Decatur Democrat, Volume 35, Number 15, Decatur, Adams County, 3 July 1891 — Page 7

■ ■* T.*- ■ ■!_■ i ■■■■■■■■■■■■ Beamtaipe’s Double OB r— THE PRIMfI DONNI A Story of Mystery, Love and Devotion. BY DAVID LOWRY. CHAPTER IV«—/Continued.! Livingston's off-hand sketch was so close to nature that people who knew the murdered man said it was perfect of Its kind. He reread his article and passed it to the managing editor, who smiled grimly and nodded as he read it, then said: “Livingston, positively you have a talent for this sort of thing. Now he is dead, the world is well rid of the Major. Here’s the murder—run your eye over ft and see.if there's anything that needs correcting. You know more about the Major’s habits and life than I do. ” Livingston ran his eyes down the proof until he reached the closing paragraph. Then he trembled and looked over at the managing editor. He opened his lips, but no sound came from them. * He laid the proof down, walked to the proof-hook, found the head and stared at it. The closing paragraph informed the public that the police had reason to believe the murder was committed by a man who was ejected from a leading theater for disorderly conduct a few hours before the murder was committed. The man was well known. The motive was revenge for fancied wrongs. “There was a woman in the case,” etc, And finally, a double life was hinted at by the reporter. The head began with AN ARTIST'S CRIME. A COWARDLY MURDER, PROMPTED BY JEATjCrrSY, REVENGE OR BOTH -A GREAT POLITICAL LIGHT STRICKEN OUT. Livingston tossed the proof on the managing editor's'table, passed his hand wearily over his eyes, and walked out half dazed, cursing all newspaperdom in In his heart. After going to extraordinary pains to suppress all mention of the fracas in the theater that could conhect his friend’s name with the disgraceful exhibition, here was the Record, upon which he had been employed years, giving all the details, plainly designating the artist referred to, and only withholding the name. Worse, astounding—awful was the accusation of murder in the head lines. Livingston had but one thought now; that Was to find Simmons at once. CHAPTER V. BBAUCH AMPE’s STRANGE EXPERIENCES. When Beauchampe was separated from his friend at the entrance of the theater, he felt a hand on his shoulder, while a voice, a disagreeable voice, said: “Glad to see you, Carrick, ’spech’ly looking so flash.” face was in the shadow as he turned quickly, wrenching himself out of the reach of the man who accosted him. . The man's breath was disagreeable, his familiarity disgusting. “Who are you, sir?- I don’t know you, ” said Beauchampe. “My name is not Carrick. ” “None o’ that now, Carrick—not with me. ” "You are in: olent,” said Beauchampe, as he turned his back upon the man with the vile breath. He looked around, and thinking he espied Livingston, darted after a gentleman who proved a total stranger. The stranger entered a saloon. Beauchampe stood a moment irresolutely near the entrance; then resolved to reenter the theater. He thought in all probability his friend would re-enter the theater also when he failed to He had taken two or three steps; he was looking directly in front of him, when a man sprang out of a doorway, caught him around the neck, and strove to crush him to the pavement. Beauchampe, overcome by the suddenness of the onset, was bent double, but be was stronger than he looked. His daily exercise with the foils, and walks while abroad, had hardened and seasoned his muscles He succeeded in hurling his assailant flat on his back. It was all done so swiftly, with a smart twist and a blow, that his assailant was the more surprised of the two. But before Beaucimmpe had time to speak, ere he realized the situation, a second man dealt him a blow upon the back of the head. Whether the instrument was iron or wood, .Beauchampe did not know. That it was not a human hand he knew full well, and even as he reeled under it, he exclaimed, “coward!” He did not fall; he remembered afterward that he was on his knees, resisting the blows which were aimed at him. He managed, spite of the blows both men rained upon him, to rise. The man he had tossed on his back struck at him wickedly. Beauchampe warded his biowt and called for help. Then a hack-driver rushed up, but instead of aiding the artist the driver seized Beauchampe’s arms, whereupon he called loudly. Half a dozen men ran out of the saloon. Beauchampe appealed to them to protect him from his assailants, Two or three grasped him, while the others warned his assailants to desist, whereupon one of them flung his coat open, exposing a badge, and said: “Gentlemen, this is all right. We know what we are doing.” Two of the spectators bent forward in turn and looked at the badge. Then they spoke to the others in low tones. Meanwhile Beauchampe wrenched himself free from the grasp of all but the driver, who caught his hands behind him with a steel-like grip, while the man with the badge whipped a stout cord out of his pocket and wrapped it swiftly and tightly around Beauchampe’s wrists. Beauchampe’s struggles meantime rendered him breathless. When he essayed to speak he could only gasp. “Gentlemen—gentlemen! Help me—lor God’s sake help—me Out —of the—clutches —of these devils. They want to murder me. There is—some —horribly purpose—or an awful mistake. I have —friends in New York —who—can Identify me—l have a friends —in the theater. I am an artist,- gentlemen. Don’t for God’s sake, gentlemen—let these men”— “That’s one of his old dodges,” said the man who had exposed the badge. “He’ll be a doctor ajid a lawyer inside of five minutes. ” He was pushing Beauchampe toward the carriage. Beauchampe suddenly lifted his foot, and the man with the badge was kicked half way across the pavement. The driver struck Beauchampe a cruel blow in the face with bis clenched fist, and then the man who first assailed him struck him on the back of the head again, at the same time pushing him toward the carriage.

•I call heaven—to witness"—Beauchampe panted with the blood flowing from his mouth. The spectators advanced threateningly. “Don’t abuse him that way,” said one hotly. “You are a brute," said another with an oath, “a brute. ” “Best not interfere, gentlemen,” said the man with the badge. “This is our business; if you do, you may wish you hadn't. ” “If he were anything to me, ” replied one of the group, “I’d break your jaw if it cost me ten thousand dollars. You are ruffians—beasts.” “Oh, that’s all right; fire away if it does you good to talk, put a hand on one of us, and it may cost you all the money you’ve got to lose. ” This was uttered in gasps as the driver aided the men who had pounced upon Beauchampe to thrust him into the carriage, when the man who first sprang upon him held his face against a seat to stifle his cries. “This is awful,” said one of the lookers on, “sickening.” “It is cowardly. I’ll make it my business to inquire into this case,” said another. “On one of the most public thoroughfares, too,” said another with a shudder. “He looks like a gentleman. I say, suppose we get a policeman to look into it ” “Do! Get a dozen, gentlemen,” said the owner of the badge as he entered the carriage, and pulled the door close, while the driver sprang upon hi® seat, and the carriage was driven rapidly away. At least a dozen men witnessed the closing part of this extraordinary scene, which scarcely occupied two minutes. It was all accomplished with such lightning-like celerity that when the carriage disappeared the spectators looked at each other wonderingly, like men awaking out of a dream. One remarked: “Well, they are experts, whoever they are. ” Then everybody said they never witnessed anything like it. And everybody swore no friend of theirs should ever be trusted to the tender mercies of keepers in a mad-house. Meantime, Beauchampe was laid on his back on one of the seats, and the other occupants of the carriage deliberately sat down on him. He struggled a moment helplessly, then gasped for breath. He believed he was dying. He thought their object was to murder him then and there. Thoughts of his sister, of his dreams of fame—of the plans he had made for the future—of Livingston, swept through his brain; his ears were filled with a surging, rushing sound, like the tremendous pressure of mighty waters. His heart seemed to fill his body in its last throb—then he became unconscious. When he regained consciousness he thought he was lying on his bed in his lodgings, with his sister’s hand on his head., “He's all right, now, Peters. Guess he won’t give us no more trouble. ” “If he does,” the imprecation that finished the speech revived Beauchampe’s recolle?tion. 'i He opened his eyes and looked at the two men sitting opposite him. The carriage was moving rapidly over a smooth roadway. Beauchampe,: who was lying on his right side, contrived, with great effort, to sit upright. He gazed at his companions in the dim light; not a word was spoken by the prisoner or his captors. Beauchampe deemed it wisest to hold his peace: he was powerless; at the mercy of these ruffians whose gbject he was ignorant of. As the carriage sped over the road, he racked his brain to divine the purpose of his captors. Suddenly he said, as if the idea had been suggested by another person: “Is it possible one of you called me Carrick?” “We might call you -Carrick now, ” said one. “Then you have made a terrible mistake My name is not Carrick.” “That/will do now, Jim. ” “I tell you my name is not Carrick," Beauchampe reiterated. “I never heard the name until one of you addressed me to-night ” “It wasn't one of us—at least he isn’t here now, and it don't make any difference whether you call yourself Smith, Brown, or Jones. " “What has Carrick done? Who is Carrick? What am I guilty of?” “Keeps it up well, don’t he?” said one of his captors. The carriage turnedoff the road. The only sound heard was the quick breathing of the hard-driven horses. Then the carriage stopped, ctae of the men sprang out, and the other grasped Beauchampe roughly, commanding him to step out carefully, and make no false move. Beauchampe obeyed in silence- He was led between the two, while the driver walked behind, until they approached entrance of a large gloomy-looking building. Beauchampe shuddered as he glanced up at the dim outlines. What was this house? One of his captors rang a bell. Instantly the door opened. It was evident some one was in waiting. Two of Beauchampe’s captors passed into the vestibule ahd passageway with him, still grasping his arms tightly. The driver remained outside. A man with a very large, hooked nose, who had opened the door, preceded them, turning into a room on the right, in which another gentleman sat. This gentleman rose when the group entered, glanced at the door, and the man with the heavy, hook nose Instantly closed it. A lamp with a soft shade stood on a table covered with green oil cloth. There was neither carpet, rug, picture, mirror, nor any article of furniture iu this room save the plain table and two arm chairs. Beauchampe gazed around this room curiously, and again a chill passed over him. The occupant of the room, a man with dark, piercing eyes and cold, passionless features, lifted the lamp and ; gazed steadily in Beauchampe’s face. As he replaced the lamp on the table again, he said, in a tone of indifference: “I see you have had a tussle. That will do. You can go. Hawkins, do you think you can manage without them now?” As Beauchampe’s captors turned near the door, the man with the hook nose I measured Beauchampe from head to foot very deliberately—in away that I caused him to shiver a third time, and replied: “Easily. ” The door opened and Beauchampe’s captor’s passed out, leaving him alone with the tall man with the piercing black eyes and the broad-shouldered man with the great hook-nose. “Where am I?” asked Beauchampe, looking at the tall man. Jle leaned forward involuntarily.,, The man with the hook-nose stood at his left shoulder staring at him with hard, unwinking eyes. The tall man contemplated Beauchampe at least a then he said, in an ordinary tone: “You are in safe hands, Carrick. ” “My name is not Carrick. I tell you. There has been a fearful mistake." lam an artist ” “Thera always Is a mistake, Jf you are an artist'we will give you something to amuse you." “I tell you my name is not Carrick, and I warn you, sir " “Take him to his room, Hawkins," Hawkins advanced- The grasp he gave Beauchampe frightened and angered him. “Do not crush my arm in that way. •

1 "Keep quiet, then,” said Hawkins. ““Once more, I demand an answer. Where am I?" “You are in my asylum," said the tall man In his even, ordinary tones. “Heavens! A mad-house! A private mad-house!” exclaimed the artist o “You may discover we know how to deal with madmen. It depends on your behavior, altogether. ” “You are the proprietor, str? May I ask your name?” “You can tell him, Hawkins," “You know very well that you are tn Dr. Varek’s Asylum. Now, come with me.” The man with hook nose led him up a flight of stairs, turned off into a broad passage, led Beauchampe into a large - room in which there was an iron bedstead and a large iron ring in the middle of a large stone set in a tile floor. Hawkins coolly locked the door when he pushed Beauchampe into this room. Then he stood looking at him with ■®yes that shone like glass. There was no soul in Hawkins’ eyes; a cold, steady glare was directed upon Beauchampe. Then Hawkins removed the cord from his wrists, stood back and contemplated Beauchampe again. “Its just as Dr. Varek said. Cut up rough and I’ll bring you to your knees. I\>w, go to bed. That’s all for to-night.” Hawkins unlocked the door, turned, looked at the artist a second time with a cold smile on his bloodless thin lips, stepped outside and the key was turned in the lock again. Beauchampe sat on the side of the bed and put his hands over his eyes. The thoughts that crowded his brain at that moment rendered him frantic. He tossed his hands upward and beat the air impotently. He did not know that tears were streaming down his cheeks until his hand accidentally touched his face. Then he tossed himself on the bed and moaned in his helplessness and rage, He did not remove his clothes. He lay on the bed hours; then he paced the room. At intervals he heard unearthly cries and sobs. One poor woman —Beauchampe was startled with her > first shriek —uttered cries that made his flesh creep. The broad light streamed into his room through the window, but no one came near him. He heard many footsteps, derisive laughter, shrieks and blows, but he was forgotten. When he was sure half the day had passed, he struck his door with his hand. At last an attendant—a man—opened it, and stood looking at him. “What do you want? What are you making a noise about?” “I want to see Dr. Varek. Don’t you give people victuals? Am I to be starved?” “You will be attended to in time.” “When do you call it time? Half the day is gone now. ” “Itis just 8 o’clock.” “My God!” exclaimed Beauchampe, “and I was sure it was noon at least. Please tell Dr. Varek I want to speak to him—or Mr. Hawkins. ” The door was closed with a bang and locked. At the end of half an hour seemingly —but in fact, eight minutes. Hawkins confronted him. Beauchampe said: “Give me something to eat, Mr. Hawkins, and” —Hawkins stood glaring at him—“give me paper and ink and pen—pencil—something to occupy my time Do, for God’s sake, Hawkins. I must do somethhig. ” “Certainly—you can have reams of paper. And all you can eat ” Then Hawkins disappeared, and the first attendant returned with a large bowl, in which Beauchampe beheld a large piece of meat, two boiled potatoes, and two slices of buttered bread. There was neither knife nor fork. Presently, Hawkins entered with paper and a lead pencil. “Must I eat like an animal?" Beauchampe asked. “You must comply with our rules.” “Hawkins stood staring steadily at his poor victim. “Treat me like a man," said Beauchampe. “I am not a beast ” Hawkins did not deign an answer, and the artist suddenly seized the bowl that was placed on the floor, and ere the attendants could interpose flung it with all his might on the floor. The pieces flew in every direction. “Very well,” said Hawkins without moving a muscle. “We’ll go back to pewter now. Dan, go and get the pail and mop, and elean up the room. You can make out on one meal to-day. You can starve to-morrow if you want to. ” Then Hawkins and the attendant left him alone again. When he was alone, Beauchampe stooped suddenly, eying the door furitively all the while, picked up three pieces of the broken dish, and thrust them at random under the bed clothes. z In a little while the attendant named Dan re-entered his room with a pewter dish large enough to hold a quart, on which was placed a piece of meat, a single potato, and half a slice of unbutte ed bread, “Am I to have nothing to drink, not even water?” Beauchampe demanded. Dan did not even look at him. He walked out and locked the door behind him. Beauchampe looked at the meat. Then lie ate the bread. Next he ate the potato. Finally he took the meat in his hands, and devoured it eagerly. He was half famished. He had never experienced such hunger. Having cleaned the pewter dish, he paced the floor a score of times. Then he took up the paper Hawkins had placed on the bed, and the pencil, and proceeded to draw a human head Spite of himself this head had a resemblance to Hawkins. At least it was Hawkins’ nose. He drew another, and it too was like Hawkins. It had Hawkins’ eyes. He drew a house, and then he sketched half a dozen chimneys, what was it made his mind run on chimneys? He scattered the drawings made quickly over the bed. Then thrust his hand under the clothes, brought forth the pieces of broken delf, and bent over each in turn industriously. While thus engaged he listened intently. Several times when footsteps approached the door he thrust the piece I of delf under the bed clothes and picked up a piece of paper. Apparently he was I not to be disturbed in his drawing. When he had finished The work on the last fragment of the bow], he thrust it under his bed clothes and began drawing dogs’ heads on paper. All the dogs’ eyes resembled Dr. Varek’s just as all the noses on the human heads somehow resembled Hawkins. While thus the door was opened without warning, and Dr. Varek entered the room, followed by Hawkins. _• L, & Hawkins went down on all fours without speaking, and looked under the bed. Meanwhile Beauchampe was scrutinized closely by the Doctor. His efforts to preserve an air of uncon- I cern he realized were futile. Dr. Varek’s eyes pierced him through and through. “Try the bed, ” said Dr. Varek, calmly; rnd Hawkins lifted the cover, sheet, and rolled the hard mattress up. As he rolled, something fell. The Doctor stooped now, and picked up the three pieces of the broken bowl. After scrutinizing each in turn, he handed them to Hawkins, whose brows met in anger as he contemplated them. “You are very clever, indeed," said t :”>■ 'A • $

■W.1.11111 — Dr. Varek. "You have a genius for this business, Carrick." Beauchampe had seated himself on the side of the bed, and covered his face with his hand. “You doubtless intended to roll these up in a piece of a garment, a strip of bed-sheet, or sock—anything that would make a cover—and throw them out on the rpad You would perhaps break a pane of glass if necessary, and the person finding these clever drawings would read the story. A man clubbed, and pushed into a house with the word ‘mad’ on it It would make a good scene in a play, but the idea is lost to the world. We will take these little drawings and preserve them as evidencerof your skill, -Mr. Carrick. You my assistant, Mr. Hawkins, for suppressing this performance. Hawkins thinks of everything, Carrick. He would not rest until he fitted the pieces of that bowl together —that was what brought us here. ” Then the Doctor looked at the paper drawings and smiled. [TO BB CONTINUED.] Five Tons of Whale. A whale came ashore in the Raritan Bay, says the New York Continent. Phineas Mundy, a well-known fisherman of the village, heard the news, and hastened with his two sons down to the shore to capture the monster. With his glassy back just visible above the water, his whaleship lay as though in a peaceful sleep,' about one hundred ana fifty feet from the shore. Mundy and his boys procured a long rope and a harpoon and waded out in the soft sand to the water’s edge, bent on capturing the stranger dead or alive. One of the boys handled the formidable-looking harpoon, while the father handled the less deadly hawser. The poor beast seemed so totally unconscious of approaching danger and so thoroughly exhausted that the harpoon was not used. Making a lasso out of the long line, Mr. Mundy dexterously threw and caught the whale by the tail. The prize was captured. ’ By this time a hundred men had assembled on the beach, and with a will they hauled away on the line and soon had the animal high and dry on the beach. All the way up from the water the whale floundered about, and a track, wide and deep, was cut where his body twitched. It took three hours to land him. The whale is a young female, weighing five tons and measuring nineteen feet long and twelve feet in girth. Mr. Mundy has rigged up a blank fence around it, and is Barnumiziug the beast with a dime admittance fee. He was making money fast. A Legal Code of H nor. The Patria, a Mexican journal, publishes a long list of prominent citizens who approve a code of honor that has been recently published in the the City of Mexico. The Two Republics, while opposed to dueling, which is contrary to law, thinks that, since so many prominent citizens favor it, the law against dueling should be abolished, or, rather, that dueling should be legalized. Dueling is a relic of barbarism; yet it is a means of settling personal difficulties preferable to street encounters with pistols. The Express is not in favor of abolishing our laws against dueling, but it believes that street encounters and duels could be most effectuaHy stopped by legalizing dueling. When one gentleman’s honor has been assailed by another and an abject apology for the assault has been refused, he should be permitted to file his challenge to deadly combat with a Justice of the Peace and have it served in the same manner as. a citation. If the one cited does not answer, there should be entered against him a judgment by default. If he answers and accepts the challenge, the Justice should detail two constables to conduct the parties to a retired place where they are in danger of hurting no passers-by, and compel them to fight, at close distances, until wounded honor is assuaged by the wounding or death of one of the parties.— San Antonio Express. Squaws Are More Cruel than the Braves. It may be added, I think, with perfect justice, that of the two the squaw is more cruel than the “brave,” says a writer in the Chicago Herald. This would seem to reverse the order of nature, but the experience of those who have lived among the savages confirms my assertion. The squaws do most of the torturing and mutilation when prisoners are taken, and if, occasionally, a squaw gets killed in a melee with the troops, public sympathy is greatly wasted in lamenting her fate. It is related of a certain able and heroic g< neral of our armv, now “grown old wars” of civilization as well as of t’ frontier, and soon to be retired, that when in battle with a gallant and enterprising band of aborigines in Montana, during the summer of 1877, he called out to his men, “Kill the bucks! Kill the bucks! Spare the squaws and children! Spare the squaws—ouf!” A bullet, fired by an armed squaw, struck him in the leg and brought him to the ground. As he fell, he cried out to his soldiers, “G— d— the squaws! Shoot the squaws, too! Shoot every last one of them!” He Forgot the Poor. Dr. D. W. Poor, Secretary of the Presbyterian Board of Education, loves a joke and has few equals as a punster. He is a witty after-dinner speaker, and makes a pun on his own name with many an excellent turn. On one occasion the Doctor was visiting a friend, and, feeling tired, lay on a couch in the library. The windows were up, and quite a strong draught was blowing. The friend proposed to lower the window, but the Doctor replied instantly : “No, let it be. lam Poor, bat I always honor a draft.” ' On another occasion he met a man whose face he remembered but whose name he had forgotten. The stranger was in the same fix. After they had got proper data and made suitable apologies the Doctor said: “It was awkward in me to forget your name, but it was much worse for you to forget mine. The Bible pronounces a curse on those who forget the Poor.”—Philadelphia Inquirer. M Did the Business. Well-dressed stranger—Modern, in the upper right-hand pocket of a vest that you gave to a miserable tramp a few months ago there was, a cigar belonging to your husband. * I have—Lady of the house—Why, is this the same man ? What a great change I Stranger—Yes; a rich unde died suddenly and left me all his wealth. As I was about to say, I have to thank your husband. of the house—Why, what for? Stranger—For the cigar. I gave it to my unde.— Clothier and furnisher.

.fain iTr f l'll [CARTERS! _ VITTLE Tiver W _ CURE Bek Headache and relieve all the troubles tad> dent to a bilious state of the system, such aS Dizziness, Nausea, Drowsiness. Distress after eating. Pain in the Side, Ac. While their most SICK Headache, yet Carter’s Little Liver PiM IN equally valuable in Constipation, caring and preventing thia annoying complaint, while they also correct all disorders of t the liver and regulate the bowels. Even it they only “ HEAD ' Acheihey would be almost priceless to thowwho Buffer from this distressing complaint; but fortunately their goodness docs noteud here,and those who once try them will find these little piiisvaluatle in so many ways that they will not bo willing iodo without them. But after allsick head ACHE Is the bane of so many lives that here Is where wo make ourgreat boast. Our pills cure it while ethers do not. Carter’s Little Liver Pills are very small and -ery easy to take. Ono or two pills make a dose. They are strictly vegetable and do not gripe or pur;o, but by their gentle action please all who use-hem. Xnvialsat 25cents ; Cvo for sl. Sold by druggists ■verywaer.s or sent by mail. CARTER MCQ'dHS CO.. Kew York. ■I Prof. I. HUBERT’S Malvina cream For Beautifying the Complexton. Removes all Freckles, Tan. Sunbum, Pimples, Liver Moles, and other imperfections. Not covering, but removing all blemishes, and permanently restoring the complaxion to its original freshness. lor sale at your Druggist, or sent postpaid on receipt of price— sOc. Prof. I. HUBERT. TOLEDO, OHIO. PEOLDIEFFENBACH’S PROTAGON CAPSULES, Sure Cure for Weak Men, as proved by reports of leading physicians. State age in ordering. J Price, 81. Catalogue Free. FS fl| ft O ft A safe and speedy I ■BiMfIMK nib h cure for Oleet, / M W M Stricture and all unnatural discharges. Price SB. RREEKSPECIFIC^ Wand Skin Diseases, Scrof. ulous Sores andSyphilltic Affections, without mercury. Price, 88. Order from THE PERU DRUG & CHEMICAL CO. & 189 Wisconsin Street, MILWAUKEE, WIB, * ■‘tew. A pamphlet of information and ahstruct of the laws, showing How to/lSt Obtain Patents, Caveats, Marks, Copyrights, sent Addr. M bIUKN A Broadway, FOTTTZ’ ST HORSE AND CATTLE POWDERS Bo Hobsb will die of COLIC, Rots gj Lmro I» VBB. if Fontz’s Powders are used in time. Foutz’s Powders will cure and prevent Hoe Cholbba. Foutz’s Powders will prevent Oapbs in Fowls. Foutzß Powders will Increase the quantity of milk and cream twenty per sent., and make the butter Unn and sweet. ~ Fonts’. Powders win cure or prevent almost uvan Diskasz to which Hones and Cattle are subject. Fotrrz’s Powdbbs wux oxvb SATisrauriox. Bold everywhere. DAVID m, rourz. Proprietor. BALTIMOBB. XD. Sold by Hotthouao A Blackburn. Docatun r The Chicago & Erie Railway, With its Pullman-built equipment, substantially constructed roadway, and low rates of fare insure a safe, speedy and economical journey to all points Sast or "West. Write to your nearest railway agent for the attractive low rates via this line. TXMLE CAKD-In Effect Xov. 16.1890. GOING BAST. Stations— No. 2 No. 8. No. 12. Chicago iv 730 am 130 pm 745 pm Archer ave Englewood. ;........ Hammond 8 30 2 27 8 45 Crown Point. 9 05 2 52 9 18 Kouts 9 47 3 24 9 53 North Judson.... 10 16 3 50 10 18 Rochester 11 25 4 42 11 15 Akron 11 48 5 03 11 84 Newton 12 13 5 21 11 55 Bolivar 12 17 5 26 11 54 Huntington....... 12 50p m 600 12 30am Kingsland........ 1 06 6 28 1 06 Decatur 2 00 6 50 1 30 Ohio City 2 33 7 18 1 58 Spencerville 3 04: 7 42 2 25 Lima 8 35 8 04 2 50 Alger 4 06 8 26 8 14 Kenton 4 37 8 48 3 39 Marion ar 5 40 9 30 4 20 New York Boston GOING WXST. Stations— No. 1 No. 5. No. 8. Boston New York Marion .....iv 7 00 am 12 45pm 11 85p m Kenton 7 55 1 25 12 19 Alger 823 1 16 1242 Lima 8 55 2 10 106 Spencerville 9 21 2 33 1 28 Ohio City 9 55 8 08 158 Decatur 10 33 329 230 Kingsland 11 08 848 -2 56 Huntington 11 40 420 ,3 30 Bolivar 12 28 p m 4 48 1 10 Newton 12 82 4 53 4 14 Akron ... 12 58 5 14 4 85 Rochester 120 530 455 North Judson 2 25 6 22 5 50 Kouts 2 57 6 45 6 18 Crown Point 3 48 7 20 7 54 Hammond 4 40 7 50 7 25 Englewood Archer ave Chicago ar 5 40 8 50 8 25 Trains 5, 8,8 and 12 daily. Trains 1 and 2 dally except Sunday. For rates, time tables and other information call upon station agents or address, W. C. RINKARBON, D. I. ROBERTS Gen. Paas. Agt., Asst. Gen. Pass. Agt~ ChicagOrflll. .J ' ■■ ... ' - ■ ■ Grand Rapids t Indiana Railroad. Time card for Decatur station. In effect Sunday. February 1.1890. GOING NOBTH Accommodation 5:20 p n> Fort Wayne and Grand Rapids ...... 1:14 pu> Fort Wayne and Grand Rapids 2:21 am GOING SOUTH. Accommodation 6:Boam Richmond and Cincinnati ISDpm Richmond and Cincinnati 12:68 aw Onr Bbysoh. Aaent

Business Directoiy. THE DECATUR MATIONAL BAKK. Capital, 100.000. Surplus. 07JBS. Organized August U, m 3. OMoera-T. T. Dorwim President ? P.W.talth, Vice-President J R. 8. Peterson, Cashier: T. T. Dortrin, P. W. Smith. Henry Derkes, J. H. Hoibrook, B.'J. Terveer. J. D. Halo and B. 8. P* tenon, Directors. We are prepared to make Loans on good som> rtty, receive Deposits, furnish Domestic and Foreign Exchange, buy and Mil Government and Municipal Bonds, and furnish Letters of Credit available in any of the principal title* of Europe. Also Passage Tickets to and from World, including transportation te Si. s. lioßlWTr, Veterinary Surgeon, XbflEo3txx*oe, Xotxd.. •oeeeaafully treats all diseases of Horses and Cattle. Will respond to calle at any tlmat Prices reasonable. «7ame« Bobo t at XsAXV* ;■ — J Paul G. Hooper, at XaA'w Jteeetwr, - ■ IHRANCB B s. (. raANCTL A. 1 J. T. MBBBTMAB jflLttorakoysß Tinw t DBCATUR, INDIANA. Office Noe. L 2 and 8, over the Adams County Bank Collections a specialty. j£LBBBB HOUIK, L J. MIESSE, Propsfatm. Decatur, Ind. . Opposite Court Hoose. The Meding hotel in the city. O. T. May. M. JU, PliyaiiolAXLdb SAvz.x*s«oxa. Monroe. ... ladlaaa. All calls promptly attended to day or night. Office at residence. Adams County Bank Capital, 675,000. Surplus, 675,000. Organized In 1871. Officers—D. Studabaker. President: Robt. B. Allison.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 and Domestic Exchange bought and sold. Interest paid on time deposits. 8. «T. «Tox*cXs*.xi, Attorney-at-law and Pension Agent Collection of Claims a specialty. Decatur, Indiana. Kent K. Wheelock, M. JD,, EYE AND EAR SPECIALIST 94 Calhoun-st. Fort Wavne. Ind. JJEV. D. NEUENSCHWANDER, M. D. HOMEOPATHIST. Berne, - . _ Indiana. Children and Chronic Diseases a Specialty. Twenty years experience. A.«. HOLLOWAY, Physician Surffeon Office over Burns’ harness shop, residence one door north of M. E. church. AU calls promptly attended to in city or country night or day. M, L. HOLLOWAY, M. ». Office and residence one door north of M. E. church. Diseases of women and children specialties. MONEY TO LOAN On Farm Property on Long Time. Ooxxkxkxlffiiailoxk. Low Bate of Interest. 3P«ax"tlnal P*3rxia.te3X'tfl* In any amounts can be made at any time an* stop interest. Call on. or address, A.. K. GRUBB, or P, MAJTir, Office: Odd Fellows’ Building, Decatur.

|L™kJ "pozzop?n®f| f COMPLEXION POWDER: SiFE; CTMffIK; BEAUTIFYIHG. 1,2.3, | THREE | ISUI | POZZONTS | | TINTS Important to Mankind I SPRING CLOTHING! HATS AND FURNISHING GOODS I Our Entire Stock of SPRING STYLES I Are now ready for your inspection. We can truthfully say that never was there such a varied assortment displayed in this market, for business. . - * .* -■ The Styles are the Nobbiest I The Patterns the Handsomest/ While our lower gtades excel anything we haveever shown. Our stock of -s- SPRIITG OVERCOATS Is exceedingly large. Our Children and Boys Department is simply crowded with the Latest Novelties of the season. We will make it pay b/ offering the lowest ~ possible prices for best made goods, for you to come to us for yr’ Spring purchases. PIXLEY <ft» CO16 and 18 East Berry Street, fort Wayne. I ■ •«. -Jv; . <u»v t r ' ■ ■ X-’

■— JR,MBFTVn. • DKrnni Now located over Holthouse’i shoo store am* is prepared to do aU work pertaining to the da®. tai profevxion. Gold ailing a specialty. By the use of Mayo’s Vapor he la enabled to extras* teeth without pain. All work warranted. BSWIN, B. B. MANN, S. » JEBWUra MAUN, ▲TTOUXTS - AT - LAW, And Notaries Public. O«o. := IXM 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, IB* *iana, on th* last Saturday of each month. Applcants for license must present “the proper trustee’s certificate or other evidence or good moral character,*’ and to be successful must pass a good examination in orthography, reading, writing, arithmetic, grography. wnyUeh grammar, physiology, history of the United States, science of education, and present on ? the day of examination, a review or oompoettlon upon one ot the following named books: Tale or Two Cities, David Copperfield, Ivanhoe, Heart of Midlothian. Henry Esmond, TRie Spy. The Scarlet Letter, The Sketch Book, Knlcker* booker’s New York, The Happy Boy (by Bjorn•pn). Poems of Longfellow, Poems of Bryant Poems of Whittier, Poems of Lowell. Hawthorne's ‘Marble Faun,’ and Carlyle’s ‘Heroes and Hero Worehre* Holmes* ‘Autocrat of tha Breakfast Table, McMaster's ‘Life of RanhUn.’ and Charles Beede’s ‘Put Yourself in HM Place.* Said composition shaUcontain notice* Shan 800 nor more than 1,000 words, shaU be in the applicant's ew* handwriting, and shall be accompanied with a declaration that it is th* applicant** original work. Reviews wIU ba graded on peniaanzhip, orthography and co* position. ExAtnlnatious will begin promptly at 8:60 a. m. No license will be granted to a*» pUcants under seventeen years of age, aftsa kumatt IMA. J. P. SNOW. coTbn**r TIME TABLE The Shortest, Quickest and Best Route to tha Vest, NortM, Soutii ail Sontinest. FREE PALACE RECLININ6 CHAIR CAIS on all night trains. Solid Vestibuled Train Semico Daily, without extra charge, Palace Reclining Chair Cars from Toledo, Detroit and Chicago to St. Louis, Quincy and Kansas City without change, requiring only one change of canto San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, Portland, Denver and all points West of Missouri River. Through Pullman Buffet Sleeping Cart daily from St. Louis to Salt Lake City via Deaver, Cheyenne and Ogden. Round Trip Tickets to principal place* in California, Oregon, Utah, Arizona and Old. gaxxd STexsu* JMEe3C.ioo every day in the year. A complete line of tickets via any authorized route, obviating th* annoyance to passengers of exchanging tickets at the Missouri River. For lowest rates, maps, folders and descriptive printed matter, write to or caU on C. 8. CRANE, F. CHANDLER. Asst. G. P. A., Gen. Pas*. AgtSt. Louis. Mo. St. Louis, Mo. R. G. Thompson, Pas*, and Ticket Agent, Fort Wayne, Ind. I CURE FITS! When 18*r Ctntii X do m* mm merely te rtop them for a time, and than have teua te> tarn again. 1 mban A RADICAL GOBS. X have made the diaeaae at - FnStEPnEPSTw ffAXUNG BICKNBSS, A Ufa-long etady. X wakunt my remedy to COBB th* wont case*. BacauM ethan have tail*d to no reason for not now receiving a cere. Send at once for a treatto* and a nußomi Os my INTAUABU RBMBDT. Giv* ExprtM and Post Office. It cost* yo« nothing tor • trial, and ft will cur* you. Addrem