Decatur Democrat, Volume 34, Number 30, Decatur, Adams County, 17 October 1890 — Page 3

mt ivnrawiT. n iiiuix aucxaxdxii sowm 1 know not why in darkest skies The star* gleam out the w fiiteak But I know that from mylow ■ dark eye* The light teem* always brightest. 1 know not why the golden light , Os euneet seem* eo fair, But it touched my eweutheart’g treeaei X bright— And tiJning 1* her hair. ] know not why an angel’* faos To innocence is given, But J know that in her smile I trace The purity of heaven. ] know not how Love found it* home Jn heart* where no lights shone. But I know her love to me hag coms— And I know it'* all my own. I know not why, nor when, nor how All things that are may be; Bnt my heart know* with gladness now That my love loves but me. j TJ* only this I know, and this To me is all of life; And all of this my sweetheart is, My sweetheart is—my Wife. Ckoaoo, 111. BETRAYED; « or— A DARK MARRIAGE MORN. 4 Romance of Loue, Intrigue and Crime. BY MRS. ALICE P. CARRISTON. CHAPTER X.—(Continued). The next morning he arose unrefreshed, ° and feeling that he had already lost too much time, hurried through his break* fast, and started for tbepublishinghouse. He took his place at his desk, and in a mechanical sort of way-endeavored to perform his duties. An hour or two passed. It was nearly ten o’clock. The door of the counting* room opened. Listlessly he looked np, and to his unbounded astonishment, not to say apprehension, saw bis uncle enter. v The visitor came straight toward his desk. Eugene slipped from his stool and cast a hasty glance around. The door of Mr. Norton’s private room was open. < He looked in. The apartment was empty. He motioned his uncle to enter, and followed; him into the room. As he closed the dbor his uncle turned, and seizing him by the lapel of his coat, in an impressive voice said: “Well, young man!” “Well, sir,” gasped Eugene. “What are you doing here?” .* “I am at work, as you saw.” “At work? Um! Sit down there—sit down, I say!” He threw himself into Mr. Norton's revolving chair, while Eugene seated himself a short distance away. “Well, well! ” he after a pause. ' “Well, sir; what is it?” “The deuce! You take things calmly, it seems to me.” “Calmly!” “Yes; you have married since I saw you last, and what’s more, lost your wife-in a very shocking way, too, I ’must say.” “It is true that I have been married, and alas! it is also true that my wife is . dead.” “Very sad, hum! I saw accounts of it all in the papers. It shocked mo very much, I assure you. Perhaps you have noticed how ag.tatcd I am at this moment?” “I had thought you were not as calm as usual, uncle.” “Calm! Forty devils! Far from it, and I remembered that I had done you an injustice!” “Let that pass, if you please, Sir; I had forgotten it?’ “But I have not forgotten it. and I remember the incident with real pain. I could wish to set myself right with you.” “It’s all right as it is, sir. I am far better off hero than I was at the bank; I am, indeed!” “Glad to hear it. And you like the, business?” "Very much, sir.”* “See here, mv boy, to speak plainly, I owe yon nothing. ” “And I have never demanded payment •ven of that, sir,” returned Eugene, with a smile. “Ah, that is true! Bnt you are my nephew, and I have wronged you.” Eugene made a deprecatory gesture. “Um!” went on his uncle. “I am married, to be sure, and I may say that my wife was made to adorn society. A very lovely lady, my boy!" “Indeed she is, sir! A very queen!” “Right, sir. But I have no children, nor am I likely to Eugene looked up quickly. “In a word,” continued his uncle, “I can well afford to do something for jou.” “I am doing well myself, sir.” Mr. Elliston brushed this answer away with one majestic sweep of his hand. “You like this business, you say?" he asked. » “Yes, sir.” “You like Mr. Norton?” “Yes, sir." “Well, I have made inquiries. He is an honest man—a pushing man. This house will soon rival the Harpers—the Appletons—any in the trade. Yod shall have an interest in it, my boy,” and with a grand air, Sherwood Elliston started to hi a, feet. “But,uncle,” protested Eugene, “I cannot take a gift of money from you—and so large a sum as it would require to buy •veu a small interest here!” “Well, if you won’t take it as a gift, you must accept it as a loan—but mind! It must be for a long time and without interest." „ “But, uncle ”■ “Enough! I must do this to quiet my conscience; and because, to tell you the truth, I have a regard for you. ” * “But if anything should happen, and the sum you advanced is lost ” , “In th 4 case, I shall not expect yon to return a dollar of it. I shall'take no receipt from you, and if you never return the loan under any circumstances, you will confer a great favor upon me." “Really, uncle " “Como, come! Accept it as from a friend — from a relative — from your mother’s brother—on anv grounds you please, so you accept. If not, I swear you will wound me seriously." Eugene rose, took his uncle’s hand, and pressing it, withemotion, said briefly: “1 accept, sir. Thanks!" A look of relief came into Mr. Elliston’s face. He took one step forward, then abruptly turning, hurried from the room. . ■, , Eugene lingered, wondering what had become of him. In a few moments he returned, accompanied by Mr. Norton. A long conference followed. Then the three went out together. But on the street they separated, Mr. Elliston and Eugene going to the office of the former s lawyer, whore, soon after, they were joined by Mr. Norton and his attorney. It wus past nodn when Mr. Elliston loft them, and when Eugene again entered the doors of the publishing house, ho did so a partner, owning a one-fourth interest in the business, for which his uncle bad paid $37,500, and the firm name henceforth whs to be John Norton & Co. For one moment, rt the end of the transaction, Euuene s peace of mind was somewhat disturbed. As they were leaving the lawyer’s office, Ms DAola took his hand and said:

‘'Eugene, my dear boy, I ought to tell you, for your conscience’s sake, that Mrs. I Elliston is aware that I intended to render you this little service, and that she : approves of it. She has a great deal of ; love and affection for you, my dear fel- i low; be sure of that." For a moment Eugene was unable to ' speak. At length he faltered out: “But j does she know all. Does she know " “Yes," interrupted his uncle; “she J knows all about it. I informed her that : I did not intend to take any receipt for i whatever sum I might advance on your ■ account, and that no reclamation of it should be made at any time on any account " “You are too good, sir." “Not at all. This, or something like it, is what I ought to have done before. And now good-day.” “Good-day, sir, and many thanks.” "By the way, Eugene, your evenings must be very lonely. Come up to the house to-night.” Under the circumstances. Eugene regarded this invitation as in the nature of a command, and therefore accepted it promptly. All the afternoon the thought that he was to meet his Ancle’s wife so soon again made him nervous. He had a shrewd suspicion that it was wholly owing to her influence that he was now a partner in the house of Norton & Co., and this suspicion tended to make him still more nervous; so when evening came it was with a somewhat lagging step that he approached the stately mansion, and ascended to the broad platform before the mansion doors. He rang the bell, and stepped into the vestibule. The hail porter almost immediately opened the inner door, and showed him into the library. His uncle was there, walking up and down the room with nervous tread. The moment he perceived the young man entering: “ “Ah, it is you!” he cried, darting an eager glance upon him. “By my faith, yonr arrival is fortunate!" "How is that, sir?” “I am called away—have to meet the State Central Committee in less than half an hour. Mrs. Elliston is not well; I don’t know what’s the matter with her.” “I am sorry to hear that she is not well; I ” “I know, I know, and you must see her. ” “But if she is ill " “She is not confined to her bed, you understand, and your presence will do her good. She needs some one to cheer her up. You must go to her at once. You owe her this mark of attention. And —er—Eugene!" “Sir?” “If you discover anything you must tell me.” ' “But what should I discover, sir?” “The deuce! How do I know? But you understand women better than I do, and perhaps you can find out what’s the matter with her. Something’s troubling her, of that I am certain, and I would like to known just what it is." “What makes you think there is anything troubling her?” “ From her actions. Then she is so reserved toward me—so impenetrable.” “I think Mrs. Elliston is naturally cold,” said Eugene, “Yes.” responded his uncle, thoughtfully. "Yes, and in some respects I—but, really now, shouldyou discover anything, 1 rely on your communicating it to me. And stop! when you have seen her do not loave the house, but have the kindness to return to this room. I shall be back in a couple of hours, Sooner if possible. You will oblige me in this?” “Certainly, sir. When you return you will find me here." “For my part I love her like a fool!” “That is only right, sir.” “Hum! what do you think of her?” Eugene started. “As I have already told you, sir,” he at length said, “I think her very beautiful—queenly, in fact, but naturally cold.” “That's it,that’s it; andnowgoto her.’’ “Where shall I find her, sir?” “In her boudoir at the head of the stairs.” Eugene thought he knew the room, and as his uncle left the house he ascended the broad staircase leading to the second floor. Arriving at what he supposed to be the right door, he knocked. Obtaining no answer he entered without hesitation, lifted the curtain which hung in the doorway, and was immediately arrested by a strange spectacle. CHAPTER XI. . the wii.;:s or the snycN. At the other extremity of the room, facing him. was a large mirror, before which stood Cora Elliston. Her back was turned to him. She was dressdd, or rather draped, in a sort of dressing-gown of white cashmere, without sleeves, which left her arms and shoulders bire. Her auburn hair was unbound and floating, and fell in heavy musses almost to her feet. One hand rested lightly on the toilet table, the other held together over her bust the folds of her dressing-gown. She was gazing at herself in the glass and weeping bitterly. ThA tears fell drop by drop on her white, fresh bosom and glittered there* like the drops of dew which one sees shining in the morning on the shoulders of “the marble nymphs in the garden of Pallavicina. Then Eugene quietly dropped the curtains of the entrance and noiselessly retired, taking with him, nevertheless, an eternal souvenir of this stolen visit. He made inquiries and fluidly found the room he was in search of, and where, shortly afterward, he was joined by Mrs. Elliston. To his astonishment her face was not only serene, it was joyous. “Good evening, my dear nephew!” she said gayly, and with a peculiar emphasis on the nephew. “How very kind of you to come’” “Not at all.” murmured Eusene, as he took her proffered hand. “It was a duty I owed you.” “And one I trust you were pleased to discharge. ’’ “You con rest assured of that, my dear aunt.” “I can not doubt it,” she rejoined with a smile, at the same time seating herself on the divan by his side. Her skirts came in contact with his limb. The (touch thrilled him, and he began to experience a strange sensation of tear at the tremendous power he reluctantly confessed to himself this fair siren was acquiring over him. Nevertheless, the sensation caused by the very knowledge of his danger was a delightful one, and the evening passed far too swiftly. It was with real regret, then, that he at last arose to say goodnight. “You will come again soon?” queried Cora, as she, too, arose, and offered him her band. “As soon as you like,” he said, quickly, and then his face flushed a little. “Did you know I was going to give, a grand party?” she asked, abruptly. “I had not heard of it.” “Well, I am. It is for your uncle’s sake—to further nis political projects, and bring certain important personages together. ” “Ah, I see! When is it to be?” “Some days hence, and I wish I might have the benefit of your advice about some arrangements I desire to make.” “I fear my advice will be worth very little to you, but of course it is freely at your service." , “I want to make some alterations in and additions to the garden—clear away here and there,' and add marble statues and the like.” “Ah, indeed!” “Yes; and I propose to light the whole by electricity? “That will be charming." “Will it not? What delightful promenades my guests will be enabled to take

during the intervals between the dancTs!” “1 cannot conceive of anything more delightful.” “Then come and tell ma where the new plants and statues should be placed.” “With pleasure, if you really wish it.” “Os oour-e I do. Come to-morrow—-come to luncheon at two.” “Very well,” and bidding her goodevening, he descended to the library. He had. hardly seated himself when his uncle entered. “Ah, there you are?” he exclaimed, coming briskly forward. “Eh, well?” “Very well, indeed, unclb—much better than I had expected.” “You have seen her. then?” “Yes, certainly." “And what did she say to you?" “Not much; but she was charming.” “Seriously, you did not remark anything?" ; “I remarked only that she was very lovely and very kind." “That as a matter of course. But what I want to know is—in plain words: Do you think she loves me a little?” “Assuredly, after her way as much as she can love, for she has naturally a very cold disposition." “Ah, as to that it doesn’t much matter; all I demand is not to be disagreeable to her." “You are very far from being that, sir.” “You think so? Well, you g>ve me great pleasure. Now you may go, if you please; but come back soon—come ofien. Stay! We are going to give a grand party,’ ball, or something of the kind. It’s necessary, my friends say. I wish you would come." “I should be glad to do so; but you forforget; I am in mourning.” “Ah, true; but you m ght come and keep me company in the snuggery. I never dance, and soon tire of the crowd in the parlors.” “Well, I can see no harm in that.” “Quite the contrary, I should think. You will come, then?” “Yes; and to-morrow I have promised Mrs. Elliston to run into luncheon, and give her some advice about certain changes she desires to make in the garden.” “Ah, do; I shall take it as a favor, as I am obliged to be away, and she always mopes when left alone.” “He is going to be away and she at home alone,” musecl Eugen. “I wonder if that is the reason she was so anxious I should come." And he left the house in a very thoughtful mood. However, at two the next day he was promptly on hand, and a few minutes later was summoned to the dining-room. During luncheon little out of the commonplace was said, one or more servants being always present. But as they rose from the table Cora asked: »■ : "Will you go into the garden with me, now?" He bowed, and she led the way through a side door. & “ As they reached the walk she turned and said: \ “Let us go to the summer house. I want\ in the first place, to get yeur advice about, that.” ’ i “I don’t see it,” he replied, looking about him. “Os course not. It is concealed by the trees and that arbor yonder. ” “Ah, that is it.” And they started down the walk together. “ What are you thinking of?" asked Cora abrubtly, after a moment’s silence. “Nothing. Only watching the coming storm. ” “Are you becoming poetical, my friend?” “There is no necessity for becoming, for I already am infinitely so. ” “I do not think so. Will you stay to dinner?” "Thanks, I can not. I must return to the store.” , “That is unfortunate. There is so much I want you to do for me. ” “I am very sorry; but there are certain matters that 1° must attend to for the firm.” - ’ “Nevertheless, it is unfortunate.” “Cannot Sly—Slyme help you?” “He cannot do everything, you know.” “By the way, I do hot like your Slyme.” “Nor I, either. And do not call him my Slyme, if you please.” "How came my uncle to engage him?" “He was recommended to him at the same time by an old friend as a freethinker, and by another as a very ffeligious man.” “What nonsense!” “Nevertheless,” said Cora, “he is intelligent and witty, and writes a fine hand.” “That last is an advantage,” “Andyou?” 7 “How? What of me?” “Do you also wr.te a good hand?” “I will show you whenever you wish.” “Ah! and will you write to me?" It is difficult to imagine just the tone in which Cora said all this. “I will write you either prose or verse, as you wish,” Eugene answered. “Ah! you know how io compose verses?” “When I am inspired.” “And when are you inspired!” , “Generally in the morning.’’ “It is afternoon now. That is not complimentary to me.” “But you had no desire to inspire me, I think.” “Why not, then? I should be happy and proud to do so. Do you know what I should like to put there?” And she stopped before a beautiful fountain. “I do not know.” “Yoh cannot oven guess? I would like to put an artificial rock there, with a marble nymph resting upon it.” "Why not a natural rock? In your place I should put a natural one.” “That is an idea,” said Cora, and walking on they passed the fountain. “But it really thunders. I admire thunder in a place like this. Do you?” “Isprefer it down town." “Why?” “Because I should not hear it.” "You have no imagination." “I have; but I smother it.” “Very possible. I have suspected you of hiding your merits, and particularly from me. ” “Why should I conceal my merits from you?” ' I myself do so. It is charming.” But why?" . ■ . “For charity—not to dazzle me, and with regard for my peace of mind. You are really too good, I assure you. Here comes the rain.” Large drops of rain commenced to fall on the flowers, the grass and the walks. The day was passing, and the sudden shower bent down the boughs of the trees. “We must go in,” said the lady; “this begins to get serious.” She turned toward the house; but after step or two a bright flash broke forth over her head, the noise of the thunder resounded, and a deluge of rain fell around. Fortunately the summer-bouse was close at hand; there were openings on two sides, but the structure was large and the roof tight Cora entered, and took refuge in the dryest place she could find, and her companion follow’ed her. The storm, in the meantime, increased in violence. The rain fell in torrents, inundating the soil around the frail structure. The lightning flashed incessantly. Every now and then a great branch of the neighboring tree scraped the roof,- detaching pieces, which fell heavily to the ground. “I find this very beautiful, ” said Cora, presently. . . ’ “I also,” said Eugene, raising his eyes to the roof, “but I do not know if we are safe here.” “If you fear, you had better go!” said Cora, quickly. “I fear for you.” “You are too good, I assure you." She took off her hat and commenced brushing it with her glove, to remove the drops of rain which had fallen upon it. After a slight pause, she suddenly raised her uncoved head and cast on Eugene one of those searching looks which prepare a man for an important question. “My friend," she said, “if you were sure that one of these beautiful flashes of

lightning would kill you in ten minutes, what would you do?” “■Why, nata ally,” he replied, “I should make you my adieux.” “How?" He looked her in the face in terror. “Do you know,** he said, “there are times when I am tempted to think son are a devil?” “Truly! Well, there are times when 1 am tempted to think so myself—for instance, at this moment. Do you know what I should wish? I wish I could control the lightning, and in two seconds you would cease to exist. ” “For what reason?” “Because I remember there was a man to whom I offered my love, and who refused it, and this man still lives. And this displeases me a little—a great deal—passionately!” “Are you serious?” he asked gravely. She commenced laughing. “1 hope you did not think so. lam not so wicked. It was a joke, and in bad taste, I admit. But seriously now, Eugene, what is your opinion of me? What kind of a woman am I?” “I fear I cannot answer you." “Ah, well, I am not so very bad; indeed, I am a good woman—one who iovej you well—with a little rancor, but not much, and who wishes you all sorts of prosperity in this world and the next. Aren’t you glad? Do not answer me; it might embarrass you, and it is useless." She left her shelter, and turned her face towards the lowering sky. “The storm is over,” she said. “Let us go in.” She then perceived that the ground outside of the summer-house was transformed into a lake of mud and water. “What shall I do?” she said, looking at her light boots. Then turning to Eugene, added: “Will you get me a boat?" Eugene himself recoiled from placing his foot in the mud and water. “If you will wait a little,” he said, “I shall be able to find you some heavy boots or rubbers, no matter what. ” “It will be much easier,” she said, abruptly, “ for you to carry me to the side door;” and without waiting for the young man’s reply, she commenced tucking up her skirts carefully, and when she had finished, said: “I am ready.” He looked at her with astonishment, and thought for a moment she was jesting; but soon saw she was perfectly serious. i ’ * . “Os what are you afraid?" she asked. “I am not at all afraid,” he answered. “Do you think some one will see ns? They cannot.” “I don’t care if they do.” “Is it that you are not strong enough?” “Great Scott! I should think I was.” He took her in his arms as in a cradle, while she held up her dress with both her hands. He then left the summer-house and moved across the garden with his strange burden. He was obliged to be very careful not to slip on the wet earth, and this absorbed him during the first few steps; but when he found his footing more sure, he felt a natural curiosity to observe the countenance of the lady. Her unconvered head rested a little one yside on the arm with which he held her. fr lips were slightly parted with a halfkea smile that showed hes fine white th. The same expression of ungoviable malice burned in her dark eyes, ich she riveted for some seconds on >se of Eugene with penetration, then eudae- ’v veiled them under the friqge of her dark, lashes. This glance sent a thrill like lightning to his very marrow. “Do you wisih to drive me mad?" he murmured. S “Who knows?” she replied. The same moment sfk° disengaged herself from his arms, and, placifig*yher foot on the ground, ran np the They reached the back drawing-room without exchanging a word. Just as Eugene was about to withdraw Cora turned to him and srid: “Be sure that at heart I am really. ” Notwithstanding this soft assertion Eugene left the house in a decidedly uncomfortable state of mind. Indeed, he carried away the most painful impression of the scenes of that afternoon. (to be continued.; A Forgotten Tomb. A short time since inqniry was made in regard to the place where the father of George Washington was buried. Diligent search here failed for some time to ascertain the location of the grave of Augustine Washington. But the information has finally been secured, says a Washington correspondent of the New York Star. It seems that Augustine Washington, the father of General George Washington, died April 12, 1743, in Stafford County, and his body was brought down and deposited in the vault at Wakefield, near Bridges Creek, in Westmoreland County, where his first wife (Jane Butler) had been buried in November, 1728. The site of this vault and burial ground is correctly located on a chart made from a survey of “Washington’s birthplace” by A. Lindenkohl in September, 1879, copies of which chart can be obtained from the office of the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey in Washington. The spot is occasionally visited by tourists, and was seen by Bishop Meade in 1857, who describes its neglected condition as “disgusting.” The condition has not been improved since. The burial ground occupies a space 50 or 00 feet square. The arch of the vault fell in many years ago, and the excavation is nearly filled with debris. Near by are two gravestones, one 1696, marking tlje grave of two children (John and Mildred) of Lawrence Washington, the grandfather of George Washington.’ The other is over the grave of Jane, the first wife of Augnstine Washington, the father: of the General, with the date Nov. 24, 1728. There are other fragments of gravestones lying around. The whole place is overgrown with vines and burdocks. It is a question as to who has a lagal title to the spbt now. In 1813 Col. George C. Washington sold the Wakefield estate to John Gray, but made a reservation of the old “family burial ground” and 60 feet square at the birthplace. In 1858 Col. George C. Washington’s son, Lewis Washington, granted both spots to the commonwealth on condition that they should be suitably marked and inclosed. The Legislature accepted the grant, but the conditions were /not complied with. In 1833 the United States acquired title to the sixty feet square at the birthf'lace and other land adjoining for the purpose of marking that spot with a monument, but nothing was done about the burial ground. In 1887 Congress made an appropriation for a monument at the birthplace. The work has not yet been executed. Discovered the Truth About Him. Brown—You don’t mean to say you’ve quit trading with Cutaway ? Why, I thought you’d swear by Cutaway. Robinson- —I’ve got through with him. I owed him a little bill, and he sent around last week to say that he was in urgent need of funds, and would consider it a great favor if I would help him out. Brown—And you found it inconvenient? Robinson—No; it was* quite convenient; but, Lord! I thought the irnn wag rich.—Pmcl.

Business Directory. THE DECATUR NATIONAL RANK. Capital. 880.000. Surplus, 57,00*. Organised August 15.1888. Offlcerw-T. T. fiorwln. President; P.WJmith, Vice-President; R. 8. Peterson. Cashier; T. T. DorwlmP. W. Smith, Henry Derkes, J. H. Holbrook, B. J. Terveer, J. D. Hale and B. 8. Peterson, Directors. We are prepared to make Loans on good security, receive Deposits, furnish Domestic and Foreign Exchange, buy and sell Government and Municipal Bonds, and furnish Letters of Credit available in any of the principal cities of Europe. Also Passage Tickets to and from the Old World, including transportation to Decntnr. Adams County Bank Capital. 80,000. Surplus, 075,000. Organised in Iffil. Offlcers—D. Btudabaker. President: Jesse Viblick.Vice-President; W.H. Niblick. Cashier. Do a general banking business. Collections made in all parts of the country. County. Qty and Township Orders bought. Foreign ana Domestic Exchange bought and •old. Interest paid on time deposits. rHHANCE A MKBBYMAN. J. T. TRAXCX A? J. T. MBBBYMAV .dh.’ttorxkOT'ai gat Xjmw, ; DECATUR. INDIANA. Offics Nos. 1,2 and 3. over the Adams Oounty Bank. Collections a specialty. yIKBBK HOUSE, L J. MIESSE, Propristsg. Decatur, Ind. ■— Location Central—Opposite Court Houae. Ths lending hotel in the city. A.«. EOLLOWAT. «fc Bur<eoxx Office over Burns* harness store, -residence at Mr. Elias Tyrrill’s, southwest corner Third and Monroe streets. All calls promply attamded to in city or, country night or day. T Q. NEPTUNE, V • DENTIST. Now located over Holthouse’s shoe store, and I* prepared to do all work pertaining to the dental profession. Gold filling a specialty. By the n*e of Mayo’s Vapor be is enabled to extract teeth without pain. All work warranted. ~ ®?T. May. M. D, 7E > lx7-*lol«*.3x«A> Sxxrgeon Menree. ... Indiana. AD call* promptly attended to day or night. Office at residence. WILLI AM n. MYERS, Specialty—The Treatment of Women. Office at residence. 157 West Wayne street. Ft. Wayne. Indiana, from 10 to 12 a. tn. and 3 to 5 p. m. Telephone 89. 5m3 'Prof. L. H. Zeigler, Veterinary Surgeon. Modus Operand!. Or chotomv, Overotomy. Castrating Kidgiing- Horsesand Spaying Catan(i Dehorning, and treating their diseases. Office near Romberg’s livery Stable, Decatur. Indiana. 33- S. XawJBK'O-MT. Veterinary Surgeon, Blonroe, XncA. • t?ins?essfully treats all diseases of Horses and Cattle.' —^'lil l respond to calls at any time. Prices reasontokl®. Bobo, Decatur. » - - Jwdiown. Paul G. Hooper, i I ’ Attorney at H*a.x7V Deoatwr, - •> Indiana. MRS. M.L HOLLOWAY, M. Dr Having again located in Decatur, one door north Os the M. E. Church, wiU iengage in ths Eractice of Medicine, giving especial attention > Nervous Diseases peculiar to Women and Children. Will attend cases in the country when conveyance is furnished. Office hours 9 to 11 a. m. and 2 to 4:30 p. in., except Thursday and Saturday afternoons. 35 MONEY TO LOAN On Farm Property on Long Time. N*o Coxnxxilaaiioxi. Low Bats of Interest. In any amounts caa be made at any time and stop interest. Call on, or address, A, K. GRUBB, or a, F. MANN, Office: Odd Fellows* Building, Decatur. -A FORT ; and LOUISVILLE : ; ER Thitt Titer Eulroiii, The SHORT LINE Between NORTH and SOUTH. Solid Train* To And From C |WC|WWAT| " I® 1 - l_l Uwt Through Coache* Between > INDIANAPOLIS & FORT WAYNE Sure Oonhectlon* ygfl WrtWL In Union Depots, tit PM Lowest Lin wW'l -ANDmgA A. ■ Unexcelled Service I Vawbu’ • For Rate* and othI \Yi\\ \\ ▼ information call ’ ' Oen’l Pa*». A Ticket • Agt ” Wa y ne > Ind - GEO. W. BRADBURY, General Manager. B. 8 SUTTON, Sup’t. Whitewater B. B TIME CARD.—SOUTH. May 18, 1890. Standard Time Fort Wayne....lv * 6 00 am HO 25 am • 6 40 pn Bluffton ar 658 H2l 741 Montpelier 7 30 11 52 8 14 Hartford 748 12 10 pm 833 Muncie ... 830 12 50 915 Indianapolis...... 10 30 3 50 11 20 s Cincinnati 530 Louisville 7 00 * Daily NORTH. t Ex. Sunday. Louisville.. t 7 30 Cincinnati 7 59 Indianapolis +7 00 am 11 15 3 15 pn Muncie *9 05 115 pm 510 Hartford 9 45 1 57 5 50 Montpelier 10 03 2 15 6 08 Bluffton..l 10 36 2 48 6 38 Fort Wayne. k... 11 35 3 45 7 40 ONE FARE FOB BOUND TRIP SUNDAYS

Notice to Teachers! Notice is heraby given that there, will be a nubile examination of teachers at the office of the coontr superintendent, in Decatur. Ina).n« on the last Saturday of each month. ADDlcantsfhr license must present “the proper trustee’s certificate or other evidence of good moral character, and to be successful must nass a good examination in orthography, readKg7 writing, arithmetic, geography, toglish ginmmar. physiology, history of the United States, science of education, and present on the day of examination, a review or composition upon one ot the following named books: Tale ofTwo Cities. David Copperfield. Ivanhoe. Heart, of Midlothian, Henrr femond. The Spy. The Scarlet Letter. The Sketch Book. Knickerbocker’s New York. The Happy Boy (by Bjorn«on» Poem* of Longfellow, Poems of Brymit, Poems of Whittier. Poems of Lowell. Hawthorne’s ’Marble Fhun,’ and Carlyle’s ’Heroes and Hero Worship. Holmes* ‘Autocrat of th* Breakfast Tabla. NoMaster’s ‘Life of FrankHn/and Charles Beede s ’Put Yourself in Hie Place * Said oompqeition shall contain notices ahan 600 nor mor* than 1.000 words, shall be in the applicant’* handwriting, and shall be accompanied with a declaration that It is the applicant's original work. Reviews win be graded on penmanship, orthography and comnosition. Examinations will begin promptly atß:3oa.m. No license will be granted to apssssSm*“” .sewjt ■««wtlfrSS/*e*tel—m*F-vloC—triea. Write Uhm£ John F. Lachot Borx&e* Xxxd.., Keeps a full Bns es Pure Drugs Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Brushes, Oil*. Toilet and Fancy Articles. Also a complete stock of Choice Family Groceries, AU of which will be sold at lowest living prices Physicians’ Prescriptions carefully compounded. Give him a call. SPECIAL NOTICE. I desire to say to the people of Adam* Count; that if you want an abstract to your land aortgage or deed executed you can get the *ami done with neatness and dispatch by calling <m A. MoW. BOLLMAN, Recorder.

a t. nmiwnr a. a. kichols. a. bobt.chmstm. DECATUR STONE AND LIME CO., Proprietors of the DOLOMIC LIMESTONE QUARRIES And Manufacturers of Doorand Window Sills and Caps, Range Work, Monument Bases, Curbing, Wall Stone and Sno-W White T and dealers in Plaster Paris, Plastering Hair, Portland and Louisville Cement. We guarantee the quality of our Lime equal to any made. Call on us and we will convince you that you can save money by dealing wltn us. Quarry and warehouse, north of Second St. City office. Dorwin’s Photograph Gallery. ' 6m6 , MONEY TALKS. s And so does the prices on every article of goods at Porters Hamess Shop And Second-Hand Store Tell their own Wary. Having removed to the Kover Hall Bujjding, a few steps east of Second Street, I cordially invite all my friends to call and see me when in need of anything in the line of new and second-hand Harness, Stoves, Tinware, Household Goods and a thousand and one articles that are sold • • ■ . I ? . *' .■ ■ CHEAPER /. THAN .*. DIRT! Don’t be humbugged mto buying high priced, goods without first seeing nay immense stock and learning the inducements I have to offer. •6F"Hunt me up and save your $ | $ . ; . ..j e. Porter. Madison Street, West of Stone’s Hardware Store. ' ■ . ■ . • ' ' I - I *76(000 Worth of Superbly Xa&o -:clothino:Due to our large facilities for Manufacturing, enables us to offer the Largest, th< Richest and most Varied Assortment of Spring a»<l Snnmer ©letktaa At prices that defy competition. Every Mill of worth at home and abroad is rep* resented in our stock of cutmtCt Working Suits, from $3.00 upwards. Business Suits, from $7.00 upwards. Dress Suits, from |io.oo upwards Our Children’s and Furnishing Goods Department is full of new, bright Novel* ties and admired by all. s HXXc&T * comtawy. J 16 and x 8 East Berry Street, Fort Wiyne, Indiana. i

Chicago and Atlantic R*j., With its Pullman-built equipment, substantially. constructed roadway, and low rates cC tars insure a safe, epssdv, and economical jonrnsy to aU point* EAST OR WEST. Write to your nearest railway agsa* Cos Hts attractive low rate* via this line. TIME-CARD IN EFFECT JULY M, ISBB. ' . - - ~ . OOMOWST. . ~ 1 3 15 17 1 81 Station*— Ex Pacific Chio’o Wav Thro? Ex. I Ex. F-eit Freit. PM. A.M. Boaton...lv 8 00 8 80 V.M. N*w York 830 BuO AM. PM. Marion 800 11 90 12 5a 300 . AM. Kenton ...856 1210 IS3 490 Jagger *l7 t 5 03 .....J Lima 945 105 919 *45 SpencerTle. 10 14 « 30 Enterprise. I<* « 308 790 J Decatur.. .U 90 996 380 815 Kingsland . 11 <• 9 00 IM. , Huntintn... 12 3* 395 495 is OS 801ivar..... 1 15 - Newton.... 119 4 « 468 Akron 1 49 Rochester. .208 445 538 No. 15 AJC. N. Judson.. 315 550 ....... Rout* 3 47 6 22 Cr. Point .. 4 35 7 15 Hammond. 510 725 800 800 ....... Englewood. 544 755 830 (8 35 Archer Ave. 605 815 850 900 ....... Chicago, .ar 015 825 900 010 OOINB EAST. ~~ 5 10 12 16 32 Station*— Acocsa Atlanc Mail Way Thro* * Hunt Ex. Ex. Frert, Freit. AM. AM. PM PM. Chicago..iv 10 15 750 720 5 35<<’....... Archer Ave. 10 25 8 00 7 30 5 45 Englewood. 10 45 820 750 <OS Hammond.. 11 15 850 820 <4O Cr. Point 9 23 8 50 7 15 Kout* '... 10 05 758 N. Judson. 10 37 *9 57 830 Rochester. . 1 28. 11 44 11 01 Akron 12 os’ 11 Hl Newton,... 903 12 30 11 49 Bolivar 12 36 No. 18 AM AM. ] Huntin tn.. 940 125 12 95 5M ....... Kingsland.. 905 ....... (6 if Decatur.. .. 330 930 119 689 J Enterprise 303 11 60 740 ...•••« Spencer’lie. 856 214 821 ....... Lima 442 4 01 236 8 3i Jagger 4 30 19 40 Kenton .... 525 455 325 10 2a Marion ..ar 605 85* 410 11 *8 IPM AM 5 00 7 00 loop 12 40 tTrains stop only cu MgnaL Train* 8. 12, 16, 3, 5. 15, daily. Trains 17 and 18 dall: except Sunday. Where no time i* shown train* do no* stop. Ask for your ticket* via The Chicago 4k Atlantic Bailway, and your Journey will be one at comfort and pleasure. F. C. DONALD, Gen‘l Pam. Ag*. G. M. BEACH, Gen’l Manager. Chieago.