Decatur Democrat, Volume 34, Number 40, Decatur, Adams County, 26 December 1890 — Page 7

BETRAYED; on—— A. DARK MARRIAGE MORN. 4 Romance of Love, Intrigue and <■ Crime. BY MRS. Al4crfH». CARRISTON. , CHAPTEn XXXI. -(Continued.) For an instant hi| eyes rested on Eugene with a stupefied surprise and almost bewilderment; then he raised his arms over his head, and his two hands struck together with a sharp sound. At this terrible Gora seized the arm of Eugene, and threw him a look so profound, supplicating and tragic that it alarmed him. *- He roughly pushed her from him, crossed his arms, and waited the result. The Senator walked slowly toward him. All at once his face became inflamed with a purple color, his lips half opened as if about to deliver some deadly insult. He advanced rapidly, his hands raised; but after a few steps the old man suddenly’ stopped, beat tjie air with both hands, as it seeking some support, then staggered and fell forward, striking his head against the marble mantelpiece, rolled on the c irpet and remained motionless. Then there ensued in this chamber a sinister silence. A stifled cry from Eugene broke it. At the same time ho threw him«elf on his I knees by the side of the motionless old ; , man, touched first his hafid, then his ' heurt. He saw that he was dead. One look of Eugene told Cora Elliston she was a widow. She threw herself on the divan, buried her face in the cushions and sobbed aloud. Eugene st 11 stood, his back against the mantelpiece, his eyes fixed, wrapped in his own thoughts. He wished in all sincerity of heart that he could have awakened the dead and; restored him to life. He had sworn to deliver himself up to I him without defense if ever the old man demanded it of him for forgotten favors, betrayed friendship and violated honor. Now he had killed him. If he had not slain him w.th' his own bands, the crime was still there in its most hideous form. He saw it before him, he smelt its odor, i he breathed its blood. An uneasy glance of Cora recalled him I to himself, and he approached her. They then conversed together in whispers, and he hasily explained to herthe line of conduct she should adopt. She must summon the servants, say the Senator was taken suddenly ill, and that on entering her room he had been seized by an apoplectic stroke. It was with some effort she understood she was to wait long enough before giving the al rm to give Eugene sufficient time to escape, and until then she was to remain in this frightful tete-a-tete alone with the dead. The surgeon testified that Senator Sherwood Elliston had died from the rupture of a ve*-sel in the heart. Two days after the interment in Greenwood took place, at which Eugene Cleveland attended. The same evening he left New York to join his w.fe, who had gone to Roxbury the preceding week. CHAPTER XXXII. TREMBLING IN THE BALANCE—JEALOUSY. One of the sweetest sensations in the world is that of a man who has just escaped the fantastic terrors of nightmare, and who, awaking, his forehead bathed with icy sweat, s iys to himself: "It was but a dream!” This was, in some degree, the impression which Eugene felt on awaking the morning after he arrived at Roxbury, when his first glance fell on the sunlight streaming over the foliage, and when ho heard beneath his window the joyous laugh of his little child. He, however, was not dreaming; but his soul, crushed by the horrible tension of recent emotions, had a moment’s respite, and drank in, almost without alloy, the new calm that surrounded him. He hastily dressed himself and, descending to the garden, raised his son in his arms. He embraced him with unusual tenderness, and bending over him spoke to him in a low voice, and asked after his mother, about his plays, with a singularly soft and aad manner. Then he put him down, and walked away with a slow step, breathing the fresh morning air, examining the leaves and the flowers with extraordinary inteiest. From time to time a deep, sad sigh broke from hie oppressed bosom; he passed his hand over his brow as if to efface the importunate images. He sat down among the luxuriant verdure, called to the nurse to bring his son again to him, held him on his knee, interrogating him again, in a low tone, as he had already done, then drew him toward him, and clasped him tightly for a long time, as though to draw into his own soul the innocence und 'peace of the child’s heart. Flora surprised him in this gush of feeling, and remained mute with aston-z isbment. He rose immediately and took her hand. “What splendid care you take of him!” he said. “I thank you for it. He will be worthy of you and your mother.” She w.iS so surprised at the soft and > sad tone of his voice that she replied, stammering with embarrassment: “And worthy of you also, I hope.” "Os me?” said Eugene, whoso lips were slightly tremu ous. "Poor child, I hope ' not!” and rapidly withdrew. Flora and her mother had learned, the previous morning of the death of the Senator The evening of Eugene’s arrival they di<l not speak to him on the subject, and were cautious not to make any allusion to it. '1 he next day and the succeeding ones, they practiced the same reserve, though very far from suspecting the fatal circumstances which rendered this souvenir so painful to Eugene. They thought it onl/ natural ho should be ’• pained at so snddert a catastrophe, and that his conscience should bo di-turbed; but they were :astonished when this impression prolonged itself from day to day, until took the , appearance of a lasting sen Ant. They be£u to believe that there had arisen between Cora and himself, proba•4 bly occasioned by the Senator’s death, some quarrel which had weakened the tie between them. A trip to New York, which he made some two weeks after his arrival, was to them a confirmation of the truth they before suspected, but his prompt return, his new tastes, which kept him at Roxbury for some time, seemed to them favorable impressions. Ho was singularly sad and pensive. He took long walks alone. Sometimes he harried his little son with him, as though by chance. Ho sometimes attempted a little timid tenderness with his wife; and this awkwardness on his part was quite touching. “Flo,” ho said to her one day, "you are a fairy; wave your wand over this place and make of it an island in mid-ocean.” “You say that because you know how to ■wirn,” she rejoined, laughing and shaking her bond; but the heart of the young woman was joyful. “You embrace me now every moment, ray dear child,” said her mother to her. “Is this really all intended for me?” “My beloved mother”—while embracing her again— 'I assure you he is really courting mo nr-ain. Why, lam ignorant; but he is courting me and you also; my mother. Notice it.” Alls. Leland did notice it In his con-

versation with her, Eugenft seemed to wish to link all that wa< good in the past with his new life; to forget the rest, and pr«y of them to forget it also. It was not without fear that these two ch t nniug women abandoned themselves to their hopes. They remembered that thcr were in the presence of an uncertain person: they little trusted a change so sudden, the lensou of which they could not comprehend. They feared it was seme passing -caprice, which would return to them, if they were its dupes, all tneir misfortunes, without the dignity which bad hitherto attended theifi. They were not the only ones struck by this transformation. Mr. Norton and all bis friends noticed it. Even (he inani- I mate things—the woods, the trees, the heavens —should have borne the same i testimony, for he looked at and studied them with a benevolent curiosity with which he had never before honored them. In truth, a profound trouble had invaded him and would not leave him. More than once, before this epoch, his soul, his philosophy, his pride, had re- I ceived a rude shock, but he had no less pursued his path, rising after every blow, like a lion wounded, but unconquered. In trampling under his feet all moral belief which binds the vulgar, he had reserved honor like an inviolable limit. Then, under the empire of his passion, he said to himself that, after all, honor, like all the rest, was conventional. Then I he encountered crime—he touched it with his hand—horror'seized him, and he , recoded. ] He repulsed with disgust the principle i which had conducted him there—asked himself what would becomeijpfi human society if it had no other. The simple truths which he Had misunderstood now appeared to him in their tranquil splendor. He did not yet distinguish them clearly; he did not try to give them a name, but he plunged with ' secret delight into their shadows and 1 ' their peace. He asked for them in the i pure heart of his child, in the pure love i of his young wife, in the daily miracles j of nature, in the harmonies of the heavens, and probablyalready—in the depths of his thoughts—of God. In the midst of this approach toward a new life he hesitated. At the end oi tne montn Eugene returned to New York and to his countingroom. Business over for the day, before re- ' turning home, he paid a visit to Cora. I He had noglectedher a little of , fact, had only visited her at long inter- ; vals, as politeness compelled him. , Cora wished to keep him for dinner, as she had no guests with her. She pressed him so warmly that, blaming himself all the time, he consented. She was never more beautiful. Her deep mourning embellished yet more her i languishing and regal grace; it made her j Cale complexion yet more fair, and it Tightened the brilliancy of her look. She had the air of a tragic queen, or of an allegory of ni"ht The reserve, which for some time had marked their relations, was forgotten. Eugene found himself as in olden times, at the foot of Cora—his eves in hers, and covering with kisses her lovely hands. She was strange that evening. “We might be so happy,” she said. „ “Are we not so?” asked Eugene. “No! I, at least, am not, for you are not all mine, as lam all yours. This appears harder now that I um free. If you had remained free—when I think of it! or, if you could become so, it wonld be heaven!” “You know that I am not so! "Why speak of it?” She drew nearer to him, and with her breath more than her voice, answered: “Is it possible! Tell me.“ "How?” he demanded. She did not reply, but her fixed look, caressing and cruel, answered him. “Speak, then, I beg of you!” murmured Eugene. “Have you not told me—l have not forgotten it—that we are united by ties stronger than all others; that the world and its liiws exist no longer for us; that there is no other good, no other bad foi ns, but our happiness or our unhappiness? Well, we are not happy, and if we could be so—listen, I have thought well over it!’ Her lips touched the cheek of her lover, and the murmur of her last words was lost in-her kisses. Eugene roughly repulsed her, sprang up, and stood before her. = “ Cora, ”he sa f ’ sternly, “this is a trick, I hope; but trial or no, never repeat it, never! Remember'” She also quickly drew up her figure. “Ah! how you love her!” she cried, “Yes, you love her; it is she you love— I know it, I feel it, and I—l am only the wretched object of your pity or of youi caprice. Even Mildred Lester is no longer remembered. Very well; go back to her—go and protect her, for I swear to you she is in peril!” He smiled with his haughty irony, “Let us see your plot,” he said! “So you intend to kill her?” “If I can!” she sail; and her superb arm was stretched out as though to seize a weapon. “What! with your hand?” “The hand shall be found.” “You are so beautiful at this moment,” said Eugene, "I am dying with the desire to fall at your feet. Acknowledge only that you wished to try me, or that you were mad for a moment." She gave a savage smile. “Oh! you fear do yon? ” she s aid, col dly; then raising again her voice, which assumed a malignant tone, “you are right; I am not mad; I did not wish to try you; I uni jealous—l am betrayed, and I shall revenge myself, no matter what it costs me, for I care for nothing more in this world! Go, and guard her!" “Be it so; I go,” said Eugene, with flashing eyes. He immediately left the room and the house; he reached the Grand Central Depot on foot, and that night reached Roxbury. Something terrible there awaited him. CHAPTER XXXIII. DESPAIR. Oscar Slyme had been making the most of his time, though thus far matters had not turned out as he had expected or desired. Baffled in bringing about Eugene’s ruin through the Senator, he determined to .separate him from Flora, whom, notwithstanding what had happened, he still loved as much as he hated Cora Elliston, He dare not go to her himself, but while in the service of the Senator and Warren Leland he had become acquainted with a connection of the Leland family, a sour-minded old maid, who affected religion and all the virtues, and professed to despise wealth and the pleasures of this world, and who, as a matter of course, hated her younger, prettier, and more fortunate relative, Flo, and all her family with an intense and perfect hatred. Oscar Slyme knew and understood this woman thoroughly, and determined to make her his tool. He went to her, told his story—a fearful story it was—and when he saw she was almost bursting with the information she had received, suggested that she should go to Roxbury and pay the Lelands a visit, especially, as he happened to know, Eugene Cleveland was out of the way. She jumped at the" idea, and the very next eastern-bound train had her on board as a passenger. It is almost needless to say that Mrs. Leland and Flora were greatly astonished when informed that their connection, Miss Phebe Craven, had arrived to pay them a visit. They could not understand it. Their intercourse with her had always been very constrained. Neither their character nor their religion coincided with here. After a moment’s reflection Mrs. Leland •aid“Os course wo muat receive her and treat her well. You go down, Flo, and entertain her for a while. I will come later and relieve you.” “Very well, mamma,” and with a resigned sigh Flo descended to the recep-tion-room. At sight of her Miss Phebe started to

her feet' and rushing forward, threw her arms about her neck and kissed her. Flo, however, did not return this greeting quite so cordially. In truth, she had no great aversion for her maiden relative; she simply contented herself with not liking her; but Phebe Craven hated Flo intensely, and now she had found a good occasion to prove it to her, and she would hot lose it. What wonder, then, she began with a kiss? The death of the Senator hnd destroyed all Slyme’s high hopes of the fortune which b«> believed he would receive for opening the eyes or the deluded old man; and in his rage^anl dis pi ointment 1 o had been verynoitter against Eugene. : Phebe learned through him that Eugene had been in the chamber of Mrs. Ellisi ton the night of the Senator's death. On this foundation of truth she did not fear to frame the most odious suspicions; and Slyme, baffled in his vengeance, and like her in bis envy, had aided Lor. On Flora’s invitation, sh* again took her seat, but forced her young relative 1 into a chair by her side, and still held her band. Soon she affected to make the Senator’s death the theme of conversation—shed a few tears over her old acquaintance, and kissed Flo’s imprisoned hand with a burst of tenderness.* "My poor little thing!" she said to her; “it is for you also I weep, for you will be yet more unhappy than heretofore, if i that Can be possible.” “I do not understand you, Phebe,” an- ! swered Flora, coldly. ' “If you do not understand me so much the better,” replied Miss Phebe, with a shade of bitterness. Then, after a moment’s pause: “Listen my dear little thing! this is a duty of conscience which I comply with. You see, an honest creature like you merits a better fate; and your mother, too, who, is also a dupe. This man would deceive the Almighty i himself. In the name- of humanity, I feel bound to ask pardon for both of ; them. ” “I repeat, Phebe, that I dt» not understand you.” “But it is impossible, Flo! Come. it is impossible that all this time you have suspected nothing.” “I suspect nothing, Phebe Craven,” Flora, “because I know all.” “Ah! continued Phebe, dryly, “if this be so, I have nothing to say. But there are persons, in that case, who-can accommodate their cc j science to very strange things.” “That is what I thought a moment since, Miss Craven," said Flora, rising abruptly. “As you wish, my dear; but I speak in your own interest; and I shall reproach myself for not having spoken to you more clearly. I know your husband better than you will ever know him; and the j other also. Notwithstanding you say so, ‘ you do not know all, let me tell you. I Senator Elliston died verv suddenly, and after it is your turn! Be very careful, my poor child!" “Oh, Phebe Craven!” cried poor Flora, becoming ghastly pale, “I will never see you again while I live!” 8 She left the room on the instant, ran up-stairs, and found her mother. She repeated to her the terrible words she had just heard, and her mother tried to calm her; but she, herself was disturbed. She went down to Miss Phebe. and supplicated her to have pity on them and to retract the abominably innuendo she had thrown out, or to explain it more fully. She made her understand that she would inform Mr. Cleveland of the affair in case of need, and that he would make it unpleasant for her. '« Terrified in her turn, Miss Phebe judged the best method was to destroy Eugene Cleveland in the estimation of Mrs. Leland. She related all that had been told her by Slyme. She informed her of the presence of Eugene at the Senator’s house the night of his death. She hinted st certain reports that were circulated, and mingling calumny with truth, redoubling at the same time her affection, her caresses and her tears, she succeeded in giving Mrs. Leland such an estimate of Eugene’s character that there were no suspicions or apprehensions which the poor woman from that moment did not consider legitimate as connected with him. Miss Craven finally offered to send Slyme to her, that she might herself interrogate him. Mrs. Leland, affecting an incredulity and a tranquillity that she did not fee!, refused, and shortly after the mischief-making old maid returned to the city. On rejoining her daughter, Mr». Leland exerted herself to deceive her as to the impressions she had received, but she did not succeed; for her-anxious face belied her reassuring words. Accustomed so long to think, feel, and suffer toge.her, these two women now met, so to speak, in the same reflections, the same reasonings, and in the same terrors. They wen Lover in their memories all the incidents of Cleveland’s life —all4iis faults; and under the shadow of the monstrous action imputed to him, his faults took a criminal character which they were surprised they had not seen before. They discovered a series and asequence in his designs, all of which were imputed to him as crimes—even his good actions. Thus his conduct of lato, his strange ways, his fancy for his child and for his wife, his assiduous tenderness toward her, was nothing more than the hypocritical meditation of a new crime—a mask which he was preparing in advance. "What was to be doue? What kind of a life was it possible to live in common under the weight of such thoughts? What present —what future? These thoughts bewildered them. Next day Eugene could not fail remarking the singular change in their countenances in his presence. He walked and played a part of the day with his child. Just as night fell, clear and pure, he proposed to Flora an excursion in the woods. He spoke to her of a view which had struck him Shortly before on such a night, and which would please, he said, her romantic taste. He would not permit himself to be surprised at the disinclination she manifested, the disquietude which her face indicated, or at the rapid glance she exchanged with her mother. The some thought, and that a most fearful one, entered the minds of both these unfortunate women at the same moment of time. They were still under the impression of the shock which had so weakened their nerves, and Eugene’s sudden proposition, so contrary to his usual habits, the hour —the night and the solitary walk—had suddenly awakened in their brains the sinister images which Phebe Craven had laid there. Flora, however, with an air of resolution the circumstances did not seem entitled to demand, prepared immediately to go out, then followed her husband from the house, leaving her child in charge of her mother. They had only to cross the garden to find themselves ou the edge of the woods which almost touched the dwelling, and which stretched to some distance beyond. Eugene’s intention in seeking this interview was to confide to his wife the decisive determination he had taken of delivering up to her, absolutely and without reserve, his heart and life, and to enjoy with her his first taste of true happiness. ' Surprised at the cool distraction with which Flo replied to the affectionate gayety of his language, he redoubled his efforts to bring their conversation to a tone of more intimacy and confidence. While stopping at intervals to point out to her some effects of light and shadow in their walk, he asked what visitor she had seen yesterday. She named two or three; then lowering her voice against her will mentioned Phebe Craven. “That one,” said Eugene, “you hnd better not have seen. Ino longer recognize her." “Why?” asked she, timidly. ‘Because she is a bad woman. When wo are • little more Intimate with each

other, you and I, I shall edify you on her character. I shall tell you all—all, understand.” There was so much of goodness in the accent with which he pror.ounced these words that Flo felt her heart half comfort* d. The phantom disappeared, little by little, from her mind, and she commenced to say to herself that she had been the sport of a bad dream end of a true madness, when a singular change in her husband’s face renewed all her terrors. Eugene, in his turn, had become absent and visibly preoccupied with some grave care. He spoke with an effort; made half replies, meditated, then stopped quickly to look around him, like a frightened child. There was an extraordinary similarity in the thoughts which occupied them both. At tbe moment when Flora was trembling for fear near her husband, he was trembling for her. He thought they were being followed; he thought he heard in the thicket the cracking of branches, rattling of the leaves, and finally the sound of stealthy steps. These noises always ceased on his stopping, and then commenced again the moment he resumed his walk. He thought, a moment later, he saw the shadow of a man pass rapidly among the underbrush behind them. The repeated menaces of Cora Elliston against Flora’s life—the passionate and unbridled character of this woman, soon presented itself to his mind, and suggested this mysterious pursuit, and awakened these frightful suspicions. (TO BE CONTINUED.) A Comic-Opera Girl in a Tight Place. During a burlesque Jopera the other night a little accident occurred at a point where the comedian has occasion to piesent various young women with medals for having taken part in brave deeds on the field of battle. These honored warriors are attired to kill, being for the most part tightly compressed within thin affairs of silk. One of them is very tall and sturdy, a very Juno, encased in tights of a soft pearly gray, and, as she stepped forward for her medal, she looked every inch a conqueror of men. The comedian extended the medal to her, but, as she reached out, it fell to the stags. The lovely woman’s impulse was to stoop and pick it up, but at the first bend of her knees she stooped and looked at the comedian as though she expected him to perform the service for her. But that comedian was a wicked chap, and he had no intention of rescuing the medal. “Why don’t you pick it up, my brave soldier?" he asked, looking at the tall, blushing girl with an expression of comic surprise. The girl was plucky, though nervous, and she quickly made up her mind that she would not be made fun of before the audience, so she began at once the process of picking the medal off the stage. She dived down swiftly at first, but only got half as far as she expected and stopped. There seeined to be a resistance. at the knees. The audience was interested, and the Comedian regarded the proceeding as though it were a feat of acrobatism. The girl swung up and down with an elastic movement for an instant, and, as the blood poured in a crimson wave over her face, neck 'and arms, she strained with all her force to reach the medal. At last, with one last sharp, determined dive, the thing was in her hand, but at the same time an ominous sound was heard. It was the ripping of tight-woven cloth. The comedian jumped backward* opera glass in the house was raised as though by a sig-; nal, and, as the confused beauty struggled to an erect posture and staggered from the stage, a gleam of snow white was visible st each knee against a ruin of penrl-gray silk. “Well,” said the comedian, a little sorry that the joke should have resulted so disastrously, “I think she came through very handsomely in that scene. —Louisville Post. How to Write a Letter. Write the date distinctly, the day of the month and the year—not just the day of the week. Write on plain, unlined paper. Write yoar “q’s” and “y’s” differently, their tails turned in opposite directions. Write your “t’s” with a cross and your “i’s” with a dot. Write an answer to yOur friend’s quesUtions; if she had not wanted to know she would not have asked vou. Write with black ink—pale or faded ink has broken off more friendships and love affairs than one would imagine.. Write your name distinctly. If you are a married woman, sign it, for example, “Virginia Andrews,” exactly as if you were not married; but if it is a business letter, the Mrs. should fee put in parenthesis before your name; or, better still, the letter may be written in the third person. Tbe same rule applies to an unmarried woman. Write a short, crisp letter; a concentration of brightness. It will be much more appreciated than one longer drawn out. Write as little as possible on the subject of love. Words of love are much better said than written. Write yourself down a bright, sensible girl, and you will then have written the very best letter that a girl can possibly write.— Ladies' Home Journal. The Samaria of To-day. From an article on “Some Wayside Places in Palestine,” in the Century, we quote the following: I am free to confess that I did not meet the proverbial good Samaritan as I journeyed through this much-favored country. If one meets a tiller of tbe soil he will sidle off as far as the narrow path will allow, and scowlingly watch the traveler’s approach. The offer of a piaster w.ll bring him to a standstill. “How far is it to Nain?” “God knows,” comes the fervent answer. “How long will.it take to go there?” “As long as God pleases,” ho answers, with a shrug of his shoulders and a pull at his pipe. “Shall 1 reach there by noon?” “If God permit. ’’ , “But may I hope to make the distance in an hour?” “As God may direct,” he answers, walking away. ° “Is Nain distant, or is it very near?” “There,” he answers, moving his finger through a wide arc. If one extracts a more neighborly spirit than this from a Samaritan he must have the mysterious power of a dervish. No Indication of Love. “But do you love me, Alberta?" The speaker, judging from the tone of his liquid voice, had evidently had enough of trifling. “Why, Ambrose, you certainly cannot doubt that I am attached to you, ” and she put a little more arm leverage in the full Nelson neck hold she had on him to emphasize her lemarks. ‘Yes, Alberta, but that is not sufficient. lam not satisfied. The dog may be attached to the tin-can, but does he therefore love it?”— Philadelphia Times. Great Expectations. Mrs. Tiptop—Why in the world did you allow your daughter to engage herself to Mr. Churchmouse? He hasn’t a cent. ” Mrs. High up—No, not yet; but think of his prospects. Mrs. T.—Prospects? Why, there are ten lives between him ana the family fortune, and they are all strong, healthy young men. Mrs. H.—Yes; but not one of them can get from his home to his business without crossing Broadway.— New York Weekly. The most monotonous city in its buildings is Paris, the houses there being almost all alike. An attempt is now being made to vary this by building houses of the style of the Renaissance and Louis XI. and hopo is expressed that the example will be followed generally.

Business Directory. THE DECATUR NATIONAL BANK. capital, KO,OOO. Surplus, 87,008. Organized August 15, 1883. Officers T. T. Dorwin, President; P.W.Bmltb, vice-president; R. S. Peterson, Cashier: T. T. Dorwin, P.W. Smith, Henry Derkes, J. H. Holbrook, B. J. Terveer, J. D. Hale and R. B. Ps* terson. Directors. Weare 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 Capital, 375,000. Surplus, 375,000. Organized in 1871. Officers— D. Btudabaker, President; Jesse Niblick, 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 and Domestic Exchange bought and •old. Interest paid on time deposits. 'LI RANCE A MERRYMAN. J. T. TR.ANCM. A- 3. T. MERRYMAN A.ttornoy« at Ijaw, DECATUR, INDIANA. Office Not. 1, 2 and 3, over the Adams County Bank. Collections a specialty. JJIEBSE HOUSE, L J. MIESSE, Proprietor. Decatur, Ind. Location Central—Opposite Court House, Ths leading hotel in the city. A.«. HOLLOWAY, PlAT’ailolct.xx <*s Stxrgfoon 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 profee sion. Gold filling a specialty. By the use of Mayo’s Vapor he is enabled to extract teeth without pain. All work warranted. O. Trilay, M. Phiyaloiaixd} Surceoxi Monroe, ... Indiana. All calls promptly attended to day or night. Office at residence. WILLIAM H. MYERS, Flxyariciaxi dbSurgeoxi Specialty—The Treatment of Women, Office at residence. 157 West Wayne street. Ft. Wayne, Indiana, from 10 to 12 a. in. and 3 to 5 p. m. Telephone 89. 5m3 «/?rnf. L, H. Zeigler, Veterinary Surgeon. Modus Operand!. Or chotomy, Overotomy. Castrating Rldgling Horses and Spaying Cattie and Dehorning, and treating their diseases. Office near Bomberg’s livery Stable, Decatur, Indiana. io. k. ijeßnrnxr, Veterinary Surgeon, Monroe, Xxxd. Successfully treats all diseases of Horses and Cattle. Will respond to calls at any time. Prices reasonable. James E, Bobo, At Law Decatur, - - Indiana. JPaul G. Hooper, AttoxMie;?* at Xsaxtv* Decatur, - • Indiana. MRS.M.LHOLLOWAY,M.D, Having again located in Decatur, one door north of 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 • - . ■ ■ I f On Farm Property on Long Tims. 3NTo CoxxxxxxlaioAoxx. Low Rate of Interest. Fsirti*! □E’sayxtxxexa.’tai In any amounts can be made at any time and stop interest. Call on, or address, A. K. GBUBB, or J, E,MANN, Office: Odd Fellows’ Building, Decatur. ; >ra| and LOUISVILLE ! Vhiii ffilsr LH:, The SHORT LINE Between NORTH and SOUTH. Solid Trains To And From C 1N c1 w N AT| « k|| - | HlSt Through Coaches Between RShUvW INDIANAPOLIS & FORT WAYNE BilV* s’ Sure Connections in Union Depots. VRvViV a »For Rates and oth\<A\ information call mH” W 1 W. H. FISHER, ' Gen’l Pau. & Ticket Agt,, Ft Wayne, Ind. GEO. W BRADBURY, General Manager. B. & SUTTON, Sup’t. Whitewater R. B. TIME CARD.—SOUTH. May 18, 1890. Standard Time Fort Wayne... .lv *6ooamHO2sam * 6 <o pn Blufftonar 6 58 H 21 7 41 Montpelier 7 30 11 52 8 14 Hartford 748 12 10 pm 833 Muncie 8 30 12 50 9 15 Indianapolis. 10 30 3 50 11 20 Cincinnati 5 30 Louisville 7 00 • Daily NORTH. f Ex. Sunday. Louisville|73o Cincinnati 7 59 Indianapolis +7 00 am 11 15 3 15 pn Muncie”9os 115 pm 510 Hartford 9 45 1 57 5 50 Montpelier 10 05 2 15 6 08 Bluffton 10 38 2 48 8 38 Fort Wayne 11 35 8 d 7 40 ONE FARE FOB BOUND TRIP SUNDAYS

Notice to Teachers! i Notice is hereby given that there will be a Bubllc examination of teachers at the office of ae county superintendent, in Decatur. Indiana, on the last Saturday of each month. Applcantsfor license must present “the proper trustee’s certifficate or other evidence or 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 tates. 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, Henrv 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 Tabla, McMaster’s ‘Life of Franklin,’ and Charles file’s ‘Put Yourself in His Place.’ Said composition shall contain not less than 600 nor more than 1.000 words, shall be in the applicant’s own handwriting, and shall be accompanied with a declaration that it is the applicant's original work. Reviews will be graded on penmanship, ortlngraphy and composition. Examinations will begin promptly at 8:30 a. m. No license will be granted to apSiicanta under seventeen vears of age. after august 1889. J. F. SNOW. Co. Supt. FOR MEN ONLY! LO , Ero J r JA l^^, (3 manhood. yi|n»lrjjnnniiiiriil and NERVOUS DEBILITY KirlinHl■ °1 Bod y and Mind, Effects If E «esses in Old or Young. Bobut, Noble MANHOOD foil? Restored. How to ralaree aid Btnagtbon WEAK, UNDEVELOPED ORGANSA PARTBOF BODY. Abaolotelv natalllng HOME TREATMENT— Beaeflta Io a <l£ ■aa taatlly IVoea EOBtataa ud Foreign Cooatriea. Write them. John F. Lachot BerDe, Xnd., Keeps a full Mna of Pure Drugs Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Brushes, Oils, Toilet and Fancy A rti cies- Also a complete stock of Choice Family Groceries, All 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 Adams County that if you want an abstract to your land, Mortgage or deed executed you can get the earns dona with neatness and dispatch by calling oa A McW. BOLLMAN, Baoordsr.

<L «. XXUKWIK. A. A. HICKOLS. J. ROBT. CHRISTMB. 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 Snow XTVlxi'to XL>i.xrxc», 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 Sqi that you can save money by dealing with us. Quarry and warehouse, north of Second St. ty office, Dorwin’s Photograph Gallery. . * ’ ’ 6m6 MONEY TALKS. And so does the prices on every article of goods at Porter s Hamess M 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 me when in need of anything in the line of new and second-hand Harness, Stoves, Tfhware, Household Goods and a thousand and one articles that sre sold CHEAPER /.THAN /.DIRT! Don’t be humbugged into buying high priced goods without first seeing my immense stock and learning the inducements I have to offer. S9“Hunt me up and save your $ $ $ $ 1 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 ar> complete with the most varied and largest assortment yet shown in O GENTS FALL AND WINTER WEAR. O

MEN’S SUITS. We have never been able to show such a large variety of styles of pretty goods as now. Our Cheviots Suits are all the rage, and we show them in Black and Blue, cut in Sack, Double 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 oj fare insure a safe, speedy, and economical journey to all pointe EAST OR WEST. Write to your nearest railway agent for tbe attractive low rates via this line. TIME-CARD IN EFFECT DEC. 1, 1890. GOING EAST. Stations — No. 2. 8. No. 121 No. 30. Chicago., lv 7 30 am 3 2:j pm 7.5 pm.,‘. Archer ave. Englewood. .... Hammond.. 8 30 4 17 8 25 Cr. Point .. 9C6 855 je Kcuts N. Judson.. Rochester. . 11 3J 6 33 10 57 Akron ........i Newton * Bolivar Huntintn .. 105 pm 750 12 20 am 515 am Kingsland \ Decatur,. .. 2 22 8 42 1 11 845 Ohio City.. 255 142 10 20 Spencer’He. Lima 3 54 9 54 2 30 1 00 pm Alger Kenton .... 4 59 10 38 3 17 4 15 Marion . .ar 6 0O 11 20 4 05 6 40. New York Boston GOING west. Stations— No 1. No. 5. No. 3. No. 17. Bostonl New York .. Clarion.. .lv 9 35 am 12 45 pm 11 20 pm 6 15 am Kenton ... 10 30 1 25 12 10 am 9 00 Algerl Lima fll 29 2 07 12 55 11 05 Spencer’lle. 1,. .. .» Ohio City . .‘l2 27 pm 2 55 2 55 pm Decatur .. ; 1 105 323 214 450 Kingsland . Huntintn..; 2 25 4 20 3 25 7 30 801ivar..... Newton Akron Rochester.. 358 528 445 N. Judson.. - .. Koutsy'. Cr.. Point .. 635 .... Hammond. 7 15 7 25 Englewood. Archer ave Chicago, .ar 8 20 8 50 8 25 Trains 5,3, 8, and 12, daily. Trains 1,2, 30 and :<3 daily except Sunday. For rates, time tables and other information call upon station agents or address, W. C. BHIEARSON, D. I. ROBERTS, Gen. Pass. Agt., Asst. Gen. Pass. Agt. Chicago, 111. An utterly unprecedented accident was caused by a freak f the wind in Paxton, Hl. During a heavy windstorm the spire of the Congregational Church was raised on the wings of the wind, elevated to a considerable height, and then plunged point foremost through the roof. The novel sight drew vast crowds of spectators, who were axions to behold a church turned • wrong end upward.

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 Plain Sacks » Slim and Stout. In Furnishing Goodi for Gents nothing could be more com plete. An iuspection is solicited. W shall be able to save you money.