have’ got money enough to pay, but they are able-bodied, as it happens, and don't want a hired man round in the winter.” “Seems a pity—don't it ?—that things can’t be equally divided, so that you and I could have our share,” said the stranger, puffing industriously at his pipe, but not forgetting to watch the' | tinker. “I should like to help myself |to somebody’s pile; now, shouldn’t you?” Honestly enough, of course, man. You needn’t jump. I mean, suppose the young fellow 7 that owns the big farm over there—Poysett?—should say, ‘Whettles, take half my bankstock. I don’t need it at all;’ do you think I should say‘no’?” Os course the tinker laughed at the fanciful notion. He was a sunny-tem-pered fellow; it hardly needed a very bright thing to provoke his mirth. Where Whettles stayed at night was a mystery. Sometimes Pete suspected he might have slept in a barn, he turned up so tousled in the morning; often he guessed that Toppan, the saloon-keeper, had given him a lodging, from the fumes that lingered about his shabby person. He had money at times, for again and again ho treated Pete to a cheering glass of whisky. Pete was not | used to frequenting the saloon; he did not in the least approve of it; but it happened that about tins time this evil J bird of prey sought his company more persistently than did any more respectable person. And Whettles was a sociable fellow; he could tell more stories in half an hour than any six of i the honest people Pete knew taker together. He was, so Pete concluded, nobody’s enemy but "his own, It would take more time than you are willing to give and a deeper knowledge of mental intricacies than I possess, to detail the process through which Pete was brought to the point of promising io creep into the Poysett farm-house and rifle the old desk that stood between the sitting-room windows. The grocer’s, bill was growing longer, his wife paler, and she worried him by entreaties to let Whettles alone and forsake Toppan’s: the aggregate of such straws is not small. The opportunity came, fitting , the mood as exactly as though the mood had mdde it. Frank Poysett was going to Boston to meet John Willey; tlfb “women folks” would be alone. ’ 4 “You take Poysett’s,” said Whettles; “you know the lay of the land there; aiid the same night I'll try Turner’s, over on the hill. We’ll meet somewhere about One, down there-under the | big elm, and divide. After thilt 11l ! make tracks across lots and take a train for somewhere, nobody’ll think of you. i Tinker Pete whm equally sure of no- ] body’s suspecting him. He had always been -honest—this ho tliought with a pang—and, being a simple-minded sorbof a fellow 7 , he never calculated the effect in other people’s eyes of having been sees with Whettles. , “But s’poso my courage gives out?” he said, uncertainly. ‘.‘l doat knows I can do it, after all. It’s easy enough to get in, but suppose somebody should sec me? It might end in vdiafs worse.” “Man.aVvel,” said Whettles, impatientlv. “Afraid at your time of Lite ? Well, here's what I’ll do. They go to bed earl v; you can have it over by midnight. I’ll’come back that way, and if vou’re there and afraid to stir. I’ll go in' and do it myself- But juind, I don’t expect you're’ going to back out. If I hate to do all the- work I get all the pay.” “Oh; I mean to do it fast enough,” siid Pete, doggedly. “Things can’t be much worse ofl' than they are now.’ “And if I ain't there by t-velveyon’ll know somethin’s happened and I eaii’t_ come; so vou’Jl have to go on your own hook. But be sure you’re at the big tree by one.” Whettles, lilts aianp another skilful tactician, did not tell all his iilans. He had no intention of doipg what might be done for him. It va-s only politic to assure Pete of helping him out should his courage fail, for fear, under too great dread, that he might break away from the plan altogether. Whettles, who bad as little right to this name as to many another article he had possessed at various times, was as truly an arrogant cow ard as a villain. AH ft; ill deeds, and they were numerous, had been done, as far as be could manage it, at the expense of somebody else. If the robbery at Turner's seemed feasible without too much danger, h - could keep to word; if not, there was at hand the escuse of j

i having been watched or prevented, and . Pete coulil be eoaxed or threatened I i into sharing what spoil he had from the ' > Poysetts’., i That night Mrs. Peysett and Linda' had an early tea, and, having done the j in-door work, sat down for one of the j ; i quiet talks that had grown so precious ; i because- they were so soon to cease. 11 The journey to Illinois was so long, and | Linda’s,beginning a new life such a' ; serious matter, that it seelned'’the two i would never h'avo done talking it all . ever. Henry, the nearest neighbor’s | boy, had shut up the barn long ago, i i the milk was strained, and the pails Were I i washed. “I’ve laid out a dozen o’ them coarse ' - crash towels for your dishes, Linda,” I said Mrs. Poysett. “Y'es, I know you’ve ■ got a lot o’ nevi 7 ones; but you can’t have ] too many o’- such things. There ain’t I 1 any such thing as bein’ extravagant 1 . about keepin’ your dishes clean and ■ shiny. Y’our grandmother Poysett used i to say she believed I’d like a clean i towel to every cup, Lindy, how glad I ■ am that you ain’t got to live with a mother-in-law!” A husky sigh of relief was here Mrs. Poysett's tribute to the , j memory of the w oman who had made • I the first ten years of her own married I life a discipline. . “To think John and Frank will be . ' here to-morrow night at seven,” said ■ Linda dreamily, “We’ll have quince for supper, won't we,mother?" “Yes; and I guess we’d better be'abed just as <-arly as we can get there. You be fastenin’ up, and I'll wind the clock.” Mrs. Poysett did that in the dark, tor Linda had taken the lamp into'the kitchen. “Eight! Well, I declare!” said the good lady as the clock struck after she had groped her way up stairs. “And it’s night, too; for Lindy put it round tliis mornin’. Seems to me it took you a good while,” she went on, as Linda came in with the’ lamp. “I don’t b’lieye but what you went through some extra fastenin’-up, now we're alone.” -’ “Not a bit, mother,” said Linda, with a smile cut short by a yawn. “I stopped to put the eat out." “I always tliink of what your father | said,” mused the old lady. “It was as- ; ■ter the Hampstead murder. We never’d i had our doors fastened in the world till ■ thenand as soon as the news of that i come,,everybody was scared to death, and your father put ft button on the buck door. And the first night ho turned it, he laid a-while thiukin’, and then ’ siiVs he, ‘lf there’s only a wbodon but- 1 ton between me and death, I guess I’ll trust in the Lord and not in the button.’ So he went down stairs and turned it tack again. Wlish a lot of hair you have got. Lindy, and how quick you braid it!” When pete crept up to thetlinnse-nt ' ten, the women IrtftT been ♦imfdlysatdebp for two hourji. He tried the kitchen window; it had no fastening, and went up noiselessly. •He stepped in and stood trembling. The clock in the next 1 rocfhi ticked with appalling loudness, i His knees smote together, but it requir- ! ed as much courage now to flee as to rei main. Perhaps for ten minutes—perliap«|Bour«, jilgmgby his own exaggerated reckoning—h‘e stood in fear; and then, as the clock ticked on steadily as if it hail no reference to him, his heartbeats grew fainter, .and his*coariige, crawled back. ’ He crejit toward the sitting-room door on his hands and knees. There stood the old desk, with its high spindle legs, half of it an exaggerated shadow and half thrown into light by 7 a shaft from the moon. Probably the i key was in the lock. He had seen it I there himself a dozen titufes,—had scan > Frank bring in a large roll of bills after : selling his oxen, toss them in there and .[ put down the.coyer without turning the kev. There bad been no robbenesJn Belburn, and so people trusted more in human nature and less in steel and wood. But the sitting-room was so light! He should never dare to go in there;.the very thought of having his shadow thrown on the wall, distorted like those of the tables and chairs, gave him another sickening spaqjn of fear. What if there were only women in the house? Suppose one appeared? where should he hide himself? He was not a thief by training or nature. He would crouch down in a corner and wait for Whettles. He had been there ages, when the clock gave warning; ■ ages longer, and with an alarming preliminary whir it struck twelve. He started up with an after-impulse of gratitude that he had not shrieked. When had the hour before struck ? It seemed incredible that he could have slept, but i t must has-e' been so. or. what was more probable, he had been too absorbed to hear it. It was time for Whejtles. He crept back to the kitchen wm and waited ih the'cold draught of air. Minutes passed, each . seeming ten. He began to grow angry. Did tlie fellow mean to play him false and not come at all ? As anger rose, ■ courage to do the deed ebbed. Ido I not believe conscience asserted itself I very strongly. Life was harder than it ! had been even one day before, and J there was no flour in the- house now. He was still bitterly at odds with life, but the after-effects of the whisky Whettles had given him were nervousness «nd irresolution. The clock gase ■ warning for another hour. False, . friendly old clock, if lie could have ; <seen vour face he woiikl have known it lacked ten minutes of midnight then t instebd, he beiiiA'ed it would strike one. Too Into for Whettles.- Perhaps he was now at the old elm; would ’ hurry there andHring him back to do ' his share of the w;ork., He closed the window behind him ana hufHcd off to the re’udezvops. Theije yas no. one there. At that -moment, the relief of having been prevented from sin overbalanced every other feeling. Sometliing must have happenen to Whettles; perhaps he had.; been caught; perhaps lie would »ay that his accomplice was waiting for him undeatho elm! Hoetarted on a swift run for home, to find his wife watching for him ill the moonlight. She was too'thankful lit finding him sober to worry nt” the lateness of his cdnii’Jg. 'Being a woman of tact, she did not question, but went to sleep, while Pete lay till daibreak'in a cold bath of fcaf, expectingX' rap and summons to jail at every tapping of -bough or snapping of frost-bitten nail. Whettles had lingered about Turner’s, a great house over the lull, in that -the guests—for there was a party that night—would take their leave. But uo; the house wm lighted from chambers to parlor, and sleighs came instead of going aw ay. He walked up and down in the orchard, cursing himself to keep l warm. Later and later, and the sing- i ing arid dancing of shadows on the cur-l tains did not cease. He would hum; ■ over to the'Potsetts’ and see if the catepaw had done his work there. He stole up to the designated window, as Pete ! had done. No one was there. He listI ened, and whistled softly. The clock

struck one. He had tci idea it was sc I late. Pete must be’waiting for him as the elm. And so he too hurried away. But there was only a mammoth lace- ■ work of shadow under.the elm. Where i was Pete ? The master villain, himseli i puzzled, reflected a moment. Perhaps i the fellow - had the money and was himi self hiding it at home. Lucky tliought! , He w ould go to the house and call him i up, in spite of disturbing wife and childI ren. Then if he should refuse to share! ! He took the road, mid, passing Toppan’s! j saloon, noticed a dim light in tliebar- ! i room. It was rather unusual that it (should be there so late, but he hail ' known it to happen before. He had I just about money enough for a dram. I ;He tapped, and then tried the door; ii ! was unfastened, and he went in lightly ! A man in a great-coat ‘rose from his seat !by the stove and swiftly, dexterously pinioned him. Toppan himself, always onwthe winning side, was there ready to i help, and Whettles was arrested for hie last crime. Mrs. Poysett and Linda were afoot early the next morning, putting the house in holiday trim. ■-- “|3eclare if 'taint an hour earlier 'n I thought," said Mrs. Poysett as she came down into the sitting-room, where the little air-tight was already doing its ardent best. “Lindy, you didn’t strike that clock ’round yesterday after all.” “No, mother; I forgot it,” laughed Linda. “I should forget my head, nowadays, if'twasn’t fastened on.” “I’ll tell you what it is,” said the ! mother, beginning to spread the break-fast-table, “I'm just about out o’ patience with that clock, strikin’ the ' hours away afore they get here. It seems malicious, tryiu’ to hurry you off. .Now, perhaps its only half a day’s job or so ; let's send for Tinker Pete and have him come up and fix it.” So the chore-boy was despatched for Pete. Be came like a culprit, uncertain whether the message was feigned to cover suspicion of him or not. But no one could look into Mrs. Poysett’s clear eyes for a moment, or hear Linda's laugh, with even a lingering fear that | either had anything to conceal. When ' they described the clock’s malady, I am j inclined to think Pete was-as near being i ; faint with surprise as ever a man was ! iu his life, and I think he touched the , worn old clock-case reverently, thank- i ing it for keeping his deeds honest, however he had sinned in thought. He stayed for dinner and Mrs. Poysett put ! I up a pail of goodies for the children. Oh his way home he heard the news: Whettles had been arrested and taken away on an early train. Again he . walked in fear and trembling; his hair grew used to standing on its end in those days. He expected an interview with Nemesis concerning his intended crime,’ lint, whether justly or unjustly, staved away. The wedding? It was a very quiet 1 one, and the happy pair went away next ' morning, follow ed by blessings and old shoes. Frank had had such an extra vat gantly good time in Boston that he felt he could only co'iinterbalance it by | plunging into work deeper than ever. So he began cutting the timber in the old wood-lot, and hired Tinker Pete to chop there every day till spring.—Lippincott's Maymine. Camping Out. Provide an abundance of bedding; buffalo robes and comforters, and a plenty of blankets, are usually sufficient, though some may need ticks filled with straw 7 . In starting out for .aamp, do not take too many things. One of the useful lessons of camp life is to show how little one can get along with. The most important part of the outfit is an abundant supply of good nature; a disposition to make the bast i of everything, to overcome difficulties, and be always cheerful. A grumbler is i an Unpleasant companion anywhere, I but in camp he is a nuisance. In warm weather, the camp-fire should ■be at a good distance from the sleeping tents, and precautions taken that no spreading of the fire can occur. It is well to leave nearly all of the crockery at home, and provide a supply of tin plates, tin cups, and cheap knives and forks. Prepare in advance sufficient food to serve for the first two or three days, and then be governed by circum- , stances. If the locality funiisiies fish or game, the .procuring of these will afford sport for the men -and boys, but it is not safe to depend upon these, and there should be in resOtve a ham. a supply of the standard camp-food, salt pork, which, with an abundance of potatoes, hard-tack, dried apples, and cosJee, will keep the table well furnished. Have meals at stated hours, let each j one in his or her way help in preparing them, and—what is still more important—help in clearing away and washing dishes. Keeji the surroundings of the “camp in good order. Have a pit in a convenient place for scraps and slops, and provide other conveniences in a sbelteri-jl place at a proper distance. If guns are taken into camp, let it be ' the business of some one to provide a proper place for them beyond the reach of children, and where -no accident can Dcfnr. . See that the guns arc always there ylieii not ,in use. Hcduco the work to the smallest possible aeiount, so that the greater part qf 'the tlav.may i lie spout iu rest—in “leisure,” in the best meaning of the term. Be sure and i provide an abundance of reading matter. Any hard-worked family will re- , turn from a fortnight’s vacation, or a longer one, of this kind, lietter fitted to •take up the home routine, and perhaps <be more appreciative of home comforts. —American Agriculturist, In a New York Saloon. There is nothing cheap here, and few kings have taken their toddy in better quarters. You walk up. brownstone steps under blazing lights into a room as bright and beautiful as any in New York. If at night, the blaze of light i flazzlts you, and you might think you had strintWefMhto a palace. A knight iiu plated Minor stands before you, I bSmzes and statues- look at von from different parts of the room. The most eleganl paintings hatig stuwuhded by rich velvet upon the wall, and greftt ! minors of heavily-plated glass reflect ■ tliq many-colorad lights of the' cut-glass ’ chandeliers. Everything 'is elegant here. There is no shoddy and no veneering.' The room is paneled with cayved mahogany, and the tables scattered here and there over the Mosaic floor are of the same polished wood. I f I you take a.chair. it is of the bent w ood | of 'Austria, apd if you call for ' a 'drink i you'will be served ih'a cuf-glass goblet, I an'd your change a ill be I’anl d you by i i gentlemanly waiter on h silver plat- F I ter? A silver cuspidore, shilling as ; i bright as ' Vanderbilt'S spoons, stands beside you, and if you ask for a prSzei to eat. with ybur befir it will be brought vou op a piece of porcelAin decorated as beautifully as that on the President’s I table. — Cor, Cleveland Leader.

DORSEYS DISCLOSURES. Representative Belford, of Colorado, Says Dorsey’s Facts Are Not Distorted. Confirmatory Evidence of Their Truthfulness from Several Republican Congressmen—More Interesting E lading. [From the Chicago Dailj’ News, Rep.l The revelations that ex-Senator Dorsey has made through the Sun have formed the principal topic of conversaI tion among politicians through the West. A curious feature of the conversation that groups of politicians indulge in is the corroborative evidence that some one of them is sure to bring I out respecting one or more of the facts. Knowing that so far as their own knowledge goes the statements are accurate, they can not help expressing a belief that the w hole is true. The charges are being widely circulated in Ohio and lowa, and the Republican | voter waits in vain for any trustworthy ; denial of them. On the contrary, the I assertions of men who ought to know, ; that they are true, send them home and clinch them. Representative Belford, of Colorado, has not hesitated to express his o; union that Dorsey’s facts are not distorted, : though J udge Belford regrets that he saw. fit to make them public at this time. Judge Belford is in possession of some facts that came under his own observation that confirm some things that Dorsey has said. “It throws no discredit on Dorsey’s statements,” said Judge Belford, “to attack him. That is the policy of the lawyer, who, being beaten, goes out and swears at the Judge. There are, I fear, too many men who know, in part, at least, that he has told some truths. I know what I am speaking about when I say that Dorsey was one of Garfield’s most j trusted counsellors, and his advice was ' sought by Garfield during the canvass and between the election and inauguration of Garfield. As to the causes that i led to the rupture between Garfield and Conkling, I am quite familiar with them. I went to Mentor in the winter of 188.1 to urge Garfield to appoint exGov. Routt, of Colorado, a member of his Cabinet. It was so well known that Garfield sought Dorsey’s advice in making up his Cabinet that it was thought necessary to win Dor- - sey’s support for Gov. Routt. With a friend, a prominent politician, I went to New Y'ork and saw Dorsey. There letters from Garfield to i Dorsey were shown my friend ■which satisfied him that Dorsey was very near to Garfield. We. were, therefore,delighted when Dorsey agreed to go to Mentor and support Gov. Routt. While I was at Mentor Gen. Garfield requested me on my return to Washington, to see Mr. Conkling, and to learn why he seemed, even then, disaffected. Gen. Garfield wanted me to write fully to him the result of that interview. On my return Senator Teller arranged an interview with Senator Conkling. We had a conversation that lasted more than an hour. When it was [ finished I wrote up what was said, showed the manuscript to Mr. Conkling, and have the note now. I cannot make that public now, but it is a full recital of the causes of difference. This talk satisfied me, and could not fail to satisfy any fair man, that Mr. Conkling had been sinned against, and, further, it is entirely consistent with what Dorsey’s statement in the Sun has to say on these matters. “I have,” continued Judge Belford, “indirect evidence that other portions are true. A very prominent member of Congress, and one who was a very intimate friend of Gen. Garfield, told me that he said to Gen. Garfield that all his real friends thought that he had made a very great blunder in appointing Robgrtson. To this Garfield replied with his usual effusiveness when addressing an intimate: ‘Old fellow, i that’s true, but I am going to get out ; of this trouble into which I was really forced. I will keep Robertson in the Custom House one year, and then will Send him to Europe to some first-class mission. I regret his mutual misunderstanding between Conkling and myself, and I propose to adjust it as soon as possible. There have been mistakes on both sides, and I am anxious to have them corrected.’ “There are politicians who assert this story of the manner in which Garfield was, as he expressed it, forced to ap- ; point Robertson to be true. When the interview between Conkling, Arthur and Garfield was arranged by Wayne MacVeagh for the Sunday night before Robertson’s apjiointment was made, Garfield had no inten- * tion of making any immediate changes m the Custom House at New York. He told Mr. Conkling, at their interview, that he certainly would make no chMge without first consulting the j Senators from New York. On the next ! day some minor appointment went in, ' and Blaine, who luul been confined to his house by an attack, of rheumatism, sent a letter to Garfield, saying that either Robei’tson must be appointed at j once ot he would resign from the Cabinet. He added that he waited an answer. This was a little too much even for Garfield. He took no notice of Blaine’s note. Blaine, seeing that he could not bully Garfield by threatening j to resign, w;ent to the White House that I evening and had a long talk with Garfield. While they wqre at it the tel- ' egram came from Nett York, threatening exposure of the Stanley Matthews bargain unless Robertson’s name was sent in the next day. That had more i effect than Blaine’s threat. Ex-Gov. Van Zandt, of Rhode Island, could sub- ; stantiate this.statement if he cared.” Congressman Warner, of Ohio, says i that there were so many things in Dorsey's story that he knew to be true, that he hioTto accept it all. He says that Jewi ell -himself told him that Dorsey's finance committee had raised an imI m'Bfise sum, cf which he (Jewell.l knew nothing for three months and that ' thgvhad kept Idm iwipnorance because it was proposed to spend the money in a manner Which he would not tolerate. ! While he was busy Raising money from manuf.ictur. rs to make the fight on the tariff, this' cOmrnjttde of New York bankers were raising immense amounts ! and spending them improperly. Jewell condemned to Warner in the severest terms the manner in which the money I was used. > Ex-Congressman Sapp, of lowa, said briefly that there were statements that Dorsey had made that he thought w 7 ere true, und.lie regretted the Jact »ud the ■ publf bffig'of it. I Delegate Pettigrew, of Dakota, said

that he knew that many of the statements Darsey had made were true. He said that the publication w 7 as injuring the party in the extreme West. Corporal Tanner, who was seen in Denver at the Grand Army Reunion, 1 said that he believed that Dorsey, in the main, had told truth. John C. New said that he did not know where the Indiana two dollar bill came from, but he knew “they did a heap of good. ” There are other men, prominent men, who possess information as to the truthfulness of these charges, and possess that-without the obligation of confidence. Some of them may ere long tell what they know. Political Notes. Turn the rascals out. The Republican party must go. No Democrat can afford to indorse monopoly. The Michigan Prohibitionists propose to beat the Republican party in that State if it takes every dollar of their substance to do it. It is said that the real reason of Conkling's unpopularity among mem- ! bers of his own party proceeds from bis unimpeachable honesty. The most ' popular Republicans are those who are I somewhat unscrupulous and who “do dirt” for the success of “the grand old I party.” They stood by Dorsey as long as they dared.— lndianapolis Sentinel I Colfax, a gentleman of Indiana, ' formerly in public life, is a cheerful comforter of his party. Returning from New Y'ork, he expresses his firm belief that the Democrats will not have a majority of more than 25,000 this fall, which, he argues, is conclusive evidence that the Republicans will carry the State next year. — Chicago Herald. The idea that Blaine is “out of politics” and couldn't be dragged into the Presidential arena with a cable and windlass is one that judicious people will hardly adopt without better evidence than his engagement in writing a book and declining to have his name used. Mr. Blaine will lie heard from with a sunstroke or some other dramatic episode when the ball fairly opens. It has been very much the fashion for Republicans, both in and out of Massachusetts, to belittle Butler and speak disparagingly of him. The Massachusetts Republicans, however, have abandoned it. Instead of belittling Butler they come very much nearer overrating him. They are paying him the highest compliment apolitical party can pay an opponent. Instead of seeking a candidate who will represent any particular idea or policy, or one who has been conspicuous for party loyalty j and zeal, they are asking for the one I that can beat Butler. No other qualifies- , tion is worthy of or receives the slight- 1 est consideration. This is a high trib- ■ ute to Ben from the men who have so persistently 7 reviled him.— Detroit Free \ Press. The main issue in the next Presi- I dential election will be whether we shall have a Democratic, honest, economical administration of the Government. Can there be any doubt of the result in a contest waged on such grounds? Let us look at the figures. Gen. Hancock would have been elected if he had received the thirty-five votes of. New York. He obtained only seventeen in the North. The rest of his | 155 came from the South. There is - not the slightest reason for supposing j that any State, North or South, that supported Hancock in 1880, will fail to • vote for the Democratic candidate in I 188-1. If we add the thirty-six votes of New York to the Hancock votes, this; j would determine the struggle in favor of the Democratic nominee. The sid votes of Connecticut and the fifteen ofj Indiana would carry the Democratic majority up to a handsome figure. Some doubtful States may also fall into line, and make the triumph of honesty! over profligacy especially memorable in the history of the country. The Re-j publican party must go!— Few YorK Sun, The Western Cattle Trade. Much interest has properly been, felt in the development of the Western, j cattle trade by the purchase of ranches j and large lots of cattle by capitalists of the Eastern States and Europe. In | connection with this, and partly in con- i sequence of it, there is an important change going on in the mode of management of the cattle, a change that will ultimately be of great benefit. In i many parts o's the West, the day of al- ; lowing the herds of cattle to graze on { Government land is coming to be a , thing of the past. Large tracts are J not only purchased, but are being inj closed with wire fences, and an ap- | I proach is made to the system of grazing i on the large farms of more thickly-set- ! ; tied States. The days of great roundi ups and of the half-civilized “cow-boy” i 1 are numbered in extensive regions iu . I which they were distinctive features, i Naturally the ownership of the laud i and the inclosing it will make efforts to i improve the character of the stock i more effective. It will be more corill mow to provide hay for use in winter, when needed. Improved bulls can be i purchased with more certainty bf get- I ting-a full return; and, in many cases, I a much better stock of cows and heifers | . are bought for these inclosed ranches I 1 than it was considered wise to place on I the open ranges. Large portions of I Kansas, Nebraska and Texas, which I ' were open range a few years ago, are I now mainly inclosed, and the process is I being rapidly continued.— Breeder's j Gaeette. Equal to the Emergency. Miss Middy Morgan, the live-stock reporter of the New York Times, happened to be left in charge of a cottage lin a New Jersey village, where she was visiting. To her appeared two 1 villainous-looking tramps. “Well, have you anything for us, old woman?” asked one of the fellows. “Oh, yes,” was the answer; “just wait and I’ll bring l it down.” Miss Morgan went quickly ' up stairs and in half a minute returned with a seven shooter firmly grasped iu her right hand. “This is what I have for you,” said she. “How do you like jit?” The tramps did not wait to ani swer the question, but got out as fast i as their legs could carry them. I . A Large Head“I guess my son will develop inta a ' first-d i s reporter,” remarked a tuaiNo j the editor of the paper on which the ■ youth had been serving a month on pro- • bation, “ —immense brain that boy’s got, large head—large head I” . “Yes, yes,” said the editor who was j cognizant of the young man’s drinking ! propensities, “large head, always I swelled!”—Car! PretieVs Weekly

NUMBER 26.

PITH AND POINT. Calling the roll—Yelling “Hot bqne.” A thunder storm is a high-toned affair. A Batchelor compares a shirt-but-ton to life, because it too often hangs by a thread. “No.” laid a Philadelphia philanthropist, “I care nothing about the swindle; I only sued the man as an act of charity. There are 65,000 lawyers in the United States, and not work enough for half of them.- Philadelphia Heirs. Our esteemed local contemporary, the Times, had an editorial yesterday morning headed, “What Can AA’e Have to Drink?” When you are drinking with us, brother, you can have just what you call for, if the apothecary has it in stock.— Lowell Citizen. A bridegroom's caution: The Rev. Samuel Earnshaw, of Sheffield, save that he was once marrying a couple when he said to the man: “Say after me, ‘With my body I thee worship.’" The man innocently asked: “Must I kneel down to her”? — London Echo. “Do you always kiss him and say I ‘good-bye.’ every morning, as he leaves i the house?” asked a lady of a wife who I bad just parted from her husband as i the street door. “Yes, every morning; I may never again see him alive, and ii that should be the case, I wish to retain remembrance of a pleasant parting," I the wife replied. “Well.”remarked a woman iu aNew j England village, talking to her summer boarders about a neighbor, “she’s the greatest natural liar I ever saw 7 , and I’ve often thought if she’d only had a first-class education in her youth what an author she’d a-made before us.—Boston Transcript. In a crofrd—“Who’s that man?” “Oh, it is one of the most prominent Irish Americans.” “Who is that other man ?’ “He is a distinguished German-Ameri-can.” “And that one?” “A well-known French-American.” “And that one over there with a bundle under his arm ?” “Oh, he is nobody—nothing but an American-American. Lawyer—“Do you not consider Mr . Biggs, my client, a man of truth and veracity?” Witness hesitated. Law yer—“Well, I put my question in another form. Do you think he has a mind which can not distinguish truth from falsehood?” Witness (eagerly)— “Oh, no, sir. I’m sure he can." Lawyer —“Y’oursure of it—and why are you sureof it?” Witness—“l know he can distinguish between the two. It isn't possible that he would always happen to lie. If he didn’t know the difference he would tell the truth by mistake once jin a while.” Lawyer—“ That’ll do, sir: I you may stand down.” "Now, Johnny you've been in the hot 1 sun again.” “No, I haven’t, either.” ■ “Why, I saw you right in the hot sun." j “No, you didn’t see me in no hot sun." I “Do you think I’d lie?” “I don’t know what you’d call it, but you didn’t see me in the sun.” “Why, Johnny, will ' you presist in contradicting me ? I srw you sitting on the curbstone, right in the broiling hot sun. Toor child! Maybe the sun has affected your njind Now, wasn’t you in the sun?” Maybe it’s done that with your mind, fur how could I git inthe sun? Do you know how far the sun is from here?” Then his mother slipped off one of her slippers, and Johnny slipped out of the side door. — Ken tucky Journ aI. YET ANOTHER. Only a pair of breeches, Only a rawed coat. Only Nome little trinkets, Only a home-made boat. Only a mangled base-ball Placed in a drawer with care, Only beside it some marbles; A pocket-knife, too, was there. Only an empty trundle-bed, Only a young voice gone, Only a mother's bitter tears, Only a heart forlorn. Only a slender figure Laid away in the family lot, Only a little toy pistol That busted when it was shot. —J\ r . 0. WHEfiE THE WASP FAILED. A wasp went madly to his work, And various things did tackle, He stung a boy, and then a dog, And made a rooster cackle. He settled on a drummer's cheek And labored with a will; He prodded there for half an hour. And then he broke his drill. I —Toledo Blade. In ii Persian City. Resht contains over ten thousand in- ' habitants, and is important as being the principal Persian city on the Caspian, i says a correspondent. It is noted for its tobacco, which is very delicate and ; mild, and for a sort of embroidery on I broadcloth called Resht work, which is sometimes seen in America in the shape iof table-covers and §ofa-cushions. The | city is veiy unhealthy, owing to malaria from the low grounds and the stagnant ! pools of water which cover the numer- ; ous rice-fields. The are narrow and winding; the houses low and built for the most part of mud aud suu-dried i brick, and thatched with mud and straw, i Some of the summer places in the j neighborhood are very pleasantly surrounded by rds'e gardens, and have fine avenues of shade trees. In a visit to one of these in company with a Persian of high rank, we were both amused and disgusted at the absolute control he had, not only over his servants, but j over all inferiors as well. As we came to a party of boys bathing in a small | river the humor seized him to make one of Iris servants bathe, aud, not content with this, he made other servants th row j several of their fellows into the water | with their clothes on, and was quite dei lighted at the sorry plight they were in as they came ashore. He had the boys, who came up begging for a “shift’s,” thrown heels over head from a high bank into the water. One little fellow was seriously hurt. The gentleman thought, when his fun was over, tln.i he had settled all scores by tossing a few silver pieces among them. Didn’t Get the Chicken. A California hen, while engaged with her brood of chickens in plow ing up a neighbor's garden, was charged upon by a full-grown rat. The old representative of the “poultry show” immediately established herself as a cordon around her flock and a aited the onslaught. The rodent, somewhat checked by the bold front presented by the “garden destroyer,” crouched for a moment, and then made a dart for one of the chickens. In an instant the old hen .opened her cackle battery and commenced buttle. She flew at her enemy, and striking it with her bill, grabbed it by the liack and threw it in the air. The »odeut came dowh with a thump on the walk, but before it could regain its feet tbe ben the performance, and kept it up until the rat was onlv able to crawl away a few feet and die in disgrace. After contemplating her fallen foe for a few moments the bld hea called her brood wound her and walked off.