Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 24, Decatur, Adams County, 28 March 1895 — Page 8

SAM OUTWITTED HIM. And Helped Fred Jones Gat a Pretty Wife. Farmer Kendrick had brought in an armful of snow-covered logs from the woodpile at the north end of the house, throwing them down on the stone hearth with a noise like a small earthquake. when Carrie Brown started up. “Five o’clock! Oh, I had no idea it was so late. I must be going home.” “Allow me to accompany you. Miss Brown?" “You'll let me see you home. Carrie?” Capt. Logan and Fred Jones both spoke at once, but Carrie shook her head. “I prefer to walk home alone,” she said, gayly. “About the sleighing party to-mor-row night?" asked Fred, anxiously “I —1 have promised Capt. Logan,’* said the village beauty, a rosy tint suffusing her cheek. “But, Carrie, I thought it was settled between you and me two weeks ago!” exclaimed Fred, with a frown. “Was it? lam sure I had forgotten it!” Fred was silent Capt Logan's smooth, soft-toned voice broke the silence. “I exact no promises,” he said, gallantly, “but if I am not punctual to the hour and the spot Miss Brown may draw h°r own conclusions.” And Carrie went home. She was very pretty, this bright-eyed New England damsel. Fred Jones had loved her ever since they were children together, and Capt Logan, who had come down to spend the Christmas holidays with his cousins, the Kendricks, had become so fond of those bright blue eyes and golden hair that he had prolonged his visit into January. “ 'Pon my word, she’s a regular beauty,” said the captain, staring through the tiny windowpanes at the retreating figure of Miss Brown. Fred Jones looked quickly up at him as if he would have liked to knock him over into the fireplace, but he refrained from any such demonstration. “A beauty,” went on the captain, j “and it’s a thousand pities she should be wasted on any of the country bumpkins who vegetate among these wildernesses. Sam, you young villain, are those boots of mine blacked yet?” “No, they ain't," said Sam, crossly. . ‘‘Well, what’s the reason?” “ 'Cause I ain't had time." “See you find time. then, quickly, too,” said the captain, and Sam glowered after him as he went up the stairs. “Just wish I had the firin' of him out," said the boy, gloomily. “It's •Sam, do this,' and 'Sam. do that,’ and •Sam, where's the warm water?’ and 'Sam, what the deuce do you mean by letting my fire go out?’ and not a cent has he guv me yet—no, nor so much as a pleasant word. I wonder if he means to stay here always?” “Ydfi and I are about equal in our love for him, Sam," said Fred Jones, laughing. L “I heered him talkin’ with Miss Carrie about goin’ sleigh ridin’ tomorrow night," said Sam, shrewdly. “I’d jes' like to put ‘Kicking Tom' in the shafts. I would if it weren't for Miss Carrie. He don’t know nothin' about horses, that militia cap'n don't.” And Sam chuckled. “I say, Mr. Jones, why don't you get beforehand with him? Miss Carrie don’t really care for him, she’s only dazzled Like.” Fred Jones frowned slightly; honest Sam was not exactly the kind of Ganymede he cared to have meddle with his love affairs. “Miss Brown must choose for herself, Sam,” he said, and Sam went back to his work secretly wondering how a young lady gifted with ordinary sense could hesitate for a moment between the captain and Fred Jones. The night came, a perfect night for sleighing expeditions and rustic lovemaking. the roads hard and well packed, and a glorio us moon shining down whitely, as if a rain of silver were deluging the whole world. “Couldn't be better weather,” said the captain. “Sam, where are the sleigh-bells?” “Dunno,” said Sam. “There’s them old jingles in the garret that used to belong to Deacon John Kendrick, that was in the revolutionary war, and there is the two cowbells that Mary Jane might scour up with ashes—” “Pshaw!” said the captain. “Do you I take me for Kip Van Winkle? There’s a pretty little string somewhere, for I saw them when Mrs. Kendrick went out day before yesterday.” “I hain't seen nothin’ on ’em,” said Sam, stolidly. “Come, come, Sam. don’t make yourself out any stupider than you be by nature,” said the farmer, laughing nevertheless, for the captain's airs were fast w: aring out his welcome, and he secretly sympathized with the much abused Sam. “I guess they’re out out in the barn. You had better go with him, captain, if yon expect to find ’em; our Sam is dreadful thick headed when he chooses to be.” “Come along, my fine fellow,” said the captain, collaring Sam and marching him off in the direction of the old red barn. “We don't need any lantern in this moonlight, that is one comfort.” “Where are the stairs?” demanded the captain, as they entered the barn. “Ain’t none,” said Sam. “It’s a ladder.” “Up with you, then,” said Logan, but Sam shrunk back. “I wouldn’t, not for fifty dollars,” said Sam. “Old John Kendrick hanged himself from the middle beam fourteen years ago. and folks say he stands up there with a rope around his neck every moonlight night.” “Stuff and nonsense!” cried the captain in accents of contempt. “You cowardly lout, stay where you are, then, and I’ll go myself.” He sprang lightly up the rounds of the ladder and disappeared through the trap-door. “Where is it?” he called. “The ghost? Bight under the mid-

dle beam by the windy was the place where—" “Blockhead! I mean the string of bells” “Look for 'em yourself," said Sam, sulkily “1 don't know where they be, and what's more. 1 don't care.” “I’ll settle with you, my fine fellow, when I come down." said the captain, threateningly, as he groped about in the dim light, which came through a cob-web-draped window at either end of the barn chamber “Don't hurry yourself, cap'n,” rejoined Sam, in a jeering tone. As the captain plunged into a dark corner there was a jingle, and a string of bells, suspended from a nail, hit him directly on the neck, so like the grasp of death-cold fingers that he could but start. “Oh!” said the captain, nervously. “Here they are. Cateh 'em, Sam! Hello! Where's the trap door?" And it took the worthy captain fully sixty seconds more to realize that the trap door was closed and fastened on the lower side. He rushed to the window and threw it up, only to see Sam speeding up the hill. "Ilal 10-oa!” yelled Capt. Logan. “Come baek.you scoundrel—you ill-con-ditioned lout!—you imp of evil!” “You’ll find the ladder on the barn floor, cap'n," hooted the young rebel, “an’ don't be afraid of the ghost; it’s very harmless if you let it alone.” “But Sam, Sam, come back! I'm to be at Mr. Brown's at 7:30 o'clock.” “Don’t worry,” bawled Sam. “Miss Carrie won't wait long before Mr. Fred ’ll be on hand.” The captain danced up and down on the floor in an ecstasy of rage as Sam disappeared over the crest of the hill. He knew very well if he possessed the lungs of Boreas he could make no one hear. He sat shivering down on the hay, starting nervously at the sound of horses’ feet below and thinking how disagreeable a bar of moonlight which streamed down a crack in the roof resembled a tall white figure standing under the eenter beam. He could almost fancy the rope around his neck. Pshaw! And the captain jumped up again, with starting dew on his temples, even in the freezing atmosphere of the barn chamber. “What is to be done?” he asked him- I self. An echo, if echo has any common sense, would have answered: “Just nothing at all!” Sam had outwitted him. And pretty j , Carrie and Fred Jones, with his red cutter and a great chestnut horse! The captain was wild at the thought; sure- j ly he was vanquished. . “I won’t wait another moment for j , him,” said Carrie Brown, coloring up, j with tears in her blue eyes. “Go on, girls, I shall spend the evening at t home.” 1 ( “There’s plenty of room for you in t our sleigh, Carrie.” coaxed her brother. ( “Bessie Andrews will be glad to have ; you go along.” ; “No, she won't either." pouted Car-| , rie. "As if I would spoil all her fun! | No; If I can’t have an escort of my own , I’ll stay at home and mend stockings, | and I never will speak to Capt Logan j again.” , t Charlie Brown was on the point of , arguing the matter with his sister ' when the door opened and in walked j Fred Jones. “Not gone yet, Carrie? Where is the i t captain?” "I don't know,” said Carrie, tartly, , "and I don’t care. Am I Capt. Logan's j keeper?” “Will you go with me?” s ■ “Yes, I will,” said Carrie, her eyes lighting and shy smiles dimpling her face. “Os course,” said Fred, “I can’t ex- j pect to make myself as agreeable as the city captain, but—” “The captain! The captain!” cried Carrie, a little irritably. “I’m sick of the sound of his name. I never want to see him again. What a nice new cutter this is, and how easy the wolf robes are!" “Carrie,” whispered Fred, as he touched up the horse and felt her nest- j ling close to him, "is it for always?” “Yes, always,” she answered. “Jerusalem!" said Farmer Kendrick. It was past ten o'clock at night, and I the old gentleman had come out as usual before retiring to rest to see that I the dumb members of his family were | all straight and comfortable. “I do believe that’s old John Kendrick’s ghost come to life again, poundin’ like all possessed on the barn chamber floor!” “It's m-ee! It's m-ee!” bawled the captain. “Unfasten the trapdoor and ; let me out!” Slowly the farmer lifted the ladder to its place. With rheumatic awkwardness he climbed the creaking rounds and undid the hook from its clasp. “How in all creation came you here?" he demanded. "Why, I thoughtyou were out a-sleigh-riding with the gals.” "It was all the doing of that villain, Sam,” gasped the infuriated captain, his teeth chattering with mingled rage and cold. “I won't stand this sort of thing. I'll leave the place tomorrow.” “As you please." said the farmer, to whom the prospect of losing his guest was not unpleasant. “I'm dreadful sorry this should have happened, though. I'll talk seriously to Sam.” “So will 1,” gnashed the captain. “I’ll break every bone in his body.” But Sam had taken particular care to go over to his grandmother's, six miles across the snowfields, to spend the night, and the only person the ' captain saw was old Mrs. Kendrick, sitting by the kitchen fire. “You've lost your chance, captain,” j she said, good humoredly. “Dorcas Smith has just gone by on her way home from the sleighing party, and she says Fred Jones brought Carrie Brown in his new cutter and they're engaged.” The captain left the next day and Mrs. Fred Jones has never seen him since. And when the affair came off Sam got a piece of wedding cake big enough to give him dyspepsia for a week. —Boston News.

j A BROKEN HEART. A little china figure f Ou a little bracket sat. His little feet were always crossed. He wore a litUe hat. ’ And ev’ry morning fair or foul. » In shine or shadows dim. A pretty little housemaid came And softly dusted him. ’ She took him up so gently. ; And with such a charming air His china soul was melted quite. And loved her to despair. All day he sat and thought of her. Until the twilight came. And in his china dreams at night He breathed her little name • One day, whilst being dusted. ’ In his joy he trembled so, j To feel her little fingers, that, Alas she let him go. In vain she tried t<> grab back. Fate willed it they should part; He fell against the fender edge And broke his little heart She gathered up his fragments. Ana she told a little lie. Expounding to her mistress how The cat had made him die And on the following morning, when The shutters back she thrust. She spoke his little epitaph: ••There’s one thing less to dust ” —R- S. Hichens, in Pall Mall Magazine MANITOU NA-MEK. The Peculiar Indian Legend of This Beautiful Lake. During the preliminary surveys for the Canadian Pacific railway our party camped on "the shore of a large lake northeast of Long lake (Lake Superior section). Our guide, old Antoine Lagarde, a half-breed, gave it the above name, the meaning of which is “The Spirit Sturgeon.” One night, as we sat around the camp-fire, I got him to give -me the legend of the lake, for I was convinced that there was some tradition connect- j ed with the name, which had been handed down from former generations of Indians. Lagarde’s story was as ; i follows: “Many j'ears ago (after the spring trading was over), eight or nine families of Indians came down here from i Long lake to fish for their living and build their canoes for the fall hunt. “Arriving here, they camped, so the ; story goes, on this very point, and built a Sha-bon-ta-wan large enough for the whole band. Staging was put ■ up on which to dry their fish and place ' their belongings out of reach of the dogs. In fact, everything was done toward a camp of some permanence. "Each head of family went to some j part of the lake before sundown and set his net. Regularly each morning were the nets visited, and were always full of whitefish, trout and sturgeon.’ “The sturgeon of this lake were noted for their rich, juicy flesh, rather than for their size; and when any of the band was fortunate enough to get one in his net, a feast was made and a portion given to each party. “Among the Ojibbewas of Lake Superior and the country to the north, the same veneration is shown for the sturgeon of the fish family as for the bear among the animal. You could : hardly give an Indian greater offense | than by throwing a bear's bone on the i ground after eating the meat thereof. The skull and other principal bones are rigidly collected after the feast and hung on a pole near the camp. In the same way, the bones of sturgeon are carefully carried to the edge of the ! water and returned to the element from which the fish were taken. “Another unwritten law among the I Indians is: When a young girl of the ' band attains the age of fifteen years , she is compelled to eamp apart from ■ the tribe for the space of three days, ■ and live on the coarsest food. "Her retreat must be one hundred paces from the band, and out of sight “This probation marks the turning point in her life between childhood and ■ womanhood. “At the end of the three days her mother, or, if her mother is dead, her nearest female relative, takes her a change of clothing. She has a bath,; I most probably the first and only one she ever has, her hair is done up for I i the first time, and she returns' to the j encampment, a maiden of an age rec- - ognized as rendering her eligible for j marriage proposals. “Nwv it happened ~_ee days after the Indians arr there, that the chief of the band.'c— looking at his net, found entangled in the meshes a stur-: I geon of immense size. This fish was over a fathom long, and, although a sturgeon, was different in shape to all others they had caught. This one, inj stead of having its head and back al-; most in a straight line, as would an ordinary fish, had a decided hump or cut i down from the upper part of the body to the head, and the same peculiar | formation where the tail joined the | last fin. “There was great rejoicing among the Indians, for they considered this the king of sturgeons, the 'Manitou Na-mek,’ and they decided on having a grand feast and drum-beat that night. “The same day that this fish was caught, a daughter of the chief reached the prescribed time of her three-days’ retreat, and her mother made a bark shelter a short distance from the camp, »nd conducting her child to it gave her some food and left her with the : command that for three days and nights (under no consideration) was she to leave the place of her temporary confinement. “Any girl attempting to break this law of the trtbe was taught that the ‘Win-di-go’ would carry her off; but if j she kept perfectly quiet and obeyed the . injunction of her mother, no harm • would overtake her. “This girl's name was Ne-nah. and. as she promised to be a m st beautiful I woman, several of the young braves I were already calculating their chances of obtaining her hand from the chief, her father. “That night, from her retreat. Nenah heard the beat of the tom-tom and the loud laughter of the band, as they feasted on the Manitou Na-mek and danced to the drum-beat. “When sleep came to Ne-nah it was

not her usual healthy sleep, but wa filled with visions of dead Indians wh< (in her dream) appeared to be drowned “At last she fell into a heavy slum ber, and when she awoke a deep still ness reigned all around. “She thought it strange thatnonois< or sound of life came from the camp i but she concluded that they had eater so much the previous night that om and all were still sleeping "When the day and night had passed and yet no sound from the people o: the camp, the poor girl became thor oughly alarmed, but feared to move oi call out, on account of the injunctiot received from her mother. “Morning came again: and now frotr the direction of the eamp came a faint sound, as of a distant, sighing wind and. as the day grew older, the sound became more of a hissing-nature. During her last night in her lonely retreat that noise was something fearful, and poor Ne-nah was almost out of hei mind with terror. “Sunlight, blessed sunlight again! Now Ne-nah’s three days and nights were over, and she was free to go; but her mother came not “The girl called, hardly above her breath at first, then louder, but no answer came to her ears. She could not bear it longer, and so she determined to reconnoiter the camp and see what had happened. “As she approached the edge of the clearing she saw. squirming over the bark tent, up and over the fish staging, over the canoes on the beach —in faet, over everything that belonged to f the Indians—snakes, large and small, in countless numbers. She realized that her people were either dead or had fled, and she decided to start on foot for the fort “Ne-nah. Indian-like, had a natural knowledge of the lay of the country, and made her way through the trackless forest in a remarkable manner for one so young. Two days afterward she came out on the shore of Long lake. She was seen by one of the servants, who brought her over in a canoe to the fort. “The gentleman in charge for the Nor’west company heard her story, and although he totally disbelieved it, yet at her earnest demand and entreaty for some one to go and look for her parents, he sent his second officer and party of men to visit the place. “They returned after four days’ absence, and reported that they had found the clothes of the Indians where they lay in the camp, with nothing but bones therein. “Seeing some of the snakes mentioned by the girl still moving about, they set fire to the point before leaving. "You will notice," said Lagarde, at this point of his story, "that the trees hereabouts are second growth, and by their size you can see this happened years ago. The Indians from that time have never camped by or fished in this lake. An occasional hunter, who i has been tempted to come to the shores of the lake to see the home of the Manitou Na-mek, is reported to have seen an immense sturgeon disporting itself on the surface. “Hardy would have been the Indian who would have molested the monster." “And what became of Ne-nah?” I asked the guide. “She married Big Marten, of Albany district, and was known (after her escape from death at Manitou Na-Mek) as the Snake Woman. She died a few years ago at Fort Henley, and the most of the Indians now living in that section are descendants of hers,” concluded Lagarde. Our work for the next few days lay in sight of the lake, and although we kept a bright lookout, we failed to see anything of the uncanny fish that had been eaten by the Indians.had then been i turned into deadly serpents, and devoured the whole band, and finally resumed its natural state in the waters lof the lake! Such was the Indian le- ! gend of this grand body of water. Lagarde told me on a subsequent evening a wonderful story of a “Windago Woman.” This incident happened in his own young days, and, as he said, "must be true.”—Martin Hunter, in N. Y. Ledger. A RUSSIAN SLED. . How a Cake of Ice Is Marte to Serve In That C apacity. Riding down hill on a cake of ice would not seem to us very amusing, except, perhaps, to the spectators, who might enjoy it as a sort of frozen tub- | race. As a matter of fact, though, a cake of ice in the hands of a Russian ’ boy wilt make a very good and rapid | sled. He saws out a block that is longer than it is thick, and about high enough fur a comfortable seat. Then he scoops out a hollow like a saddle a little back of the middle of the upper I surface, and upholsters it with straw or rags. It is then ready for its first trip down hill. and if the rider is skill- . fill he will make very good time on it. But carrying it back to the top of the incline would be too hard work fur even a Russian boy, and pushing it up hill would be about as bad. A clever lad once thought of a better way, and all other boys have copied him ever . since. He found a good rye straw, and began blowing through it at the front of the bloca with the end of the straw j close to tr.e ice. Soon he had a little hole in the block, as neatly drilled as a steel tool could have done it. In the course of an hour and a half he had driven a hole slantwise through the ■ ice, coming out at the top just in front of the saddle. A stout string passed ! through the hole and knotted com- ‘ pleted his sled, which could then be \ drawn up hill almost as easily as the ' best coaster that, ever was made. If a 1 boy is careful of his ice sled—and he is ■ apt to be careful, for considerable work ■ is necessary to make one—it will last ■ all winter. Imagine him freezing on a new set of runners when the old ones • I have worn out!—Harper's Young Peo--1 pie. fj — — i -Ceylon has 25,000 square miles, or about the combined area of Vermont 1 New Hampshire and Massachusetts.

IS £ ! After THREE MONTHS uof Daily Wear se ][ — p, !' f •n < I / ~ a s le i 1 a r- \ Zn: / I )r ‘7 < ? This Collar I ills Still in Good Condition. | t, | That'#bec*useit’sthe“CE£.tnx>ro” | d 5 Collar. Its original cost xas 2: cts. j , r ? and it cost the wearer I er- f I* wards to keen it clean. ’ V'nen soiled, > simply wipe oil with sponge or wet J cloth. These collars and curls are waler-1 proof, and are the < -!y waterproof S floods made with aa interlining of J r 5 linen ; therefore the only ones that e i- 5 can last and give absolute satisfec-J ■t 5 tion. Every piece of the genuine is j it *» stamped as follows; ‘ I*- TRAD? i : MtELWtOiO ■ I atark- * 5 Refuse anvthing that is not soj S marked, and if your dealer has not $ ■ J got the right kind send direct to us, J i [ enclosing amount, and we will mail ? r you a sample postpaid. Collars 25 S > Sets. each. Cuffs 50 cts. pair. GiveS . j [size, and state whether stand-up or? 1 ; ’ turned-down collar is wanted. * £ j! THE CELLULOID COMPANY, S ;! 427-2 S YORK, j > ’ J. T. FRANCE. J. T MERRYMAN, ». P. 1 FRANCE & MERRYMAN, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, DECATUR. IND. Office —Nos. 1. 2 and 3. over Adams Co. Bank. We refer, by permission, to Adams Co. Bank. A. F. BEATTY J. F. MANN MANN & BEATTY, ATTORNEYS AT LAW And Notaries Public. Pension claims prosecuted. Odd Fellows building. i GEORGE R DICKEBSpN. ATTORNEY AT LAW, AND NOTARY PUBLIC. Pensions and Collections a specialty. Office in the John C. Hale Building GENEVA. INDIANA 8080 & COFFEE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, , | Rooms over P. O. :-: Decatur. Ind H. F. COSTELLO. PHYSICIAN and SURGEON Office on west side of Second Street, over • Teveres Hardware Store, Residence on west ■ t Third Street, between Monroe and Jackson. Calls promptly attended to day and night. i! Money to Loan. ■. I have money to loan onthe Loan Assocla- . [ tlon plan. No fees to be paid by borrowers i Can furnish money on a few days notice. Buy ; a home and stop paying rent. Low rate of r Interest. Office over Donovan & Bremer i camp. Central Grocery, Decatur. Ind. PAUL HOOPER : J. ID. HLA-I-iE DEALER IN ’ Grain, Seed, Wool, Salt, Oil, Coal, Lime, Fertilizers. 1 Elevators on the Chicago & Erie and Clover - Leaf railroads. Gffice and retail store southI east corner of Second and Jefferson Streets. 1 Your patronage solicited. 1 F- W. Smith. Pres J. B. Holthouse. V-Pres C. A. Pugan, Cash. E.X. Ehlnger, Asst Cash . Decatur National Bank 1 Decatur, Ind. ! CAPITAL STOCK. SIOO.OOO ’ Directors P. W. Smith. William A. Kuebler. - ( J. D. Hale, D. G. M. Trout. J. 11. Hobroch, C. ■ - A. Dug in and John B. Holthouse. This bank i does a general banking business, loans money ! upon approved security, discounts paper. 1 makes collection*. lids money toany point. I buys county and city orders. Interest given on money deposited on time certificates. j | —. 1 Capital $120,000. Established 1871 ‘ THE OLD i ADAMS COUNTY BANK Decatur, Indiana. j I Does a general flanking business, makes collections in ail parts of the . ..uutry. Buys ■> town, township and county orders. ‘Foreign and domestic exchange bought and sold In- , tercst paid on time deposits. I Offlcers-W. H. Niblick. President: D. Studer baker, \ ice President: R. K. Allison. Cashier . and C. S. Niblick. Assistant Cashier t ——————————— v Dr. C. V. CONNELL, e : veterinary Surgeon and Dentist. 1 • • e ***— s t a Office I. 0.0. F. Block. s H equate of the Ontario Veterinary College and Toronto Veterinary Den' ii T ,T , ;; sal! di r scs of Sm&tSted animals. Calls attended to day or night. IS r Abstract and legal cap paper for sale at this office.

Chronic Nervousness Could Not Sleep, Nervous Headaches. Gentlemen:—l have been taking your Restorative Nervine for the past three months and I cannot say enough in its praise. It has Saved Hy Life, for I had almost given up hope of ever being well again. I was a chronic sufferer from nervousness and ! could not sleep 1 was also troubled with nervous headache, and had tried doctors in vain, until I used your Nervine. MRS. M. WOOD, Kingwood, lit Dr. Miles’ Nervine Cures. Dr. Mlles’ Nervine Is sold on a positive guarantee that the first bottle will benefit. All drut’gMa sell it at sl 3 6 bottles for S 5. or it will be sent, prepaid, on receipt of price by the Dr. Miles' Medical Co., Elkhart. Ind. The Clover laeaf. (Toledo, St. Louis & Kansas City Ry.) EAST. Express 12:15 p.m Mau s;ffli a. m Local 2:35 p.m WEST. Express 8:23 p. m Mail 12:15 p.m Local 10:35a. m E. A. Whinrey. Agent. Erie Lines. Z i M*l liD bed'll' In effect No. vember IS, ism. Trains leave Decatur at follows: WEST. No. 5, vestibule limited, dally for I Chicago f 2:13 p. m No. 8. Pacific express, daily for I Chicago, f 1:27 a. m No. 1 express, dally except Sun- I day tor Chicago f 10:45 a tn No. 31, local, daily except Sun-1 day f 10:45 a. m EAST No. 8, vestibule limited, dally for » New York and Boston. ( 8:08 p. m No. 2. express, daily except Sun- i day for New York f 1:55 p. m. No. )2. express, daily for New i York f 1:34 a.m. No. 30, local, dally except Sun-< day f 10:45 a. m. Through coaches and sleeping cars to New York and Boston. Trains 1 and 2stop al all stations on the C. A E. Division. Train No. 12 carries through sleeping cars to Columbus. Circleville. Chillicothe. Waverly. Portsmouth, Ironton, and Kenova, via Columbus. Hocking Valley ,t Toledo, and Norfolk & W estem lines J. W. DeLoso, Agent. W. G. Mac Edwards. T. P. A.. Huntington. The G. R. & I. (Effect Jan. SO. ll»5.) TRAINS NORTH. •No. 3. •No. 5. ‘No. 1. Richmond 11:00 am 11.25 pm 3:30 pm Parry 11:10 “ 8:40 " Votaw 3:4K “ Harley 3:51 •• Fountain City. 11:25 " 3:57 “ Johnson 11:35 " 4:10 " Lynn 11:40 •' 12:02am 4:15 •' l Snow Hill 11:40 “ 4:21 “ Woods 11:49 “ 4:24 " Winchester... . 12:00 " 12:20 am 4:34 " stone 12:10 pm 4:44 " Ridgeville 12:1# " 12:38 am 4:33 " Collet 12:32 “ 5:05 “ ; Portland 12:42 “ 12:54 a m 5:17 “ Jay 12:32 “ 5:20 “ | Briant 12:5# “ 5:32 “ Geneva 1:07 " 1:14 am 5:41 '' Ceylon 5:43 •• Berne 1:1# “ 5:51 •• I Monroe 1:86 “ « ; oi ■■ DFi'ATI'R. 1:47 “ I:44am 6:12 " Monmouth mp, i Williams 2:01 “ 6;28 " Hougland 2:otl “ 6:31 '• i Adams 6:43 Fort Wayne.... 2:35 " 2:2oam 6:55 " •Dally, except Sunday. ♦Dally to Grand : Rapids. TRAINS SOI Tii. •No. 2. +No. 6. 2Nt>. 4. Fort Wayne.... I:lspm 11:45pm 5:45am Adams 5.53 ■■ I Hoagland 1-39 “ 12:15am 6:18 " Williams 1:45 “ 12:21 " 6:18 " Monmouth 6-34 ■■ DECA’tIK.... I:s# “ 12:37 “ , Monroe 2:13 “ 12:50 ‘ 8:44 " Berne 2:25 " 1.02 " 6:3>i " ■ ’cylon ; ul ■ Geneva 3:55 •• 1:14 “ " Briant 2:44 •• 1 24 “ 7:13 " ;J«y 1:31 ” 7:21 " 1 Portland, 3 <«i •' in •• 7.30 •• ' Collett i: sl 7;4i ■■ > Kiugeiluv... . 3.24 ■■ 2.03 ■■ ■■ 1 ?‘?ne 2 :i4 •• - ■ Winchester.... 3:44 " 2:25 “ 8:0# “ i Woods. 2-34 " g.*>» ■■ ' Snow Hill •• s-25 ■ Lynn 4:05 “ 2:42 " 8:32 " Johnson ‘ >, 47 “ # 3- " Fountain City. 4:21 “ 257 “ B:4# " Haley 8:55 " Votaw 3:511 •• I 9:08 " Richmond 4:45 “ 3:20 “ 9:15 " ♦Daily Grand Rapids. JDally ex. Sunday. Jefe Brysox, Agent I C. L. Lockwood. Gen. Pas. Agent. Settle Up. Having retired from the Boot and Shoe business, I take this method of notifying those indebted to call and settle. The accounts must be : closed up at once, so call at the old stand where I may be 1 found at any time. Yours, etc , A. HOLTHOUSE. Baled straw 25c. J. W. Place.