Decatur Democrat, Volume 34, Number 31, Decatur, Adams County, 24 October 1890 — Page 3

USE* TO MT LOVE. by ajjthkb k. sunk. Os spring is the gayest of seasons, , And che present the best of all times, Sq I send thee, my love, as heart-off'rings, These few unpoetical rhymes I •h, no, I’ll not “s»ir to the stars, love* For a lay that a ould melt thy de» r heart; ; But simply I’ll sing how I love thee, i C And bow dear to me ever thou art 1 “As the bee loves the sweets of the blossom*— The blossom the light of the sun— Bo love I "thy smiles like the morning," And the blush on thy cheeks, darling one, Wherever thou goest, my darling— To lands of the Orient sun. Or Occident—gladly I’ll follow If only ihou biddest, sweet one, Bbmhxr, N. Y. •'• - ■ _ DOLLIE. BT KIT, COURTLAND. I cannot tell you. all my pain, For sorrow long has soughtme; ? Mor can 1 u 11 you all-the joy Your welcome letter brought ma. For I had heard the wretched tale That you loved. English Pollle. You say it’s false! Dear Jim. come back— And that's all. Ti uiy, Dollie. BETRAYED; OR A DARK MARRIAGE x MORN. . A Romance of Loue, Intrigue and 9 Crime. BY MRS. ALICE P. CARRISTON. s CHAPTER XII. DISHONORED. The President of the Atlantic National Bank, in which Eugene Cleveland had been assistant bookkeeper, and in which Ray Fielding was still employed, was Sidney Leland. Esquire, a near neighbor of the Hon. Hhervyood Elliston, and a very wealthy and important personage, indeed. He had married young, and had two grown-up children- a son and a daughter. The son, Warren Leland, was not far from twenty-eight years of age. The daughter was some years younger. ’ On leaving his uncle's house that eventful Eugene walked slowly to- ‘ ward the next corner, lingering for a stage to oveitake him. As he arrived opposite the Leland mansion the door opened and a young man issued forth. He was not only strikingly handsome but very styl sli-looking, and had that indescribable air of the elite which, without words, proclaimed to all the worl 1 how exceedingly well satisfied he was with himself and his position in life. ' An unaccountable feeling of aversion seized -Eugene, and he’ Experienced a sensation such as one is saiA tofeelyhen v an enemy walks upon his grave. “Wairen L.iland,” be muttered, as he passed on. "Wonder what he’s up to now? Some deviltry, I’ll be bound. Leland, lifter a nod of ’recognition, walked slowly down the street. Presently a cab approached. He signal d the driver, and, as it drew up to the sidewalk, said: “Grand Central Depot,” and sprang inside On reaching the depot, he bought a ticket for Bedford Park, and a little later - ' lauded at that station. ' ■ , Sa made his way to one of the'most attractive s reefs of the village on foot, and presently stopped bsfote a gate upon which a gentleman, a little older thon himself, was leaning. This man, Hobart Brownell, had been his classmate and chum at Yale. He loved Leland, and trusted him. He had been poor, but now was a successful civil engineer, and likely, in the near future, to be very rich. Has family consisted of his wife, a very beaut ful la ty some years younger than himself, and her mother. Leland, since leaving college, had lost sight of Brownell, and had only recently met him again and become acquinted with his wife. But since he had first seen her, his visits to Bedford Park had been quite frequent, and had resulted in seriously ' disturbing Amy Brownell’s peace of mind. At first she had only been dazzled by the elegant Warren Leland; but soon, without herself really knowing it, this man had taken possession of her very soul. He, seeing clearly the situation, was a Httlefiisquieted at the course things were taking, and made some slight effort to divert it. But men, who in fencing, wish to spare their adversary, often find habit too strong for them, and lunge home in spite of themselves. Besides, he began to be rCally interested in Amy Brownell—in her unsophisticated ways, at once artful and simple, provoking and timid, suggestive and reticent—in short, charming. And so it was he was now standing at the gate facing her husband. “My friend,” said the latter, “as you are here you can do me a great favor. A telegram calls me suddenly to Chicago. I must go on the instant. The ladies are feeling, quite blue; pray stay and dine with them! I can’t tell what the deuce ails my wife. She is weeping half the time. My mother-in-law has a .headache. Your presence will cheer them. So stay, I beg of you.” Leland refused, hesitated, made objections, and, of course, consented. He went in, and his. friend presented him to the ladies, whom the presence of the unexpected guest seemed to cheer a little. Brownell started for the depot, after receive g from his wife an embrace more fervent than usual. The dinner was really cheerful. In.the atmosphere was that subtle essence of cojning danger of which both Leland and Amy felt the exhilara ing influence. Their excitation, as yet innocent, eibployed itself in those lively sullies—those brilliant combats at the barriers—that ever precede the more serious conflict About 9 o’clock the headache of Amy’s mother became more violent. She declared she conld endure it no longer, and must retire to her chamber. Leland wished to withdraw, but the elder lady insisted he should wait until it was time for the next train. “Jet my daughter amuse you with some music until then,” she added. Left alone with her guest, the younger lady seemed embarrassed. "What shall J play for you?” she asked, in a constrained voice, taking her seat at the iano. "Oh, anything. Play a waltz,” answered Leland, absently. The waltz, finished, an awkward silence ensued. To break it she arose hesitatingly, then clasping her hands together, exclaimed: "It seems to me there is a storm coming. Do yon not think so?” She approached the widow, opened it, and stepped out on the veranda. In a second Leland was by her side. The night was beautifully clear. Before them stretched the somber shadow of the trees, while nearer trembling rays of moon ight s ept upon the lawn. 3 heir trembling hands met and for a momen' did not separate. "Amy!” whispered the youn<z man in a low, broken voice. She shudder-d, repulsed the arm I e pissed round her, and Listily re-entered the room. "Leave me, I pray yon!” she cried, with an impenous gesture of her band, •a sunk u> on the sofa and buried her forw m her hands.

Os ecrarse Leland did not obey. He eeated himself by her. In a little while Amy Brownell awoke from her trance. How bitter was that awakening! She measured at a first glance the depth of the awful abyss-into which she Lad suddenly plunged. Her husband. her mother, all whom she loved, whi led round Ike spectr rs in the mad whirlpool ot herbrain. Sensible of the anguish of an irreparable wrong, she rose, p -ssed her hand vacantly ncross her brow, and muttering: “Oh, Gcd! Oh, God!” peered vainly into the das for light, hope, reiuge. There was nene. Her p< or soul cast itself utterly on that of her lover. She turned her swimming eyes on him, and said: “How you must despise me!” Leland half kneeling on the carpet near her kissed her hand indifferently and half raised his shoulders in token of den al. - “Is it not so?” she repeated. “Answer me, W«rren.” His face wore a strange, cruel smile. “Do not insist on an answer, I pray you,” he said. * “Then I am right? You do despise me?” Leiand turned himself abruptly full toward her, looked straight in her face, and said, in a cold, hard voice: “I do.” To this frightful speech the poor woman'Vreplied by a wild cry that seemed to rend her while her eyes dilated as if under the influence of strong poison. ’ Leland strode across the room and through an open doorway, slamming the door behind him, and so disappeared. Amy, who had listened, motionless and pale as marble, remained in the same lifeless attitude, her eyes fixed, her hands clenched, yeaming from the depths of her heart that death would summon her. Suddenly a singular noise, seeming to come from the next room, struck her ear. It was only a convulsive sob, or violent and smothered laughter. The wildest and most terrible ideas crowded to the mind of .the unhappy .'Woman; the foremost of them, that her husband had secretly returned, that he knew all—that his brain had given way, and the laughter was the gibberish of his madness. Feeling her own brain begin to reel, she sprang from the sofa, and rushing to the door threw it open. The next apartment was the diningroom, dimly 11. hted by a hanging lamp. There she .s iw Leland, crouch ng upon the floor, sobbing bitterly, and beating his forehead against a chair which he clutched convuftivelv. Her tongue refused its office; she could find no word, but seating herself near him, felt the beating of his heart and wept silently. He dragged himself nearer, seized the hem of her dress and covered it with kisses; his breast heaved tumultuously, his lips trembled, and he gasped the almost inarticulate words: “Pardon! Oh, pardon me!” This was all. Then he rose suddenly and rushed from the house. He hurried to New York. Bitter weariness, disgust of life and disgust for himself, were no new sensations to this young man; but he had never experienced them in such poignant intensity as at this cursed hour, when flying from the dishonored hearth of the friend of his youth. He knew he had trampled all honor under foot. Like Macbeth, he had not only murdered one asleep, but had murdered sleep itself. His reflections became insupportable. He thought successively of joining Stanley in Africa, of enlisting to fight Indians, and ot getting drunk ere he reached the Hollman House. Chance favored the last design, for as he alighted in front of the hotel he found himself face to face with=a pale young man who smiled as he extended his hand. Leland recognized an old friend. “The deuce! You here, Charley? I thought you xii EurdpSv” “I only arrived th s morning.” “Quite well, I hope?” “Yes. and anxio s for one of, our old ti’mqs. How are all our fast friends?” “About as usual, I think. And if you are really anxious for a time, so am I. The truth is, I am a bear, a savage, a ghost! Assist me to return to life. Let ns go and sup with some of these sprightly people whose virtue and temperate habits are extraordinary.” “Agreed, with all my heart.” Half an hour later Warren Leland, Charley Raymond, and a half dozen guests of both sexes took possession of an apartment, the closed doors of which we must respect. Next morning, at gray dawn, the party ■was about to disperse, and at the moment a rag-picker, with a gray beard, was wandering up and down before the hotel, raking with his hook in the barrels and piles that awaited the street scavenger. In closing hie purse with an unsteady hand, Leland let fall a shining sold piece, which rolled into the mud at the edge of the sidewalk. The rag-picker looked up with a timid smile. “Ah!” he exclaimed; “what falls into the gutter should belong to the gleaner." “Eick it up with your teeth, then,” answered Leland, smiling, “and it is yours.” The man hesitated, flushed under his sunburnt cheeks, and threw a look of mortal hate upon Leland and the laughing crowd round him. Then he knelt down, buried his chest in the mire, and sprang up the next moment with the coin clenched tightly between his sharp, white teeth. The crowd applauded. The rag-picker smiled a dark smile, and turned away. “Hold on, my friend!” cried Leland, touching his arm; “would you like to earn ten dollars more? If so, strike me in the face; that will give you pleasure and dome good.” The man turned, looked him steadily in the eye, drew back a little, and raised his fist to strike, and then, letting it fall, exclaimed: “No! Keep your money, and I'll keep my wrath. We shall meet again.” And he walked away. CHAPTER XIII. AT-THE OPERA—THE FATAL KISS. On reaching the counting-room at the publishing house, Eugene found himself in no mood to work. <4 His mind was eternally dwelling upon Cor i Elliston. "Who is this woman and what does she want of me? Is it love or vengeance which inspires her with this fiendish coquetry?” These were the questions he asked himself. But whatever it was, Eugene was not such a novice as not to perceive clearly the yawning abyss under the broken ice. He resolved sincerely to reclose it a?ain between them forever. The best way to succeeain this, avowedly, was to cease all intercourse with Clara. But how could such conduct be explained to his uncle without awaking his suspicion and lower ng his wife in his esteem? So this was impossible. He armed himself with all his courage, and resigned himself to endure with resolute soul all the trials which the love, real or pretended, of the siren reserved for him. ' Some little time before this his name had been proposed in a body of a certain powerful secret organization which had for one of its prominent objects the maintenance among its members of all the fixed points of honor in theix strictest form. Indeed, the members bound themselves to observe, in their reciprocal relation, the rules of the purest honor. These rules were specified in This night he was summoned to appear for initiation. He presented himself, was received in due form, and was astonished to find in the head of the order no less a person th n his own uncle. "Now,” be thought, with a sigh of relief, “I am safe. We are members of the same order. He is my superior. Henceforth his honor is sacred to me.”

The nett night he went to the open. It was an impassioned play, ana the house was crowded. Cora Elliston occupied her own box. After the first act Eugene attempted to go to her, but meeting several acquantances in the passage, was prevented from doing so. W uile he was talking with these, Warren Lelagd and Charley Raymonu passed them, and the thought that they might be going to Cor* irritated him. At last, after the fourth act, he went to visit her in her box, where he found her alone, his uncle having gone out for a few moments. He was astonished at entering to find the traces of tears on her cheeks. Her eyes were even moist. She seemed displeased at being surprised in the very act of sentimentality. “Music always "makes me nervous.” she said. “Indeed!” said Eugene. “You who always reproach me with hiding my merits, why do you hide yours? If you are still capable of weeping, so much the better.” “No! I claim no merit for that. Oh, my God! If you only knew! It is quite the contrary. ” “What a mystery you are!” Y “Are you very curious to fathom this mystery? Only that? Very well, be it so! It is time to put an end to this. ” She drew her chair from the front of the box out of public view, and, turning to Eugene, continued: “You wish to know what I am, what I feel, and what I think; or rather, you wish to know simply if I dream of love? Very well. I only dreom of that; and what is yet more, if I have or have not lovers, or if I never shall have a lover, it will not arise from virtue. I believe in nothing, but self-esteem and eon empt of others. These little intrigues, these petty passions, which I see in the world, make me indignant to the bottom of my soul. It seems to me that women, who give themselves for so little, must be base creatures. As for myself, to commit a sacrilege I would wish, like the vestals of Rome, a love as great as my crime, and as terrible as death “I wept just now during the fourth act. It was not because I listened to the marvelous music; it was because I admire and envy passionately the superb and profound love represented. And it is ever thus—when I read of such things I am in ecstasies.* “How well the people of the sixteenth century knew how to love and how to die! One night of love—then death. That is delightful. “Now, my friend, you must leave me We are observed. They will believe we love each other, and as we have not that pleasure, it is useless to incur the penalties. Good-night.” “I thank you very much,” replied Eugene, tak ng the hand she extended ‘him coldly, and left the box. He met his uncle in the passage. “Ah! my dear fellow,” said Mr. Elliston, seizing him by the arm. “I must tell you an idea that has been in my mind all the evening. ” “What is it, uncle?” “Well, there are here this evening a number of charming young girls. This set me to thinking of you and yonr loneliness, and I even said to my wife, that we must marry yon in due time to one of these young ladies!” “Oh. uncle!” “Well, why not?” “It is such a serious thing. If one makes a mistake in his choice “Pshawl .it is not so difficult to avoid that. Take a wife like mine, who has a great deal of religion, not much imagination, and no fancies. This is the whole secret. I tell you this in confidence, my dear fellow.” “Well, then, uncle, at the proper time I will think of it. ” “Do think of it,” said the other, in a serious tone; and went to. join his young wife whom he understood so well. Eugene left the opera in a peculiarly disturbed slltg: .. His mind still dwelt upon his fair conneciiOP- He felt, however, more sure of himself, sipce he had bound himself by the strictest itjligu-. tions of honor. He abandoned himself from this moment with less scruple to the emotions and to the danger against which he believed himself invincibly protected. He did not fear oftener to seek the society of his beautiful connection, and even contracted the habit of repairing to her bouse almost every day. Whenever he found her a lone, their conversation invariably assumed on both sides a tone of ironv and raillery, in which Doth excelled. He did not forget her reckless confidence at the opera, and willingly recalled it to her, asking her if she had yet discovered that hero of love, for whom she was seeking. At last the night of the ball came. Cora’s parties were justly renowned tor their magnificence and good taste. She did the honors with the grace of a queen. This evening she had a very, simple toilet, as was becoming in the courteous hostess. She wore a long dress ot dark velvet; her arms were bare, without jewels; a necklace of large pearls on her rose-tinted bosom, and a rich coiffure was placed on her fair hair. Eugene caught her eye as he entered, as though she were watching for him. He had seen her on the previous evening, and they had had a more lively skirmish than usual. He was struck by her brilliancy—her beauty heightened, without doubt, by the secret ardor of the quarrel, as though illumined by an interior flame, with all the clear, soft splendor of a transparent alabaster vase. When he advanced to join her and salute her, yielding, against hie will, to an involuntary mov< ment of passionate admiration, he said: “You are truly beautiful this evening Enough so to make one commit a crime.” She looked fixedly in his eye, and replied: "I should like to see that, ’’ and then left him with superb nonchalance. Mr. Elliston approached, and, tapping the young man on the shoulder, said: “Eugene, you are to spend the evening with me, you know. Let us retire to the snuggery.” “Willingly, sir,” and traversing two or three apartments they reached the retreat. It was a small, oval room, very lofty, tapestried with thick, red silk, covered with dark flowers. As the doors were removed, two heavy curt ains isolated it completely from the neighboring hall. It was here that Mr. Elliston spent the greater part of the time during his parties and balls. After an hour or so spent in talking, Mr. Elliston threw himself on the divan and Eugene took up a I ook. Little by little the elder gentleman fell into a doze, his head resting on his chest. Eugene threw down his book, and, starting n P> placed his back against the mantelpiece. He listened vaguely to the music of the orchestra, and fell into a reverie. Through these harmonies, the murmurs and warm perfume of the ball, he followed, in thought, all the evolutions of her who was the mistress and queen of i* all. He saw her supple and proud step; he heard her grave and musical voice; he felt her breath. He was not positively in love; but his imagination had roused itself all inflamed, before this beautiful, living, and palpitating st tue. She w.c really for him more than a woman—more than a mortal. The antique fables of amorous goddesses and intoxicated Bacchantes, the superhuman voluptuousness unknown in terrestrial pleasures, were in the reach of his h <nd, separated from him only by the shadow of this sleeping old man. But this shadow was ever between them—it was honor. His eyes, ns if lost in thought, were fixed straight before him on the curtain which was opposite the chimney. All at once this curtain was noiselessly raised, and Cora presented herself under the rile of • urtains, her brow surmounted with her rich coiffure. She threw » rapid glance ever the room.

. - and after amoment’a pause let tue curtain fall gently, and advance 1 directly toward Eugene, who stood stupefied and immovable. She took both his hands, without speaking, looked at him steadily, throwing a rapid glance on her husband, who still slept, and, standing on tiptoe, offered her lips to the young man. Bewildered utterly, and forgetting all else, he stooped down and imprinted a kiss on her lips. At that very moment her husband made a sudden movement slid waked up; but the same instant she was standing before him, her hands resting on a little card table, and smiling upon him, she said: “Good-morning, my dear!” He murmured a few words of apology, but she laughingly pushed him back on the divan. “Continue your nap,” she said. “I have come in search of Eugene. I want him to conduct a little party through the garden.” Her husband obeyed. She passed out through the hall. The young man, pale as a specter, followed her. * Passing under the outer curtain, she turned toward him with a wild luht burning in her eyes. Then, before she was lost in the crowd, she Whispered, in a low. thrilling toice: “There is the crime?” CHAPTER XIV. IN WORDS OF BLOOD. Eugene did not attempt to rejoin her, and it seemed to him that she also avoided him. A quarter of an hour later he left his uncle’s house. He returned immediately home. A light was burning in his chamber. When he saw himself in the glass in passing, his face terrified him. This exciting scene had shaken his nerves. He could no longer control himself. He saw clearly that Cora,. having determined on her course, would go to any length to carry out her purpose. The fact itself did not surprise him. Woman is more exalted than man in elevation of morals. There is no virtue, no devotion, no heroism in which she does not surpass him; but once impelled to the verge of the abyss, she falls faster than man. This is attributable to two causes; she has more passion, and she has no honor. For truly honor is a reality and must not be underrated. Honor is a noble, delicate, and salutary habit. It elevates manly qualities. It is the prudery of man. It is sometimes a force, and always a grace. But to think that honor is allsufficient; that in the face of great interests. great passions, great trials in life, it is a support and infallible defense; that it can enforce the precepts which come from on High—in fact, that it can replace God—this is to commit a terrible mistake. It is to expose one’s self in a fatal moment to the loss of one’s self-esteem, and to fall all at once and forever into that dismal ocean of bitterness, wheie Eugene Cleveland at that instant was struggling in despair, like a drowing man in the darness of midnight. He abandoned himself, on this evil night, to a final conflict full of agony; and he was beaten. The next evening at 6 o’clock he was at his uncle’s house. Mr. Elliston was in Washington. He found Cora at home, surrounded by all her regal luxurv. She was looking a little pale and fatigued. She received him with her usual coldness and self-possession. “Good/evening, - ” she said. “How are you?” < “Not vgty well,” replied Eugene. “What is the matter?” “I fancy that you know.” She opened her large eyes wide with surprise, but did not reply. “I entreat you, Cora,” continued Eugene, smilin?, “no more music; the curtain is raised, and the drama has commenced. ” "Ah, let us see thats” “D 6 you love me, asjyou once told me you did?” he went on, _ “or were you siinply’acrifig. to-tfyme, fesWvefrihf?—Cafi* you, or will you tell me?” “I certainly could, but I do not wish to do so. ” ‘ “I had thought you more frank.” “I have my hours. ” » . . “Well, then,” said Eugene, “if your hours of frankness have passed, mine have commenced.” “That would be compensation," she replied. “And I will prove it to you,” continued Eugene. » “I shall make a fete of it, ” said Cora, throwing herself into an easy chair, like one who was making herself comfortable to enjoj r an agreeable conversation. “I love you, Cora, and as you wish to be loved. I love you devotedly and unto death, enough to kill myself, or—you!” “That is well. ” said the lady softly. “But,” he continued, in a hoarse and constrained tone, “in loving you, in telling you of it, in trying to make you share my love, I basely violate the obligations of honor which you know of, and others you know not of. I put away from me tender memories, both sweet and sad. It is a crime, as you have said. I do not try to extenuate my offense. I see it, I judge it, and I accept it. I break the last moral tie that is left me. I leave the ranks of men of honor, and I leave also the ranks of humanity. I have nothing human left except my love; nothing $ icred but you; but my crime elevates itself by its very magnitude. [TO BE CONTINUED, j Ben Butler’s Wealth. Any list of Boston millionaires would be incomplete without the name of Benjamin F. Butler, who is estimated by close observers to be worth between $5,000,000 and $6,000;000. He is really more identified with Boston than with Lowell, though he has his magnificent residence in the latter place. His law offices in Ashburton place, Boston, are the finest in the city, and there he may be found early and late when not in court or traveling, for, unlike most of the lawyers of Boston, he has a large practice in New York, Washington and Chicago, where he has copartnership offices. His law practice is worth SIOO,OOO a year. He lives well, is very generous, and his famous yacht America is one of the finest. The bulk of his fortune has been make by investing in manufactories. — Boston Letter to Richmond Times. Two kinds of Coats. “You see this coat?” he queried of the proprietor of an establishment on Champlain, street as he stood in the door. “Vhefl.” “I paid you $5 for it, and the sleeves have shrunk six inches.” “I see.” “ Whiii are you going to do about it ?” “My frendt, it vhas your own mis - take. We has coats dot der sleeves shrink six inches, and odder coats dot der sleeves grow a foot. You vhas in a hurry and you doan’ say which kind you want. You should always take time in buying a coat. In sooch a case as dis you should go by some machinery and have your arms pulled down.”— Detroit Free Press. The Germans are said to be much interested in M. Paul Giffard’s repeating air rifled well-named “the miracle gun ” It uses a steel cartridge about a foot long and as thick as a man’s thumb, which is charged with liquefied air and contains three hundred shots. The shots are expelled with great force and accuracy, and without flash or smoke. The weapon is very inexpensive.

Business Directory. THE DECATUR NATIONAL RANK. capital, 160,000. Surplus, 17,000. Organised August 1& 1888. ~ Officers T. T. Dorwin, President; P.W.Smith. Fire-President; R. 8. Peterson, Cashier; T. T. Dorwin, P. W. Smith. Henry Derkee. 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 Decatur. Adams County Bank Capltri. 875,000. Surplus, 875,000. Organized in 1»71. Officers—D. Studabaker, President; Jesse tfiblick,Vice-President; W. H.Niblick, Cashier. Do a general banking business. Collections made in all parts of the country. County, City and Township Orders bought. Foreign ana Domestic Exchange bought and sold. Interest paid on time deposits. IHRANCB A MERRYMAN. j. t. trancb. A- X. T. MIRRYMUI Attorneys eat Zaw-vcr, DBCATUK. INDIANA. Office Nos. 1, 3 and 3, over the Adams County Bank. Collections a specialty. HOUSE, L J. MIESSE, Propristec. Decatur, Ind. Location Central—Opposite Court House. Th* leading hotel in the city. A. e. BOLLOWAY, «so SBxxrsooxx Office over Burns’ harness store, residence at Mr. Elias Tyrrill's, southwest corner Third and Monroe streets. All calls promply attended to in city or country night or day. JQ. NEPTUNE, • DENTIST. Now located over Holthouse’s shoe store, and Is prepared to do all work pertaining to the dental profession. Gold filling a specialty. By the use of Mavo’g Vapor he is enabled to extract teeth without pain. AU work warranted. O.T. May, ML ’ Flxy Svxrseoxx Monroe. - . - Indiana. All calls promptly attended to day or night. Office at residence. WILLIAM M. MYERS, Fliyeiicia.il dbSurgeon Specialty—The Treatment of Women. Office at residence. 157 West Wayne street. Ft. Wayne. Indiana, from lO to 12 a. in. and 3 to ft p. m. Telephone 89. 5m3 L. H. Zeigler, Veterinary Surgeon. Modus Operandl. Or Igl-/ chotomy, Overotomy, Castrating jfrS Ridgling Horses and Spaying Cattie and Dehorning, and treating their diseases. Office near Romberg's livery Stable, Decatur, Indiana. 3E3- EC. ließUrrNT. Veterinary Surgeon, Alonroe, Xxxd.. Successfully treats all diseases of Horses and Cattle. Will respond to calls at any time. Prices reasonable. James R. Bobo, A-fc Isaw DecafMr, - Indiauußo Paul G. Hooper, jOLttoxrxxey At Xsantv Oeeatur, - - Indiana. MRS. M.L. HOLLOWAY, M. D* Having again located in Decatur, one door north ot the M. E. Church, will engage in the practice of Medicine, giving especial attention to 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. m., except Thursday and Saturday afternoons. 35 MONEY TO LOAN On Farm Property on Long Time. 2NT<> Comznlmmloxi. Low Rata of Interest. Fayrnexitai In any amounts caa be made at any time and stop interest. Call on, or address, A. I. GBUBB, or J, P, MANN, Office: Odd FeUows’ Building, Decatur. 4 FBBT WB mR and Wi Tata Eaitadi, jlOca The SHORT LINE Between KM NORTH and south ‘ Mia Solid Trains To And From fillC 1 wc lw WATI ” mill Jkd. Through Coaches Between INDIANAPOLIS & FORT WAYNE ■ilK'VjTfcVa ® uro Connections kin I r —andVi Unexcelled Bervlo* i VSvMtVfewk —■ i a For Rates and oth1 ®\\ \\ > er information call ImW U <\\ A’* ® n nearest sgent Mr W. H. FISHER, \ Gen’l Pass. A Ticket W' Agt., Ft Wayne, Ind. GEO. W. BRADBL-tti, General Manager. R, R SUTTON, Sup’S. Whitewater R.B TIME CARD.—SOUTH. May 18, 1880. Standard Tima Fort Wayne....hr* a 00 am tW 2a am* 6 40pn Bluffton .ar ass 'll 21 741 Moiatp*lier 7 30 11 5a 8 14 Hartford 748 12 10 pm 833 Muncie.... 8 30 12 50 9 15 Indiiu^ipolia. 10 30 3 50 11 20 Cincinnati s :>0 .......... Louisville 7 0o * Daily NORTH. t Ex. Sunday. Louisville ................... f 73, Cincinuaii ...| 7 59 Imiiauapulis .... t7 00 am 11 15 3 15 pn Muncie *9.5 115 pm 510 Hanford 9 45 I 57 5 50 Montpelier Iu fti 215 - 808 Bluffton 10 .i« 9 48 8 38 Fon Wayne 11 36 3 43 7 40 ONE FARE TRIP 'SUNDAYS

Notice to Teachers! Notice is hereby given that there will be a eblic examination of teachers at the office of > county superintendent, tn Decatur. Indiana. on the last Saturday of each month Applcants for license must present “the proper trustee’s certificate or other evidence of good moral character, and to be successful must pass a good examination In orthography, read Ing. writing, arithmetic, gregraphy. English grammar, physiology, history of the United States, science of education, and present ou the day of examination, a review or composition upon one ot the following named books: Tale or Two Cities. David Copperfield. Ivanhoe, Heart of Midlothian, Henrv Esmond. The Spy. The Scarlet Letter. Tbe Sketch Book. Knicker bpeker’s New York. 1 he Happy Boy (by Bjorneon). Poem* of Longfellow. Poems of Bryant, Poems of Whittier. Poems of Lowell. Hawthorne’s ’Marble Faun;’ and Carlyle’s ‘Heroes and Hero Worship.' Holmes’‘Autocrat of the Breakfast Tabla McMaster’s ‘Life of Franklin.’ and Charle* Race’s ‘Put Yourself in His Place.’ Said oomr>o»!tlon shall contain not less shan fiOO nor more than IJXXi words, shall be in the applicant'* ° wr handwriting, and shall ba accompanied with * declaration that it is the applicant's origins' work. Reviews will be graded on peumansb'p, orthography and composition. fcxa®i»ath>iis will begin promptly at 8:39 a. m. No i’.o-nse will be granted to applicants under seventeen years of age. after August M«9 J F SNOW Co. Sum. FOR MEN ONLY! MSTor bailing manhood I F| * I ifowGeneral and NERVOUS DEBILITY MFlljHlsr'Y?! lk “ e “ o i. Bod 7 andMin d. Effects yiroraor Excesses in Old or Younst Robust, Noble MANHOOD Itally Restored. How to arid WKAK. CSDE VKM>PKD ORGANS A PARTS OF §ODY. Absolutely ■nfbilln* HOM TRKATMK.NT— Benefits In a day. Mom testify BUUe«d Ferel<M Writethei John F. JLachot Berzie, Ind,, Keeps a full line of Pure Drugs . « Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Brushea, Oils. Toilet and Fancy Articles. Also a complete stock of Choice Family Groceries, ■r■ * ■ AH of which will be sold at lowest living price*. Physicians’ Prescriptions carefully compounded. Give him a calL SPECIAL JiOTILE. I desire to say to the people of Adams County ‘hat if you want an abstract to your land, Mortgage or deed executed you can get the same done with neatness and dispatch by calling on A. MOW. BOLLMAN, Beoordar.

C. T. DOBWIN. 1 • I A. A. NICHOLS. J. ROBT. CHRISTRN. DECATUR STONE AND LIME CO., ' Proprietors of the DOLOMIC LIMESTONE QUARRIES a \ —And Manufacturers of * Doorand Window Sillsjand Caps, Range Work, Monument Bases, Curbing, Wall Stone and JSBxxo'ver xA/ lilte Xjixxxo. and dealers in Plaster Paris, Plastering Hair, Portland and Louisville Cement. We guarantee tse quality of oikr Lime equal to any made. Call on us and we will convince S>u that you can save money by dealing with us, Quarfy and warehouse, north of Second St ty office. Dorwin’s Photograph Gallery. 6m6 MONEY TALKS. . 1 ' : Porler’s Hamess shod And Second-Hand Store I • . . ■ • .’ •• f 1 Tell their own stary. Having removed to the Kover Hall Building, 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 ‘ CHEAPER THAN DIRT! • • . 5 - - '■’'?! Don’t be humbugged nito buying high priced goods without first seeing my im«. mense stock and learning the inducements 1 ha v e to offer. g®“Hunt me up and save your $ $ $ $ ■ S. Porter. Madison Street, West of Stone’s Hardware Store. poos . * • ■ 'J- - ■ . ■ . f75*000 Worth of Superbly Made JL JltxJlJbwl Due to our large facilities for Manufacturing, enables us to offer the Largest, tot - . Richest and most Varied Assortment of I •'’ • ’ Spring anS Summer ©letblng At prices that dejy competition. Every Mill of worth at home and abroad is rep* • ’ . resented in our stock of ctotwc* Working Suits, from 13.00 upwards. Business Suits, from 17.00 upwards. J I Dress Suits, from |io.oo upwards Our Children’s and Furnishing Goods Department is full of new, bright Novel ties and admired by all. ’ -mH nXXkBY * OONDPAITYb *■ 1 16 and 18 East Berry Street. Fart Wayne, Indiana.

Chlcagt ami Iflaatk With its Pullman-built aquipment, substaa* Maliy constructed roadway. asMI law rates tare insure a sate, speedy, and economical journey to aU points EAST OR WEST. ! Writeio your nearest railway agent for tk* low rates via this line. . TIME-CARD IN EFFECT JULY 83, ISSB. ~ MF 5 I? sT~ Station*— Ex Paclfio Chic’o Way Throf Ex. Ex. Frei't FreiT. PM. A.M. Bos ton... It 300 830 2 f.m. New York 8 80 3 co AM. PM. Marion 800 11 20 12 5s 300 AM. Kenton... 8M 1210 135 420 ....... Jagger 917 15 n 3 ....... Lima ®45 105 11 If 645 * Spencer'Ue. 10 14 6 3o Enterprise. 10 45 303 720 Decatur.. .11 20 226 330 815 Kingsland. 11 W 900 ....*. PM. Hnntintn... 12 35 326 425 to 00 Bolivar 1 16 Newton.... 119 408 458 Akr0n...... 1 42 Rochester.. 208 445 638 Na 15 AM. ....... N. Judson.. 315 ...... 650 ....... K0ut5...... 347 622 ....... Cr. Point.. 4 35 7 15 Hammond. 510 725 800 800 ....... Englewood. 5 44 755 8 30 535 Archer Ave. 606 8 15 850 900 Chicago, .ar 615 825 900 910 GOING EAST. '* 8 io 12 TJ Stations— Acoom Atlanc Mail Way Thro* Hunt Ex. Ex. Frei t. Freit. AM. Alt PM Pml “ Chicago. .Iv 10 15 750 720 635 ....... Archer Ave. 10 25 800 730 645 ....... Englewood. 10 45 820 750 605 ....... Hammond.. 1115 850 820 640 ....... Cr. Point 923 Bso 7IS ....... Kouts 10 Os 7 58 N. Judson. 10 37 *9 57 836 .' PM. Rochester.. 126 11 44 uqi PM. Akron 12 OS 11 211 .’ Newton.'... 203 12 30 11 42 Bolivar 12 36 Na 18 AM 'AM. Hnntintn .. 240 125 12 25 525 Kingsland.. '• 2 05 46 If Decatur.... 330 230 119 652 Enterprise. ...4... 303 11 So 740 Spencer’Ue. 35s 211 82l Lima 442 401 236 85s Jagger 4 30 +9 *0 Kenton.... 525 455 325 10 28 Marion ..ar 605 555 4 10. U 65 PM AM New York.. 5 00 7 00 PM. Boston 10 Oo 12 40 tTrains stop only cn *’gnaL Trains 8, 12, 16, 3,5, 5, laily. Trains 17 and 18 dail except Sunday. Where no time is allow" trains do not stop. Ask for your tickets via rhe Chicago A Atlantic Railway, and your journey will be one ot comfort and p easure. F. C. DONALD, Gen’l Paaa Agt. G. BL BEACH, Gen’l Manager. Chicago.