Decatur Democrat, Volume 34, Number 39, Decatur, Adams County, 19 December 1890 — Page 3

COKE. BttKMILIE CXIBU Come wh<m the twilight ha* gem* to her hatr. And the j-alecrescent, shine* on her brow— When the hawthorn hoe shadow* (urpasitngly fair. And the roses and lilies Impregnate the air , Thatwpoods on your pessionatevow. Come when the flre-fllo’s »*,mp i* aglow. And tho wood-pigeon wooes In the grove, When the apple-tree btessoms a carpet of snow HfcsT make for our feet a pathway to go, A* we whisper the sweet word* of love. Come when the oora-tussel dance* and gleam* In thollght of tho summer sun-tide, 8 And tho leave* whisper low to the shadowy stream*, A* a wandering minstrel delightedly dream* He lingers hi* laved one* beside. Sot>mc when the harvest 1* garnered again. When the vintage hangs dark on the vine, When the fn-st-king ha* frescoed the lichen and pane, ...-J And the harp and the viol awaken the strain We loved ta the day* of lang syne. Some in the evening, at morn, or at noon, lu spring-tirno with boauty and song, Some in Uro summer with sunshine and bloom, Some in tho autumn, to the desolate room That ha« waited your coming so long Some, though the wind* of tho winter of life Have drifted your dear locks with snow, Though tho world has boon only with enmity rife, Corroding your sonl with tho changes and strife, And left you in shadows of woe. Always, as over we whisper your name, , We cry in our loneliness, “Como I" Come in your honor, your glory, your fame, Come in your sorrow, humility, shame, „ This heartis your kingdom, your home. Axjta, lowa. BETRAYED; OB A DARK MARRIAGE MORN. 4 Romance of tone, Intrigue and Crime. BY MRS. ALICE P. CARRISTON. CHAPTER XXIX jContinued.) Some time now passed without making any sensible change in the relations of tho different persons of this story. This was the most brilliant phase, an i probably the happiest, ia the lift of Eugene Cleveland. The sudden death of Sidney Leland had more than doubled his fortune, and his careful business management and clever speculations augmented it every day. Mrs. Leland continued to reside at her old home in Roxbury, where her son passed much of his time. Clara Denton and Mildred Lester were •till, for the most part, in New York, and there were now bright hopes that Mildred would soon be her old seif again—this the great specialist emphatically promised. Warren Leland passed all his evenings, when he was in the city, in their society. Eugene ('loteland’s liaison with Cora Elliston, without being proclaimed, was suspected, and completed his prestige. His prosperity, toe, was great. It was, nevertheless true that he did not enjoy it without trouble. Two black spots darkened the sky above his head, and might contain destroying thunder. . His life was eternally suspended on a thread. Any day Senator Elliston might be informed of the intrigue which dishonored him, either through some selfish reason or through public rumor, which began to spread. Should this ever happen, he knew L. uncle would never submit to it, and he had determined never to defend his life against his outraged friend and relative. This receive, firmly decided upon in his secret sou], gave him the last solace to his con sc cnce. All his future destiny was thus at the mercy of an accident mo“t likely to happen. The s&cond cause of his disquietude was the jealous hatred manifested by Cora against the young rival she had herself selected. After having jested freely on this subject at first, she hod, little by little, ceased oven te aillude te Eugene could not iptrijcflersttind certain mute .symptoms. ante was sometimes alarmed at this si ent joa.*<X2*y. Fearing to exasperate this most violent feminine sentiment in so strong a soul, he was compelled, day- by day, to resort to tricks which wounded his pride, and probably his heart also; for his wife, to whom his now conduct was inexplicable, suffered intensely, and he saw it. One evening there was a grand reception at the Elliston mansion. Cora, before making a little trip with hey husband, whoso duties at Washington were now over for the season, was making her adieus to a choice group of her friends. '■ , Although this fete professed to be but a sociable gathering, she had organized it with her u«ip<l elegance and taste. A kind of gallery, composed of verdure and of flowers, cimnectod the drawingrooms with the conservatory at the other end of the garden. • This evening proved a very painful one to Flora. Her husband’s xegleet of her was so marked, his assidu ties to Cora so per-, sistent, their nautial understanding so apparent, that th« young wife felt the pain of her deserti an to an almost insupportable degree. She went and took refuge in the conservatory, and find ng herself alone there, commenced weeping. A few moments later, Eugene, not seeing her in the drawing-room, became uneasy. She saw him as re entered the conservatory, by one of those instantaneous glances by which women contrive to see without looking. f She pretended to be examiningVthe Howers, and by a strong effort of will dried her tears. Her husband .dvanced slowly toward her. “What a magn ficent camellia!” he said to her. “Do Know thi- variety?” “Verywell,’” rhe replied; “this is the camellia that we<spa “ » He broke off tne flowers. “Flora,” he s lid, “I have never been much addicted to sentimentality, but i ' this flower I shall keep.” She turned neon him her astonished eyea. “Because I lo e it.” fie added. Iho noise o: A step made them both , turn. It was Cora Elliston, who was crossing the conservator? on the arm of a young English uoblen.an. i “Pardon me,' she said, smiling; “I have disturbed you. How awkward of : me!” and she p <ssed out. ° Flora auddei ly grew very red, and her husband very pale. The Englishman alone did not change color, for he comprehended nothing. Flora, unde - pretext of a headache, which her fact did not belie, returned home immed itely, promising her husband to send ' ack the carriage for him. Shortly after, Cbra, obeying a secret ■ign from Z gene, rejoined him in the retired annggiry. which recalled to them both the most culpable incident of their lives. She • t down beside him on the lounge with haughty nonchalance. “Whet is i, ” she asked. “Why do on watch mo?” asked Eugene. “Iti* in worthy of you!” “Ah! an explanation? Disagreeable thing. It to the first between us—at least, let us >e quick about it, and complete.” She epoke a a voice of restrained pas■ion, her eyea fixed en her foot, which the twisted in h» satin shoo.

"Well, tell the truth,’ she said. “Tea are.in love with your wife.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Unworthy of you, I repeat” “What, then, mean these delicate attentions to her?” “You ordered me to marry her, but not to kill her, I suppose?" She made a strange movement of her eyebrows, which he did not see, for neither of them looked at the other. Aftef"M»use, she said: “ She hasher son! She has her mother! I have no one but you! Hear me, Eugene; do not make me jealous, for, when I am so, ideas torment me which terrify even myself. “Wait an instant." she continued, still more earnestly. “Since we are on this subject, if you love her, tell me so. You know me—you know I am not fond of petty artifices. Well, I fear so much the sufferings and humiliations of which I have a presentiment, I am so much afraid of myself, that I offer you and give you your liberty, I prefer this horrible grief, but which is at least open and noble! It is no snare that I set for you, believe me! Look at me, I seldom weep.” The dark blue of her eyes was bathed in tears. Q “Yes. I am sincere,” she went on; “and I beg of you, if it is so, profit by this moment, for, if you let it escape, you will never find it again." Eugene was little prepared for this decided proposal. The idea of breaking off his liaison with Cora never had entered his mind. This linison seemed to him very reconcilable with the sentiments his wife would inspire him with. It was at the same time the greatest wickedness and the perpetual danger of his life, but it was also the excitement, the pride, and the magnificent voluptuousness of it. He shuddered. The idea of losing the love which had cost him so dear exasperated him. He east a burning glance on this beautiful *f ace, refined and exalted as that of a warring archangel. “My life is yours," be said. “How ' eould you have alarmed yourself, or even thought of my feelings toward another? I do what honor and humanity command m«—nothing more. As lor you—l love you—understand that. ” “Is it trutf?” she asketf. “It is true! I Relieve you!” She took his hand and gazed at him • moment without speaking, her eyes dimmed, her bosom palpitating; then wuddenlv rising, she said: “My beloved, you know I have guests!” and saluting him with a smile left the little room. This scene, however, left a disagreeable impression on the mind of Eugene Cleveland. He thought of it impatiently the next morning while trying a horse in Central Park—when he suddenly found himself face to face with the ex-private secretary, Oscar Slyme. He had never seen this personage since the day he had ventured to make love to his wife. The park was almost deserted at this hour. Slyme could not avoid, as he had probably done more than once, encountering Cleveland. Seeing himself recognized he saluted him anc| stopped, with an uneasy smile on his lips. His worn black coat and doubtful linen showed poverty unacknowedged but profound. Eugene did not notice these det dis, or his natural generosity probably would have been awakened and have curbed the sudden indignation which took possession of him. He reigned in his horse sharply. “Ah, it is you, Slyme?" he said,, “You have left Boston, then? What are you doing now?" “I am looking for a situation, Mr. Clevland,” said Slyme. humbly, who knew his old rival too well not to read clearly in the curl of his mustache the nrognostic of a storm. “And why,” said Eugene, “do you not return to your trade of locksmith? You are so skillful at it! The most complicated locks had no secret for you." “I do not understand your meaning,” murmured Sh me. “Ah, a liar as well as a picklock, eh?”and throwing out these words with an accent of withering scorn, Eugene, striking him one sharp blow across the face with his riding whip, tranquilly passed on at a walk. Instantly the face of the ex-secretary became ghastly white, save only for the fiery red mark across it. A look of mortal hatred came into his eyes. Be gazed after the slowly retreating form of the horseman until a bend in the road hid him from view; then hissing out the words, “You shall pay dearly for that, Eugene Cleveland!” he turned and hurried away. CHAPTER XXX. PREPARING FOR THE TRAGEDY. Mildred Lester and her devoted friend and constant companion, Clara Denton, did not spend all their time in New York. Scarcely a week passed during which they did not visit Clara’s home in Roxbury, for a day, at least, and oftentimes when they returned io the city, Edith Denton, who was rapidly developing into a lovely yoeng woman, would accompany them. The great specialist was assiduous in his attentions on Mildred, and almost at every visit emphatically declared that the time was now close at hand when"- all that she had ever lost would be restored to her. Thus far the past had come back to her gradually, but in the doctor’s opinion the complete restoration of her faculties would be instantaneous, and probably brought about by some great and sudden shock. Warren Leland, who had now attained ths object of his ambition and was a member of Congress, was indefatigable in his attentions to the two ladies. Whether they were in New York or Roxbury, he too was there, and at last the devoted Clara h id the desine of her soul gratified, his affections were wholly transferred to Mildred, and abruptly, one evening, ho asked her to be his wife, and was accepted. Ktraege as it may seem, while he yet retained the warmest regard for Clara Denton, he almost idolized Mildred—felt for her a love, • passion, which even the beautiful and royal Clara had never inspired, And he could not bear to be absent from her side even for a day. Under these circumstances he urged that the marriage should take place with the least possible delay, and after some deliberation an early day was set, and preparations for the interesting event were begun in earnest. And now ;Edith became a very important personage. Her services were required by her mother and Mildred from early dawn till latest eve. Everybody called upon her for assistance. She became a female Mercury, and her face was soon as well known in the great dry goods establishments as those of the proprietors themselves. More than once in her excursions she had met a lovely young lady, several years her senior, but with the sweetest yet sadest face, she thought she had ever seen. . One day, in Marcey’s she saw this lady in conversation with the physician who attended Mildred, and at once intimated to him that she should like an introduction. a He responded promptly. ( “Miss Fielding,” he said, “permit me to J make you acquainted with my charming young friend, Miss Edith Denton. Miss Denton, this is Miss Fielding. She will tell you presently that her name is Meta Fielding. I am really pleased, young ladies, that through me you two should become known to each other.” “No more pleased than I am,” exclaimed Edith, heartily. “I have wanted to make her acquaintance ever since I first saw her, and I am glad you were the medium through which my desire has been gratified. ” “Bo you really wanted to know m«, dear?” asked Meta, in a pleased tone.

"Tee, indeed, I did," answered Edith, emphatically. “And I wa* most anxious to make yowr acquaintance. Your face pleased me so much.” They talked for some time together, and before ti< ey parted j&dith had promised to pay Meta a visit the very next day. Os course, when she reached home, Edith was full of her new friend, and could talk of nothing dee. “Meta Fielding!” repeated Mildred, with a troubled look. “Meta Fielding! Surely I have heard that name before.” “When and where, dear?” asked Clara, eagerly. “Wa* it in the old times, before your sickness?” “Yes, yes, it was before that, when I ” and then she stopped, with a bewildered expression on her face. A little later Warren Leland called, and Clara at once asked him if he knew a lady named Fielding. “Meta Fielding,” supplemented Edith; “and she lives on West Forty-seventh “A single lady, I suppose?” he said. “Yes, and young.” "N-no,” said Warren, slowly. “I don’t think I have the pleasure of the young lady’s acquaintance. “She has a brother named Bay, and he’s in a bank down town,” Edith explained. “Ah! that puts a different face on” the matter altogether,” said Leland. “I know Ray Fielding very well. He is now assistant cashier in the Atlantic National Bank, of which my father was President. Are you sure he’s her brother?” “Oh, yes,” said Edith; “Meta told me all about him. ” “Then it’s all right; the family is very well connected, and they are perfectly preper people to know.” “Glad to hear it!” exclaimed Edith; *for I intend to call on my new friend to-morrow.” “Do so, by all means." “You may be sure I shall." I “But, Wsrren,” broke in Clara, “Mil--1 dred feels sure she knew this Meta Field--1 ing in the old days; at least, she is certain she has heard the name before.” “She may have heard the name, but I hardly think she has ever met Miss Fielding. The brother and sister, I believe, have passed most of their lives in New York’ “Then where can she have heard the name?” “Why, perhaps in this very room. I have had short business notes, drafts, and other papers, signed by Fielding, almost every day, and, no doubt, have spoken his name in her presence." “Ah! that maybe.” “I am pretty sure that’s the explanation.” “I shall know to-morrow,” laughed Edith. “How will you find out?” asked Leland. “Easy enough,” was the reply. “I shall ask Meta if she ever knew Mildred Lester.” "Os course!" exclaimed her mother; “why didn’t we think of that before?” “"Because you’re not young and quickwitted as I am,” laughed the girl, as sh* fled from the room. When she was gone, Leland suddenly turned to her mother and asked: “When did you or your father hear from Mildred’s brother last?” “We have not heard from him in some time; indeed, for several months," was the reply. “He is still in the South or West, I believe." “But remittances come regularly?” “Yes—to my father.” “From where?” “From Mr. Lester’s agent here in New York.” “Have you his address?" “No, I have not; and I question if my father has. ” “That is unfortunate; for Mr. Lester should be notified of the impending event in his sister’s life.” “I have thought of that.” “Can you suggest anything?” “Perhaps if you saw and talked with my father, he might think of some way whereby you could communicate with Mr. Lester.” “I will go to Roxbury to-morrow.” “Do so; and meantime, I will look over what papers I have with me. I may find some note from him that will give me a clew.” The next day Leland went to Roxbury. At the station when he changed cars, he was surprised to see old Welch, the quondam rag-picker, boarding a Western bound train. Somehow, but why he eould not think, tho sight of him brought poor Amy Brownell and her wronged husband ito hit mind. But hastily dismissing these he thought of the old man. “Now, what ean he be going to New York for?” he mused. “Can it be that he is tired of a rural life? I hope not, for his daughter’s sake,” and hurrying to catch his own train he thought no more of the matter at the time. Meanwhile, Oscar Slyme, the “brother” with whom he was so anxious to communicate, was already thoroughly informed as to nil that had transpired relating to Mildred Lester since his last visit to her in Roxbury; and he knew perfectly well that she was likely very soon to marry Warren Leland. But instead of warning her er her friends of the terrible mistake they were about to make, he hugged himself with fiendish delight to think of the misery it would cause his hated enemy when he should hear of it; and he resolved that he should hear of it very soon after the wedding had taken place, when some other interesting things should be revealed. But did Osear Slyme no longer care for Cora Elliston? No, his eyes had been thoroughly opened; he knew he had merely been her tool, and he thoroughly hated it. But he did love Flora Leland. He knew Flora never could be his. He knew what he was about to do would make her hate him, and might kill her; but he was thoroughly resolved to wreak vengeance on Cleveland and Cora at any cost, and such a vengeance as never before was heard, of. Shen came in cunning and calculation, he«persuaded himself that, by managing properly, he could gain a from Sherwood Elliston, for the unholy secret he possessed. He resolved, therefore, since he had the opportunity, to put himself, once for all, beyond misery and want, by cleverly speculating, through his secret, on the great fortune of the Senator. This secret he had already given to Flora under the inspiration of another sentiment, but he had then in his hands the proofs, which he now was without. It was necessary, then, for him to arm self with new and infallible proofs; but if the intrigue he was determined to unmask still existed, he did not despair of detecting something certain, aided by the general knowledge he had of the private habits and ways of both Eugene and Cora. This was the task to which he applied himself from this * moment, day and night, with an evil ardor of hate and jealousy. What would be the outcame? It is not difficult to guess. / CHAPTIER XXXL / DISCOVERY—DEATH. Eugene Cleveland was at his club one playing whist with the Senator. JHe remarked th>.t his uncle was not playing his usual game, and saw imprinted on his features a painful preoccupation, j “Are you in p > .>, u cier" said he, after they had finished their game. "No! no!” said the Senator; “I am only annoyed—a tiresome affair between two of my ten mts up the Hudson. I sent Johnson—mv head coachman, you know, and a good fellow—up'there this morning to inquire into it." The Senator made a few steps, then returned to Eugene and took him aside: “My young friend," he said, “I deceived you just now; I have something on my mind—somethin? very serious. I am, to tell the truth, very unhappy.” .

“Wbat is the matter?" askod Eugene, whose heart sank. “I shall tell you that probably to-mor-row. Come, in any case, to see me tomorrow morning, won’t you?” “Yes, certainly." “Thmks. Now I shall go, for I am really not well." He squeezed his hand more affectionately than usual. “Good-night, my dear boy,” he added, and turned around brusquely to hide the tears which suddenly filled his eyes. Eugene experienced for some moments a lively disquietude, but the friendly and tender adieus of the Senator reassured him that it did not relate to him. Still he continued astonished and even affected by the sad emotion of the old man. Eugene remained until midnight at the club and then walked to the Elliston mansion. He was introduced into the house with the customary precautions, and this time we shall fo 1 low him there. "Do you love me to-night, Eugene?" softly asked Cora. “Do yon doubt me, Cora? Do yon doubt me? Then I swear ith” replied Eugene with warmth and energy, as he kneeled at the feet of the fascinating creature. The sound of his voice had scarcely died away when the door suddenly opened before them. The Senator entered. Cora and Eugene instantly rose to their feet, and, standing side by side, motionless. gazed upon him. The Senator paused near the door. Ab he saw them a shudder passed ovex his frame, and his face assumed a livid pallor. 3 ' [TO BE CONTINUED.] OLD AGE. Dr. Holmes Talks of Youth and Maturity, and Gives a Prescription for Astonishing Census Clerks. I was a little over 20 years old when I wrote the lines which some of you may have met with, for they have been often reprinted: The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he lo red to hear ‘ Have been carved for many a year On the tomb. The world was a garden to mo then; it is a churchyard now. “I thought you were one of those who looked upon old age cheerfully, and welcomed it as a season of peace and contented enjoyment.” » I am one of those Who so regard it. Those are not bitter or scalding tears that fall from my eyes upon “the mossy marbles.” The young who left my side early in my life’s journey are still with me in the unchanged freshness and beauty of youth. Those who have long kept company with me live on after their seeming departure, were it only by the mere force of habit; their images are all around me, as if every surface had been a sensitive film that photographed them; their voices echo about me as if they had been recorded on those unforgetting cylinders which bring back to us the tones and accents that have imprinted them; as the extinct animals left their tracks on the hardened sands. The melancholy of old age has a divine tenderness in it, which only the sad experiences of life can lend a human soul. But there is a lower level —that of tranquil contentment and easy acquiescence in the condition in which we find ourselves; a lower level in which old age trudges patiently when it is not using its wings. I say wings, for no period of life is so imaginative as that which looks to younger people the most prosaic. The atmosphere of memory is one in which imagination flies more easily and feels itself more* at home than in the thinner ether of youthful anticipation. One of my prescriptions for longevity may startle you somewhat. It is this: Become the victim of a mortal disease Let half a dozen doctors thump you and knead you and test you in every possible way, and render their verdict that you have an internal complaint; they don’t know exactly what it is, but it will certainly kill you by and by.' Then bid farewell to the world and shut yourself up for an invalid. If you are three-score years old When you 1 egin this mode of life you may very probably last twenty years, and then you are—an octogenarian. In the meantime your friends outside have been dropping off one after another, until you find yourself almost alone, nursing your mortal complaint as if it were your baby, hugging it and kept alive by it—if :o exist is to live. Who has not seen cases like this, a man or a woman shutting himself or herself up, visited by a doctor or a succession of doctors (I remember that once in my earlv experience I was the twenty-seventh physician who hi>d been consulted), always taking medicine until everybody was reminded of that impatient speech of a relative of one of these invalid vampires who live on the blood of tired-out attendants. “I do wish she would get well—or something.” Persons who are shut up in that way, confined to their chambers, sometimes to their beds, have a very small amount of vital expenditure, tfnd wear out very little of their living substance. They are like lamps with half their wicks picked down, and will continue to burn when other lamps have used up all their oil. An insurance officer might make money by taking no risks except on lives of persons suffering from mortal disease.—Atlantic Monthly. , „ No Sass for, Her. great, sullen-looking, heavy-jawed arid brutal-appearing man, six feet tall and weighing at least two hundred pounds, came into a justice’s office in company with a little bit of a thin, wan, pale sadeyed woman who seemed to belong to that class of females who are “afraid to say ‘boo’ to a goose.” “We want to have a sep’ratin’,” said the man gloomily, while the frail little woman looked up with a mere suggestion of color showing in her thin cheeks. “A separation?” said the-judge. “Do you mean a divorce?” “I guess so,” replied the man sullenly. “Me and her can’t seem to git along no more.” “No, we can’t, jedge," the voice of the sorrowful little woman cut the air with a sound suggestive of the skillful cracking of a whip-lash, “we don’t git along at all, and I ain’t afeerd to say why, nntlfer. Here of late he don’t wanter do one solitary single thing I tell *im to do, and I’ve had jist enough o’ his sass, an’ yesterday I Up an’ tuk a noop-pole an’ gin him one good dressin’ down that I guess he won’t forgit right off, and he’s been talking ‘sen’ration’ and ‘divorcement’ ever sense, ana Lawd knows Fm willin’ fer either or both. The man don’t walk the airth who kin be sassy to me, no he don’t. Not much.”— Detroit Free Press. A Graceful Compliment. Miss Wellalong (who hopes by making light of her years to be thought quite young)—“Really, I prefer to look on. I am getting too old to dance, you know. ” Mr. Affable (who prides himself on always saying the right thing)—“Oh, come, now, you’re not old. I don’t believe you are within ten years as old as you look.” —Boston Times. Paresis, Perhaps. Inquiring guest—Waiter! Waiter—Yes, sah. Inquiring guest—What is this you have let fall on my bread? Waiter—Dat, sah, is calf’s brains on toast, sah. Inquiring guest (after a long and caresul observation) —What a deuced idiot that calf must have been!— Puck. The corner-stone of the Piedmont Institute has been broken open by a sneak thief and robbed of the bright new dollar placed there by Judge W. C. Barber. The papers were not disturbed. The institute walls are going up rapidly and the house will be ready for use by October-

Business Directory. THE DECATUR NATIONAL RANK, j Capital. KO.OOO. Surplus, «7,00A Organized August 1& 1883. CMBcers-T. T. Dorwln, President; Vice-President; R. S. Peterson, Cashier: T. T. 1 Doririn, P. W. Smith, Henry Derkes, J. H. Hol- I brook. B. J. Terveer, J. D. Hale and R. 8. Po- 1 teirson. Directors. We are prepared to make Loans on good soon- > rity, receive Deposits, furnish Domestic and j Foreign Exchange, buy and sell Government > and Municipal Bonds, and furnish Letters of i Ctedit available In any of the principal cities . of Europe. Also Passage Tickets to and from • tiie Old World, including transportation to , Decatur. ( I Adams County Bank ; Capital. 375,000. Surplus, 375,000. Organized in 1871. Officers—D. Btudabaker, President: Jesse ! Wiblick,Vice-President; W.H.Niblick, Cashier. ] Do a general banking business. Collections I made in all parts of the country. County, City and Township Orders bought. Foreign and Domestic Exchange bought and ■old. Interest paid on time deposits. ipRANCE A MERRYMAN. j. I. eranct. L J. I. MEBBYILAH A-ttornoya «a-t XLs*-wcr v DECATUR, INDIANA. Office Nos. 1, 2 and 3, over the Adams County Bank. Collections a specialty. HOUSE, L J. MIESSE, Propristsc. Decatur, Ind. > Location Central—Opposite Court Houaa TkS leading hotel in the city. A.«. ROIAOWAY, aioian. «*» Surgeon Office over Burns* harness store, residence at Mr. Elias TyrrtU’s, southwest corner Third and Monroe streets. AU calls promply attonded to In city or country night or day. JQ. NEPTUNE, • DENTIST. Now located over Holthouse’a shoe store, and I* prepared to do all work pertaining to the dental profession. Gold filling a specialty. By the use of Mayo’* Vapor he ia enabled to extract teeth without pain. All work warranted. o7T.~May, M. D, Burgeon Menree. ... Indiana. All call* promptly attended to day or night. Office at residence. WII&1AM H. MYERS, 3?lX2pwioia.Tx <B3Bxxx*@;goxx Specialty—The Treatment of Women. Office at residence. 157 West Wayne street. Ft. Wayne. Indiana, from 10 to 12 a. in. and 3 to S p. m. Telephone 89. 5m3 iPrnf. L. H. Zeigler, Veterinary Surgeon. Modus Operand!. Or chotomy, Overotomy, Castrating ■Rldgling Horses and Spaying Catt]o an( i Dehorning, and treating their diseases. Office near Romberg’s livery •table, Decatur, Indiana. Z>. EC. EieBEtUTC, Veterinary Surgeon, nffouroe, Xxxd. Successfully treats all diseases of Horses and Cattle. WiU respond to calls at any time. Prices reasonable. James R. Bobo, dO.ttoxrxxeT’ at Decatur, - - Indiana, Paul G. Hooper, Decatur, - • Indiana. MRS.M.LHOLLOWAYjM.D* Having again located in Decatur, one door north of theM. E. Church, will engage in the practice of Medicine, giving especial attention to Nervous Diseases peculiar to Women and ChUdren. 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. KTo Coxxxxxxlaiailoxx. Low Rate of Interest. X > »3rxxxexx < t» i“ j In any amounts caa be made at any time and stop interest. CaU on, or address, A. K, GBUBB, or J. JT. JfALJYJr, Office: Odd FeUows* Building, Decatur. FOHT WAYNT . gw*”- cismn and LOUISVILLE ; JM Whits Waler KaM, The SHORT LINE Between NORTH and SOUTH. ■Fa Solid Trains To And From 41® Cincinnati. ®i »’ Through Coaches Between 2 KskrWl INDIANAPOLIS & FORT WAYNE BilHyV Bure Connections . ,n E,nlon Depots. Lornil Ltu WV vl —AND- ' E I Un,XCel,o<lßor * ,< * l • Vw™ For Rate* and othlln\ \\ " Wax sr information call 3SS '“ * mAW’ W. H. FISHER. Gen*l Pass. A Ticks* Agt,, Ft Wayne, Ind. GEO. W. BRADBURY, General Manager. B. R SUTTON, Bup’t. Whitewater R. B. TIME CARD.—SOUTH ""~ May 18, 1800. Standard Time Fort Wayne....lv *6OO am flO 25 am * 6 40pn Blufftonar 6 58 11 21 7 41 Montpelier 7 30 11 52 8 14 Hartford 7*B 12 10 pm 833 Muncie 8 30 12 50 9 15 Indianapolis 10 30 \ 350 11 20 Cincinnati? 5 30 Louisville 7 00 * Daily NORTH. f Ex Sunday. Louisvillef7 3o Cincinnati 7 59 Indianapolis 47 00 am 11 15 3 15 pn Muncie....i* 905 115 pm 510 Hartford 945 157 550 . Montpelier 10 05 2 15 6 08 Bluffton 10 36 2 48 6 38 Fort Wayne 11 35 3 45 7 40 ONE FARE FOE 5 ROUND TRIP SUNDAYS

Notice to Teachers! Notice is hereby given that there will be a public examination of teachers at the office of the county superintendent, in Decatur, Indiana, on the last Saturday of each month. Appleants for license must present “the proper trustee’s oertiffieate or other evidence of good moral character,” and to be successful must pass a good examination in orthography, reading. writing, arithmetic, (geography. English grammar, physiology, history of the United tatee, science of education, and present on the day of examination/a review or composition upon one ot the following named books: Tale of Two Cities. David Copperfield, Ivanhoe, Heart of Midlothian, Henry Esmond, The Spy, The Scarlet Letter, The Sketch Book. Knickerbocker’s New York. The Happy Boy (by Bjornson). Poems 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 Table, McMaster’s ‘Life of Franklin.’ and Charles Blade’s ‘Put Yourself In His Place.* Said composition shall contain not less •han 600 nor more than 1.000 words, shall be in the applicant’* own handwriting, and shall be accompanied with a declaration that it Is the applicant's original work. Reviews will be graded on penmanship, orthography and composition. Examinations will begin promptly at 8:30 a. m. No iic—nse will be granted to applicants under seventeen years of age, after August 1880. J. F. SNOW. Co. Sup*. FOR MjEN ONLY! WllUilylfffifor DOST or FAILING MANHOOD 1711 “IrPnmGew* 1 and NERVOUS DFBTtTTV MINI l I Nil I ,t“ n ' sa of Body and Mind, Effect* f■■■ ■? V, ■ ■ {{Orff*?* 8 Os Excesses in Old or Younr, Bobast, Koble BANHOOD ftilly Restored. How to *0 State.nd Forels. ( o „tri£ John F. Lachot Berne, Xxxd... Keep* a full lln* «f Pure Drugs Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Brushes, Oils, Toilet and Fancy Articles. Also a complete stock of Choice Family Groceries, All of which will be sold at lowest living price*. Physicians’ Prescriptions cgrefully compounded. Give him a call. « SPECIAL NOTICE. I desire to say to the people of Adam* County that if you want an abstract to your land, Mortgage or deed executed you can get the same done with neatness and dispatch bv calling oa A McW. BOLLMAN, > * Record*.

C-*. IXJBWDL. A.A. mCHOIA. £9, ROBT. CHRISTKIT. DECATUR STONE AND LIME CO., Proprietors of the DOLOMIC LIMESTONE QUARRIES And Manufacturers of Door and Window Sills and Caps, Range Work, Monument Bases, Curbing, Wall Stone and Snover W Ixito 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 with us. Quarry and warehouse, north of Second St. City office, Dorwin’s Photograph Gallery. 6m6 MONEY TALKS. And so does the prices oh every article of goods at Poilei’s Harness sudd And Second-Hand Store 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 in need o£; 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 DIHT! Don’t be humbugged mto buying high priced goods without first seeing my im-t mense stock and learning the inducements I have to offer. S6£“Hunt me up and save jour $ $ $ $ • S. Porter. • . --- Madison Street, West of Stone’s Hardware Store. PIXLEY & CO., THE HEAD OF THE CLOTHING TRADE IN Fort Wayne, Ind. Announce that their several Departments in this Mammoth Clothing House an complete with the most varied and largest assortment yet shown in O GENTS FALL AND WINTER WEAR. O i ... * . i, ■ '

■ ■ § MEN’S SUITS. We have never been able to show such a large variety of styles of pretty goods as now. Onr Cheviots Suits are all the rage, and we show them in Black and Blue, cut in Sack, pouble and Single Breasted, and the popular Cutaway in - Boys and Children. We are prepared to meet the wants of the most fastidious. We also show full lines of lower grades.

PIXLEY & COMPANY, 16 and 18 East Berry St, - - - Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Chicago and Atlantic R’y., With its Pullman-built equipment, substantially constructed roadway, and low rates of fare insure a safe, speedy, and economical journey to all points EAST OR WEST. Write to your nearest railway agent for the attractive low rates via this line. TIME-CARD IN EFFECT DEC. 1, 1890. GOING EAST. Stations— No. 2. No. 8. No. 12. No. 30. Chicago-.lv 730am3 2o pm 7-.5 pm*. Archer ave Englewood”, Hammond.. 830 4 17 8 25 Cr. Point .. 9 06 855 Kouts .... N. Judson'. Rochester. . 11 3J 6 33 TO 57 Akron Newton Bolivar Huntintn .. 105 pm 750 12 20 am 515 am Kingsland.. Decatur.... 2 22 8 42 111 845 Ohio City.. 255 142 10 20 , Spencer’lie-. Lima 3 54 9 54 2.30 1 00 pm Alger Kenton .... 4 59 10 38 3 17 4 15 Marion ..ar 6 00 11 20 4 05 6 40 New York.. - Boston; WEST. Stations— No 1. No. 5. No. 3- No. 17. Boston |I.. New York.J Marion.. .Iv 9 35 am 12 45 pm; 11 20 pm 6 15 am Kenton ... 10 30 1 25 12 10 am 9 00 Alger,....i Limall 29 . 2 07 12 55 11 05 Spencer’lle. -1/ Ohio City .. 12 27 pm 2 55 ....12 55 pm Decatur ... 105 323 2,-14 |4 50 Kingsland. Huntintn... 2 25 4 20 3 25 I 7 30 Bolivar;j Newton.... Akron ,1 Rochester.. 358 528 445 N. Judson.. .. Kouts Cr. Point .. 635 Hammond. 7 15 7 50 7 25 Englewood., Archer ave. •• Chicago, .ar 8 20 8 50 8 25 4 Trains 5,3, 8, and 12, daily. Trains 1,2, 30 and 33 daily except Sunday. For rates, time tables and other information call upon station agents or address, W. C. RHIEARSON, D. I. ROBERTS, Gen. Pass. Agt,, Asst. Gen. Pass. Agt. Chicago; 111. It in an addition to the great reputG of Samuel J. Randall that, after eq many years of Congressional during which there were many timeqf 5 when his vote or4nfluence would havd| been worth a fortune to interested lobbyists, he died worth but $5,000. Manjt persons disagreed with Mr. 1 principles and opposed his policy with all strenuousness, but none doubteq his honesty. 4 ' ;■

OVERCOATS. For zero weather, also the Fall or Me dium Weight, and the most desirabh things can be had of us in Kerseys Meltons, Cassimeres, Worsteds, etc. cut in English Box and Rlain Sacks i» Slim and Stout. In Furnishing Goodi for Gents nothing could be more ' com plete. An inspection is solicited. W shall be able to save you money.