Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 16, Decatur, Adams County, 31 January 1895 — Page 8

BEEPDALE’S <iPERATOIL How Guy Hazleton Found a LongLost Fiancee. It was difficult for society to acknowledge that Guy Hazleton was a man whose mental caliber was far above the average and did ample justice to the educational advantages that had been lavished upon him. He was a handsome man and heir to the Hazleton property —two facts quite sufficient for society to receive him with cordial welcome, and when Irene Curtis accepted his hand society smiled approvingly. Miss Curtis was acknowledged to be the belle of her circle, and being the only child of one of our merchant princes the engagement when announced caused quite a flutter. Mrs. Hazleton, Guy’s mother, was the first to call upon the fair fiancee after tier sou's offer had been accepted. She found Irene, her hands idle, her large eyes looking far into the future One word roused the young girl. “Darling.** Then followed long, close caresses, that told how warmly these women loved each other “So 1 am to have a daughter?” the old lady said, lovingly. “And I a mother. I see so little of father that he is more like a friend than a near relation.” “You know Guy goes to New Orleans next week, and will not return until May. He thinks it will take him three months, at least, to settle his affairs there; and he will be ready for Europe again. I shall be gettingyour Douse ready, Irene, and you must aid me in trying to keep Guy at home.’’ “He has been home now, how long?” “Not quite a year,” said the old lady, abruptly: “do you know how lovely you are? I know Guy could never have married an ugly girt He worships beauty. 1 think there is something in his sensitive nature that positively recoils from defect.” There were other calls of congratu- , lation, and a week passed swiftly over Irene’s head before Guy started upon his journey to New Orleans, with the understanding that the preparations for a wedding in June were to be pressed forward during his absence. Irene found herself so busy and so happy that over her day dreams of future content not one foreshadowing cloud warned her of the storms that were to break upon her life. She had been spending a day with Mrs. Hazleton, and together they had visited stores and selected dainty goods for the beautiful trousseau in active preparation. When they reached home, a gentleman to see Mrs. Hazleton was announced to be waiting her return, and Irene ran lightly up the stairs to remove her hat and cloak, while her hostess went to the drawingroom. Her visitor proved to be the confidential clerk of Mr. Curtis, with an appalling story. Irene’s father had heard that day of the utter failure of a speculation in which his entire fortune was involved, and had committed suicide. In the hours of grief Irene learned more fully the value of a friend who loved her as a daughter. She was not allowed to return home; the funeral, the sale of her father s house and property, the weary details of business were all taken out of her hands, and she was allowed to nurse her grief in seclusion. Just one week after her father’s death Irene received a letter, which she took at once to Mrs. Hazleton. It was from a relative of whom she heard for the first time, a brother of her mother’s He wrote to her, informing her that her mother had been a poor factory girl at the time of her marriage, and that her family had never intru led themselves into her luxurious home. “1 am a poor man,” he wrote, “earning my living as a telepragh operator, but 1 have a home to offer you. You will miss the luxuries of your father's house, but 1 will give you comfort. Come to me now, or at any time when you need a home.” “Am I very poor?” the young girl asked, realizing for the first time that h«*r father’s death involved also a loss of property. “Are you not Guy s promised wife?” said the old lady, reproachfully. “Your home is here, Irene, until you leave it as Guy's wife. Write to your uncle, my child, and tell him your mother claims you until your promised husband returns.” But the letter was never written. It was long past midnight on the night following this conversation when Irene was roused from sleep by cries of pain from Mrs. Hazleton's room. She ran at once to meet a sight of horror. Her old friend had fallen asleep over the fire and slept until her book had fallen upon the hearth, caught fire from a coal and communicated the flame to her dressing gown. When Irene reached her she was in a blaze. One moment of hesitation increased the frightful periL In an instant the little figure was wrapped in thick blankets from the bed, pressed closely by Irene's strong arms, while she cried aloud for help. The flames were subdued, a physician summoned, and the sufferer's injuries dressed before Irene thought of herself. Not then, not until days later, did she fully realize that she had saved a life and lost her beauty. The burns were not severe, but une side of her lovely face was drawn out of shape. Mrs. Hazleton's injuries were serious but not mortal, and Guy was not summoned home. May h d arrived, with its balmy air and fresh foliage, and Mrs. Hazleton was able to sit up the greater part of the day She knew well that much of her rapid recovery was due to Irene's careful nursing. Now Guy was coming, and the tender nurse would have her reward. The noon train would bring her son home. “Now. Irene, dress yourself. See, it is almost eleven o'clock, and Guy will be here by twelve. Put on your white collar and cuffs, dear, to relieve this heavy black. You will not wear it much longer.”

Irene made no reply She knelt do wn beside her friend and embraced her lovingly and then left her At length the welcome sound of carriage wheels greeted the mother’s ear, and a moment later she was clasped in her son's arms. Even then his eyes wandered around the room. “Irene, mother!” “She went to change her dress. You will not let her see, Guy, that you feel any alteration in her face. It was to save your mother’s life that she gave her own beauty.” “A note for you, air. 1 was to hand it to you as soon as you arrived,” said a servant. “From Irene,” said he, wonderingly, as he tore it open. “Mother! Read that.” • Dear Guy,” the note said, ••you are coming now to take my place, and I can leave your mother to your care. The Irene you loved is gone, only a hideous uia»k. My poverty your heart overlooked, but your mother said to me. . on that happy day when 1 knew you loved me: •Guy could never have married an ugly girl He worships beauty ’ May some happier love replace that of ißEsa’’ The servants were summoned and could onlj’ say that Miss Curtis drove away in a hired hack. Mrs. Hazleton thought at once of the uncle’s letter, but she had taken no note of the address, but remembered the name—Hugh Conway. “It is some comfort to know there is a home open to her,” he said, sadly “But she is mine. I have been a foolish fop, with my absurd talk about my sensitive nature recoiling from per- . sonal deformity. 1 will find her, I must.” One year passed, and in the little I town of Deepdale, and the country | seat of Col. White, a gay party had assembled to pass the summer. Clara White, a sparkling brunette, was the . acknowledged belle of the gay circle; 1 and rumor coupled her name with i that of Guy Hazleton, one of her | father’s guests. Those who knew Guy Hazleton be- | fore Irene Curtis fled from his moth er’s hou?e would scarcely recognize him now. He had become an earnest, thinking man, something of a politician, and had resumed the study of | law, meaning to adopt it as a profession. It was not an easy matter to ! coax him from his mother and his office to visit at Deepdale, but he had consented to spend a month there, and the gossips had decided Clara’s black eyes to be the magnets that drew him from his seclusion. “Will you ride to the village with me?” said Clara, as she rose from breakfast one morning. “I have to buy some trifles, and want an escort.” “I am at 3our service,” said Guy, readily. “This is my holiday. But 1 want to send a dispatch, if you will go to the office with inc.” The shopping over, the dispatch came next in order, and the young people entered the little office where * the wires connected Deepdale and the metropolis. “How soon can I have an answer from New York?” asked Guy, as he h mded a slip of paper to the lad}’ who answered his tap at the office window Clara shuddered as she saw the face of the operator, and even Guy’s heart thrilled at the painful spectacle. “In about an hour,” was the answer. “Can we wait here?” “Certainly.” The window was closed, and Guy, placing a chair for Clara, resigned himself to an hour of waiting. In the little office the telegraph operator sat down, faint and white, looking at the dispatch, which was directed to Mrs. Hazleton, and worded thus: ••Went to Auburn yesterday Hugh Conway is dead. No trace of I . Have you any news? Answer. GUY." Auburn! The village where she had sought and found a home with her uncle, learned his business and left upon his/leath. How had Guj’ traced her there, and why had he done so? The message was sent and silence reigned in the little office. From ths outer room came murmur of voices, and Irene heard C'a. 'a say: “I have had no chance to speak tc you since you came from Auburn, Cousin Guy. No success?” “None! and a whole year has passed since Irene fled from me.” “And you love her in spite of that alteration?” “Does it not make her a thousand times dearer?” “I wonder if Charley would love me as well if I were to be disfigured,” said Clara. “If he would not his love is not true. Did I love only Irene's beauty my love would now 7 be dead. But were she hideous beyond description my heart will be hers till death stills its throbbing.” While he yet spoke a gentle hand was placed upon his shoulder and he looked up. A tall, black clad figure stood beside him; a pale, agitated face looked into his. , “lias my answer come already?” he asked. A gentle voice answered: “You see how fearfully I am altered, since you do not even recognize me. Guy.” In an instant his arms were around ' her. “How you l ave suffered, my darling. Your heart is unaltered, Irene?” The carriage took two ladies back to CoL White’s. The telegraph office had , a new operator, and Guy Hazleton had a three-mile walk home Did be know how he walked? Did he think of time or space? Col. White claimed Irene as Clara’s guest until Mrs. Hazleton could be summoned to a double wedding, when a young Bostonian claimed Claras hand, and Guy Hazleton married the only love his heart had ever known Irene. —N. Y. News. Precaution. After a row with his wife, who violently expressed a wish that be was dead, an Irishman said: ‘’Oh, it’s a widow you're wantin’ to be, is it? Bedad. I’ll take good care you’re no widow as long as 1 live.”—London TidBits.

A SOLDIER OF FRANCE. How They Were Made at the Military School at St. Cyr. In “A Boy of the First Empire." El bridge 8. Brooks' story of Napoleon in St. N ichclas. is told how the youthful hero was made into “a soldier of France.” So it was soon over, for all the world like some wonderful fairy tale, and Philip Desnouettes, son of the emigre, bound boy of the washerwomen’s quarter, prot-ge of the emperor, turned his back upon the narrow and dirty street he had once called his home, and, riding away from the past, was entered as a pupil in the military school of St. Cyr. From the day when, as a new boy, he was introduced into the new school of St. Cyr. and was gradually transformed from an uncouth street-boy to a little machine, to the day when, four years later, he left it for other scenes. ' Philip Desnouettes' life was one of continuous training. He got up by the drum, he ate his meals by the drum, he went to tied by the drum. He learned to" drill, to ride, and to build fortifications; he received instruction in languages, literature, history and mathematics; he toughened without fires, developed by austere discipline, lived by rule, played pranks and took his punishment as he did his medicine — without grumbling, grew, strengthened, broadened in mind and body, learned to be a French schoolboy, a French soldier, a French gentleman. Then came 1810. Great things had been happening while Philip was a schoolboy at St. Cyr. The map of Europe had been changed again and again, and Napoleon was the mapmaker. There had been wars and rumors of war; there had been mighty marches, bloody battles and terrible triumphs; and with march and battle and triumph the fame of Napoleon, emperor of the French, had grown to mighty proportions. In 1810 France and Napoleon were the greatest names in all the world. And Philip hail met Corporal Peyrolles. Peyrolies, the wooden-legged, had left his good leg of flesh on the bloody field of Austerlitz, and, pensioned by the emperor, had been made one of the drill sergeants in St. Cyr school. To Peyrolles the emperor was not a man, he was “the emperor;’’ and Peyrolles worshiped him even as did the Romans of old worship their highest and bravest —as something more than mortal. And yet the boys at St. Cyr declared that but for Peyrolles the emperor would never have been; for it was Peyrolles' delight to recount for the boys of St. Cyr how “I and the emperor" conquered the world! But it was largely by Peyrolles’ friendly promptings, plus the instruction of the St. Cyr school, that Philip became proficient in drill and ambitious of glory. And when, even before the allotted term of training, the summons came to "the cadet Desnouettes” to attend upon the emperor, the boy felt that both fame and glory lay well within his grasp. But Peyrolles said: "See what it is to have Corporal Peyrolles for your friend, cadet. Do you thinft it is because your sharp ears serveik the emperor, when you were but a boy of the streets, that he now calls you to his side, even before your military schooling is done? Not so. It is because i f me. It is because Peyrolles has had you in hand. The emperor has heard of it. He bids you come to him that you may show others in his service what it is to be tutored in arms by the man who helped the emperor to win the day at Arcola and Lodi, at Castiglic>he and the Pyramids, at Jlarewgo and Ulm and Austerlitz. Long live the emperor, and long live Peyrolles, his right hand! Do not disgrace my teaching. You are but an infant yet, cadet. But so were we all once, and even a child can be brave. Listen, you cadet: rush not rashly into danger, but, once in, do not back out. Strike not until you can strike swift and sure. Obey, and you shall be obeyed; follow, and t»>u shall be followed: seek glory, a*d glory shall seek you. Be a soldier of France, and France shall be proud of her soldier, and shall say to the world: ‘Behold, this cadet was a pupil of Peyrolles of St. Cyr, grenadier and helper of the emperor!’” A Woman’s B ay. A woman’s most cherished method of getting her own way is to let a man suppose he is having his own way, remarks a knowing writer in an exchange. If she her heart on a thing she seldom suggests it. O, dear, no! She argues against it gently, mildly, till the man takes up the cudgels in its behalf. Sfie says what a horrid cold night it would be to turn out for the theater, when she is dying to go; and that suggeststo him that the theater would be enjoyable. Or if she wants a quiet evening at home to do mending she fusses about and suggests a dozen different places of amusement in a breath, till he doggedly says he ■ won't go anywhere, since she can't ■ make up her mind. When he makes a suggestion on his own part that falls i in with her wishes she doesn't jump at it. She knows the perverseness of man and that he would at once back out of the whole thing if she did that. She hints at difficulties, she demurs, and exhibits a lack of enthusiasm that serves its purpose and goads him at onee into having what he takes to be his own way. Meanwhile she only smiles compassionately at his blindness and scores a point to her sideA Dirty Trade. One of the dirtiest trades is that of the weaver of rush chair bottoms. A well-made rush bottom will last a long time, and the demand is not great for such chairs, though their use is reviving. The rushes come to the weaver still soiled with some of their native ooze, dry and dirty. The preparation for the work requires the wetting and twisting of the rushes, and in this process muddy streams are wrung out, which trickle over the hands of the i worker and make dirty puddles on the floor It is just possible that malaria germs lurk in the rushes.

THE PERFECT MAN. One In a Thousand Slay Come Cp to Theaa Measurement*. Physical Doctor Studer has done a great deal to improve the condition of young and old men in this city, says the Detroit Tribune. His success is based on his scientific ideas. He believes in the old maxim that you must have a sound body to support a sound mind. He says that if you will bring him a boy at sixteen years of age, and wiH agree to leave the lad in his hands for a period of four or five years, by means of regular exercise, he can accomplish almost anything as far as that boy’s body is concerned. He can change his height, his weight and his temperament; he can equip him with a force that will lie tine and robust; he will give the youth a fund of strength and energy that will fit him for withstanding any great and sudden mental or nervous shock, such as conies to all at one or another time in this life. As an incident of his work he can rid his patients of the blues, regulate their livers and stir up sluggish blood. He is the physician of arms, legs, lungs and heart, following nature's remedies, air, water, sunlight and sensible, consistent exercise. When you decide that you ought to look to your body and I you call on Mr. Studer, he begins by giving a physical examination. It is as searching and exact as science. Nothing is left to chance. He jots down twenty or thirty important items which tell the story of your physical life. Next he takes a small sheet of paper ingeniously arranged in parallel and horizontal squares, and records thereon in fine, straight strokes of the pen a chart of your physical condition, showing your relation to the normal standard. That normal standard is the very substantial perfection of the imaginary one-thousandth man. In other words 1,000 men, of all ages and conditions in life, were carefully measured, a general average struck, and the result is made the basis of all the records of the school. Never yet, on first measurements on entering the school, has a subject presented himself whose bodily perfection chanced to score accurately with those of the very perfect onethousandth man. In one or two instances that record has been approached, but it yet remains to be duplicated. The measurements of this approximately perfect "one thousandth man” will interest every lover of his race. They are given as follows:

Age 20 l Waist ».3 Weight 127 Hips 34 5 Heights— I Right Wrist 6 1 Standing 66 v Right forearm. 10.1 Sternum 54.5 Right elbow 9 7 Pubis 33 Right up-arm up 11 3 Silting 35.2 Right up-arm downl" 0 Knee 16.2 Left foreafin 9 9 Lengths— Left up-arm up .. Hi Right shoulder to est up-arm down 9 8 elbow 14 2 Right thigh 19.6 Right elbow to tip. 18.0 Right c,.lf 13 4 Left foot 10 3 Left t:. : h 19 5 Widths— Left kn e 13 9 Hips 12 6 Left calf 13 4 Shoulders 16 0 Left ankle 8 4 Chest 10.5 Dip 5.0 Chest depth 7.4Pu:iup 7.0 Girths- |Grip right..., Neck. 13 6 Grip left Chest expanded... 35 8 Lung capacity....32o Chestcontracted.. 32.9! BURIALS IN ANCIENT JAPAN. Practice of the Old Times Which Has Been Discontinued. Prior to the year 646 A. D. the Japanese had one of the most horrible burial customs that can be imagined—that of hurrying the immediate friends and retainers of a prince or other person of note in a standing position around the potentate s grave, and leaving them in the earth up to their necks to perish of thirst and hunger, says the St. Louis Republic. The custom cannot be said to have been general as late as the date given, for the Japanese records prove that in the time of the Emperor Suinin (9* —30 B. C.) the burial rites of royal personages were so modified as to partially abolish former cruelties. Speaking of a young brother of Suinin, who died and had his retinue buried standing around his grave, the old record says: "For many days they died not, but wept and cried aloud. At last they died. Dogs and crows assembled and ate off their heads. The emperor’s compassion was aroused and he desired to change the manner of burial. When the empress died soon after the mikado inquired of his officers if something in the way of a change could not be suggested, and one proposed to make clay figures of men and bury them as substitues.” That this did not entirely do awav with the former custom is proved by an edict issued in the year 64fi A. D. ithe date given first above), which forbade the burial of living persons around the graves of noted persons and provided a penalty for further adherence to the awful rite. TOOK THE OATH ABROAD. V llliam Kufns King, Was Kuniilng Mate with Franklin Pierce. illiam Rufus King (born April 6, 1756; died April 18, 1853) was a vice president of the L nited States who never served in that capacity, and one who took the oath of office on foreign soil—something which can be said of no other executive officer elected by the people of this country. King was an invalid, says the St. Louis Republic, but his friends urged him to take second place on the ticket with Fierce in 1852. Both were elected, but Mr. King’s health failed so rapidly that he was forced to go to Cuba early in 1853, some two and a half months before inauguration day. Not having returned to the United States by March 4, congress passed a special act authorizing the United States consul at Mantanzas, Cuba, to swear him in as vice president at about the hour whi-a Pierce was taking the oath of office at Washington. 1 his arrangement was carried out to a dot, and on the day appointed, at a plantation on one of the highest hills of Mantanzas, Mr. King was made vice president of the Lnited Statesamid the solemn “Vaya vol, con Dios” (God will be with you) of the creoles who had assembled to witness the unique spectacle Vice President King returned to his home at Cahawba, Ala., arriving at that place on April 17. 18S3, and died on the following day. His remains were aid to rest on a plantation known as Fire Hills."

A MEMBER OF THE FAMILY. f So the Britisher ! of Hi« < holee- • Price Collier. says that the new> of the taum? - . «he other I ly comes to breakfast w>th Uu ? The London 1 nnes i> a Kim members, int <r , a ners, and of oldest son amongst new-pa I* rs. OI . bachelor uncle, wno Punch, the J . Englishmen to them on all sorts of subjects. _ Han , overcharged h* PalK 'i' in to his mamma of the rough to of h hi SP on this first letter is followed by others ! in which the comparative ments an , cost of light luncheons on the eonti | nent in Seringapatam. in Kamscha.ka. A and everywhere else where Englishmen V have eaten and drunk-anil where have | h they not done these?-is discussed an \ If h FM> stUluMu Slid 111 Rotten Row there are letters on the subject which go into the matterof road building, modern horsemanship, and, the like, with quotations fron ' irgu , and anecdotes of accidents that happ have l*en many lettters concerning the Ivnching of negroes in our southern states, and here again John Bull, with his ponderous disregard of the fact . that he knows nothing at first hand. I delivers himself naively, as usual, of 1 his superficial omniscience. Not only the more serious weekly, but also the daily newspapers give one the impression that they feel themselves to some extent responsible for the contemporary auditing of the accounts of the day of judgment. On the other hand the better class English newspapers do not indulge in rash suppositions, hasty generalizations, uncertain guesses at probable future happening'. ami the t daily exploitation of the personal as- k fairs of notorious nobodies. And one 1 may be permitted to say diffidently • that perhaps this is preferable. If Mr. Balfour, for examble, were togo abroad for a holiday, it would be considered vulgar to chronicle his doings and dinings, and absolutely brutal and boorish to write particulars of the J dressand behavior of his sister—orof his . wife, if he had one. The sense of fair play of a nation of sportsmen does not ’ permit an editor to torment even his . enemy from behind a woman’s petti- _ coats. ! J A DRAMATIST’S WIT. He Was Perfectly at Home with His Interrogator. When Colman, the English dramatist, wasexamined before the committee of the house of commons, which sat on the theatrical question, he was asked whether he expunged all oaths or profane swearing from the plays submitted Ito his revision. He answered: i“Invariably.” “Did. you ever count the number of oaths in your own comedies of the ‘Heir : at Law’ and ‘John Bull?’ ” “Never; but I dare say there are a great many.” “Which you disapprove of?” “Undoubtedly.” “Do y< »u n. >t think it would have been better to have omitted them?” “Much better. They disfigure the scenes in which they are introduced, ■ and injure the humor.” “Then,” concluded the chairman, thinking to clinch the argument, “you : are sorry now that you wrote either of those comedies?” “Quite the contrary,” rejoined the licenser; “I rejoice exceedingly to have : made a good pudding, although I re- < gret that any had plums should have crept into it.” '

OUT IN THE COLD o**"> WET r«*<ruire ecnifOTtable pro Inere & Il Ue ood awaka All-Knit OL BOOTS. roes as durable as any felt e-pmtttxly t the trade-mark ‘ Ball Band luted. arv* imitations. Patented and made by MISHAWAKA WOOLEN MFG. Co., Mishawaka, ind. For sale by C.C. BOESE&CO Dealers in MW 153 IE! W, mre, TIWARE, NUTS, W. Shippers of Produce and Poultry. PREBLE, IND. Follow the crowd at meal time and you will find yourself at the Union Bakery. Insurance agents have been here this week adjusting the fire loss of Charley Segur. Are You Insured? Dear Sir:—The undersigned having secured the agency of the strongest insurance corporations in existence, respectfully solicits your patronage and guarantees in return prompt attention on his part to the wants of his customers. You can not afford to be without insurance. Come and have your propertv insured. J E. F. COFFEE, Agt.

Yager Bros. ORDER j terp Best Smoker; Ask For It. Pure Drugs. Toilet Articles, Stationery, Books and Patent Medicines. Have you ever tried Dr. Sawyers Little Wide Awake Pills? They are the thing! Their Sunrise Cough Balsam and Family Cure are also Leaders in sales and will also do what they advertise. Try them. For sale by Yager Bj o s. The G. R. & I. (Effect Sept. 23.1RW.) TRAINS NORTH. •No. 3. *No. 5. •No. 1. Richmond U:ooam 11.25 pm 3:*-pm i Parry 11:10 “ 3:40 ” ‘ Votaw 3:4S ! Harley 3:51 " Fountain City. 11:25 " 3:o. Johnson 11:35 “ 4:lo i Lynn 11:40 " 12:Kam 4:15 " >now Hill U:46 “ 4:21 Woods 11:40 ” 4:24 “ Winchester. 12:00 “ 12:2uam 4>U ‘‘ 1 Stone 12:10 pm 4:44 ! Ridgeville 12:19 ” 12:36 am 4:53 ' i Collet 12:38 “ 5:05 - Portland 12:42 “ 12:54 am 5:1» Jay 12:52 “ Briant 12:5® “ 5:32 Geneva 1:07 “ I:l4am 5:41 " 1 Ceylon 5:43 ” Berne 1:1» “ 5:51 " Sionroe l:3ti “ 0:01 DECATUR.. 1:47 “ 1:44 am 6:12 “ Monmouth 6:1?* Williams 2:01 “ 6 2»i Hoagland 2:06 “ 6:W ! Adams... _ 6:43 “ Fort Wayne.... 2:35 “ 2:20 aiu 6:55 •Daily, except Sunday. *Daily to Grand Rapid->. TRAINS SOUTH. •No. 2. +NO.6. JNo k i Fort Waj’ne.... 1:15 ptn il. 45 p m 5:45 a m Adams 5:56 Hoagland 1:39 “ 12:15am 6:13 ‘ Williams 1:45 “ 12:21 “ 6:B Monmouth 6:24 I DECATUR ... I:s® “ 12:37 “ «:» Monroe 2.13 “ PCVi “ 6:44 ■Berne 2:23 “ 1:02 “ Ceylon 7:04 " I Geneva 2:35 *’ 1:14 “ 7:06 .Briant 2:44 “ 1:24 “ 7:15 " Jay 1:31 “ 7:21 ‘ Portland 3:00 “ 1:41 “ 7:3» ‘ Collett 1.51 “ 7:4! “ Ridgeville... . 3:24 “ 2:03 " 7;50 " ! Stone 2:14 “ 7:59 " : Winchester.... 3:44 “ 2:25 “ 8:09 " | Woods 2:34 “ 8:22 ‘ i Snow HUI 2:3ti *• 8:25 " i Lynn 4:05 " 2:42 “ H::t’ " Johnson 2:47 “ 8:38 ” Fountain City. 4:21 “ 2:37 “ 8:49 " I Haley 8:55 " Votaw 8:59 " Parry 0:0* “ I Richmond '-4:45 “ 3:20 “ 9:15 " ♦Daily Grand Rapids. tDaily ex. Sunday. Jeff Bbysox, Age nt. C. Li L-im kwood, Gen. Pas. Agent. The Erie Lines. (Schedule In effect June 17. 1894.) Trains leave. Decatur as follows; WEST. No. 5. vestibule limited, daily 2:13 pNo. 4. Pacific express, dailv 1:34 a. a ' No. 1, express, daily 10:45 a Ei No. 31, local, daily ex. Sunday 10:43 a. EAST. No. 8. vestibule limited, daily 8:0F p- m No. g, express, dailv 1:55 p. ; No. 12. express, daily 1:39 a. ®- No. 30. local, daily ex. Sunday 10:45 a. Train No. 12 carries through sleeping cars to Columbus. Circleville, Chillicothe, Waveri iv. Portsmouth. Ironton, and Kenova, via Columbus,. Hocking Valley * Toledo. an fi ‘ Norfolk & Western lines. J. W. DeLoxg. Agent L W. McEdwards. T A.. Huntingt on The Clover Leaf. (Toledo. St. Louis A Kansas City Ry-) EAST. Express, .. .12:15 p- ®- Mail s:2*a.®Local ..... 2:35 p ® WEST. Express 8:48 p.®Mali \ 12:15a.®- ( Local 10:® E. A. Whinkey. Agent.